#some shit happened earlier and triggered us a switch.

[thegardengrows-infrozenrain]

in honor of my ipad's autocorrect trying to correct the Eddsworld ship PauPat to the payment platform PayPal while i was typing a comment on this webbed site... how would y'all feel about a sub-au where Pau has a typo named Pal and he's dating Pay,,,

(side note Pau, Pat, Pal, and Pay totally planned a double-wedding together.)

(unfortunately due to a hilarious mixup the planners they hired had poor communication between one another and the groups of twins and assumed they were just going to have weddings at the same venue on the same day with different schedules, so about halfway through the ceremony another set of caterers and photographers just crash in like "heyyyyyyy we're here for Pay and Pal's wedding- why are there two altars". everyone enjoys double the food tho and the extra photographers really help with catching every angle of the wedding so it all works out fine.)

[nevereverthem]

Gotham : Season 1 Episode 3

Earlier than I thought, here I am watching the third episode of the show.

Honestly, I can't wait to see what happens with Oswald because dude kidnapped a guy to ask for ransom... that he did not get. 🤣😭 I'm still not over the mother not believing it AT ALL.

My silly little crush wants to see Alfred so much! 🙄 I'm also all for having Brucey in his emo phase as I like to call it. I know that's not it, but just the 10 seconds frame of Bruce listening to metal-ish singers while doodling on a piece of paper was 🤌.

Selina is going to save her ass, but that sucks for the other kids though! She is one of the main characters, of course, but the other kids got their ass sent upstate! Don't you forget about that. 🥲

Anyway, here we go.

"There's a war coming..." Aaaaahhhhh! Honestly, starting the episode with Oswald's voice as a 'previously in Gotham' sort of thing, warms my heart. 😌

Gotham's streets... A bus... Oswald Cobblepot in a freaking pullover! Man is gonna be wearing a suit most of the time in the future. Let's enjoy these precious moments of him in casual clothing. 😌 The SMUDGE BLACK MAKEUP!! I know the man's got dark undereyes from exhaustion, but still.

Dude sees : Kids stealing a wallet from someone's back pocket. A cop taking money from an old asian guy. A man stealing a woman's bag. Prostitutes proposing their services to a person in a car... And all that Oswald is thinking is "home, sweet home". 🤣🤣😭😭

Okay, the story starting with a rich guy (Ronald Danzer) who did some shit. He's out on bail and plans on paying for his freedom and sneaking out to escape any problems. Like dude! That is sadly a great representation of how it works in real life too... 🙃

Balloons! And did you see that pig mask!? Foreshadowing I guess!? 😏

Oh MY! Cuffed to a balloon and being pulled up in the air!? That's so cool & terrifying at the same time. 😱

💥 INTRO TITLE 💥

Not the same punch as Oswald stabbing someone in the neck, but we'll settle for it.

Jim! 😍

"No body. We're calling it a murder?" I mean... If the guy went up until there was no oxygen available and died... I suppose it is. 🤷‍♀️ We'll see. Or, if he went that far up and then fell... He probably died from the fall... somewhere. So, it would be a murder.

For once, agreeing with Harvey. The man kinda got "what he deserved". I mean... It's a bit strong... But he probably ruined lots of people's lives so...

Bill Cranston... Switches so fast to being angry to having a hypocritical smile on his face... Dude. X) Okay, so the guy does interviews by beating people down with a little statue? I... 🙃

Hey, that's what I said! Two people killed themselves because Ronald Danzer ruined them...

Oh! Jim bringing up the Mario Pepper case! Ah!

Selina! 😌

Did she really steal Harvey's PEN!? 🤣🤣

Selina "I can see in the dark" Kyle. x) Kitty cat Kat

I don't know why, but Jim and Selina facing eachother with both hands on their own hips just makes me laugh. x)

Selina cuffed to a staircase. Legit... She's using the pen she stole to free herself from the cuffs? Damn! Plus, payoff!

Jim in the sewer. Yuk! Shoes in dirty water.

"Son of a bitch! She was telling the truth." 🤣 (Reminds me of Dean from Supernatural iykyk)

"Oh, Detective!" in Selina's sing-song voice. 🤣🤣 How she throws him back the cuffs in the sewer!

Jim's groan of frustration. 🙄

Fish! Oh no, Lazlo got beaten hard damn. 😮

Fish directly telling Montoya and Allen that Jim killed Oswald. Bitch! 🤣🤣 I mean, great move though. That's technically what happened, although he didn't actually do it. I love when the 'bad guys' tell the truth and it does serve their interests.

"Jim Gordon pulled the trigger, but who gave the order?" Yeay! Mama tryna bring Falcone down!!

"I just want justice for little Oswald." 🤣🤣 I would believe the earth is flat more than that blatant lie! 🤣🤣

Speak of the devil... 🙄

Oswald counting coins... What did he do with the guy he kidnapped? For real, are we ever gonna know? I suppose he killed him, but I would like to get some real answers. 😅

Pocket knife. 😭😭 For food at least...

"Hey, Cobblepot! You're supposed to be dead." Fuck! I wasn't expecting that.

"I'm afraid you have me confused. My name is Dimitri-" Still, the way he talks... 🥵 Plus, did he try to pull off a fake accent? x)

Oh no! Each time Oswald pleads not to be killed is... 😮

"I couldn't stay away. Gotham is my home. It's my destiny. You don't see what's coming. I do. Gotham needs me. I'm its future." Dude sounds like a cult prophet. 🤣😭 He's right though. Foreshadowing at its MAX. x)

Ouch! Achilles tendon! 😮 Killed. By the way, how Oswald manages to get rid of guys who should have physical dominance over him always impresses me.

His teeny-tiny walk! 🐧

"Can I have a tuna sandwich please?" Aw, he can be so soft... when he's been so violent ten seconds before. Bro! 🙃 I love the callback to episode 1. The first time he slits the throat of a stranger to steal his sandwich. The second time, he kills a bad guy, takes his money and actually buys the sandwich. 😌 Can someone draw Ozzie eating a tuna sandwich? 🥹 I just love seeing characters do every day activities. 😌

Waynes' manor! 😍 Okay, I might just like little Brucey ☺️ and crush hard on Alfred. 🙄

Alfred teaching Bruce fencing? Aaww.

"En garde." Aaaahhhh! I know it's the actual term for the sport practice, but each time a character says a french word, I just melt! 🫠 I am french, so just hearing my language makes me somehow proud! And boy... I'm wet. 🤣🤣 Kidding, alright. But it's AWESOME!! Plus, that's Alfred who says it. 🙄🥰

And how is the actor so good at manipulating that cane (used as a replacement for the foil)!? I'm so impressed!

By the way, that scene must have been so much fun for Bruce's actor at the time. 😌

Alfred apologizing to the armor he accidentally hit. 🤣

*Alfred hitting Bruce on the thigh or butt, not sure* "That's gotta hurt." BITCH. 🤣🤣

How did Bruce got the police file of his parents' murder? Okay, he said it wasn't hard. I suppose he just payed them. But how? I don't know if he has access to his money on his own. He's 11. Doesn't he have to get Alfred's authorization or something because he is his legal guardian? Anyway. 🙄

Bruce "If I find a clue, I am" Wayne. 🥲

Jim scrapping mud from his shoes with a paper knife? x)

Montaya straight up asking Jim about him killing Oswald. Not wasting time with innuendos. Effective.

"I didn't kill him." Which is the ACTUAL TRUTH! That's the best part. x) He is both praised and condemned for something that he did not do! I like that SO MUCH! x)

Oswald searching for a job.

"You don't even have the right shoes." Him directly looking down behind at one of the staff's shoes and grinning evilly... Is he planning on killing for SHOES now!? 🙃🙃

By the way "Here, you're on your feet all day." Me, thinking about his bad leg. 🥲

Jim and Harvey arguing about the whole situation of the Waynes' murder...

"For the last time Gordon, let it go."

"Or what? Am I gonna be the next person taken out to the pier to get a bullet in the head?"

AH! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

OSWALD!! You actually really... The shoes. 😭😭

"What size are your shoes?" Blabla "What a coincidence!" 😭😭 His laugh. 😭😭

I CANNOT.

That reinforces the feeling that I have about the fisherman's sandwich scene... That was not Oswald's first murder... Surely not... And if it was... Dude's taking a long way down... 😭🙃

Right now, I'm just thinking about Oswald telling his story to Edward, like the very first steps he took into his villain career... That would be something. 🤣😭

The interview.

Oh, 4 balloons... Who are gonna be the three other supposed-to-be victims then? 🤔

"47$?" - "You're a disgrace to drug dealers." Okay, chuckled a bit. 🙄🙃

Cranston!? OMG, I did not even recognise the guy. 😱 Honestly... I don't really mind... We saw him once... But I don't think he really deserved the balloon thing... Man... That's tough...

Attached by the ankle is worse though.

In the night with a lot less witnesses too!

ALFRED! 😍😍 No, I won't shut up.

Bruce reading the newspaper. Yeah, totally doing that at 11. 🙃

Bruce, GIMME YOUR BREAKFAST! 😋 The lil' flower though. PLEASE!

"What's the new program? Trying to see how long you can go without eating anything? If that's the case I should save myself the trouble of making it." 🔥 DAMN! 🔥 I love how he doesn't miss a moment to shoot! x) By the way, Alfred... You can make breakfast for me. 🙄 Breakfast in bed? Breakfast in your bed... in OUR bed... 🙄

Alfred is trying SO HARD. 🥲😭

Gun holder, the gun, the tie, Jim's gaze straight into the camera aaaahhhh!! 😍 Man's going into battle!

Barbara! 🥰

"[newspaper talk] It says he killed a cop. You're not in danger, are you?" GIRL! Your man is a cop... in GOTHAM. He is in danger every second of his life!

"Everyone has to matter or nobody matters." -Jim Gordon. That did something to my heart. 💔❤️‍🩹

Barbara calling Jim a "hero" because he caught Mario Pepper for the Waynes' murder... That hits hard...

Jim talking about the fact that the balloon man's targets are dirty public figures... And Harvey going "Basically any elected official should stay indoors." is so legit. 😭😭

"Listen, one thing I know is how to find someone." Harvey chatting with prostitutes... I mean, he's not wrong! They can have a lot of informations. Tough job it is! Then he beats a guy down... Typical Harvey. 😅 Stopping to get food. TYPICAL HARVEY! That was the fastest summary of his character. x)

The SHOES. 😭😭 Oswald...

Him realising that he's been hired in a Mob boss owned restaurant! 🤣🤣 His FACE. 🤣🤣 Sorry Ozzie, but you deserve it a bit. "Don Maroni!"

"Great opportunity indeed." Oswald... I can't with him. x)

Harvey got so much informations about the guy they're searching for... Okay, I have to admit that's a damn skill! Respect.

DAMN! Harvey 'woman-handled', thrown around. I appreciate that. Sorry. 🙄

Lazlo being actually worried about Fish is so cute. 🥺

What!? Bitch is getting rid of some girl I didn't understand... AND Lazlo. I... 😭

Barbara. Oh hi Montoya!

Montoya HAS THE KEY!? DAMN!!

OMG yeah, Barbare is smoking... weed I suppose. Okay okay... 🤔

Talking about Jim...

"When we were together I did lie to you." I KNEW IT!! Former lovers! Aaaaahhhh

She's talking about being sober for a year etc... What she did blabla... What did Montoya DO!? 😮

Failed attempt at a kiss. I saw that coming. RIP.

Barbara being with another person (Jim) who might also be lying to her... The pattern is repeating itself... Girl must be feeling so down.

OMG the balloons are gonna pop? It's gonna rain bodies? 😭😭 Imagine you're going about your day and then a dead body falls from the sky... 😨

Totally what happened. The woman who died though. RIP for real... 🙏

A church guy being the third victim? Not surprised... 😅🙃

Maroni talking about Arkham!! I'm so excited!!

Obviously, Oswald listening in the background...

New name : Paolo. He's really trying, but he gets it wrong. x)

He's lying about being Italian on his mother's side, "the side that he claims", but the truth is that he actually does love his mother. Half lies. x)

Maroni just gave him money out of the blue?

The little talk about starting from nothing and making yourself by working hard etc... FORESHADOWING!! 😌

"Gotham is the city of opportunity." Hum... Shouldn't it be 'Gotham is the city of crimes'? x)

"Honestly sir, I didn't hear anything at all." "Atta boy." YES!! That's actually the ONLY way to react when you are asked if you heard ANYTHING! 😌

"Go take care of your mother, Paolo." That would be so sweet... but you know... x)

The walk! I like the fact that even when we just see his upper body, Oswald's actor actually always does the walk! I mean, that's part of the character so you HAVE to do it, but like, you notice it, you actually do notice it, and I love that about him! 🥰🐧

The guy actually hiding in the former juvi facility. Meh, can't be smart about everything. Gotta catch the guy 9 minutes before the end of the episode ya know. x)

Is it a TRAP!? Like for Harvey, or Gordon? 😮

Oops. Harvey's been caught.

Harvey pleading his case to the killer saying that he's thankful, that he's doing them a favor. Great defence. 🤣🤣

Oh my God... The killer's talk though... He's so right... Public figures almost never pay for their crimes... So he did justice himself... I feel that man...

Jim's conflicted because he knows that the man's right...

FUCK!! The whole man's speech!! This is the premise of Jim's morality path... Damn it!

NNNNNOOOO! Harvey cuffing the guy to the balloon was a fucked up move! Jim grabbing the man! Please I hoped he would, but damn he's flying in the air with him now. 😭😭

Jim didn't want to let go and begged (ordered?) Harvey to shoot the balloon instead! THANK GOD! Jim, you're doing so good there. I know you're gonna go somehow dark later, but for now... freaking thank you!

The landing on the top of the pickup must have hurt though. 😅

Falcone!!

OMG Natalia was Falcone's "girl"... 😮 That's the one Fish ordered to get into an "accident". 😭

Arkham again... Damn.

Btw, Fish's makeup. 🤌

Damn. Who's the guy's last target?

Bruce's "He killed people too. That made him a criminal." Okay, let me get this straight. I don't condone murder, but I get the idea that sometime you need to be a bad guy to do good. Imagine if killing that guy now would prevent a hundred innocent people to be killed. Killing is not something right to do, but in that context, you kill one to save the others, you know? What I mean is... It's a tough subject, but if killing one person saves a lot of others... And I mean one actual bad person against kind of good people... and I don't really mean "good people", just people who actually did not do terrible things, you know. I don't even know if I would be capable of doing something like that, but the self righteous belief that killing is bad in every context... I don't think it's true. Anyway.

Alfred with his APRON. 🫠 Make me dinner too. 🥰 Please. 🙄🥰

Alfred witty remarks. x)

Bruce is EATING, finally dude.

Jim, home, must be full of bruises, damn. The man struggles to sit down. He didn't break a bone because it's a tv show, hum. 🙄

Barbara concerned again. 🥲

Seeing Jim's face... It's like he's really been 'moved' by the balloon man's speech. It's like an electroshock. I feel like he's about to tell Barbara about Oswald. 🤔 (he did not, oops)

"I want you to know that you can tell me anything." BRO! She's giving you a chance to come clean. I mean, technically you are clean, but ya know.

"This city's sick. Sick in a way I hadn't realised." For real though. 🙃 Harvey told you in the first episode. 🙃

"Doesn't matter" That's the 'last target'? Disappointing, but I get it. That also genius 'cause basically the guy only had 4 balloons, but there's way more people that would 'need' to be cuffed to it...

Jim's speech on people, justice, the law... 👌

Barbara wants to believes him so bad! Girl's crying!

OOOOHHHH, the knock knock knocking... Tell me... I think I saw that... That's him right? HIM!?

OSWALD!! 🎉 In a SUIT!! I told YOU!! (Btw, did he buy a new suit with the money Maroni gave him ? Or did he take his suit to dry-cleaning to get rid of the blood stains? Just wondering 🤔) He wanted to look good for Jim. 🙄 Let me fantasize. x)

"Hello, James. *huffs* Old friend." AAAAHHHH!!

He's already calling him 'old friend'. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I guess throwing you into the water, instead of shooting you, makes him somehow closer to a friend than an enemy, but... 🤣🤣😭😭 The AUDACITY!! x)

Jim's face. Oswald's smile. AH!

Jim had a freaking day... and it's not over. 😭

FUCKING HELL. MY GOD. I... AWESOME.

I don't even know what to say... Just... My brain's not working anymore...

[Okay, a tiny bit disappointed that we didn't see Edward this time, but I know there is going to be a lot of him in the future. So that makes up for it.]

1. Alfred did not say "bloody", not even once, in the whole damn episode!! 😮 I'm utterly disappointed!! 😔 But I still like him, of course. 🙄🥰

Late additions, two hours later, when my brain decides to function again :

Like, comment, loose your shit with me... It's your choice!!

2. Barbara will at least be relieved that her boyfriend is NOT a liar (not really yk) nor a murderer. Because here he is : Oswald Cobblepot, flesh and blood!! 😌

3. The fact that Barbara is BI, BI, BI! 🎶

Looking forward to the next episode!! 🫶

[kjack89]

Back to Where We Started (Chapter 4/4)

Final part of the E/R Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU. Read Part 1 here (tumblr | AO3), Part 2 here (tumblr | AO3) and Part 3 here (tumblr | AO3).

Much thanks to @theworldfallsup for the original prompt - hopefully you've enjoyed!

Modern AU, established E/R.

Enjolras stared at him. “You – what?”

“I didn’t kill General Lamarque.”

Grantaire repeating the words didn’t make them any more real to Enjolras, and he shook his head slowly. “But—”

“I couldn’t do it,” Grantaire told him, his voice low. “I was there, I had him in my sight, and…”

And as Grantaire squeezed the trigger, at the last possible moment, he shifted, sending the bullet a few feet to Lamarque’s left.

He could hear Javert shouting in his ear, telling him to take the shot, to fix this, but it was too late – Lamarque was already being rushed out by his security. And even if he still had the shot, Grantaire was done. Taking out terrorists and arms dealers was one thing; taking out someone trying to do right by his country and his people to put more money in billionaires’ pockets was another.

“I don’t care,” he said, interrupting Javert’s increasingly unhinged ranting. “I’m not killing anyone without some kind of compelling reason. Not anymore.”

“A compelling reason?” Javert repeated, in a cold, clipped tone that was infinitely more frightening than his shouting. “The compelling reason is that when I catch up with you, I’m going to put a bullet in your—”

Grantaire pulled the earbud out of his ear, squinting down at it to find the tiny button that controlled the frequency. He switched it to the emergency channel and popped it back in his ear before settling back in to wait.

A few minutes later, there was a faint beep to let him know someone else was on the channel. “Joly?” he said. “Bossuet?”

“We’re here,” Bossuet said, sounding grim. “And you’re—”

“In deep shit, I know,” Grantaire said. “I just need to get out of here. I can deal with the rest of it on my own.”

Joly sighed. “Of course you can’t,” he said resignedly. “And we’re going to do whatever we can to help you, but we have to be careful. Or else we could all three of us end up dead.”

Grantaire frowned. “I’m not asking you to help me—”

“You don’t have to,” Bossuet interrupted. “Look, soonest I can get into Burundi is in 72 hours, and even then I can only take you as far as Kenya. Can you survive on your own for 72 hours?”

“Of course I can,” Grantaire scoffed. “What kind of question—”

“Can you survive for 72 hours without drinking yourself into a coma?”

Grantaire managed a dry, humorless laugh. “Well, only one way to find out.”

“Two days later, someone did what I couldn’t and killed General Lamarque,” Grantaire told Enjolras, his voice low. “And then…well, you know what happened next.”

Enjolras just shook his head again, still trying to process everything Grantaire had told him. “You didn’t kill him.”

Grantaire shook his head as well. “No,” he said. “Only person I killed in Burundi was the person I was pretending to be. And then I met you, and…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras reached out almost automatically, resting his hand lightly against Grantaire’s cheek, smoothing his thumb across the beginnings of a black eye from a right hook he’d managed to land earlier. “And?” he prompted softly.

Grantaire’s eyes met his. “And I didn’t want to pretend to be someone else anymore.”

Enjolras couldn’t stop himself then, closing the space between them to kiss him. It was nothing like their previous kiss that was all fire and teeth and passion. And it was nothing like the many, many kisses they had shared during their marriage, which had always had an edge of calculation, of performance, of expectation.

This kiss was soft, tentative, as if their lips had never touched before, as if Enjolras had never before tasted Grantaire.

Because in a way, he hadn’t.

Grantaire skimmed his hands down Enjolras’s ribs, hesitating when they reached the hem of Enjolras’s shirt. “May I?” he asked, even though he’d never needed to ask for permission.

Perhaps he also realized that something was different, was new, between them.

Enjolras nodded, letting Grantaire pull his shirt off, letting Grantaire lift him up to set him on the kitchen counter, slotting in between his legs as he deepened the kiss, turning it open-mouthed and heady and still so different than any they had shared before.

“I love you,” he whispered in Enjolras’s ear, somewhere between a confession, and a promise.

And Enjolras just kissed him again before asking, “Do you think our bed survived the fire fight?”

Grantaire’s lips curved into a smile against his. “I think we should go find out.”

— — — — —

The knock on the door was increasing in urgency with each successive knock, and Grantaire tightened the sash on the bathrobe he was wearing as he hurried to answer it. He opened the door and glanced from Marius, who looked genuinely worried, to the two police officers standing behind him. “Yeah?” he asked, deliberately casual.

“Is everything ok?” Marius asked, eyes wide. “I heard a, um, bit of a ruckus, and what with what happened to your shed earlier…”

Grantaire had almost forgotten about that. “No, everything’s fine here,” he said disarmingly, flashing the cops a smile. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Neither Marius nor the cops looked convinced. “So you guys are – you’re fine?”

Grantaire took a step back, opening the door a little wider to show Enjolras behind him, wearing nothing but a pair of Grantaire’s boxers, his hair sticking up in every direction. “Yeah, couldn’t be better.”

Marius flushed scarlet. “Oh, um, nice. I mean, you guys, uh…”

Grantaire nodded his goodbye. “Marius, officers.”

“Have a nice night,” Enjolras added pointedly.

“I, uh, I can see you’ve been redecorating,” Marius said, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “Shame about the red oak—”

Grantaire closed the door in his face before turning back to Enjolras. “Now. Where were we?”

— — — — —

“Found something!” Grantaire called from the kitchen a few hours later as the sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon. 

“An unbroken glass?” Enjolras asked.

“Better,” Grantaire said, emerging from the kitchen before sitting down next to Enjolras on the floor beside their now-demolished couch. “Bottle of champagne for our anniversary. Miraculously did not get shot or broken.”

He tore the foil from the top and started twisting the wire basket off. Enjolras just shook his head, amused. “And you suggest we just drink it from the bottle?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras didn’t. He watched with amusement as Grantaire popped the cork and took a swig before handing the bottle over. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Enjolras returned, taking a swig of his own before asking, “So now what?”

Grantaire leaned back against the half-destroyed couch cushion. “I’ve got a pretty radical idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said. “We give honesty the ol’ college try.”

Enjolras snorted and took another sip of champagne. “Who says I haven’t been honest?” Grantaire just gave him a look and Enjolras laughed lightly. “Ok, fair.” He passed the bottle back to Grantaire before saying, a little hesitantly, “Well, you know how I told you when we met that I was traveling with the Peace Corps and got separated from my team? That was a lie.”

Grantaire laughed. “Yeah, I sort of put that one together already,” he said, taking a sip of champagne. “Though I’ll be honest, I always liked that about you.”

Enjolras scowled and stole the bottle back. “Maybe this honesty thing isn’t such a good idea.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes affectionately. “I’m kidding,” he said. “Besides, I never went to RISD.”

“Really?” Enjolras said, genuinely surprised, since Grantaire not only had a framed diploma but had also talked about taking him to visit the campus.

“Never even graduated college,” Grantaire said through a mouthful of champagne. He swallowed before adding, “I spent a year at UCLA before dropping out.” He made a face. “I was a math major, believe it or not.”

Enjolras barked a laugh. “Math?”

Grantaire shrugged. “My dad thought it was a good idea,” he muttered.

Enjolras nodded slowly. “Speaking of dads…”

Grantaire glanced at him, half-smiling. “Hell of a segue.”

But Enjolras didn’t smile. “I told you I was an orphan,” he said, “but both of my parents are actually still alive.” He shrugged and looked away. “They live in Zurich. We haven’t spoken in at least a decade.”

Something dark flitted across Grantaire’s expression before he smiled again. “Not supportive of the whole terrorism thing, or…?”

“Very funny,” Enjolras said, snagging the champagne and taking a swig. “Not supportive of the whole sexuality thing. The terrorism is probably just the icing on the cake.”

Grantaire nodded, his expression clouded again. “Speaking of cake—”

“Now who’s the one with the segues,” Enjolras said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Grantaire ignored him. “Look, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but I’ve never liked your cooking.” Enjolras was so startled by the statement that he burst out laughing, and Grantaire grinned. “Just isn’t your gift.”

Enjolras passed the bottle of champagne back to him. “I’ve never cooked a day in my life,” he told Grantaire dryly. “I always just get takeout and throw the containers out in the neighbors’ garbage so you wouldn’t see.”

Grantaire gasped, mock-scandalized. “Web of lies!” he exclaimed, though he was still grinning. He took a sip of champagne before looking at Enjolras as if with new appreciation. “We’re going to have to redo every conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Or just have some new ones,” Enjolras said, before taking a deep breath. “Speaking of which, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Grantaire said immediately.

Enjolras wet his bottom lip with his tongue before blurting, “What’s your body count?”

Grantaire looked surprised by the question. “Oh,” he said, before considering it for a moment. “Um, including you? Uh—”

Enjolras smacked his arm. “Not your sexual body count,” he said impatiently. “Your actual body count.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said again, sniggering. “Right.”

He fell silent, and Enjolras glanced at him. “Tell me,” he said, aiming for playful, though it sounded more like a command. “How many?”

Grantaire took another swig of champagne before rasping, “Does it matter?”

It was a stupid question – they both knew that it did. 

After another moment of silence, Enjolras cleared his throat. “Should I go first?” he offered.

Grantaire shook his head and sighed. “149,” he said, his voice low. “Lamarque would’ve been 150.” Enjolras wasn’t entirely surprised by that, and jerked a nod in response. Grantaire glanced at him. “What about you?”

Enjolras reached for the bottle of champagne. “Directly? Eight.”

Grantaire waited for him to swallow before prompting, “And indirectly?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Enjolras said honestly. “Probably several thousand. At least that I’m responsible for one way or another.”

Grantaire didn’t bother telling him that it wasn’t the same thing, and Enjolras had honestly never appreciated him more for that. “You ever have trouble sleeping after?”

Enjolras squinted into the sun beginning to stream through the bullet-hole ridden front window. “Nope.”

For a moment, Grantaire looked almost relieved. “Yeah, me neither.”

They finished the bottle of champagne in silence before Enjolras turned to face Grantaire. “So now what?”

Grantaire sighed. “Now, I need to call someone from my old team,” he said. “We need to figure out what the damage is so we can figure out our next move.”

Enjolras had thought the same thing and already planned on calling Combeferre, but he was happy to let Grantaire call his side first, especially since Grantaire’s contacts probably had more up to date intelligence than Enjolras’s. One of the few benefits of working for the government rather than against it.

Grantaire grabbed his phone and dialed a number he evidently didn’t have saved, which also made sense. “Joly?” he said, hitting the button on the screen to put the phone on speaker and setting it down between them.

“Grantaire,” Joly said, sounding relieved. “Glad to hear you’re still alive. I’ll take it that means your so-called husband had a bullet or two in his lying skull?”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow at Grantaire, who hastily said, “Joly, you’re on speakerphone. Say hello to Enjolras.”

“Hi,” Enjolras said pleasantly.

There was a moment of silence before Joly said, “Uh, hello. Nice to, um, meet you. Grantaire, do you think maybe you could take me off of speakerphone?”

“Anything you can say to me, you can say to him,” Grantaire said evenly. “We’re trying a revolutionary new thing called honesty.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Joly muttered.

Grantaire ignored him. “Anyway, we’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“A situation?” Joly repeated, incredulous, and sounded so much like Enjolras imagined Combeferre would that he had to bite back a smile. “That very well may be the understatement of the century. You two are fucked.”

He said it flatly, with an air of finality, but Grantaire just shrugged. “Maybe.”

Joly took a moment to answer, which Enjolras imagined he used to count to 10 in his head. “You’ve got the entire agency gunning for you,” he said impatiently. “Probably have everyone your husband’s pissed off over the past decade gunning for you, too.”

Grantaire have Enjolras an appraising look, and Enjolras just shrugged, nonchalant. “ So what do you think?”

Again Joly took a moment to answer, but this time, Enjolras suspected it was because he was somewhat more reluctant to tell Grantaire what he thought. “If he’s done even half of what his file says he’s done, you have a responsibility to bring him in, or end him.”

Grantaire half-smiled, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Enjolras’s, lifting his hand to press a kiss to Enjolras’s knuckles. “Tempting.”

“You were set up,” Joly said, his voice low and urgent, and the smile slipped off of Grantaire’s face, replaced by something more serious. “I’m sure you’ve put that together by now. Someone figured out where you were, or where he was, and they realized the cleanest way to end this was to let you destroy each other. Are you following me?” Enjolras certainly was, in no small part because he’d come to same conclusion several hours prior. “The point of this is simple: once you guys decide to get off the reservation, that’s it. Then you’re off the reservation.”

“How bad?” Grantaire asked, his eyes not leaving Enjolras’s.

“How bad would it be?” Joly sucked in a breath. “You’d see intergovernmental cooperation like we haven’t seen since World War II to bring you both down.” He sounded even more grim than before and Enjolras winced. Grantaire squeezed his hand, but Enjolras couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be reassuring or not. “Those are the facts: if you two separate from each other, you got a shot. Not a great shot, but you’ve got a shot. You two stay together, you’re dead.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Maybe,” he said again.

Joly snorted. “You become an optimist while you’ve been in hiding?”

“No,” Grantaire said. “And belief doesn’t come any easier to me now than it used to.” He ran his thumb lightly across the back of Enjolras’s hand still laced with his. “But you and I both know I’m not going down without a helluva fight, especially if I have something worth fighting for.”

“Yeah,” Joly said quietly. “I know.” He hesitated, but whatever he clearly wanted to say, he didn’t. Instead all he said to Grantaire was, “Stay in touch through channels when you can.”

“I will,” Grantaire told him before ending the call.

For one long moment, they both just looked at each other. “So that’s it, I guess,” Enjolras said finally.

Grantaire jerked a nod. “I guess,” he echoed.

Enjolras hesitated before saying quietly, “My way out is a boat standing by in Koh Kong.”

A parade of emotions flashed across Grantaire’s face, too quickly for Enjolras to track them all. “Cargo drop,” he said. “Atlas Mountains. So what?”

“So at least apart we know what the odds are,” Enjolras said steadily, far more steadily than he felt. “Let’s just call this what it is, and what it isn’t.”

Grantaire cocked his head. “And what do you think this is, and isn’t?”

Enjolras pulled his hand away from his, which was an answer in and of itself, he supposed. “I think that you and I went into this without an endgame in sight,” he said, not quite meeting Grantaire’s eyes. “We were both running from plans that fell apart.”

Grantaire’s lips twitched. “Those plans were a little flawed.”

“Well, maybe yours were.”

Something tightened in Grantaire’s expression. “90% of this job is instinct. My instincts got me out of there, and got me to you. It just wasn’t how you would’ve done it.”

It was the perfect opportunity, and Enjolras seized it. “No,” he said, with more heat than he even remotely felt, “because it was how you do everything: half-assed and sloppy. You are never the one to go the extra mile or put any effort in.”

Grantaire glowered at him. “You don’t want someone who puts effort in,” he snapped, “you want someone who’s just going to do what you tell them to.”

“I want somebody I can count on,” Enjolras shot back. “Someone who actually stands for something.”

“And that’s never gonna be me, now is it.” Grantaire said it flatly, a statement, not a question. “Not that you’d ever let me if I tried.”

“That if’s doing a lot of heavy lifting for you there.”

Grantaire stood, frustration clear in every line of his body. “Everything’s so fucking black and white with you. There’s no room for nuance or mistakes. Who can live like that?”

“Well, you don’t have to, do you,” Enjolras snapped. “Because this isn’t even a real marriage.”

He meant for that pronouncement to stand as a period at the end of the sentence that had been the mutual lie they’d been living for the past three years, but to his surprise, Grantaire barked a laugh, scrubbing a hand across his mouth. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me,” he said, and Enjolras blinked. 

“I—”

“So it’s a crap marriage,” Grantaire interrupted, with that soft little smile that had convinced Enjolras three years ago that this was a mistake worth making. “I’m a mess, you’re a disaster. We’re both liars.” He gave Enjolras a measured look. “But if you run, you will always be alone.”

Enjolras swallowed, staring up at him. “So what do you suggest?”

Grantaire shrugged. “There’s only one thing we can do: figure out who put this whole thing in motion, take them down, and then go back to doing what we’re actually good at. But together, this time.”

“What, just like that?” Enjolras said skeptically.

“Just like that,” Grantaire affirmed. He hesitated before reaching his hand out to Enjolras. “If you want to go, if you want to get on that boat in Cambodia, you know I won’t stop you. But no matter what lies I’ve told, I meant our wedding vows: til death do us part. Because I fell in love with you before I knew who you were, and I think I’m falling in love with you all over again.”

Despite himself, despite all the odds stacked against them, despite knowing this was a monumentally terrible idea, Enjolras couldn’t stop his smile, or his hand from closing around Grantaire’s. He let Grantaire pull him to his feet before pulling him close and kissing him once more. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, with you,” he said. “I love you.”

And for the first time in three years, he meant it.

— — — — —

“Dr. Fauchelevent? This came for you.”

Cosette’s brow furrowed as she took the envelope from her receptionist. It had evidently been hand-delivered, since it didn’t have a return address or stamp.

She nodded her thanks and took it into her office, closing the door after her. Then she cautiously opened it, relaxing when she saw what was inside.

It was part of a strip of pictures like you’d get from a photobooth, the top two judging by the tear. And it was unmistakably Enjolras and Grantaire.

In the top photo they were smiling at the camera, cheeks pressed together, but these were real smiles, nothing like the pained, fake smiles they’d both worn in her office.

In the bottom photo, Grantaire was kissing Enjolras’s cheek, and Enjolras was laughing.

She flipped the photos over to see if they’d written anything on the back, and they had.

For your success album - thanks for everything.

Cosette shook her head slightly, smiling, and she carried the photos over to her desk. Before she could do anything with them, her phone rang.

“Dr. Fauchelevent,” she said cheerfully. Her shoulders straightened and her smile faded when she heard the voice on the other end. “Yes sir.”

She listened for a moment before shaking her head. “No sir, no sign of them. The house fire was extinguished within a few hours, but the fire department hasn’t been able to confirm or deny if there were human remains found. And obviously, neither of them have been in touch.”

She glanced down at the photos still in her hand. “Yes sir, I think the assets most likely terminated each other, just as was planned.”

Shifting slightly, she tucked the phone receiver between her ear and shoulder so that she could feed the photo strip into the shredder next to her desk before adding, “I think we can firmly say that Operation: Lovebirds was a success. Mission accomplished.”

NAME: COSETTE FAUCHELEVENT ALIAS: NONE OCCUPATION: CLINICAL PSYCHOLOGIST EMPLOYER: CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

[sophieinwonderland]

We have so many thoughts on the "imitative DID" bs

We agree with everything you said. We have DID, we're pretty sure we're diagnosed.

Seeing it is filled with ableism about cluster B disorders is fucking awful. And this whole idea that having headmates alleviates the blame magically just demonstrates how unaware people are. System accountability is a massive thing!

And like different systems may have different levels of amnesia or amnesia for different things. Yeah sometimes we don't remember doing X bad thing! Genuineally. Based on who's fronting. Because usually those "bad things" are done in joint with a reaction to a trigger and us blowing up + going overboard. Who knew that alters with severe reactions because of not being well adjusted and understanding they're no longer in a trauma environment might have more barriers than others.

People also love for some reason to use documented symptoms of having trauma or even documented symptoms of DID as somehow being symptoms of... not having it.

And gods the way they treated that poor woman...

---------------- Now onto the "hysterical group" as they called it which I know they'd lump us under

We have a shit ton of amnesia. We are usually ambivalent to it. Often we both find it amusing and will sob and cry and get angry and feel nothing and laugh. Because with our multiple issues comes no emotional regulation. Shocker we have autism as well which makes us in our case collectively not be capable of comprehending emotions. We feel them but we literally with our form of the disability and how it affects us- are incapable of understanding emotions.

We also have excessive and extreme amnesia- we're one of the very extreme cases. And because we're an extreme case- these people would've shut us down. Somehow being so amnesic you have score "too high" is a red flag for these people?

And yeah we're happy with each other. Which our therapist AGREES with being a good thing. Some alters hate each other too but like eh it happens sometimes. (We're a massive system). And yeah we do actually state who's fronting if asked. Our therapist asks every session. And though we do have a mostly covert form of switching she can pick them out because she's a therapist who has seen this many times before. We when somewhat masking as we tend to irl even in her office have similar voices and unless it's a jump from one alter archetype to another- similar posture. But she can pick up on us dropping off and re-adjustng and asking to go over what was said or the lies of "zoning out" and "oh sorry I got distracted" that we're used to having to do.

We also tend to have our autism cause us to use very big words. And this is in all contexts as well. So I can definitely back that one up.

And then of course the addition sexism, sexualization, mockery, claiming of lying about trauma (because people love to ignore reality- we literally sobbed when our therapist first told us she believed us because that is the first time anyone irl has said that to our face- it is the only time we have felt safe in almost 2 decades).

And not even touching on the false memories topic. Literally earlier today (or yesterday its around midnight as I write this) we told our therapist about how people have claimed this to be real and she got genuineally mad. Incredibly upset and was very helpful in making sure we weren't slipping back into denial and going to spiral because of it again. It's something that is not and never has been a real scientific theory and all "evidence" of it does not meet the criteria to be considered viable.

A lot of people with trauma struggle to accept they have it. And especially in this case where the example they used was a MCSA (mother csa)- it really plays into sexism again. Part of sexism is also the idea women can't be abusers. This is something that has plauged trauma spaces for a while and driven out a lot of survivors. People think it's weird when a survivor is just as scared of women as men. Or is only scared of women and not men. people assume men are seen as scary and women are safe and docile as default. And that just is genuine sexism.

(sorry this was so long lol)

☝️👏

Agreed on all points. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences, and for this incredibly detailed and well-written addition! 💖

[chemicalcarousel]

dissociated rant about not relating to CDD content creators and being a pw/DID who's never had DID specific treatment due to the country they live in

switching is very disorientating for us. we don't have blackout amnesia between switches, but it feels like entering another dimension or something. like we remember what we did earlier that day, but it feels like it happened several days ago or like it was just a thought or a dream, but we have context clues telling us that it did happen just two hours ago

it is extremely confusing, especially because switches can even be hard for us to notice. it's taken us a couple of years now to learn what it is and we are still extremely early into our recovery journey since we only learned we were a system like 2 years ago and we've never had a therapist or psychiatrist who was knowledgeable about treating trauma and dissociation. they just kinda threw shit at the wall and were confused when it didn't help

we thought we couldn't have DID because we thought it had to be like how big youtubers who've been through years of DID therapy portrayed it online. we thought we had to have alters who knew who they were and what their role in the system was and when they split off. later we found out that this is not how it is for every person with a CDD - probably not most. it is normal not to know that you're an alter that is seperate on some level from another alter. it is normal to not know when you split off or why. it is normal to not blackout between switches or ever - amnesia can be many things. it is normal to literally know almost nothing about your system!!

full disclosure, we are pretty dissociated rn and this is essentially just a stream of consciousness type of rant (like our posts usually are lmfao we do love yapping), but idk we post these anyway in case they are somehow helpful to someone ig lol

we also used to think this was psychosis because a past psychiatrist misidentified it as such. also as bipolar moodswings and we thought we couldn't have a trauma disorder, because a past therapist said we didn't have "real flashbacks". we did think it was dissociation when we learned about that concept, but not that we literally had a severe dissociative disorder. we thought we were just unstable and forgot shit and sometimes we didn't control our body and talked and acted like a child, but that it was just us having to "snap out of it" or whatever. it's hard to explain, maybe we're gonna make a thought out post about some of these experiences in the future, but rn y'all just gonna get this dissociated rant lol

what i think i want to say is that DID doesn't feel like i thought it did based on videos i watched. i think this is partly because i am very early into my system discovery and recovery and never had specialised treatment and has only been given the wrong treatment since trauma therapy for people like me isn't available in my country and everyone here is extremely misinformed or underinformed. i've literally switched to very overt child alters in front of a therapist treating me for trauma and she said i didn't have ptsd, even when she did acknowledge that this age regression was clearly out of my control and related to being triggered and feeling like i am about to be abused again (i also didn't suspect DID at that point, i was just scared and confused)

idk man i think CDD experiences vary immensely depending on where you're from and how far into recovery that you are. we don't relate much to alter roles or big elaborate inner worlds or communicating with your alters. we are just fucking confused all the time and are trying our best to try to map out our system as we go through life

[dzpenumbra]

4/25/23

Wow, actually writing this at 2AM again. Take a wild guess why... If you guessed "sleep deprivation", you get a goddamn cookie.

4 hours last night. And the nap didn't work this time, so I just stayed up. Now I've got the sleep deprivation sweats, ever get those? Where it almost feels like a fever, and you get kinda numb and tingly. Fun.

I got to bed 2 hours earlier than normal, but couldn't fall asleep. It's actually been a while since I've had that problem. That used to be my primary life problem, it would take me like... at least an hour to fall asleep every night. I'd just lay there, and my mind would race and I'd toss and turn until I eventually fell asleep. I had a night like that last night, and then again when I tried for my "second-sleep" and failed.

I had more dreams including my mom, I'm sure that's part of it. I don't know. I think it's the Mother's Day ads that are doing it, because it's right around the corner... <eyeroll> I didn't feel emotionally upset when I woke up, it didn't feel like a nightmare. It didn't feel like my neighbors woke me up, I just... woke up. And I was up. And I did not want to go back to sleep for some reason. And I hopped on Instagram and... had the same fucking problem. 3-4 posts to cleanse the palate, then an ad to ruffle my feathers, rinse/repeat. After a bit of scrolling, I started to notice that nothing I was seeing was something I'm actually following. Like... okay, if you're just going to spam my feed with paid advertisements and "suggested" shit, why the fuck do I bother following people? Just fucking say "hey, this is the end of your feed, would you like us to suggest something more?"

Motherfuckers act like curating content for you without you asking is like... a favor. Let me tell you how utterly atrocious this system is, and why it should be opt in, not opt out. I am subbed to the PTSD subreddit. And I got suggested "r/OopsThatsDeadly", which is all visual content of life-threatening situations. Explain to me how that happened. Explain to me how or why that should ever happen. That shit upset me, man. Like... no one asked you to add these features, half the sites won't even let you turn them off, and I really can't think of how these features could work worse.

I tried to do music today. I didn't really work. I'm overthinking shit, or it's just not flowing right, I don't know. So I gave that a whirl for a good chunk of the day, but just tapped out after a while and switched over to art. I decided to hand-draw an abstract ink piece today. I have an empty blank sketchbook that I've been meaning to put shit in, and today was the day, I decided. I went with a sorta bubble-based organic pattern and over the course of the evening filled up the entire page. I can tell I haven't been drawing as much as I used to, my hand's all sore and shit. It just has some fill work to do and then it's done. It was a nice change of pace after this last concept piece, which did not have a lot of drawing, despite the animation work.

And that was basically the day, honestly. Super low-key. I decided to pull the trigger on reserving the shared car last night, so it's reserved for Wednesday afternoon. People from the building are supposed to come and inspect my floor's apartments on Wednesday, no clue what time of day, likely morning, knowing normal humans. So... my plan is to... get to sleep early tonight, then hopefully even earlier tomorrow... Get woken up by a knock on my door. Awkwardly walk them around my apartment half-awake. Then pound an energy drink, and head up to the car around 1PM, drive over to the National Park for the first time and film some trail walking footage for the desire path project. That's pretty much the last missing piece, short of an outro thing... which I'm still back and forth about. I mean... it can't hurt to plug my Patreon, it's just... it just sucks to remember that I have one... and to see how much metaphoric dust has accumulated there.

I started writing about my career for a minute there and then got super depressed, so... I'm just gonna clip that and save it for another time. Let's just say... "it's complicated". I remember the days I used to be really confident and proud to share my work on social media and shit... actually... do I? Actually... now that I think about it... I have never really been one to like... flaunt anything on social media. Like.. if people are interested in my shit - like genuinely interested - I'll tell them anything they ever wanted to know. I just... I don't commoditize my work. Which is so fucking foreign in this country, in this culture. To be a worker... who runs their own business... who produces a product, and the product is technically for sale, but is not explicitly advertised or marketed. Because it's an art piece, not a fucking postcard. And there's an insane amount of pressure to convert all of your art into marketable commodities nowadays. Stickers, prints, merch, you name it. And if that's what you want to do, fucking go for it! I even have a print shop (that I was pressured by my parents into setting up...) for my pieces that were kinda more catered to that... style, I guess. That intention. But the past few years, I found that mentality so fucking restrictive, and I found myself throwing away dozens of amazing ideas because I didn't think they were going to... work. I didn't think they fit my "business model". Good lord, talk about corporatizing art... Ugh.

My past year and a half was breaking from that mold. I have some things I can commoditize if I choose... but my Holy Grail quest has been searching for a good, supportive community that can get me linked up with people who genuinely want to fund my projects. And, on paper, I feel like Patreon could do that. And then I can just get that nasty "how can I hock mass-produced copies" mentality off of my fucking back. Because my work has always been about sentimentality, hand-craft, personal touch. Every piece different, every piece unique. Even before the tattooing, that was there.

I literally cut myself off from talking about my career to... talk about my career. ... Meh.

I just want to say... because it's floating around my mind over and over... it sucks to work very hard on projects day in and day out, from beginning to completion, and have it mean nothing to others. My mom would always give me shit, "you need to create more value for others." Not even kidding, direct quote, can't even count how many times I've heard that. Talk about seeds for a self-esteem complex, "you need to create more value". Bitch, my shit is priceless. Try putting a price on a series of stones I hand-polished over the course of the last few weeks of my cat's life, and the first few weeks of mourning her death. A grief piece. Try to put a fucking price on that shit. Try to sell those.

It frustrates me so much that the arts get so little support nowadays. Like people are perfectly content to watch another regurgitated remake of something they remember from 20 years ago... Gah... I'm generalizing. Not everyone is like that. I'm just gonna nip that one.

So yeah, clearly talking about that stuff is tough for me still, I'm sure it shows in my writing how scattered and chaotic my thinking gets around it. HOWEVER... when I get inspiration? Like my hoodie backpiece - I had a really cool idea to do commissioned pieces where I do like... "clothing tattoos"... in permanent ink or fabric paint, so they last as long as I can possibly make them last. When my inspiration calls me, it will literally pull me out of sleep. And I will work my hands to the bone, regardless of whether I have a client, regardless of bodily needs. And I don't mind the process at all. It's like... it's encoded into who I am as a person. I would get shit in high school and college because I would be drawing in the margins and on my pants and arms and shit constantly.

When I developed this system of just... striking while the iron's hot, capturing inspiration as it comes and seeing where it leads... I started to just... overflow with creativity. I couldn't stop, I had to force myself to stop working to eat and sleep. Kinda like me writing here. Once I get in the zone, in the Flow, and it's all linked up and just... going... I typically have to like... consciously stop myself or else I will go for literal hours. And... I'm gonna be honest... I don't see a ton of people writing more than 144 characters nowadays who aren't being paid to do it. And the ones who are? A lot of them are trying to find AI to do the lion's share for them.

I feel like it's coded into who I am. And making it work for me? That has led to me making some of the coolest shit I've ever made in my life. Shit I never would've dreamed of making. So yeah, I'm really lucky I have the opportunity to pursue this, because if I wasn't? I'd be daydreaming at some job I didn't care about all day every day, and that kinda just feels like... waiting to live, or something. Like waiting for a life to start, but like... I'm sorry... I don't think anyone is gonna come walkin into a shop I'm working at and just hand me the job I'm describing here. I'm not even sure how to describe it to people myself!

I just really need to power through these anxieties and get linked up with an artist's community, like a collective or something. But the one near me? I... I'm gonna be honest... I'm not sure I'll fit there... Like... one of my upcoming pieces is going to be a carved goat skull dyed with homemade inks made from incense ash and coffee grounds. And they've got like... stylized drawings of cats and shit. No offense, it's good work, it's just... you know... I feel like I'm kinda doing a different thing. Like, if I go to the person who only draws cats... and I say "hey, I had this idea the other day, I want to go in the woods and transplant moss into carefully measured geometric designs outlined with stones. But I want it to be a pop-up thing. Something that isn't clearly announced, something that just... organically appears in nature. How do I get someone to help me with my bills while I work on that project entirely by myself?" I'm gonna level... I think they're gonna look at me like I just sprouted 40 heads.

So... until I can get that figured out? I'm just living off the cash I got from selling my car, and whatever charity I get from my family... who don't talk to me. Scary way to live. But it's just where things are for right now.

So yeah... I'm super tired. But... you know what? I'll share what I worked on today. It's not done, so... yeah.

I haven't finished filling in the connecting bits, and I was going to completely fill the left side, by the spine. So yeah, a little break from the mold. It's been a while since I've done patterns like this, especially consistent circles, usually I do more organic shapes. I was just watching this video on soil compositions the other day that made me think of these types of designs, and how you can look at them two different ways, like a stretched membrane with holes in it, or like bubbles or particles suspended in a medium or something. Or maybe both? Idk, it's very meditative, very relaxing work.

As for future projects, there's the hoodie that I have to finish, my horoscope chart on the back of it and mandalas all down the right sleeve... there's the goat skull... I have a wood carving that's been sitting in my mind lately that I'd like to attempt at some point this summer, we'll see if I get around to it... I have my helmet and my grip tape on my new skateboard to customize... I still don't know what to do with either of them right now... I was thinking maybe a really detailed phoenix on the griptape? I don't know, I'm giving it time to come to me. And... I wanted to do a painting of the Egyptian god Thoth on my cargo shorts. Maybe some ornamentation to go with it. Not sure.

Ya think I've got enough work backlogged?! I love this desire path project, it's a really cool concept and the whole thing is turning out well, I'm just... I'm kinda ready to be done with it. XD Just to start working on something new, you know? And this, this ink drawing today? That was very refreshing, it felt great.

That's a really good vibe, so I'm cool ending there. :)

[teacup-captor]

Hi OP! Autistic DID system here. I love and adore your take holy shit.

I'd never considered that he'd reached final fusion before (honestly I forget it's a thing 😭) but I love that thought holy shit???

I definitely see him finding his DID to both be useful, yet inconvenient.

I don't have a lot of knowledge or experience with final fusion to be honest, but that honestly seems like a very Sherlock thing to aim for.

You're very correct in mentioning his relations to memory and identity, most of us will know of how pained he sounds in a certain episode, he seems to experience a lot of distress in not being able to trust his own memory. One way or another, that's definitely something he'll have had to work on.

Personally, though, I like to think that he's closer to functional multiplicity, like everyone in the system go by a collective identity (that being Sherlock, the he/him consulting detective guy person), and he's just far too busy trying to live his life to be concerned about exactly who's fronting when.

Like, I feel like he'd mostly have switches that he doesn't quite notice, everything about his system would very much so work in the background. Instead of "big" switches where a different alter fully takes over front, everyone would be quite similar, but would help the system regulate emotions in different ways. We have experience with this ourselves, a previous host as well as myself function like this, we have our own subsystems where one "main" alter will take care of the actual fronting, and other alters will go in and out of front completely unnoticed to help adjust our emotions as needed.

I feel like Sherlock may not entirely mind this process that goes unnoticed- and anything he does mind he'd work on, such as memory, dissociation, blackouts/grayouts and the likes.

From what I can tell from the podcast, it doesn't seem like Sherlock has blackouts. Now rn I can't remember if this actually happened or if this is something I'm making up but I believe there's some moments where John tries to get his attention and Sherlock has to take a moment to "recalibrate". This can very well just be that he spaced out and he needs a moment to catch up/process what's happening, but it can also be that he's had a grayout (which is when you forget stuff but it comes back to you once that's triggered), which we have personally. (Can you tell I'm just projecting our whole system dynamic onto him?)

Speaking of calibration, the moments where he's "uncalibrated" may not only be him having an autism moment, but it could also be one of his alters fronting- someone with less of a filter, potentially even a nonhuman alter, or even just someone who tends to front when his host is tired.

Oh, and if you've heard any of the mailbag episodes, you've noticed how he's different in those, right? (If you haven't. He's different in the mailbags)

When Sherlock is in "work mode", he's very focused on his work, he tunnel visions on the case, and he doesn't really talk about anything else.

When he's not though, from what we know (either from mailbags or from John tattling on what he's doing, thank you John) he tends to be way more creative, silly, easily distracted, and he also seems kind of more like a friend than a coworker (towards John- and in my heart tyvm)

So he could very well have one alter that fronts for work stuff and cases that's a lot better at tunnel visioning and using his energy for just one thing- an alter that's more inclined to be inattentive rather than hyperactive (yeah different alters can be affected by ADHD differently), and then there's one alter that fronts for more day to day life that's a bit more loose, probably more inclined to be hyperactive, and we potentially have a third alter (what I mentioned earlier with Sherls being "uncalibrated") that is more affected by autism than their other disorders (also a system thing)

OH christ I've written more than I expected. Okay one last thing.

Joel Emery's writing is really good. And so far, Sherlock's neurodivergency has near brought me to tears (/pos) and I feel seen without having to dig for it (which, as I hope I've made clear with this post I'm very willing to dig for it), however a part of me hopes he doesn't dive into Sherlock's DID, only because I know how horrible it can go. Then again, with his amazing writing so far I believe that if anyone, he can do it. I just hope if he decides to, he'll reach out to actual systems, especially systems who like the podcast, and he decides to talk to them.

If that's ever needed I trust he'll find someone in the patreon discord, I mean there's me, I don't go anywhere without my PluralKit, I have explained what it's for and it got the attention of one lovely James, at least. But there are also other systems within the community, and I know that there's resources out there,

Just some thoughts about DID Holmes in Sherlock & Co.

I need to preface this by saying I don't have DID, all I know about it is from reading and hearing people who do have DID talk about their experience. I can be wrong, I don't mean any harm by it and I encourage people to correct me (just please be kind).

Ok so in the Sherlock & Co. canon, Holmes has DID, amongst a variety of other things, which is a new and interesting thing to explore with this character. I'm not sure if we'll ever see it explored in the show, or if it'll just stay a part of a long list of what makes Sherlock neurodiverse. But I've been thinking about it and I'd like to dump my thoughts here.

I think it makes absolutely perfect sense for Sherlock Holmes to have DID. Even in the ACD canon, Holmes isn't known to have had a good childhood and a good relationship with his parents. Jeremy Brett liked to think Holmes didn't see his mother until he was like eight years old. Lots of neglect, coupled with the struggles of being a "difficult child" because of his perticular cocktail of disorders (ADHD, ASD, SPD, DMDD and ODD), is just the perfect recipe for repetitive childhood trauma that could very well develop into DID. There's no question in my mind that it was a good decision (at least an interesting one) to give Sherlock DID in this adaptation. And that got me thinking about how much he probably struggled with it.

I chose to believe that Sherlock achieved final fusion years before he met John. That's what makes the most sense to me. We know he's got official diagnoses for these things, so it would make sense to me that he got professional help for his DID as well. And based on his personality, and his need to be in control and know all the information available to him, I think final fusion would be the result he would have seeked, as opposed to functional multiplicity.

Now of course one can't logic their way out of neurodiversity, and one can't just logic their way into final fusion. But what works and doesn't work has to have some connection to the way someone is, and I think Sherlock Holmes would have worked his ass out in therapy to achieve final fusion because I think it would have been a horrible time for a man like him.

I'm thinking about how he would handle the amnesia (we know his views in memory and identity), the loss of control when a different alter fronted, the confusion of "waking up" in a completely different part of town, disassociating in the middle of important (or interesting) tasks, etc. etc. I also think that perhaps, his addiction could have been a result of a persecutor alter.

As someone who struggles with communication because of his autism, I think perhaps that could also affect Holmes' communication with his alters. I genuinely don't know if that could be a thing or not, I've never met anyone who had DID and autism so I'm not sure how correct that assumption is. But if that communication was also a struggle, it would explain why functional multiplicity wouldn't work as well.

And I don't know, perhaps we'll have more glimpses into Sherlock's past in the podcast, and we'll learn more about his DID diagnosis, perhaps he hasn't achieved final fusion, perhaps he very much still struggles with switches and memory loss. We don't know, but I do hope we get to explore it more! It ads a new layer of complexity to the character that we haven't seen in other adaptations, and I really love that!

We know that Sherlock Holmes is always neurodivergent, whether that is explicitly diagnosed in canon or not. The whole point of Sherlock Holmes as a character, from ACD canon to any modern version, is that he doesn't think like everyone else. That is literally the definition of neurodiversity. To take that away from Holmes is to destroy the character. But what this adaptation did, by giving a name to each and every trait of Holmes is very interesting and I hope they can handle it well! So far I've been very pleasently surprised by the way they have handled Sherlock's autism. It is very much a part of him and it informs his actions, but it is not all that he is. And maybe it's because Joel Emery's daughter is autistic so he has more knowledge about it than the other disorders, but I still hope we get to see more of that as well, especially Sherlock's DID.

Alright that's all kdjfhg

As I said, I don't have DID so take everything I said with a grain of salt. But if anyone has thoughts they'd like to share please come talk to me! :D And if anyone has DID and wants to share their thoughts about Sherlock & Co. thought the lense of someone with the disorder please do! I'd be very happy to read about it. (Also my ask is always open if anon is more comfy)

[boxesandrings]

I it’s me again I love your stuff. A idea I had inspired a fanart Shane reacting to F!farmer telling him she’s pregnant

( I’m just curious where that would go )

(Hi I promise this is much happier than what the description sounds like!! I think considering Shane’s mental health history life changing news like this isn’t something he’d brush past with no second thought, having a kid is kinda scary to everyone! Promise it’s mostly fluff but wanted to tag anything that could be triggering for others xoxo)

Title: A Father!

Rating: T (mostly for language, but Shane's earlier heart events are mentioned briefly)

Summary: The Farmer shares some exciting news with Shane! He's immediately over the moon, but quickly becomes overwhelmed.

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, Shane's early heart-events, a panic attack(?)

Characters: Shane, F!Farmer, Marnie, Evelyn, Pierre (pretty much all are mentioned)

Words: 3816

Shane took off his boots before entering the cabin, grimacing as he bent to do so. Marnie had needed help repairing some things at the ranch today, and he had spent most of it in a crouch. His thighs were punishing him for it now, sore with every step. Maybe he’d take a bath tonight, let his muscles soak in the warm water and try to relax a bit. Maybe his wife would take one with him.

He waddled into the house, his legs tight and called out. “I’m home! You in?”

The Farmer was often out late, working in the fields or with the animals, or sometimes off mining or fishing at the lake by Robin’s. It had been lonely at first, an empty house was something he’d never experienced, but he had found ways to preoccupy himself. After a month, he and his then girlfriend had a chat, the Farmer promising to be home by 7 every night, or calling and letting him know if something had unexpectedly come up otherwise holding her late.

“In the kitchen!” Shane smiled, making his way toward the room. It was barely 5, a sign for a good night. The sound of music grew louder and the smell of bacon wafted toward him. In the kitchen, he found his wife flipping pancakes but minding another pan on the back burner. She turned when she heard him get closer, waving her spatula before focusing back on the food. Shane walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her, kissed her cheek and rested his head on her shoulder.

“I thought it was my night to cook?” The pair switched who cooked every night, and Shane was certain it was his night. Or had he missed yesterday?

“Hello to you too.” The Farmer twisted her head around the best she could and puckered her lips, which Shane quickly kissed. “It was, but I just wanted to cook tonight. Go sit! I just finished up.” Shane squeezed his wife once more, but made his way over to the table. He groaned as he lowered himself into the chair.

The Farmer tilted her head as she carried a stack of pancakes for the table, watching as Shane rubbed his legs.

“Long day?” Shane nodded.

“Marnie called this morning and said that some pipes in the barn needed repairing, but neglected to mention that it was literally almost every single pipe in the barns, all the ones that carry water to the dispensers.” The Farmer set down the plate of bacon on the table, then slid into Shane’s lap, her arms around his neck.

“Oh, that’s rough.” Shane nodded, tilting his head forward into hers.

“They’re all so low to the ground, I essentially was in a squat all day. My thighs are killing me.” The Farmer nodded, her head moving his. She kissed his temple and stood up.

“I think I have some of that muscle cream lotion stuff that helps with the soreness. I’ll find it after dinner.” She made her way to her own chair, sitting down. “Not all bad though, squats are pretty good for the booty.” She smiled as she picked up a piece of bacon and winked.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Shane shook his head, but smiled as he used his fork to slide a pancake onto his own plate. Yoba, was he hungry. “How was your day?”

The Farmer bit her lip, smiling. “Oh, you know. Same old.” Shane looked up, cautiously eyeing his wife. She was biting her lip, trying to hide an obvious smile and kept looking up at Shane as she made her plate. Shane squinted.

“I feel like you really want me to ask what else happened.” His wife nodded, slightly shimmying in her chair.

“I heard some real good gossip.” Shane couldn’t help but laugh after she said it. His wife looked so pleased with herself, like she could barely handle keeping her excitement inside. She grinned incredibly wide, biting her tongue. Shane picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.

“Oh, what is it?” He raised his eyebrows a few times, making his wife laugh. After she had calmed herself for a second, she leaned forward, as if the knowledge itself were moving her.

“Someone we know is pregnant.” Shane dropped his fork and coughed. Now that was some good gossip. In a town as small as Pelican Town, secrets among residents were incredibly hard to keep, and something as big as that would have spread easily within a day to the entire population. How had he not heard yet?

“Who?” The Farmer leaned back in her chair, biting her thumbnail.

“Guess.” Shane ran his teeth over his tongue as he mentally went through each of the town’s residents.

“Jodie and Kent? I feel like they could have another, the gap would be the same from Sam to Vincent to this one.” The Farmer watched Shane, her face giving away nothing. Finally, she shook her head, the same shit-eating grin on her face. Shane thought hard.

“It can’t be Demetrius and Robin, he practically yelled from the mountain top when he had his vasectomy. I don’t think Pierre and Caroline even like each other anymore…” He watched his wife’s face.

“Keep guessing.” Shane threw his hands up, but continued to smile.

“You’re gonna make me keep guessing?”

“Come on! You’re getting closer.” Shane sighed.

“Let's see… Maru and Penny are together, so I don’t think they could… Sam is, and no offence to the guy, but the biggest virgin I’ve ever met…Harvey… no.” He looked down at the table, scratching his chin. “Sebastian and Abby could be… Alex and Haley, but I’m not sure if they’re broken up right now.”

He looked up toward his wife, but her face gave away no hints. “I mean, Elliot sleeps with practically every tourist, so statistically speaking…” Shane shook his head, his eyes wide, and his wife snorted. “I don’t know? Emily isn’t with anyone, Leah isn’t, but I might not know.”

Eyes wide, he looked back up at his wife. “It couldn’t physically… Marnie couldn’t…” The Farmer’s face finally broke, a similar look of horror on her own face.

“Oh Yoba no, don’t even—” She made a face, shaking her head. “She’s too old, and not to be mean but I think if your aunt was having a baby with Mayor Lewis?” She shook her head again, faster. “You’d find me in here retching.”

Shane leaned back in his chair and dragged his hand over the bottom half of his face, thinking. The devilish smile slowly creeped it’s way back onto his wife’s face as she watched him. Finally, he sighed.

“Who is it?” The Farmer suddenly stood up and ran to one of the cabinets, pulling out a sandwich bag. She sat back in her seat, and slid the bag across the table to Shane. He picked up the bag and realized there were three white, long sticks in the bag, each one with two pink lines on one end. He dropped the bag.

“Oh, gross, where were these?” He looked up at his wife, expecting the same grin, but was confused to see that it had fallen, a look almost like annoyance on her face.

“Good god, Shane, did you— do you think I’m going around picking up random pregnancy tests?” He paused, his mouth dropping.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. She didn’t find them, she took them. That’s why he hadn’t heard the gossip already, she was the only one that knew.

He jumped to his feet, forgetting the soreness in his legs. His hands covered his mouth, open in shock as he looked at his wife. She nodded at him, the smile returned to her face, hints of tears glistening in her eyes. He turned from the pregnancy tests on the table, pointing at them, to covering his mouth again and looking back at his wife.

She continued to nod, crying definitively now but still smiling. The pair had been married for almost two years, and while they hadn’t made a point of deciding to actively try for a baby, they certainly had been playing it fast and loose. Four months into the marriage they decided that what would happen would happen and stopped using any birth control, the Farmer throwing out any pills she had left. Lately, the couple had stopped even pretending they worried about the possibility of getting pregnant, and Shane had felt that a ‘we should start actively trying’ conversation was weeks away, rather than months or years.

Finally, Shane spoke. “Are… you’re…” The Farmer nodded, sniffling and smiling.

“Yeah, yeah!” Her voice was breathy, joyfully crying through the words.” Shane covered his mouth again and felt his own tears beginning to pop up in the corner of his eyes.

“I— I need you to say it.” The Farmer laughed.

“I’m pregnant.” Shane ran at his wife, scooping her up in his arms, pressing his lips firmly onto hers. She laughed as she kissed him back, her arms wrapped tightly around them as they stood in the kitchen, her tears against his face, or maybe they were his own?

They stood, holding each other, smiling and laughing and kissing, until Shane quite literally swept his wife off her feet, fireman carrying her into the bedroom while she laughed in his arms. He set her down on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, practically attaching himself to her as he kissed her face as she pretended to struggle beneath him, giggling the whole time.

He laid on his stomach next to her, his face turned towards her on the pillow. She watched him back, still laying flat on the bed.

“You’re pregnant.” The Farmer smiled and nodded.

“I’m pregnant.” Shane smiled, scanning his wife’s face.

“We’re having a baby.” She scooched her face closer, kissing the tip of his nose.

“We’re having a baby.” The two gazed at each other, minds racing with nothing and everything at once. Shane lifted himself up and moved closer to his wife, his face only inches away from hers, sliding one arm under her head and placing the other hand on her stomach. Shane bit his lip.

“When do we want to tell my family?” The Farmer sighed and looked up toward the ceiling.

“I don’t know. I want to tell them, but so much can happen in the first few months…” She trailed off, running her tongue over her top teeth. “Maybe in a month or two? Once the pregnancy is past that first little hurdle.” Shane kissed her cheek.

“I get it. Marnie tells Lewis, Lewis tells everyone.” He sighed now. “I mean, you’re only 30, I don’t think you’re high risk or anything.” His wife shook her head and smiled at him.

“No, it’ll be perfect.” She slid a hand over the one he had on top of her stomach. “I know it. Just in the small chance, I don’t want everyone knowing.” She looked back toward the ceiling. “Also, I don’t want all the attention right away. It’s such a small, small town. Something like this will rock the pelican town people to their cores.” She laughed, Shane joining in beside her. “But I promise, when we do tell people, Marnie will be the first to know.” Shane nodded.

“We’ll let her tell everyone else. Makes it easy.” The Farmer snorted.

“Yeah.” She drew circles on his hand with her thumb. “I mean, I guess we have to tell Harvey, for obvious reasons, but I don’t think he can legally tell others.” Shane laughed again, and pulled his hand out from under his wife’s, moving it up from her stomach to her chin. He pulled her face toward his, kissing her softly.

“We’re having a baby,” he whispered, his nose touching hers. The Farmer smiled, and kissed him again.

“We’re having a baby.”

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

Shane couldn’t sleep, far too excited by the day’s news. No matter how long he kept his eyes closed, or tried to count deep breaths, Shane was restless. His wife had fallen asleep over an hour ago and was curled into a little ball by his side, her head on top of one of his arms.

They were having a baby. Yes, it had been something he and his wife had talked about for a while, one day wanting children, but now it was actually happening. He turned his head to look at the Farmer, drooling on his arm, and smiled. They weren’t kids anymore, Shane well into his thirties, and his wife just into them, but it still felt so strange and new and exciting for them to be parents now.

Shane bolted upright, his stomach immediately twisting. The Farmer groaned on the bed next to him, violently awoken by the sudden removal of his arm. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and propped herself up, squinting in the dark.

“Did I sleep through the alarm again?” She yawned. Shane hopped out of the bed, bee-lining to the bathroom. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Shane slammed the door behind him, ignoring his wife’s further questions. He barely had made it to the toilet when he felt it deep within him, the nausea making its way out into the bowl. He didn’t hear his wife come into the room, only felt her hand on his back as he continued to retch. Finally, he laid his head against the bowl, breathing heavily.

“Shane?” He could hear his wife behind him start to speak but pause, unsure of what to say or ask, her mouth just kind of opening and shutting. She laid her head against his back and sighed. “Do you want some water?”

“I’m going to be a dad.” The Farmer chuckled behind him.

“Yeah. I think we covered that a bit earlier.” She lifted her head and resumed rubbing his back. “I’m excited too.” Shane sighed.

“I’m gonna fuck this kid up.” His voice cracked, and he watched as a tear fell from his face. The Farmer paused.

“What?” Shane pulled his arms up onto the bowl, wrapping them around his head.

“I’m a massive fuck-up, and I’m going to fuck up this baby too.” His shoulders shook, an attempt to hold back his tears. “I could barely take care of myself, how am I—” Shane’s voice broke. The Farmer let out a tense breath behind him, and began to rub his back again.

“Shane, no! Don’t say that.” He lifted his head up, and turned to look at his wife.

“I am. I mean, I was worthless. All I did was drink, I hated myself, and for fucks sake, I tried—” Shane paused as he noticed his wife’s lower lip start to tremble and sighed. “I could barely hold myself together until you got here, what, five years ago?” He bit his lip, the tears coming out faster now. “I’m doing good now, but what happens if it all falls apart again?” His voice cracked again, and Shane didn’t bother to hold back a sob.

The Farmer tried her best to pull Shane into her, them both sitting on the floor, but Shane just sat there numb. He wanted to have this life with his wife, a family together, but how could he be a dad? Why did she even want him?

“Shane, please.” He looked over to the Farmer, who was crying, her arms around him. He’d made her cry, husband of the year material! “I think you’re just… you did this when the dog died, too. It’s a lot of information coming in at once, big information. But it’s okay!” Her hands slid down his shoulder, taking his hands in her own. “We’re doing this together.”

Shane let out an indignant snort. “I can’t even handle the announcement, what happens when the baby comes?” His head was spinning. She deserved better. He loved her.

“Shane! You’re okay, it’s okay. We’re in it together, we have each other.” She squeezed his hands, scooting closer to him. “You’re going to be great, okay? You’re not a fuck-up. We all have rough patches, you just didn’t have the support system you needed. Please.” She kissed his temple, but Shane stared straight ahead, toward the wall. He wished he could shrink into a tiny ball.

“I can’t… I can’t mess this up too.” The Farmer pulled his head down to her shoulder, her hands carefully working their way through his hair.

“You’re not going to mess this up, babe. I think you’re just panicking.” She held him close, continuing to quietly stroke his head. “I’m nervous too, but I know I have you.” He loved her, but when she shifted away beneath him, the panic filled his chest again. “I’m going to go grab your anxiety meds. I don’t think you took them at dinner, they might help.” She fully slid out away from him, Shane’s heart beginning to race. The Farmer stood up and stretched out her back. “Now that I think of it, I don’t think either of us even ate.”

Shane felt sick to his stomach, and barely made his way back to the toilet bowl before throwing up again. The Farmer crouched next to him, her hand on his back. Shane could practically feel the concerned look burning into the back of his head.

“Even if I don’t mess up, I’m just passing a damn cocktail of mental illness along.” He sat back on the floor, and used his hand to try and rub away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. The Farmer above him sighed and sat back down, and wrapped an arm back around his shoulder.

“Babe, don’t—” Shane choked and leaned forward, wrapping his arms over his head.

“It doesn’t even stand a chance, I’ve just fucked it up from the beginning!” He could feel himself hyperventilating, what did his therapist tell him to do? “It’s gonna hate me, I’ve already ruined everything—”

“Shane!” The Farmer’s face in front of his snapped him out of the almost trance he was in, the distraction what his body needed to get in at least one deep breath. She had tears on her cheeks, but her voice gave away no sadness. “Stop it! Calm down!”

Shane leaned forward into her, practically up on his knees now to wrap his arms around her, holding her tight as he cried. She rocked her body, quietly shooshing as she held him, pressing kisses into the top of his head as she did.

“You’re not going to fuck this up,” she said after Shane’s breathing became more regular. “I mean, we’re going to make mistakes. Both of us! A lot. But we’re going to be new parents, it happens.” He nodded, squeezing his eyes tight. “You’re not going to spiral— I mean, now, yes— but it’s not going to get bad like it was ever again, okay? You have me, your therapist, Marnie, we’re all here for you.”

“I love you.” His words were muffled, his face still pressed into her chest. He felt a rumble, a small chuckle above him.

“I love you too. Also, you’re not the only one afraid of passing on bad shit. I mean, my mom is medicated for depression, and I have ADHD.” Shane raised his head, his face even with hers.

“Yeah, I guess.” The Farmer smiled, and reached on her hands up to cup Shane’s face, wiping away a tear with her thumb.

“Yeah, dummy.” Shane smiled and kissed his wife, before pulling back and biting his lip.

“I’m— I’m so excited, I really am.” His eyes met hers briefly, before he looked away again. “I want this with you, truly, I—” The Farmer leaned forward and kissed her husband again.

“I know, Shane. I get it.” They held each other on the floor, their foreheads pressed together. Shane tried to calm himself, breathing in time with his wife. “We’re in it together, alright? We’ve got it.” Shane nodded.

“I know, I’m sorry.” The Farmer smiled.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be a big change.” She chuckled to herself. “We’ve got nine months, I’m sure this won’t be the last freak out. That either of us have.” The Farmer stood up, and offered a hand to Shane, smiling. “Good luck to you when I have to start buying maternity clothes.” Shane grinned and took her hand.

“What? You’re cooking up a baby in there, you’re gonna grow.” He kissed his wife on the cheek and wrapped his arm around her.

“Oh, I know that now,” the Farmer said, leading the two of them back into their bedroom. “But I’m sure hormone-y me will have to reckon with that later.”

Shane snorted as the Farmer sat down on the bed, and pulled Shane down into her. He kissed her forehead and climbed over, pulling the covers up on his side of the bed. She snuggled back into him, her head resting on his shoulder, but Shane could feel her squirming.

“You feeling better?” Her voice was quiet. Shane nodded, and wrapped his arm around her head.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Her arm snaked its way over his chest, reaching up to hold the side of his head. “You’re gonna be great.”

Shane smiled, and moved his head to kiss the palm against his cheek. “You too.”

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

It took Marnie two weeks to figure it out. Something about the way the Farmer was moving, she had told Shane, was different, and trapped him in her kitchen until he confessed. Marnie was over the moon, and promised not to tell anyone, but Shane ran home and told the Farmer straight away. His wife had bit her lip but shook her head, smiling. “If anyone was going to piece it together, it’d be her.”

In Marnie’s defense, it was almost a week before Evelyn congratulated the pair at the general store. Shane watched as Pierre blushed and ducked behind a shelf, but the Farmer thanked her and moved past, reaching for a bag of flour on the top shelf.

“You know, that was a pretty good run, all things considered.” Shane nodded, agreeing with his wife.

“I mean, that has to be a record! What, five? Six days?” The Farmer laughed, and hoisted the last grocery bag up into the truck. She caught Shane’s gaze, and tilted her head.

“What?” Shane realized he had been staring at her, a dopey look on his face. He smiled, face turning pink.

“Oh, nothing!” He hopped up into the truck, his wife following suit beside him. He looked at her again. “I’m gonna be a dad.” She smiled now, rolling her eyes.

“You’re gonna be a dad!” Shane laughed, and started the truck. The two chatted excitedly the whole way back, discussing the future addition to both their home and family.

[teddy06writes]

Fight the World For You

Requested by this anon: “could you do a sapnap fic where reader is a trans guy (maybe emo too) and he’s a streamer like sapnap. and then one day reader was streaming and he got a lot of hate and then sapnap decided to address it on twitter telling people to stop? oddly specific but i’d appreciate it if you want to do it!!:)”

sapnap x transmale!reader

trigger warnings: transphobia, a few swears

premise: some people in your chat take a ‘joke’ way too far, and your boyfriend is quick to defend you (don’t think to hard about how similar this description is to the last transmale!reader fic they are different, I swear)

{Also I switched this up just a bit so sapnap just actually comes on stream and threatens to fight people as well as threatening to fight people on twitter}

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The thing is chat-” You stopped abruptly as part of the pride flag hanging from the ceiling came down, landing softly on your head. 

“Ope,” You chuckled, moving it out of the way of your face, “Sorry guys, my flags fell.”

Glancing at the chat you searched for the tack, “Yeah chat that’s right, trans rights!” 

You found the tack, moving to climb up onto your chair to pin it back into place as you chuckled at there antics.

“I mean at least the actual stream isn’t the scuffed part.” You laughed. 

You fixed the flag, sitting back down to un pause the game, catching a flash of a message, ‘damn she really said switch it up’ 

You read it aloud, muttering, “What the hell does that even mean? Who are you talking about?” 

Suddenly it seemed the chat was full of similar messages, all of them using she/her pronouns, and then every few messages was someone telling them to stop. 

“Dude what the fuck?” 

‘she’s so confused lol’ 

You glared at your camera, “Didn’t realize my chat was full of assholes.” 

You did your best to ignore them as you continued on wandering around the smp, but then a donation cam through, triggering the text to speech,  “Look chat, she’s already used too it cause she lived half her life a she.”

You froze, blinking back tears that had been steadily forming, “What the fuck?” 

The chat was still a mix of sympathy, people telling others off, and people misgendering you, and off to the side you could see Nick texting you, asking if you were okay. 

“Awww is princess gonna cry?” 

It took you all of two seconds to end the stream, tears beginning to flow down your cheeks as you reached over to accept Nick’s call. 

“Are you okay? I already started banning everyone I could find saying that shit- love?” 

You sniffled, angrily wiping away tears, “Why are people so cruel?” 

Almost immediately you could hear him starting to move, “I’m coming over, and I’ll personally fight everyone who said anything rude on stream.” 

“okay.” You croaked, slowly standing up and shutting down your computer. 

In the time it took your boyfriend to get to your apartment you had moved out into the living room, stopping to get a glass of water and dry your tears before lodging yourself in the corner of the couch. 

Nick quietly let himself in, quickly sitting down next to your and pulling you into his arms, “Hey love, it’s gonna be okay, I’ll fight them all. No one misgenders my boyfriend.” 

You sniffled leaning into his chest, “Dude all I did was fix my pride flag.” 

“They can go fuck themselves,” He pulled back for half a moment, studying your face, “How are you still so handsome even when you were crying?” 

You could feel your face flush, “Shut up.” 

“I’m not wrong!” 

When you didn’t answer he just held you tighter, “I’m gonna go live from your pc to yell at some people.”

“Nick- no- you don’t-” 

“Shhhh,” He cut you off, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Let me fight for you.” 

~~ A few hours later Nick was sitting with you in front of your pc, reaching around you to hit the go live button. 

Soon your chat was flooding with people, some apologizing for others behavior, and a few even repeating it. 

“Okay guys we need to talk.” Nick said, half glaring at the webcam. 

You sighed, trying not to curl in on yourself. 

“Whatever the fuck you guys pulled earlier was not okay. Purposely using the wrong pronouns is not okay, misgendering someone is not okay. Just because someone identifies as something other than what they were born as doesn’t mean that you get to invalidate them.

And I will have you know that if any of you ever invalidate or misgender my boyfriend again I will have your forcibly removed from the internet.”

Someone sent in a donation, yet again triggering text to speech, “Dude calm down, it was just a joke” 

“Just a joke?” Nick scoffed, “Just a joke?! You can’t fucking tell me that disrespecting someone like that is a joke? He clearly didn’t think it was a joke! (y/n) did you think it was a joke?” 

You shook your head as he continued, “You all saw how quickly he ended stream, that's not something that happens because of a joke! Here's how it is people! You’re all gonna respect my boyfriend and his pronouns, and if you don’t I will find you and I will fight you.” 

He paused, staring at your monitors for a moment, “Good?” 

Chat began to repeat the word. 

“Good.” And then he ended stream. 

You sighed, turning to him, “Thank you.” 

“Of course love, Nick smiled, pulling you out of your chair and into his arms, “I’d fight the word for you, you know?” 

[koobunno]

Would it be alright if I pulled you closer?

smut, angst, sociopath!taehyung, dad!taehyung, husband!taehyung

A/N: This fic might be triggering to some, I'm sorry, I just wanted to cry a bit. :((

T/Ws: sex abuse, fingering, abusive husband/partner, oral sex, mild physical abuse

Word Count: 1,733 words

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Taehyung kissed your neck as he draped his arms around you. “Taehyung” you mumbled as you closed your eyes, confused if you're pleased or scared about what’s about to happen. He turned you to face him and cupped your cheeks while looking at your lips. “Hmm? Don’t tell me you’re tired” he smirked as if he knew what you’re just going to say. “No, it’s just, our son might hear us” you made up an excuse to get through this, well at least you tried. “No, he won’t” replied to you still smirking.

He then rapidly caught your lips with his, still analyzing what’s happening you didn’t get to respond to his kisses not until he squeezed your sides. It was not a gentle one and it made you wince a bit. You just closed your eyes and responded to his kisses as you always would whenever your husband feels needy.

The kiss went on to be wilder, needier and lustful. Still holding your eyes shut you felt how his hands travelled throughout your body. You felt it squeezing and spanking your ass multiple times, then went to your breasts to massage and play with your clothed nipples. You whined because of the unwanted pleasure he’s giving you.

His fingers went to your shoulders and pulled down the strap of your nightgown. At this point you’ll just be compliant, as he labeled how you should be. It exposed your breasts directly for you are not wearing a bra. He cupped your breasts and pressed them together. He put his mouth on your left bosom and ate it like a needy infant. He has bitten it and it made you scream because of the ache he gave.

“Stand up, face the wall” he authoritatively told you. You stood up as you didn’t want any more fuss to happen. While you’re facing the cold wall you can hear his clothes drop to the ground. Closing your eyes, you felt his hands trace your waist, he collected your hair after and asked you to give him the band on your wrist. You gave him the hairband and he tied your hair neatly.

After that, his hands went to the waistband of your underwear. Pulling it slowly as if he is seeing a sight. Still with your eyes shut, you felt how his long fingers slid to your pussy, inserting a finger inside you, and withdrawing it to spread your juices around. “Shit” you mewled as he massaged your now-wet clit, and went on fingering you again. Pinning you against the wall, you can feel his dick touching your back as he plays with your pussy with his digits.

When you think he got bored of what he’s doing, you felt the tip of his penis at your entrance, your body jolted as you felt the sensation. “Stay still” he whispered into your ear and bit it afterwards. You nodded as he turned you over and pushed you down to kneel. You knew what to do, you licked your lips and held on his shaft as you put it in your mouth. Taehyung moaned as you played with your tongue. He went hard by grinding his hips more causing you to gag.

Not wanting to stop there, Taehyung and you went to the bed again, he made you sit on his face as his tongue wiggled around you, holding your breasts tightly, you don't know what to feel, really. If it’s pleasure or despair as you let your husband use you for pleasure again.

Taehyung then pushed you back to the bed, harshly. Sipped and bit your neck, leaving marks as you feel his tongue against it.

You’re just startled when you felt him into you and started to grind fast. Hearing those sloppy and wet strokes, you just closed your eyes and let out a moan. Taehyung, still pounding you while eating out your breasts simultaneously.

He inserted two fingers on your mouth, as the push and pull doesn’t stop. He then halted for a while, made you stand on all fours, entering you from the back. Holding your hips to ensure the pace he wants. You pushed your face on a pillow for you don’t want to scream too loud. Spanking your butt, Taehyung didn’t let his speed down. “Ahhhh-shit” you heard him mewl as he pushed himself deeper.

“Ahhhhhhh-fucking shit” he shouts as you felt his cum wash your inside walls. You shut your eyes tightly again as if you’re thanking all the odds that it’s done, at last. Taehyung pulled out of you and went directly to the bathroom, maybe to wash himself. You’re still lying on the bed covering your body with the blanket, tired from what happened. The switch went off and you felt your clothes being thrown at you. He’s going out somewhere again, after using you.

“Taehyung” you called for him. “Yes?” he answered while he’s putting on his watch. “Please don’t forget your son’s Award Ceremony tomorrow” you told him like you were begging, knowing he’ll be out for the night again, you just wanted to remind him. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me.” he told you as he was leaving you in the cold room, putting your clothes on.

———

You’re trying to sleep but you shifted on the other side of your body as you felt an uncomfortable ache at your waist, you stood up and went in front of the mirror to check. It displayed a big red mark because of the way Taehyung squeezed your waist earlier. You just grabbed a compress to put on it while you’re trying to sleep alone in a big bed.

———

Barely getting any sleep, at 5:00 am you heard the doors unlock, because of your husband who isn’t that drunk but reeks of alcohol. You went there to check and he just rolled his eyes on you, as expected. He went up straight to your bed and slept as if he’s tired and weary. You just went back to bed to get a hold of sleep even for a short time.

Hours later you woke up just in time to help your son prepare for school. “Mommy, I’ll see you and daddy later at school okay? You promised.” he assured you. “Yes, baby, you’ll see us later” you nodded and kissed him before he ran towards the school bus waiting outside.

Checking on Taehyung who is still in a deep slumber, you prepared yourself for work. As you sat in front of the vanity mirror, you saw noticeable marks on your neck that’s why you made an effort to cover those visible ones.

You left a note at the door reminding Taehyung again for your son’s event later that day before leaving. You swung on your bag and it hit your waist, you flinched as you felt it hurt, knowing it’s now progressed to being a bruise. You let the idea go and went straight to work.

———

“Uhm, we don’t have any meetings scheduled this afternoon right?” you asked your secretary, ensuring you don’t compromise work to attend to your child. “None so far, ma’am.” she told you as you told her that you’ll take an early-out for your son.

You arrived at your child’s school and went to the hall, your son greeted you and immediately asked about his father, who wasn't visible by the time. “He'll be here soon, now go back to your seat, I’ll be sitting here at the back” you told him as he ran off back to his seat. You called Taehyung and after 5 missed calls he answered. “What do you need?” he said over the line. “Uh, when will you go here? Your son asks about you.” you told him honestly. You heard him sigh deep and told you he’s coming. He forgot once again, if only you hadn’t called him, you’ll deal with your child crying for the rest of the day again.

-----

Taehyung arrived at the venue minutes later, just in time because your son’s preparing to go up the stage with his classmates, Taehyung held his hand before you did so you just went back to your seat. The ceremony started and your son received the prestigious award, still holding his father’s hand. They went down the stage and he showed you his gold medal and a plaque. You smiled at him and kissed his cheeks, Taehyung looking at him, smiling.

Taehyung suggested treating his son. You counted yourself out because you can feel Taehyung’s sharp glare at you. “I still have something to do for work, baby bear.” You made an excuse because your son isn't happy about it but you can’t stand him seeing you and Taehyung fight over nonsense matters while he’s on the treat. “Enjoy with daddy, first hmm?” you told him before you went to your car and drove home.

Arriving at your house, you went to your room and changed clothes, a thin flimsy white shirt and a short. You decided to change the sheets and clean the room. After, you went for a nap. Hours later, you woke up to a noise coming from the main door. It’s definitely your husband and your son. You saw your child carrying loads of toys, his father took him to a spree again. You just smiled at the sight of him being so happy to spend time with Taehyung. “Come on, show mommy what you got earlier.” Taehyung told your child and the little one excitedly pulled out everything his father bought for him. While Taehyung grabbed your waist, slightly squeezing it, you silently squirmed as your side ached once again. “Bedroom in 20 minutes, hmm?’ Taehyung whispered in your ear, making you shiver. “Isn’t this cool, mommy?” Taehyung sarcastically told you while holding one of the toys he bought for your son. You faked a smile as you nodded and answered with a yes. Your son giggling because of excitement for all of his new toys.

You just put out a lethargic smile because you decided to endure everything for your son, even if it’s an exchange for your well-being. It’s for your son after all, he’s happy whenever his dad's around, even if it’s the complete opposite for you.

You’ll still pull Taehyung closer despite the stinging pain you feel.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Just Accept it! (READ THE DAMN DISCLAIMER!)

A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I'm back with another fic for you! Couldn't find a better pic

Pairing: Yandere Henry Cavill x Trans male reader; Tyler Hoechlin x trans male reader. (mentioned)

Rating: MATURE

Warnings: Male Pregnancy, use of drugs, kidnapping, no consent. (what you expect? This yandere)

Word count: 3560

Summary: It started out with acting, then it went to stalking, and it went to him kidnapping you. And it ended with you spending the rest of your life with him.

I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!

If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?

Keys:

E/c: Eye color

H/c: Hair Color

H/l: Hair length

S/c: Skin color

Y/a: Your age. (Pick an appropriate age)

DISCLAIMER!: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING TRANS MALE READER. I'M SORRY IF ANYTHING OFFENDS ANYONE.

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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Henry was currently waiting for this someone to come. 'I wonder who it could be.' he thought to myself. We were going to start acting in the new TV show, Superman & Lois.

(Okay, I know that Tyler stars in this, but I'm just going to switch him out with Henry and play as Lois. You can change the name)

He then sees some guy, who looks small and innocent. You had h/l and beautiful, most dazzling e/c. His s/c looked smooth and soft like a freshly made bed. (?)

He looked to be Y/a. You looked so ethereal, a walking sex god. The source of men's sexual desire. He was so sexy and hot- 'Wait- what am I thinking? I'm not gay- I have a beautiful girlfriend, I need to stop thinking like this.'

Henry sees you approach me. "Hi! I'm assuming your Henry right?" you questioned, tilting your head. "Y-yeah- I'm Henry! N-nice to m-meet you!" Henry sturred over my words.

'Shit, why am I nervous around him? What is he doing to me?' Henry then heard a little chuckle. 'His laugh- AAGGHH!'

"Well, nice to meet you, Henry, I'm M/N!" you gave your hand out, Henry hesitantly shook it. 'His hands are rough and large!' you thought.

(Sorry, but I'll be using M/N.)

'His hands are so soft, like a baby's skin! I just wanna hold it forever-' Henry said to himself before pulling back. He didn't realize he had a rough grip on your hand.

"Ah- sorry about that," Henry said scratching his head out of embarrassment. "It's okay!" you gave your famous smile. Henry blushed.

'Why is this happening?! What is he doing to me!' Henry's mind was going all over the place, he was having a gay panic. 'What's wrong with this guy? I thought he was supposed to be calm and collected?'

You had no idea what was going on with him. "Well- I gotta go..." you said, backing away slowly before going to someone and starting a conversation with them. Hoping it won't be as awkward or weird

Henry just stared as you walked. He didn't notice that his hands were twitching. You could feel his stare piercing through your head. Such a dark and dominant stare.

'Maybe, he's just staring at something that so happens to be in my direction!' you said to yourself.

(No you dumb shit!)

"OKAY! Everyone, we're gonna be starting soon. Everyone to your stations and gets ready!" The director yelled. "Take M/N and Henry to their dressing rooms."

"Okay, sir. Come on!" They grabbed you and Henry to get dressed and ready.

They put on Henry's iconic Superman suit and they dressed you as Lois or the male equivalent of her. You looked at Henry and blushed a little. 'If I wasn't married to my husband, I would've gone for him. But he's straight.'

You looked away so Henry wouldn't notice but he did. 'He was blushing... AT ME- STOP IT!' Henry then glared at you. You noticed his glare and looked away. He didn't mean to glare.

"Okay, everyone get to your positions! Do you two know your lines?" The director asks looking back and forth. You both nodded your heads. "Okay, go on the scene and be ready!"

Once you both got there and got in position, the director yells, "ACTION!"

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TIMESKIP (END OF THE SCENE)

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(I don't know what they be doing at the studio.)

"Hey- Uh... M/n!" Henry called out. You turned to face Henry, "Mh?" Henry looked at you trying to get the words out. "Uh... You have something to say?"

"Uh- well." Henry scratching his head. "I'm sorry... for glaring at you earlier today." He was now blushing hard while grinning.

You looked at him confused about what he was talking about. Then you remembered earlier. "Oh-, Its okay Henry! I know you didn't mean it." you smiled at him, reassuring him that it was okay.

You were about to continue, but you got a call. You looked at the caller ID. "Hubby😘" is calling, your husband was calling. "I got to take this call." you then walked away to a private location.

Henry was curious so he followed you. He knows this is eavesdropping, but he wants to know, "what was so important about a phone call?"

Apparently, he took too long but he heard this. "I love you too." Henry left before you could spot him. 'He loves someone? Why do I care if he is in love with someone?'

"I'm gonna have to go! Bye Henry!" You then left leaving Henry behind to think about what was happening.

'What are you doing to me M/n? I never felt this way before.'

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TIMESKIP (6 months)

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You and Henry have been acquaintances for 6 months. Henry's feelings for you grew and grew but there wasn't that ultimate trigger that would finally set the bomb off.

Until now and later on today. (so two ultimate triggers.)

You wrapped your arms around Clark's neck. You were shorter than, so all you saw was his muscular chest. Clark then wrapped his arms around your waist, looking into your beautiful e/c.

Alarms were going off in Henry's mind as he pulls you closer to him. 'This is actually happening.' M/n smells so nice like fresh lavenders.

Your lips then met Clarks. You tilted your head a little to the side to have better access. Though his nose was kind of in the way. You closed your eyes as you fully gave in.

'He tastes so sweet like chocolate and strawberries.' (You eating my children?) Henry was getting real intimate with the kiss.

(Was that a good kissing scene? I have never seen the TV show)

"CUT!" you pulled back before walking away to get a drink. Henry was still in a daze. Your lips were so soft and delicious, he wants more. Henry never felt like this when kissed his girlfriend.

In fact, he was getting disgusted by her touch and only wants you to touch him. Hell, sometimes you made him hard and he would imagine having sex with you while having sex with her...

He was about to approach you before he heard that... voice. "BABE!" his girlfriend... Henry then felt two arms wrapped around him and a small kiss on his lips.

Henry felt like he wanna puke. It wasn't like the kiss he had with you- even though it was just acting but it was real to him- but he had to act like he enjoyed it. "HI! You must be Henry's wife, right?"

You intervene in their conversation. "Yes, I'm Henry's wife- well girlfriend! My name is Natalie Viscuso! You must be M/n? I'm a big fan of you!"

You and Natalie kept talking and getting along. Henry was just watching, he was getting angry and jealous. After about 30 minutes, Natalie went back to Henry.

"Sorry about that, I got carried away. How about me and you have some fun when we get home?" Henry just nodded his head without giving an expression.

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TIMESKIP (5 hours later. At Henry's home)

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(I know that Henry's real-life GF/Wife is a good lady. Remember, this is fiction)

"A-ahh! H-henry... you f-feel so good! Y-your... dick is... s-so BIG!" Natalie moaned as she rode Henry's cock.

Henry didn't seem to enjoy it, not one bit. He pushed- not too hard - Natalie off of him. "Why did you stop?" she said confused, Henry was getting dressed.

Henry didn't pay attention to her and just walked out.

The next morning, the news of Henry's and Natalie's break up spread like wildfire. Nobody understood why he broke up with her, they were doing just fine.

Henry didn't feel upset. While walking around last night, he began to think how you made him feel feelings he has never felt before.

He likes how you touch him- even though you didn't mean to. He likes your soft lips- even though you two were acting. He feels disgusted whenever he was with Natalie. Angry and jealousy surge through his veins whenever you talked with someone that wasn't him.

Henry now accepted that he likes you.

When you got the news of them breaking up, you were shocked. "Henry are you okay? I heard you and Natalie broke up," you asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Henry replied, nonchalantly. "You don't seem upset about it..." Henry just stared at you with his deep, dark eyes. 'What's wrong with him?'

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TIMESKIP (3 MONTHS)

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You've been waiting months to tell Henry something very important. You were nervous, scared, and... paranoid.

During the 3 months of waiting, you feel like you were being watched. Wherever you gom even in your own room.

You told Henry about it -since he was a close friend- and he told you not to worry about it saying, "You're just paranoid, it something you shouldn't worry about."

But you still kept your guard up. You made to look around and if you see someone looking suspicious. But tomorrow, you were going to come out to him.

You arrived at a... Dunkin Donuts (?) and ordered some donuts and coffee and took a seat by the window. You looked out to see some people walking by. There was a car that had black tinted windows, you couldn't see who was inside.

You pulled your phone to text Henry to come and talk with him. But that wasn't necessary, Henry walked and turned in your direction. "Hey, M/n!"

'How did he know I was here? Or was it a coincidence?' you thought. Then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder. "Mind if I sit here?" you shake your head.

Henry took his seat and ordered some food and coffee. 'It's too crowded here.' While seating there, you could feel stares and glances. You just ignored them.

Henry stared at you with love in his eyes, taking in all your features. Then he notices something on your finger, 'Is that a ring? IS HE ENGAGED? Or..... is he MARRIED!'

Rage was running through his veins but he had to calm himself down or you'll notice.

You had enough of his staring and break the silence. "I need to tell you something but it can't be here." that snapped Henry out of his daze. "What do you need to about?"

"It's something personal and it can't be here." You said getting up, and stressing your muscles, and heading out the door. Henry nodded his head before getting up and following you out.

As you two were walking, just taking in the fresh air and sounds of cars driving by. "So, what did you want to talk about?" Henry turned to you.

"Well... I hope you don't look at me differently..." you said looking down at the ground. "I'll never look at you differently bab- M/n."

You took a deep breath. "I'm trans..." you said quietly but Henry still heard you. "Oh... just because you're trans doesn't change what I see in you. You're still a man," Henry said putting his hand on your shoulder.

You smiled at him before jumping onto him. Henry wrapped his arms around you. He wanted to stay like this forever, you just in his arms feeling your warm, heat against him.

But sadly, you pulled away. "Thank you! Thank you!" you're glad Henry accepted you.

But Henry knew you were trans. Remember how you feel like you were being watched? Well, that was all Henry, he would watch you play with yourself. He would masturbate to this, he was quite turned on about this discovery.

'I'll accept whoever you are baby.'

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TIMESKIP (1 week)

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It's been one week since the whole coming out thing and Henry was gathering the confidence to ask you out. But today is the day.

Henry got a text saying, "Meet me at the park." so naturally he did. He didn't spot you at first until he recognizes your h/c. Then it's at that time he notices someone else there.

This bastard had his arms wrapped around you, and he gave small kisses on your lips. Henry's right eye twitched as he watched the display right in front of him.

'Who the hell is he?!? Is HE the one that M/n married?' he snapped out of it when you called his name to come over.

"I'm glad you came Henry! This is my husband, Tyler Hoechlin. Tyler, this is Henry, one of my friends!" you said with a smile. 'So, that means his name is M/n Hoechlin.'

Tyler gave his hand out and Henry shook it. Henry had a rough grip on his hand, squeezing it. And he just glared at him. "Well, let's go!"

Henry just glared at Tyler the whole time. 'M/N should ONLY have my last name! I should be the one with him!' Tyler notices how Henry was glaring at him the whole time. But he wasn't fazed by it.

'I'm gonna find a way to get rid of you! Or I could just take M/n?'

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TIMESKIP (3 DAYS)

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It had been 3 days since Henry met your husband, and he wasn't happy at all. Today he wants to hang out with you, and talk about something. Henry called your phone and waited for you to pick it up.

Meanwhile... (This is my first shot at writing smut with TMR.)

"A-ahh! d-daddy... your c-cock... is so... b-big!" you moaned as rode Tyler like your life depended on it. "Fuck, you're so wet and warm for me, M/n. Your tight little pussy feels amazing!" Tyler groaned as he thrust further into you.

Tyler sees that your phone is vibrating, 'Henry?' Tyler smirked, he knew that Henry was glaring at him with hate and stared at you with love. 'This will teach him who my baby boy belongs to.'

"Be a good boy for daddy and answer the phone." Tyler handed you the phone, you took a look at the caller and noticed it was Henry calling. "D-daddy... I-i can't do... it with y-you- thrusting... i-into me!"

Tyler stopped his thrusts but as you answered his call, he thrust right back into you. "A-ah!"

"Hey, M/n! Are you okay?" Henry questioned. "Y-yeah... I'm okay..." Tyler stopped thrusting, you could his cock pulsing and twitching inside you.

"You're little pussy is wet for me. You like it when I rub you here?" Tyler then began to rub your small dick. You tried to not moan out loud.

But Henry could tell, that you were moaning. And he was angry and just hanged up. "H-hello?... I think he... h-hung up." "Now, I can fuck you!" And he went back to banging you.

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TIMESKIP (5 DAYS)

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5 days after the little event, Henry hasn't called you. You tried calling him and seeing what's wrong, but he never answered.

Tyler kept telling you to not worry about him. Meanwhile, Henry was just in his room masturbating to a picture of yours and mutters, "You belong to me... Tyler and your's relationship is fake! We kissed, we held each other, and so many other things."

The acting seems to make Henry delusional, cause he believed it was all real and that you meant it. He has to find a way to make you his and he just how to do it.

There was a party coming up. You and Tyler would both be attending.

You and Tyler both arrived at the party. People were drinking, dancing, and doing other weird things. "I'm gonna go get a drink." Tyler nodded his head.

He went over to a table and sat down. Tyler wasn't the type to get a drink. Meanwhile, Henry kept his eyes on you. 'This is going to be a fun night!' You thought.

But this will turn out to be the worst night you'll ever have.

Had a few drinks, you were trying to find Tyler in the crowd but couldn't find him. You didn't feel the vibration in your phone, "I'll be waiting for you in the car."

As you were walking around, you felt yourself being pushed up against a wall. "Oh... *HIc* T-Tyler... I didn't *Hic* know you could be *Hic* this rough."

Henry pinned you against the wall and crash his lips against yours. Sweet but tasted like alcohol. 'Since when did Tyler become all muscular' Then you felt a needle pierce through your neck and injecting you with some kind of drug.

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

TIMESKIP (After the party.)

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

You woke up with a massive headache. Your mind is still blurry but after a few moments later you could see properly. You noticed a cup of water and headache pills by it. You took it.

Then, you realized, this isn't your room and that you were wearing a bunny outfit! 'What the fuck? Where am I?!' Then you began to feel hot and needy.

Your pussy was leaking and clenching around nothing. Your small dick was aching to be touched. "Is my little bunny awake?" A deep husky voice said.

You turned in its direction to notice that it was Henry?! But your mind was getting clouded with lust and want. "H-Henry...?"

"Shh, baby. Daddies here." Henry said getting closer to you and pulling you to his lap. Your hands were now on his shirtless chest, feeling his hairy pecs.

"Where's... T-Tyler?" you questioned, bad mistake. Henry smacked one of your cheeks. "DON'T EVER MENTION HIS NAME! YOU BELONG TO ME! FORGET ABOUT HIM!"

You were getting turned on. It must be the drug he gave you, cause you don't like it someone yells at you. "You're leaking so much slick? You want daddy to help you?"

Before you could respond, Henry pushed you down onto the couch and you could feel his meaty cock at your front entrance. "Your little pussy is leaking so much, you don't know how much you turn me on."

Henry lubes his cock with your slick before pushing in. "F-fuck! You're so tight! I guess Tyler didn't fuck you that good." Henry groaned as he pushed all the way in you.

He let you adjust a little before thrusting back into you. "You're so wet, tight, and warm. Better than my ex!" Henry groaned as he feels you tightening around him.

His hand then went down to stroke your cock. "A-ah!" you moaned as you tried to turn your face away. "You're close? Me too!" you could feel Henry thrust into your womb.

He was hitting your pleasure spot tip-on. "M-mmhh!" Your body clenched before convulsing beneath him. Your muscles twitched around his cock.

"Fuck, you came! I'm close! You'll look so beautiful swollen with my kids. The thought of spending the rest of my life with you just makes me wanna cum!"

You could feel his cock burst inside you. Feeling you up with his cum. "Get pregnant from this!" He stayed inside you before collapsing onto your smaller body.

He was leaving love marks. "You belong to me now, M/n..."

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

TIMESKIP (DECADE LATER)

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

It has been a decade since you were taken away. A decade being with a monster- who you looked up to before. He had taken you away from others.

You were in the kitchen cooking some waiting for him to come home. "PAPA! When is daddy coming home?" your oldest child said playing with his lego spaceship.

"He'll be home soon. How about go play with your siblings?" they nodded their head before heading to their room. You gave birth to Henry's children, when you had O/C/N, you promised that you'll take them far away from this monster.

You looked at the ring. It was no longer Tyler's ring but Henry's. Just as you said Henry, two strong muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

"How is my beautiful husband doing?" you tried pushing him away but it didn't work.

"Just accept it, M/n. You'll never escape me, and you don't want anything bad to happen to your- no- OUR kids? Right?" tears began to pour out your eyes.

"No. Please don't hurt them... they're just kids, they did nothing wrong." you cried trying to not alarm them.

"Then just accept your fate. You've been resisting for 10 years, it's no use. No one will ever find you." Henry whispered into your ear.

"Just accept it."

THE END

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

A/N: I hope this was good! I'm sorry if anything is incorrect. Do you like my new format? Anyways, bye my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

[bottombaron]

the high school Winterbaron au that I'll never write~

Zemo transfers to an American school. his father caught him attending a protest and he can't have him undermining the Sokovian government so now Zemo is living at his estranged mother's house in America.

his mother, being American, means Zemo has dual citizenship. her and his father are separated but not divorced. (Zemo hadn't seen her since she left them when he was four so their relationship isn't great)

Bucky is part of the large friend group of avenger characters (Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor etc.) but he feels left out. it used to be just him, Steve, Natasha, and then later Sam. but now Steve is being pulled away by friends like Tony and girlfriend Peggy. Bucky has Sam and Natasha, but Nat is closer with Clint and Sam is naturally more outgoing and popular than Bucky is, with his own friends.

basically Bucky is feeling lonely as fuck.

due to a complex powder-keg of racism, American ignorance (on the avenger's side), and an already deep-seated resentment of the Starks' and the American forces bombing Sokovia (on Zemo's side): him and the 'avengers group' do not get along and are instantly at each other's throats

Zemo is constantly causing mayhem at school and trying to get kicked out and sent back home. everyone pretty much hates him and he's fine with that.

*vague plot hand wave* something happens, a bet between Zemo and the 'avengers' ends up with Zemo getting to take one of them out on a date and they have do what he says for the day

he chooses Bucky and everyone is thrown

Bucky hardly knows this guy and Steve and Tony thought it would be one of them. they try to refuse on his behalf but Bucky's not that bothered, '*shrug* he's like, what? 5 even?? (he's not) I could just pick him up and throw him if he tried anything (he could do that tho), i'll be fine.'

Bucky feels weird about it more because he's not a part of this fucking drama and now he feels like he's been made the center of it

Steve and Tony are fighting over his involvement in this mess (Steve is protective, Tony is dismissive) and Bucky is just tiRED

Zemo had simply noticed Bucky was being abandoned by his friends and thought he looked lonely like him. but he's also a little shit and too busy playing the villain (and having a blast thank you very much) to drop the façade

so Bucky and Zemo agree to meet at a mall for a 'date'

the mall Zemo chooses is huge and luxurious and Bucky already feels uncomfortable in it. he sits and waits in the food court where there's at least a Hot Dog on a Stick he can feel a little within his financial comforts

Zemo finds him and they're off walking the mall

they bicker, they banter, and of course Zemo is fucking weird. he's acting like they've been friends for years and excitedly showing Bucky all the window displays like Bucky isn't (technically) there against his will. but it's not uncomfortable enough that he isn't starting to catch onto Zemo's chaotic rhythm and enjoy himself a little

they start to talk in that sarcastic playfully teasing way. Bucky's dry wit and Zemo's sharp flirty replies work really well together and they're actually kind of having a good time

until Zemo reminds Bucky he has to do what he says for the day and takes him to a really fancy boutique and informs Bucky that his task is to try on some clothes with Zemo

Bucky instantly feels panic when he's in the store, it's too big and too crowded and there's actual security guards in three piece suits giving him the most judgmental looks as if he's a criminal

everyone knows he doesn't belong there and that he's small and dirty

he starts to have a panic attack

Zemo notices and pulls Bucky into a corner of the store, hands him a bottle of water and instructs him to focus on drinking the bottle up to the label. every sip of water he must take a deep breath like he's coming up for air in a pool. let it out. and take another sip. and repeat.

Zemo tells Bucky he's going to be right back and leaves to talk to someone important

Bucky doesn't notice when everyone starts to leave the shop

the doors close, the lights dim, the music stops playing current pop and plays something soft and old. when Zemo comes back Bucky is feeling a lot better

Zemo says he talked with the manager and they told him he and Bucky could have the next couple of hours by themselves in the shop, if Bucky was still willing that is

Bucky feels embarrassed but Zemo starts ranting about everything that's triggering in the store, like it was everyone else's fault and not Buckys'. it makes him feel less ashamed. 'it's these florescent lights, the doormen were assholes, that music hurt my head too, etc'. like what Bucky had just went through was perfectly normal and not something bad Bucky did on purpose or for attention like people normally make him feel.

he doesn't question how Zemo got everyone to leave and the store to soften (he actually doesn't know Zemo is rich, he never bothered to know Zemo at all. he was just the guy everyone at school hated)

the two of them spend the time running around like children with the store all to themselves, the only other person a butler-like-attendant that serves them champaign and cashews.

Bucky braces for Zemo to dress him up like he promised he would. he's expecting a trim three piece suit that Zemo was eyeing earlier or something equally uncomfortable. but with how surprisingly well Zemo had been treating him Bucky feels like he can indulge a small dress up party for the guy

he's surprised again when Zemo's wardrobe choices for him are sinfully soft cotton jeans, t-shirts, and the sexiest leather jacket he's even seen

they're clothes Bucky would have picked for himself and he feels great in them

Zemo for his part steps out of the dressing room looking like Elton John meets Cruella DeVil

the ugliest purple fur coat, heels with gold accents, and a crop top that says 'break my hole not my heart' on it

Bucky: that is the ugliest fucking outfit I've ever seen

Zemo: thank you, I love it 😎

Bucky asks why he wasn't forced to wear something more high fashion, Zemo answers that, 'while I would love to see you in a suit I know you wouldn't be comfortable in one. attractiveness is about comfort. my style isn't yours. I'm comfortable in things that you would never be in which is why I make this look good. and you look exquisite in that.'

Bucky blushes but doesn't disagree. he does however tease Zemo about his outfit. 'are you sure you actually pull that off?'

Zemo: oh hunny, I'm fuckable in anything

Bucky switches into his old clothes and whistles when he sees the price tag. 'I could never afford this' Zemo looks, 'ah yes , that is quite the ridiculous mark up.'

Zemo: which is why I was planning on stealing it ;3

and then he runs out of the store with all the clothes he picked out for Bucky, still in his gaudy outfit

Bucky is dumbfounded but quickly runs after him and they stop only after they're at the other end of the mall, out of breath

Bucky: the actual fuck, Zemo!

Zemo: *is wearing his ~who me? I've never done anything wrong in my cute little life~ face* :3

Zemo explains shoplifting is good actually fuck capitalism

and doesn't explain that the reason why they had control of the store in the first place is because his father is an investor and everything they ran out with was technically already bought the moment they touched it

but he doesn't want Bucky to feel indebted for the clothes or make him feel like he needs charity. and rebellion (even pretend rebellion) is funner

Bucky suspects everything is fine anyway because he's not an idiot but it's funner to pretend for him too

the fantasy world that they've created outside of their actual lives and drama, in this mall, on this day, is freeing

Zemo releases Bucky of their deal, the time having been completed

Bucky, instead of leaving, takes Zemo's wrist and guides him to Hot Dog on a Stick at the food court

he treats him to a $5 dinner and watches, trying not to laugh, as Zemo attempts to eat a corndog with mustard in a pair of white Versace cashmere pants

it's the best date he's ever had

[a-dumb-simp]

Hey! I have a request that might be triggering, there aren't any rules I could find but please forgive me if I have not looked hard enough. May i please have headcanons of the demon brothers finding mc (gn) unconscious from suicide attempt? It's okay if it's not doable as I know the struggle, please take care of yourself in these tough times. I wish you well. Love, anon.

⚠️TW⚠️

IM BACK

Also I'm gonna leave these a bit open ended and maybe make something else with it later!

It's perfectly okay! Personally I find a lot of peace in asks like this or reading fics/headcannons with angst because I love the emotions themselves and the coping process!

Thank you for the ask, I haven't done anything in over 2 weeks so this kinda helped me get back on track and I hope you have a lovely day!

⚠️The more I wrote the more into I got, so it just progressively gets more and more gruesome and horrible! So warning⚠️

Each have a different form of suicide

Lucifer

Self harm

He was waking back from a meeting with Dia when he found you

He went to check on all his brothers, and you in your rooms

Yours was the first he entered, he had missed you that day and felt bad he couldn't say goodbye in his rush to leave

He of course knocked on your door gently and found it odd when it pushed open with his touch

He almost left

He almost turned around, assumed you were still a bit angry about the morning

But he missed you

He started to walk faster to the other side of the room where the bathroom connects

He saw the light on, and again knocked, maybe you were just in the shower and couldn't hear him before he came in?

Again no response

He was genuinely worried

You're a fragile human for fuck sake, you can't survive here without him...

He frantically got out his key and pushed the door open, only to find you

In the elegant pristine silver bathroom, covered in your blood.

You body twisted and a look of pain and fear in your tense muscles, nearly looking asleep during a nightmare

He stood shocked for a moment, all his memories of Lilith subconsciously coming back, his memories of seeing the blood and pain on his brothers faces after the fall.

He reached for you without noticing

His eyes filling with tears and not breathing

finally got a hold of your wrist and felt the warmth in your body

You blood smearing around his fingers

It gave him hope and shocked him back to where he was

He calmly picked you up, didn't let his tears fall and walked you to his room

He bandaged your wrists tight and secure, and sat by the bed reading a book

He couldn't even bring himself to wipe the blood off his hands forever staining the pages with this memory, with you

He couldnt get passed the first page, not be able to concentrate for a minute on anything

Once again he was lost

And he refused to let anyone in again, he couldn't take it

Mammon

Hanging

He had a modelling shoot and left you at home by yourself, he never regrets anything more

He was walking back into the house his sunglasses falling off his nose as he yelled for you

As he walked in his glasses completely slipped off his face

He attempted to grab them on instinct but just dropped them immediately

He ran to you

Your body limp and slightly swaying from the ceiling, he reached for your arms and pulled you down

He would give up everything he owned at this moment for you to be okay

He gently laid you down on you bed and looked you over

Thankfully you were still breathing, albeit rough with a minor hitch

You were okay

You were okay

You were okay

He couldn't stop repeating it

He reached out to touch the mark now deepening in shade on your neck and moved back like it burned him

The rope burn only searing in his mind what had happened

did he cause this?

did he make you want to leave so badly?

He can't stand to just sit in this silence

He ran and told Lucifer and immediately walked out of the house

He had no idea where he was going but he couldn't be there without your voice

He couldn't be there

Leviathan

Overdose

He had left his room for the first time since yesterday

You usually cane to join him and sit with him when he got a new game so you could still enjoy each others company but you didn't

He noticed pretty early on but thought maybe you were just busy

He decided to take a small break, something he would only do for you, and found you in your room

You were convulsing on the floor with a puddle of blood around your mouth

A pill bottle rolled back and forth, recently dropped from you hand

Eye slightly rolled back and whimpering

Small twitches in your hands and legs

He just fell

He fell to his knees and screamed

Scrambled on the floor to grab you

He felt so helpless and knew it was unfair that he couldn't do anything

He screamed until his throat burned and he was hyperventilating

More blood came up and couldn't help but cry

His brother of course heard and Lucifer came running in

He took your body running to get you to either Solomon or Diavolo, maybe even a human hospital

while Levi struggled in Mammons arms

He just wanted to help, it was unfair he couldn't help you

It was all his fault really if he had just checked on you earlier

If he hadn't been a disgusting piece of shit and somehow put a game over you

If he had just maybe never met you

Never saw you again

That would help right? He's the one that made you do that yourself...right?

Mammon was the one to carry him back to his room when he passed out from the panic attack

Satan

Gunshot

He had anger issues and you knew that

Dammit you knew that going into this relationship

So why when he found you with a gun to your head did you say you couldn't take it anymore?

Did you mean him? Did you mean that you couldn't take him anymore?

He understood to some degree he truly did, he just wished you were pointing the gun at his head instead of yours.

He grabbed your arm right before you pulled the trigger and the shock of the bullet hitting the mirror behind you caused you to pass out

He caught your body and felt the overwhelming rage again, but he couldn't actually feel it

He was numb to whatever else he felt other than regret

Because obviously you regret him, you regret this, what you have

He couldn't find any other reason

other than him

So he picked up the gun

Spun the fucking chamber and pulled it to his chest

He would have done the same as you but he felt it was more fitting to be shot through the chest

His heart stopping would be better for you right? This would be best for you!

Lucifer found him, and kicked the gun from his hand

Satan didn't even put up a fight, he just slumped to the floor

And let Lucifer carry both yours and his bodies elsewhere

He didn't care

Asmodeus

Drowning

He went to take a relaxing bath, he had a tiresome day with all those people flirting with him

He saw you at the small party at the beginning but got somewhat lost in the eyes of Solomon, they had fun of course but he would always be loyal to you

It was just a bit of harmless fun, right?

He got ready, put on calming music and opened the door to his luxurious bathroom

Only to find you already in the water

At the bottom of the tub

Turning blue

He didn't hesitate to pull you out

Already screaming questions and accusations at you as he realised you were already passed out

You were cold in his arms shivering and twitching constantly

He started doing CPR as he screamed for his brothers

He did mouth to mouth and all he could think was that he hoped this wasn't your last kiss

He couldn't let you go like this

The image of you in his bath sunken and blue, cold and icy sent more chills up his spine

He didn't even notice his older two brothers rushing in, taking you from him until he woke up a couple hours later

He wanted to find you he wanted to search for you, he wanted to apologize because he knew what he had done but all he could do was stare at his wall and cry

For once he let himself fall again, fuck his beauty he just wanted you

He had nothing left except himself and right now he felt as cold as you own body had

Beelzebub

Falling

I'm so sorry

He came back from the gym ready for you to attack him with hugs and was confused at first why you didn't

He instead gathered some snacks for you, assuming you had a bad day and wanted to make you happy :)

He got to his room and still couldn't find you, every day you two would come back here and hang out so what happened?

He heard his phone go off and was going to ignore it but thought it might be you

fuck he almost wished he would have ignored it

”I’m sorry, I love you, I know this is going to hurt both of us but I'm done. Goodbye.”

He knew where you were and what you were doing immediately

You had told him before of your attempts and he had reassured your crying and hugged you all night

Belphie joining in at one point

He found you at the edge of the Devildom, a cliffside over the city

Beautiful really, but at the moment is was Beelzebubs worst nightmare replaying itself

As you turned to fall you caught his gaze and smiled a bit

All he could see was Lillith, a flashing image of his sister smiling while falling replayed as he couldn't move

He couldn't scream, he was frozen just like last time...

When he saw the smile on your face turn to fear as you made your final decision he reached out

He felt the fear wash over him, he knew this moment, he replayed it in his head every fucking day

Saw her falling backward and failing, failing to grab her...

He ran once again, not caring if he died just wanting to save you, wanting to take your place

If he could switch places with Lilith he would have, and he would have done the same for you

Wanting to finally do good

Wanting to redeem himself for what he did to Lilith

He caught you arm, his wings making a faint buzzing noise and pulled you back up

Neither of you spoke

He eventually pulled back and found you to be sleeping, drained of all energy after that

He fell asleep with you, and you both stayed there for the night.

Belphegor

Stabbing

He woke up to a gagging noise, horrible and painful

Reaching over to feel you against him and only felt the cold bed

He saw the light in the bathroom and nearly fell back asleep, until that awful gagging noise came back

It was ironic really seeing you choke on your blood the same as before

Instead of his hands around your throat your own blood coming up...cutting off your breathing

He would have been glad to witness this a while ago

Would've probably paid to watch the show

And now,

He was stunned, reached up to his own throat and squeezed a bit subconsciously

He can't remember how many times he's apologized for it, can't remember how many times you've said it was alright

Did you do this because you thought it would make him happy? is that why you would do something so fucking stupid?

He ripped off his shirt and torn a piece to wrap around your torso, the blood from the stab wound already bleeding through

You stupid fucking human, he knew this was a bad idea, he was idiotic for letting you fool him.

He picked you up and carried you to Divaolo himself, personally begging him to help you

He pushed everything aside because of you and this is how you repay him?? This

He can't go in to see you so sits outside the room you're in and prays

He prays

To whoever can hear him that you survive

Because if you don't, he will burn Earth himself.

[existslikepristin]

Sounds

Just my ultimate bias doing ultimate bias things. This is just the intro. There will be more to come. Thanks also to worldsover and EhBeeSeeDih for most excellent editing help!

Tags: TheLounge, Dreamcatcher, Gahyeon, Siyeon, Yoohyeon, other members all referenced, some unnamed male, lots of butt stuff, very light bondage, brief watersports (pee), various other kinks referenced, I just want everyone to know Gahyeon is the best human

Gahyeon observed the consistency of the lube that dripped, nice and slowly, from the fingertips of her black latex glove. She only wore the one, leaving her other hand bare. Besides the glove, all she wore was an oversized baggy tee shirt and a pair of panties that weren't her own. From behind her, the up-close-yet-distant sound of amateur porn moans reached her ears. It made her smile.

Not long after Gahyeon had revealed her desire to dominate to the rest of Dreamcatcher, she’d first been approached by Dami. Dami initially showed a similar interest in dominating others, but was equally interested in being a pet.

Gahyeon hesitated for some time, but eventually agreed to give it a try. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Dami made a pleasant, calm, obedient pet. Gahyeon never really had many ideas for commands to give to a panda, though, so perhaps her perspective was a bit skewed.

Some time later, the two got involved in a bit of role playing as well. Dami would be the prince, and Gahyeon would be one of a variety of higher-ranking royalty that Dami would then have to satisfy. Gahyeon would certainly never admit that this was one of her favorite roles to play in her escapades with her members. Mostly because it meant she received lots of massages from Dami’s delightfully delicate hands.

Dami was a grunter.

Gahyeon’s situations with Jiu and Handong were quite similar to each other in the sense that neither of them really expressed a major interest in being dominated.

Jiu was more of a standard, every day, give-and-take type of lover, but just happened to enjoy a bit of pain. Gahyeon was always happy to provide that little extra sadistic touch that would push Jiu over the edge of climax.

Jiu was a lip-biter.

Handong didn’t need a dom. She wanted somebody with a dick she could wreck herself with. Gahyeon had a growing collection of dildos and strap-ons to choose from. It was as simple as that between them.

Handong was a shouter.

Sua was, as expected, the most difficult to work with. She was a switch. But while domming, she was often excessively overpowering, demanding that her subs participate in her kinks, rather than compromising with them or catering to their desires. She had serious negotiation issues. All of which meant that Gahyeon was the go-to option when the other members wanted to be dominated.

Of course, Sua would reach out to Gahyeon to be dominated as well. But she was a bit of a back seat driver. Or a severe brat. Or uncooperative. It depended on the day. Gahyeon would often just suggest they do something less kinky. Of course, she wasn’t about to cut Sua out of her sex life entirely, given their friendship and Sua’s rocking body.

Sua was a screamer.

Yoohyeon, on the other hand, was quite the fun submissive. She was willing to try anything at least once, up to and including the most depraved acts Gahyeon could come up with. Once or twice, Gahyeon had even directed her to do some things sarcastically, but Yoohyeon complied immediately, no questions asked, resulting in both of them discovering some kinks that neither of them realized they had.

One of Gahyeon’s favorite aspects to domming Yoohyeon was her eagerness to be filmed. Gahyeon’s SD card case was an absolute treasure trove of videos. It didn’t matter if she was far from her members, because she could always count on some long-distance submission from Yoohyeon. And it never hurt to have something to watch when she just wanted to be alone and masturbate.

Yoohyeon was a moaner.

But as much fun as Gahyeon could have with those five women, Siyeon stood out from the pack as Gahyeon’s favorite. She had a hard time fully explaining the favoritism, but as far as she was concerned, it was undeniable.

Siyeon presented herself outwardly as confident, bold, even. Gahyeon expected in the beginning that Siyeon would have no interest at all in submitting to her, or anyone else for that matter. She quite literally wore the pants.

One hot summer night, however, Siyeon sheepishly asked Gahyeon to spank her. It seemed innocent enough, as far as sex acts went, but it escalated gradually. Over the course of several months, Siyeon’s outer shell melted away. She became Gahyeon’s clay to mold.

Everybody else let Gahyeon dominate them because she gave them what they wanted.

Siyeon begged Gahyeon to dominate her because she wanted to serve and please.

That wasn’t to say Siyeon wasn’t getting what she wanted out of the action of course. Just that what she wanted happened to be whatever Gahyeon wanted. It was the perfect match.

Siyeon was an instrument that Gahyeon knew exactly how to play.

The sexual activities of the members weren’t obvious to the average viewer, except some of the wild shit Sua would do, but that was easy to pass off as “girl group popularity-mandated gay bait.” Every once in a while though, Gahyeon would get the itch to break Siyeon’s façade down in public. The lightest brush of the fingertips, a sidelong glare, anything could be the trigger if Gahyeon did it with the proper intention.

She’d even gotten so bold once as to do it on live video, streaming to their fans with Jiu and Sua to either side. Siyeon nearly collapsed before Gahyeon let her go. That same night, Sua practically molested Siyeon, but Gahyeon was vindictively proud to see that it didn’t have the same effect.

Gahyeon watched as one last drop of lube fell from her fingers back into the bowl she'd poured it into for easy access. It was just viscous enough to stay on a surface, but wasn’t tacky. Rather, it was slick, as if there were no friction at all between her digits.

“How are you feeling, my wolf?”

“I-I’m excited, Gahyeon.”

Gahyeon preferred hearing her own name falling out of Siyeon’s mouth. The sound gave her a twisted sense of romance, as opposed to the supposedly traditional “Mistress” or “Ma’am.”

Gahyeon turned to look for the first time since getting lost in her thoughts. Siyeon was tied up, albeit only with the shirt and pants she had been wearing earlier in the day, rather than a rope. The knots that her sleeves formed were weak and could fall apart with the slightest force, but Siyeon was much too good of a girl for that. It wasn't her physical bonds that held her still.

There was a twinge of disappointment amidst Gahyeon’s glee at seeing that Siyeon was looking, entranced, back at her. She had, after all, dictated that Siyeon watch the video that was playing on her tablet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Siyeon gulped nervously, but Gahyeon could see the slightest, quivering smile touch the corners of her lips. “Sorry, Gahyeon. It’s just… I think I’m extra struck by your beauty today.”

Gahyeon smiled and placed her ungloved, unlubed hand on top of Siyeon’s head, stroking her hair softly. “Oh babe. You know flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere. It’s just going to get my fingers deeper inside you. And you'd better watch out, because you're getting close to the knuckles.”

Her gentle hair stroking turned into a rough grip, which she used to turn Siyeon's gaze away, back to the tablet.

"Don't you want to learn from this video, Siyeon? I made it just for you."

"Yes, I do."

"Then you should be watching. Look, or you're going to miss the best part."

Siyeon's eyes slowly refocused themselves onto the video. It was Yoohyeon, all but limp in a full-nelson-under-the-legs hold. Whoever was holding her up, slamming their cock repeatedly up her asshole, they weren't fully visible, but it was easy to guess their identity. Yoohyeon's eyes rolled up so far, they looked like they might do a full three-sixty at any moment. Anyone viewing the video might have been concerned for her well-being if not for her dopey smile.

"See, my wolf? She's such a good little slut. Keep watching and you might learn something."

Gahyeon let go of Siyeon's head, confident she'd follow instructions this time, and reached around to feel how ready she was. As expected from her favorite toy, and the hours of teasing Gahyeon had subjected her to up to this point, she was so wet that Gahyeon could have gone swimming inside her.

Her gloved hand dipped into the lube again, then made its way down the cleft of Siyeon's ass, coating the entirety. If she didn't already have very specific plans, Gahyeon would have considered using it as massage oil and kneading Siyeon’s beautiful butt cheeks until the bright red hand prints on them disappeared.

A series of moans came from the tablet speakers again, and Gahyeon smirked at what she knew was coming next, which was Yoohyeon.

"Eyes open, Siyeon. You really don't want to miss this."

Gahyeon watched Siyeon’s fingers wiggle beneath their impromptu bonds. Yoohyeon's moans shifted into a long, guttural shout, and a stream of pale yellow liquid shot out of her. Siyeon’s butt visibly clenched.

"What a fantastic slut she is, hm? Cumming so hard from her ass being used as a fuck hole that she can't even control herself, pissing all over like an idiot."

Even from behind her, Gahyeon could sense Siyeon’s devious smile forming. "Well that's rude to say about her," Siyeon said, risking life and limb.

Gahyeon responded with a series of powerful smacks, leaving the handprints already on Siyeon’s ass glowing red, as well as a haphazard smattering of lube. "Shut uuup," she whined, "She got fucked stupid and pissed herself. You know what I mean."

Siyeon turned back over her shoulder to show Gahyeon her smile. Fresh tears flowed from her eyes. "Yoohyeon's always a fool though," she managed to joke through the pain.

One last, full-motion spank made Siyeon’s smile briefly turn into a grimace.

"Is that what you're going to do to me too?"

Gahyeon resumed her steady lubrication of Siyeon’s entire backside. "Someday, maybe. But we have a long way to go before you'll be able to experience that level of pleasure without pain. And trust me, the inside of your ass is not the part of your body where you want to be feeling pain. We'll build you up to it."

There was minimal resistance against Gahyeon’s middle finger as it slipped fully into Siyeon’s butt. Siyeon hissed and her toes curled. Gahyeon kissed her neck, shushed into her ear, and used her ungloved hand to stroke from Siyeon’s breasts down to her clit and back.

After a moment of calming down, Siyeon whispered, "If anybody can get me there, Gahyeon, it's you."

Gahyeon struggled to hold back her cutesy giggle, even though she knew that it wouldn't make her seem like less of a dom to Siyeon. "We're going to do, at most, two fingers today. I don't want you masturbating with anything bigger than that on your own, okay? It might feel like you can do more, but we're not taking any chances. Understood?"

Siyeon’s shoulders flexed and toes spread as Gahyeon wiggled her inserted finger. "Y-yes Gahyeon," she stuttered.

"Good. Now, let's practice your safe word, shall we?"

Siyeon hesitated, but relented anyway. “Apricot…”

Gahyeon slowly removed her finger. “Perfect,” she said ever-so-softly, reveling in the goosebumps rising on Siyeon’s arms. “Was that okay? Nothing hurting?”

“It was perfect.” Siyeon used the same word Gahyeon had.

“Well then, let’s get started.”

[notnctu]

to jaehyun, my first love ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ jung jaehyun x fem!reader ♡ genre - fluff, slight angst ♡ wc - 2.1k ♡ warnings - explicit language ♡ synopsis - in which Mark accidentally sets you up on a date with your first love and ex-boyfriend, Jung Jaehyun ♡ taglist - @colpen​ ; @cestmoncoeur​ ; @hyucksberry​ ♡ a/n - i had to repost bc tumblr keeps randomly deleting our shit omggg pls ;-; let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jaehyun,

I’ve never done this before, but the feelings you give me are too intense to not write it out. You’re like every dream come to life. A fairytale that came alive from the books. You remind me of a noble, quiet prince riding on his high horse. It’s not subtle, but not too grand to be overwhelming.

I think I love you. You’d be rolling your eyes at that word. It’s high school, what could I possibly know about love, right? And no, it’s not about you being my first boyfriend and my first kiss. It’s much more than those mundane things.

It’s the skipping of my heart when I’m the reason behind the dimples appearing. Or the butterflies I feel knowing that you, Jung Jaehyun, likes me back. I’m truly still in shock that you’re dating me. There are about two hundred people in this entire school and I’m the one who you send goodmorning and goodnight texts to.

My favorite day is still the day you asked me to be your’s. Cliche, whatever. But I’m not the only one who gushed at the sight of you holding the bouquet of my favorite flowers. Or the way you nervously couldn’t look me in the eye. You are the sweetest boy that has graced my life. I don’t know how I managed to get so lucky.

It’s a lie for me to not admit that I do feel insecure at times about our relationship. You’re not one to express your emotions or thoughts, you tell me it’s your actions. As your slow, yet improving partner, I am currently mindful of every action, like when you brush my hair out of my face because you want to get a good look at me. To see the real me. I like that the most.

Do guys feel these same strange intense feelings? Like my heart bursts thinking about your shy glances and your fingers tangled with mine. Whenever you hug me, I feel like I’m holding the very thing that makes me feel alive. I’m experiencing excitement, joy, and a weird burning sensation that spreads across my chest. It’s like we’re living a movie, but it’s better because it’s real life.

You’re the one, Jaehyun. It’s hard to explain and I’m absolutely being dramatic. But it’s not too far fetched. We’re still young, but I can see a future with you and how you want to chase your dreams with someone by your side. Don’t act like you don’t look directly at me when you say that.

Don’t feel pressured, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage just yet. I just have an inexplicable feeling that you’re someone that I’m going to love forever.

In this fairytale, do you believe in forever?

-from your hopeless romantic girlfriend, y/n

If anyone were to be blamed for this very awkward encounter between you and your ex-boyfriend, it would be Mark Lee. He went on for ages, boasting about some hot guy he wanted to set you up with since you had been single for quite a time. He only meant good intentions, so you could stop holding yourself in your apartment alone during the weekends.

And there was no possible way for Mark to know that his Jung Jaehyun was the same Jung Jaehyun you dated back in high school. Though, if Mark had been specific by telling you the mystery boy’s name, you wouldn’t have to be standing in front of Jaehyun in a stiff atmosphere intended for a harmonious date.

“I didn’t expect to run into you.” Stupid and you knew, you weren’t the only one who thought so. Jaehyun practically scoffed so loud that it physically pained you. Arms crossed, weight barred on his left leg, eyes rolled all the way to the back of his head. He was definitely expecting someone else who didn’t make a fool out of themselves.

“(Y/N), don’t act like we didn’t apply and commit to the same college. We were bound to see each other in some way.”

“Fine, you’re right. I guess, I didn’t expect it to be like this.” Your eyes diverted shyly to the ground as you played with the ends of your sweet dress. At this point, your bed and pj’s seemed much better than a rekindle of the mess you made.

Jaehyun cursed at Mark underneath his breath before running his hands through his brown locks. There was too much you wished to stare at. Jaehyun still managed to make your heart stop with his attractiveness. Time benefited him more than anyone else you’ve met from your past. Through his changes, there were the similarities you loved: the depth of his dimples, the softness of his skin, the charm with a simple look, the fluffiness of his hair.

He dug his hands into his jean pockets and pursed his lips together before saying, “look, I don’t want to date you again and truthfully, Mark never told me your name when he talked about you, so I don’t know what twisted setup you two planned for this to be.”

Your facial expression reacted before you could collect your thoughts at the harsh rejection, which was a complete spin from when he had first accepted your heart. You were really regretting the pitiful letter sitting in your childhood room at the moment and the fact that he was the first letter.  

“Listen, Mark didn’t mention your name either when he talked about the ‘hot, sweet boy’, so you can kiss my ass if you really think that I purposefully set this up to get back together with you.” Jaehyun’s eyebrow rose and his jaw tightened at your response.

“I’m supposed to believe that this was a mere coincidence or a sickly twisted fate that we ended up together again?”

It was your turn to scoff, roll your eyes, and cross your arms. “Like how I’m supposed to believe you’re the same guy that Mark raves about. You’re far from a kindhearted, wholesome person who volunteers at the dog rescue center and to think, I ever fell for someone who had the potential to be this arrogant!”

A quick spin on your heels sent you dramatically walking off to your car. Though, the sounds of heavy footsteps caught up to you and a hand closed your car door shut before you could step in. “I’m sorry. I haven’t completely forgiven myself and you for the breakup.”

“It happened a long, long time ago.”

“You’re right, but I still beat myself up to this day that our relationship could have been saved if we both didn’t give up.”

Sighing, you held his cheek gently and he faced you with hurt reflecting in his eyes. “We were young and stubborn. We gave up because we didn’t have the emotional capacity to fix it, Jae.”

He lit up at the sound of his nickname and how much he missed hearing it roll off your tongue. It was like a switch flipped on. “Haven’t heard you say my name in a while. I almost forgot how much I loved it.”

The appearance of his dimples and brightening smile caused a disruption of butterflies to swarm in your stomach. This feeling could only be produced by him and no one else. The true holder of your heart has returned and left you a bit unsettled.

If he hasn’t already charmed your pants enough, his cool lean against your car definitely sealed the deal. “Are you flirting with me, Jung Jaehyun?” Your narrowed eyes zoned in on the unmistakable smirk that plastered his face.

His lips rolled together, emphasizing the crescents in his cheeks more. “We can’t let poor Mark down. How about we try going on this date?” He paused to gauge your reaction, “so we don’t have to lie when we report back to him.”

“Fine, for the sake of Mark and because I’ll admit, I did miss your presence.” Every detail reminded him of the most amazing times he spent with you. It was like he was watching one of his favorite films or listening to a forgotten playlist that triggered all kinds of emotions he had felt before.

He jumped off the vehicle with the biggest gleam that was not present earlier. This was the Jaehyun you remember. He couldn’t contain his excitement and oftentimes, only being able to express his emotions through his actions.

“Well, you’re not one who’s hard to miss. I don’t think I can get your smile out of my head for the next few days.” You quietly pondered the thought of how easy this all was for him.

Hours flew by, endlessly chatting away to catch up with each other’s lives and reminiscing the good parts of your relationship. The restaurant had grown empty and quiet, to the point of being kicked out of the establishment. Before either of you could process the mutual feeling of happiness, there was a brief moment of wondering what the next steps of this was. He cleared his throat when you two arrived at your car.

“I had a great time today, Jaehyun.” The sadness in your voice was not unnoticed by him.

“Can I ask why Mark was so persistent in setting us up?” Jaehyun inquired as he took off his jacket to wrap around your shaking, exposed shoulders. His thin shirt blew wildly in the breeze, but he’d rather have you warm and him frozen by the night.

The tiny thanks escaped as a whisper and you hugged his scent tighter. “He just wants me to stop being alone on the weekends because that’s when he goes back home with his family.”

Jaehyun nodded knowingly, “I can still change that for you.”

“Don’t give up your weekends at the shelter for me and it sounds like you already have a lot on your plate.”

He chuckled delightfully and there was hope to hear it again. “I can sacrifice a few hours at the shelter to be with a friend. Plus, you’re important to me and like I said many years before, I want you by my side as I chased my dreams. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I take the responsibility of being bitter over something in the past and tonight really made me realize what all the anger stole from me.”

Jaehyun pulled you into an overdue hug. His cologne engulfed you like old times. “Just to avoid confusion, we aren’t getting back together.. ever.” His chest muffled your words, but he heard you loud and clear.

“There’s not a sliver of hope?” It wasn’t hurt that laced his question, but something light and playful. Jaehyun’s strong arms pulled away, but his hands dropped to hold yours. A small smile rested on his face, his lips looked as tempting as you remembered them to be.

“No, there’s not.” The mood shifted to a more serious atmosphere, but it was finally time to address the elephant in the empty parking lot. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always going to love you. People don’t call it a first love for nothing. Back when we were still together, and I told you I believed in forever, I meant it. But that doesn’t mean my heart wants you back, I want you to be happy with someone else.”

Jaehyun’s eyes sparkled underneath the dark night sky, but he broke the gaze when he grew shy at how the conversation had turned. A warmth spread across his chest and suffocated him tenderly. “Nice to know that I’m not the only one that still holds you in a special place in my heart. You’re right, my first love is unforgettable. You are unforgettable.”

Warm cheeks and shy, averting eyes wrapped up the date nicely. And all of which was thanks to Mark, who cluelessly set you up with your first love. You coughed to fill the tense air, noticing the goosebumps that rose on his arms. “We should get going, it’s too cold to be standing out here.”

“Right, I don’t want you catching a cold. You know how needy you get when your nose starts dripping uncontrollably.” His laughter mixed with yours as you handed his jacket back to him.

Rolling your eyes, Jaehyun helped you open your car door. “Anyways, are you up for a movie night this weekend?”

“No horror movies unless you want to end up in my arms.” He winked and you punched his arm playfully at his flirty banter.

“Don’t push it, Jae!” You giggled, entering your car to shield from the bitterness that was abandoned to linger in the air.

“Okay, princess. I’ll see you at your castle real soon.” With that, he closed your door and waved a small goodbye. Watching his figure disappear into his own vehicle, you realized the thought that Jaehyun was always the reason you started to love. Even in this reality, he was the reason you believed in a forever.

[makeste]

I read the meta you reposted about anyone being able to become a hero, and I would just like to give some thoughts. I agree it is wrong to think in terms of good vs bad victims and measure everyone as the same. Just because Shoto never killed anyone in response to his abuse and Toya did doesn't mean that Toya was always an evil person looking for an excuse to break bad. Different people break from different things.

these are all good, well-reasoned points, anon, but I disagree with a few of them. let me try to explain.

so the thing about this whole atonement process is that it’s hugely complex, and there isn’t really any kind of roadmap for Endeavor to follow when it comes to trying to make things right. I actually appreciate that his arc is written in such a way that his epiphany doesn’t just happen all at once, and you can see how his approach gradually turns from one that’s still mostly selfish and centered on him, to one that’s actually focused on his kids and what they need. you can see the stages he progresses through as the series goes on.

1. I’d argue that it all starts when he first gets yelled at by Deku (“Todoroki isn’t you!”). he realizes that maybe this kid has got a point, and that treating his son as an extension of him rather than as his own person might just be sorta shitty. so he files that away, but we don’t really see much of a change in him yet.

2. then a few months later he gets thrust into the #1 hero role, which has the interesting psychological effect of forcing him to see past himself and his ego for perhaps the first time in his life. he suddenly finds himself in this position as the new Symbol, and starts to feel the responsibility of that, and it basically triggers the entire rest of his redemption arc. because once he starts looking outside himself, he starts to realize the impact his actions have on other people, including his family. for the first time, he starts looking at the situation with fresh eyes, and realizes how much he’s hurt them.

3. quick little detour here, I feel like it’s important to note that Endeavor -- like many abusers -- actually does love his family and never intentionally set out to hurt them. but the problem is that he is so self-centered for most of his life that he never stops to consider that his family and his kids don’t simply exist to serve his own purposes. he abuses Shouto during his training but I’ll bet you he himself never thought of it as actual abuse, just him being hard on him in order to toughen him up. he thinks he’s doing what’s best for Shouto by making him strong in the hopes that he’ll one day surpass All Might, because that’s always been his goal, and so he just unilaterally decides that should be Shouto’s goal too. he wants the best for him, but it never enters his mind to consider that his son is his own person who, gasp, might not actually want the same things that Endeavor wants. btw I should clarify that absolutely none of this excuses anything he does, holy shit. but I feel like it’s important to mention, because many people complain that the change in Endeavor happens too abruptly and is too unrealistic, but I don’t think that’s true at all. it’s just that people don’t like to acknowledge that abusers are still human (meaning that anyone can become one if they’re not careful to consider how they treat others). Endeavor’s actions are monstrous, but they stem from realistic places, and I think that it’s a very well-thought-out character arc.

4. and so basically, once that change finally starts happening, it’s not that he suddenly starts loving his kids all of a sudden out of nowhere. it’s that he finally starts loving them for their own sake, rather than his. for the first time, he starts loving them selflessly rather than selfishly. and it’s not a change that just happens overnight, because he is so used to everything revolving around him that even after he starts realizing what he’s doing wrong, it still takes him a while to break free from those patterns.

5. and so for example, he suddenly becomes wildly supportive of Shouto and his training and attempts to go full-blown helicopter parent. because clearly that’s what Shouto needs, right?? all those years he was trying to make him into his own personal mini-me rather than loving his son for who he was and supporting him as his own person. and so we see him hounding Shouto in texts to let him teach him his Ultimate Technique (but not because he wants him to surpass All Might, but because he just wants him to be the best hero he can be! it’s different now!), and attending his training sessions to cheer him on from the stands like an obnoxious soccer mom. and afterwards he tells him he’s proud of him, and that he wants to become someone Shouto can be proud of.

6. so you can see there’s some progress at this point, but at the same time he’s still making a lot of the same mistakes. his intentions by this point have genuinely changed! but he’s still looking at the situation from his own point of view, and not taking into consideration how his son feels about the forced attempts at reconciliation. he’s thinking ‘I was a shit father, I need to make it up to him by being supportive.’ but he doesn’t stop to consider that Shouto might not WANT his support by this stage in the game; that he might, in fact, not want anything to do with him at all.

7. and this doesn’t change until after his battle at Fukuoka, when he has dinner with his family and Natsuo blows up at him. he basically lays it all out on the table, but this is the most important part:

I am willing to bet that he did not, in fact, get it until pretty much that moment, actually. because up until this point, he’s been doing exactly as Natsuo said -- trying to make nice, trying to show that he’s changed, and to be a good father now. but he doesn’t stop to consider (a) just how much hurt he really has caused them, and (b) just how impossible it is to simply erase all of that. the pain Natsuo’s expressing here isn’t something people can simply get over. and I don’t think Enji realizes until this moment that he was still going about this in the wrong way.

8. and that, lastly, is what finally leads to this:

he finally realizes that it’s not about him. and apologizes, but makes it clear that Natsuo does not have to forgive him, and that he doesn’t want to burden him by making him feel otherwise. he acknowledges Natsuo’s feelings, acknowledges the pain he’s caused, and realizes that what he and the others need is space. and this is when he makes the decision to build the new home for them and Rei, so that they can finally start to move on -- without him, if that’s what it takes.

so this is basically the progression of Endeavor’s redemption arc up to this point. and I’m sorry it took so long to recap, I didn’t mean for it to lol, but there were a lot of parts I didn’t want to just gloss over. so now, here are a few last points I want to make about his arc.

1. first off, it’s important to consider the timeline here. when making your point earlier, you talked about Endeavor building the new home for his kids, but how “on the other hand” he kept trying to force his relationship with Shouto. however the order of these things is switched around. because Endeavor building the house is something that happens at the end of his arc. and in fact we have not seen him try to force anything with Shouto since then. this is important to acknowledge because it shows that he is learning and that it’s not just an insincere case of one step forward, two steps back. the progress he’s making here is genuine; he really is trying not to be selfish anymore.

2. I know I said “the end” of his arc just now, but in fact we have no reason to believe that this is the end of it. every time I see an argument about “well why hasn’t he done this yet, or why hasn’t he said this”, I wonder why people assume that just because he hasn’t done it yet, it means we’re never going to see it. for instance, he still hasn’t apologized to Shouto specifically for the way he abused him all those years. but just because we haven’t seen it yet doesn’t mean that it won’t happen.

3. fandom has this tendency, when it comes to characters they don’t like and don’t want to see redeemed, to continuously move the goalposts so that no matter what that character does and how much they change, they can continue to justify why it’s not enough. I’m going to take a quick break from Endeavor and use Bakugou as the example here instead, since I think it’s easier to summarize.

“Bakugou is such an asshole, all he cares about is himself, he’s definitely going to become a villain.”

[Bakugou refuses to join the villains] “well whatever, he’s still a jerk, just look at how he can’t even work together with others and refuses to help anyone.”

[Bakugou learns to Win and Save, and unlocks the Power of Teamwork] “well whatever, he still doesn’t care about anyone else. look at how he’s still an asshole to Deku even now.”

[Bakugou starts helping Deku train and learn how to control OFA] “whatever, that’s literally the bare minimum, there’s still no proof that he even cares about him.”

[Bakugou literally takes a life-threatening blow to save Deku] “whatever, it’s like he said, his body moved on its own so there’s still no proof he really cares.”

[Bakugou wakes up from a two-day coma, immediately asks about Deku’s health, and rushes to his bedside] “whatever, I don’t know why everyone is making such a fuss over it, he hasn’t even apologized to him yet.”

and so on and so forth. and I guarantee that once he finally does apologize, it will then shift to “well why couldn’t he just have done that in the first place.” but you get my point.

basically, there are certain characters whose redemption arcs fandom will actively continue to deny no matter what. Bakugou is one of those characters, and so is Endeavor. and I’m not saying that in order to call those people out, because everyone has their own boundaries of forgiveness, and I don’t have the right to dictate anyone else’s, just like they don’t have the right to dictate mine. everyone has their own line, and where it’s drawn is different for each person. like for me, the one particular character who can fuck off for all eternity as far as I’m concerned is Overhaul (although I admit I am still curious to see what Horikoshi has planned for him post-prison break in spite of all that). and there are a lot of other people for whom Endeavor crosses their own personal line. and you know what, that’s fine.

but here’s the thing -- if you actually want to debate his redemption arc with people, you should be willing to do so in good faith. meaning that if you really do think Endeavor is unforgiveable (and I’m speaking now in general terms, not addressing you specifically anon), just go ahead and say so! but don’t come up with an arbitrary list of criteria that he needs to meet in order to qualify for redemption, only to keep on adding more and more items to the list. and most importantly, don’t assume that your criteria are the only valid criteria and that you can speak for everyone else. and especially don’t act like you have a right to go around slapping people with labels like “abuse apologist” just because they don’t share the same opinions as you about a fictional character.

anyway! so as usual, a post that I originally meant to be only a few paragraphs long turned out to be a whole damn essay, I apologize. but anyways anon, basically I share the same opinion as you as far as the mindset that Endeavor needs to have for his atonement (i.e. that it’s not about him). however, I think he’s made more progress than this ask gives him credit for, and I don’t think any of it has been fake. that being said, it’s still a process, and his biggest tests are yet to come. whatever ends up happening, I hope the outcome ends up being one that the rest of his family can find peace with.