#Even if it's int he smallest bit

[fluideli123]

Sonadow Fic Rec

Okay, before you jump down to the masterpieces listed below, I just wanted to state this:

These authors have given this phenomenal content for free, baked with time and effort. I have never once ignored this, hence why I try and comment on each and every one of these fics. However, my energy and ability to be verbose differs day to day. Some of these fics I have not given proper comments for, despite this, I will be on it the moment I can be. In the time being, (once I am able to find my comments on each of these fics) I will be sharing my adoration for them further in other posts (and most likely link back to this one).

With that being said, please, PLEASE take your time to check each of these fics out. If they're not your cup of tea? Valid! But hands down I have never dedicated myself to making a fic rec like this until now. But I MUST share and spread these works, they are much too dear to me not to, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

(All fics are listed by order saved in my bookmarks, not in the order read)

tangled threads and bite-marked shoulders by @rubyiiiusions

Words: 32,287 | Series | Complete

Shadow hissed in pain. The laser had just grazed him, but it still stung, and he instinctively gripped the wound it left on his arm. “You dare-” He stopped. The laser hadn’t hit him. In fact, it had struck Sonic, right on his lower left arm. So why did his forearm feel like it just got shot? He whipped around, fear climbing up his throat, and he suddenly became hyper-aware of something new. It was like a sixth sense, feeling the confusion that emitted from Sonic’s fur in waves as if it was his own. “What did you do?!” Shadow snarled. or, eggman accidentally soulbinds shadow and sonic, and no one has any idea how to undo it.

Sleepwalking by Tirainy

Words: 22,117 | Complete

'There is a strong arm curled around his torso, the appendage keeping him close to its owner, whose warm breath is ghosting over the back of his neck. Sonic is sure he went to bed alone the previous night, but he isn't worried about the intruder. After all, this isn't the first time this has happened…'

Secret Admirer by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 24,313 | Complete

Sonic understood well what it meant to be loved. He was a world-famous hero, after all; his presence never went unnoticed. For the most part, he lavished in that attention, he soaked it in and encouraged it. But not romantic attention. So, when the blue blur found himself falling in love? Well, the prospect was rather daunting, no matter how easy Amy had made it out to be. So maybe, just maybe, he should just take the easy way out...

Rose Drops Series by @magicstormfrostfire

Words: 122,489 | Series | Complete

Love, Intuition, and a little bit of magic ensues as Amy sends Sonic and Shadow on an unforgettable adventure.

Wolfboy by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 73,856 | Complete

World-famous monster hunter Shadow the Hedgehog has a job to do. It doesn't take long for the one-shot wonder to realize that this job won't be as simple as he'd expected: a small town, rumors of a lone werewolf, and a handsome, green-eyed, chronically-injured casanova who manages to worm his way into Shadow's heart... What starts off as a simple job turns out to be something much more life-changing.

Blizzard Bedfellows by @magicstormfrostfire

Words: 21,294 | Complete

When a rare blizzard takes over the island, Sonic is on the run to make sure a certain angry loner is safe and sound. Y-you know, because...uh that's what heroes do.

We never met but can we have a cup of coffee or something? by @whitejungle

Words: 3,630 | Complete

It's been almost two months since Sonic lost someone he didn't even know, but he can't stop thinking about it.

Clean Slate by nottheweirdest

Words: 155,880 | Complete | Note: Squeal pending and I am cheering you on author!! Whatever you decide I am excited to support you!!

Shadow has lost himself before. He knows what it's like to straddle the line between reality and false memories, but this time, it’s Sonic whose memory has vanished. A premeditated set of circumstances and an accidental injury leave Sonic with no memory of who he is, his life, or more importantly, his painful history with Shadow. It’s up to Shadow to remind the hero who he is in the midst of a global outbreak. It’s a chance for redemption. It’s a chance to right the wrongs of the past. It’s a clean slate.

say i reckon (i love you, for a millisecond) by @redamancering

Words: 30,205 | Complete

There’s a hand on his shoulder, barely making contact. A red gauntlet glows around the wrist. Sonic blinks, the pain having evaporated so fast he feels almost weightless. “Shadow?” Shadow’s breathing heavily. “Problem.” The retrieval of the ancient tech Shadow (and Sonic, in tow) has been sent to uncover takes a turn for the worst. In this case, the “worst” means… becoming physically and inextricably linked to each other. For the foreseeable future. OR: Metaphysical handcuffs, and general gay buffoonery.

Judge my sins, not my feelings by yellothebeeloved

Words: 228,479 | Complete | Note: Possible one-shots pending from the author for the series, I am here to support you author!! What ever you decide I'm here for it!

Maybe he's not meant to touch. It's the newest excuse he thought of in hopes that he could prolong the game a little more; a careful ruse to enjoy the bittersweet torture of seeing the days pass them by, while he pretends he doesn't seek azure blue whenever he's restless. At first, all he wanted to do was watch: but now the desire to touch, to have, to affect is at a point where he's not sure whether reaching for Sonic would truly be fruitless. He wonders that especially when Sonic's eyes light up upon seeing him. When he corners Shadow, when he invades his space and he touches and takes and then excuses it by calling it a fight. Shadow truly wonders then: if only he was brave enough to reach out, what would his grip find? Loose stars or a battle-worn body? Standing up, he glances at Sonic again, whose eyes have now met his own. There's something heavy in the eye contact, something Shadow doesn't dare name. Neither of them say anything, and yet Sonic's eyes move away from him again, like they did. Shadow warps away, hiding from the stars once more.

Child of Prophecy by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 139,321 | Completed

On the night the Mobius Castle was ransacked, the Queen received a prophecy. “One of three will not cry; send him down the river, for you can only save your kingdom if he does not grow up royal.”

Coming Home by nottheweirdest

Words: 55,740 | Completed

Shadow's life has been full of mistakes, some worse than others, but admitting his unrequited feelings to Sonic tops the list. He's spent the better part of a decade ruminating on his regret and hiding from feelings he couldn't bear to face. He never thought he'd see Sonic again, and he told himself that was for the best. Until now. At the bequest of his former rival, and in an attempt to finally get closure, Shadow has returned to Central City. The reason? Sonic the Hedgehog is marrying Amy Rose. And Shadow is invited.

[rinstaro]

Time can slut me tf out frfr lmao so u kno the post u made abt time ans reader having tension???? What if u flipped it so time was goin after the reader. Like u jus be chillin choppin some veggie and he comes up n starts feelin u up??

ahahaha i think i favor time now because i’ve been writing him?? he started speaking to my daddy issues and good god are they listening 🤭 he’s so djdjxjsk SLUT ME OUT!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!

cw: time should be a warning on his own. what a man! i don’t know how far i wanna write yet. hmmmm. touchie feelies, choking so slight it’s not even there, time is a hair puller, and a fiend, biting, reader has a vagina no pronouns, i spend far too long detailing how horny he is for u

minors do not interact.

it was moments like this where time realized he didn’t have as much self control as he thought. could you really blame him? you always looked adorable, even more so when you wore his shirts like you are now. but the hickeys on your neck and thighs that had almost faded were dragging his thoughts into the gutter.

he’d ravaged you only a couple days prior, your legs so weak you couldn’t even stand. it was lovely to have him pamper you for a couple days, but you were his oh so strong and independent spouse. when you could walk again, you insisted on cooking and cleaning for him the same way he did you. time insisted it was fine but you were much more stubborn than him. the conversation hadn’t even lasted a minute.

“i’m fine.”

“i don’t mind cooking for us again, you can rest some more until tomor—“

“zip it. i’m cooking tonight and you will love every bite.”

and so he was banished to the kitchen table to watch you prepare dinner. he couldn’t say he didn’t like the view, though. perhaps a bit too much.

you felt a body behind you, flinching only slightly before relaxing again. “hi, dear.” “hello, love.” time wrapped his arms around your waist, sitting his head on your shoulder. “those carrots are cut a little thick, no?” he murmured in your ear.

“hey, i have a knife,” you huffed. he laughed softly, heart fluttering at even the smallest bit of attention you give him. he silently watched you a while longer before his eyes drifted down to your hands. he adored them.

they were the same hands that were holding onto his shoulders for dear life the other night.

time really thought you were just so cute. he stood up a bit, going to observe the faded marks on your neck. unable to resist, he leaned back down to nip at one, causing you to yelp and furrow your brows. “hey,” you urged, you’re lucky i’m done chopping. what if you distracted me and i cut myself, huh?”

“i’d kiss it better and you’d never have to lift a finger again.”

you roll your eyes, getting your seasonings down from the shelf. whatever smart remark you had for him quickly faded when he gave a nice squeeze to your backside. instead of responding, you huffed once more and continued your task. time let out a small hum, displeased with your lack of response. “you really should just let me take care of you.”

you attempted to season your vegetables, only to halt when time traced his hands up your body. he went from your waist to your stomach, all the way up to your chest. his hands stopped around the base of your neck, thumbs rubbing circles on your collarbone. your breathing only got shakier when his mouth replaced his hands. he grabbed your waist once more and pulled you flush against him, sucking fresh hickeys into your neck.

your hands gripped his, your form starting to tremble. you continued to try and be stubborn, biting your lip when small whines escaped. time traced his hands down your arms before grabbing the seasonings out of your hands and placing them on the counter.

his hands went back to work, one reaching under your shirt to play with your nipple, and the other coming to lightly tug on your hair, pulling your head to the side for more access to your neck. this time, he bit down hard. your knees buckled and you unconsciously pressed back into him, whimpering louder than you would have liked to admit.

you finally come to your senses to wriggle out of his arms, turning around and crossing your own arms in front of your chest.

“you must really not want to eat tonight,” you chided. your husband only gave you a lazy grin in response. he suddenly hoisted you up, quickly carrying you over to the table. you squealed, arms flailing and wrapping around his neck. he sat you down, spreading your legs wide. how cute. you weren't even wearing underwear.

“i think i'll be just fine, dear." without another word he dove into your sopping cunt, his tongue leaving no spot untouched. you threw your head back, letting your moans out freely. dinner could wait, he thought. he'd been craving you all day.

sure, he could go for a comforting meal after a long day, but he’s far more comforted by your thighs clamping around his head.

[kaykebitez]

Phaere Vrinn - Tav Character Sheet

The first of my character directories, since I figured it would be helpful for myself to have character sheets for all my Tavs in one place, and what better place than Tumblr lol. This bio will contain SPOILERS for A Sonnet of Spiders and my fanfiction universe, The Dark Minstrel, so if you're following along and don't want all the lore spoiled pls read at your discretion. <3

Name: Phaere Vrinn (Formerly: Phaere Melarn) Race: (Formerly) Lolth-Sworn Drow (Currently unaffiliated) Class: Bard (College of Lore in Game; More closely aligns with College of Eloquence) Age: 170 Sex: Female Pronouns: She/Her Alignment: Chaotic Good/Neutral (ish) Orientation: Pansexual Partners: Astarion & Halsin

Height: 4'11" Build: S m o l. Petite and lightly curvy. Skin: Dusty lavender with tons of FRECKLES Eyes: Pink (Volo eye Grey) Hair: Moonlight White with a bit of a teal-ish tint Tattoos: Amethyst purple Starpoint Glimmer Tat Favored Weapon: Hand Crossbow or Orin's Dagger Instrument: Flute or Spider's Lyre Favorite Spell: Shatter, Otto's Irresistible Dance Base Stats (I think) CHA: 17 WIS: 12 DEX: 15 STR: 8 INT: 10 CON: 13

Likes: Music, dancing, pomegranates, sparkly clothes, witty jokes, sweet wines, vanilla cake Dislikes: Drow Bullshit (TM), injustice, boring speeches, krakens, spiders (the irony), being underestimated Personality: Phaere can be a bit of a wildcard, but most of the time she's a charming, charismatic performer with a good heart. However, she can dish it as well as she can take it, so if you come at her with hostility, malice, or snark, expect to get it back tenfold. If you meet her with warmth or friendliness, she will absolutely bend over backwards to befriend you or at very least treat you with kindness in return. She reflexively helps the helpless and defends the defenseless, but gets easily angered by injustice, prejudice, or unfair treatment.

While she holds little love for her drow heritage, Phaere is not above using others' prejudices to get what she wants if it suits her. She can play a convincing, evil drow matriarch, even if the act turns her stomach every time she does it. She does have a bit of a cruel streak for those she deems 'evil' or 'deserving' of punishment, which is how she gets around the cognitive dissonance of (usually) not wanting to hurt anyone if she can help it. She would much rather entertain than kill, but if the situation calls for it... well... she can be incredibly sadistic. Anger is the emotion that gets the best of her most often, and when her well of patience runs dry... watch out. You don't want a tiny, pissed-off drow coming to mock you to death.

In love, Phaere is kind, attentive, and selfless, almost to a fault. She puts her partners' needs above her own and rarely asks for what she wants, but she's getting better about it with Astarion and Halsin's help. Her previous lover taught her how relationships work on the surface, and now with the help of her boys she's putting it into practice. Sensual but with a 'take it or leave it' attitude to sexual intimacy, Phaere is more interested in building connections of the heart rather than of the body. But well, she is very good at the bodily connection part, when the mood strikes. She is a bard, after all.

Backstory: (SPOILERS FOR SONNET OF SPIDERS)

Phaere was born in Ched Nasad, a drow city in the Underdark in 1322. The seventh daughter of Halisstra Melarn (or so she was told,) Phaere was ignored often as a child. The smallest of her sisters as well, Phaere was often left in the care of her elder brother, Rylbros, the only male of the family. (As Phaere knew him, he was technically her cousin, an illegitimate child of Halisstra's brother, Q'arlynd, but he was raised as her brother and she considered him as such. Little did she know that SHE was also an illegitimate child of Q'arlynd as well, making her and Rylbros full siblings.) Rylbros, a kind, timid boy with an incredible gift for music, became something of a surrogate parental figure for Phaere, providing her with the affection and care that she never received from her mother or sisters growing up.

Halisstra was tutored in the bardic art of bae'qeshel, and passed on the art to her three eldest daughters, despite none of them being very proficient in the musical arts. Meanwhile, Rylbros and Phaere were gifted in music, and practiced their own music in secret unbeknownst to the rest of the family. Q'arlynd, even though he was forbidden from seeing his son for the most part, even arranged for a private tutor to teach Rylbros the violin as a teenager--the very same bardic tutor that Halisstra had learned from.

Of course, Halisstra had the tutor killed after she insinuated that Phaere, even as a toddler banging on a piano, had more musical talent than all of the Melarn women combined.

Rylbros and Phaere, long since disillusioned with drowic society, made plans to escape Ched Nasad and travel to the surface as a bardic duo when Phaere was around 50 years old. However, during the Silence of Lolth in 1372, Ched Nasad was attacked by Duergar mercenaries, sent by the matron mother of House Melarn's rival house, House Zauvirr. The mercenaries were ordered to kill every last Melarn, and Rylbros and Phaere tried to escape the burning wreckage of their home during the attack.

Rylbros was captured, giving Phaere just enough time to run to freedom. Believing Rylbros to be dead, Phaere ran for days into the wilds of the Underdark, collapsing at the edge of Araumycos, a giant fungal structure located between the ruins of Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan.

There, she stumbled upon a colony of Myconids. Delirious and dehydrated, Phaere played her flute for the Sovereign, unable to do anything else for fear of being killed. Instead, the Sovereign released rapport spores, and taking pity on the young drow, it decided to take Phaere into its colony. She lived with the Myconid colony through several cycles, working as a dedicated bard and tour guide for travelers and as a caretaker for juvenile myconids. It was through this 60-year experience that Phaere unlearned some of her drow teachings, earning a new appreciation for surface races through meeting travelers and building up a connection with nature thanks to her fungal family.

At the encouragement of the third Sovereign, Phaere left the colony at the age of 110, having grown restless and wanting to travel the surface world to spread her music across the land, as she and Rylbros had dreamed of doing in their youth. She wasn't very successful as a bard, however, until she made it to Neverwinter, where she met a 40-something human bard by the name of Robin.

It was love at first sight.

Robin started as a mentor for Phaere, and then as a confidante and friend, teaching her about the intricacies of life on the surface, as well as cultivating her musical talent with other instruments (piano and the lyre, mainly). Robin, with their infinite patience and kindness, opened Phaere's heart to more experiences as the two traveled across Faerun, performing and dazzling audiences in taverns, city squares, and inns alike. Eventually, the two began a romantic relationship, and Phaere stayed with Robin until their dying breaths at the age of 92. The two never married (Robin was not the marrying type) but were faithfully committed for nearly 45 years, even as Robin encouraged Phaere to seek other experiences outside of their relationship.

Phaere never did. She knew she'd have plenty of time for love later in life.

After Robin's death, Phaere traveled alone for 15 years, leaving behind a string of flings and only casual acquaintances, not quite ready to open her heart to friendship or love until the events of BG3. On her way to Baldur's Gate when she was abducted by the Nautiloid, Phaere received a rude awakening in the form of a tadpole, and thus decided fairly quickly (with some bumps along the way) that life was too short and too unpredictable to wallow in loneliness and misery. Robin wouldn't have wanted her to do that.

[laughableillusions]

Hii, hope you doing good! ✨

Are you still doing the “Uncommon Questions for OCs” ? I’d love ask 5, 22, 24, 30 and B, F, E (is that too much??? no pressure to answer everything, of course!) for Nick and Amber!

I am still doing it!!! And I will absolutely be answering all of these questions! I just had to get to my computer bc its easier for me to like copy the question and paste it etc etc

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators:

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

For Nick: very easy honestly, honestly you'd earn mistrust before trust anyway. Especially if you're a certain fae king (he doesn't believe a word Jareth says unless he knows Jareth is being serious). But for humankind, he's still kind of picking up the pieces that his wife left when she took off. He's open to friendships, he really is, it would just take him a long time to really open up. For Amber: She's incredibly passionate, but its hard to get her to mistrust someone. She may be rude and callous on the outside, and deny that she cares- but she does. She holds very impossible standards for the people she cares about, and even the smallest (seeming) betrayal can cause her to blow up. But within a day or two she'd forget about it. People that she does mistrust she is simply hostile to.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

Nick really isn't the jealous type, nor does he get possesive (and it drives Jareth crazy). He is very patient and understanding. Any jealousy usually just manifests in either disappointment or sadness, usually with his friends (if he isn't invited to something etc). With Jareth, he really knows how to really get under Nick's skin. And if Jareth catches Nick in a bad mood, or if he needs Jareth's support, and ignores him- Nick will seethe and seethe and seethe, both hurt and dissapointed, even though he knows Jareth is doing it on purpose- his temper flares up anyway, and he demands Jareth's attention. (which is what Jareth wanted him to do, the bastard.) Amber is very insecure, she is still grappling with the fact that her mother just tossed her aside- and also with the fact that she doesn't feel attracted to any boys at her school when her other classmates are (she's a lesbian). So she can get jealous over little things, after going through the labyrinth, she tries to be more patient- but she's very sensitive poor thing.

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

(Answering only for Nick bc Amber is 16). Nick is very private about his sex life. As a closested bisexual man in 1988 during the AIDs crisis, he keeps that shit under wraps. Even to his closest friends who accept him, he still doesn't discuss it. With Jareth of course he does, because he's his romantic partner, but he can get a bit embarrassed or shy about some things (Jareth finds this adorable.) But besides that, he says nothing.

 30. Who do they most regret meeting? 

Nick regrets meeting his wife, even if she did give him Amber- if he had known it would've ended the way it did he never would've married her. But also because, when she left, he realized that he had always sort of followed her lead. He kept to himself, he cooked, he did what she told him to do...but he didn't even really love her- at least not anymore. He lived for her, and didn't really allow himself time for his own interests. Nick was the one who did most of the parenting with Amber, while his wife would treat her and buy her things. Amber doesn't like to remember things like that. And she will sometimes simply refuse to do that. Its not that she regrets meeting the people she did, but she regrets what she did to them to make them leave. Self reflection is tough when you feel like there's something wrong with you already. But what she most regrets doing is pushing Sarah down the stairs and breaking her arm. She realizes now how wrong she really was, and that Sarah is actually quite a nice girl with similar interests.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I had a really low grade fever one day like, a year and a half ago or smth, and I randomly got back into labyrinth for a second and decided i had the best idea for an oc. At first the original story was that Amber was a 6 year old girl who wished both herself and Nick away because Nick was crying about their eviction notice. I scribbled this in my notes app and then fell asleep I think. But then months later when I found that scribbling, I realized it would be funnier, if instead of a teen wishing away their younger sibling, it would be funny if it was their parent. Because Jareth would probably not be expecting an adult, and you can't really turn a 35 year old man into a goblin, so it was this kind of awkward situation. Of course, Amber and Nick took a life of their own and now I have crafted a full story. But its funny how my desire to be funny created them.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

A mix of pride, embarrassment, and also a feeling that they're lacking somewhat. The embarrassment simply comes from getting bullied and made fun of as a small child, and I just push through that. The want that I'm lacking is mostly due to Jareth. He's a very mysterious and layered figure that nobody has a read on, and I feel like committing to one story will shallow him out somewhat.- or the story I have shallows him out, and also that the self indulgent fluff I write is OOC or something. Also (I get this from my dad), I just have a curse where I sometimes think all that I write is terrible. Don't get me wrong though, I love Nick and Amber, they're OCs I'm quite proud of due to the fact that I'm writing their story by myself (I usually do roleplay). But I like how different they are, and how different yet similar their story is to the original Labyrinth. It's not so similar that it's a copy, but not different enough that it's not a completely different universe. It's a legacy sequel I guess.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Not really. Amber is very hot headed and takes things much to seriously, also I'm not in high school anymore so I'd probably tell her to just chill out (she would hate that). Nick is a lot like Loius De Point Du Lac and 16 years older than me so we wouldn't have much to talk about. I would like how creative he is, but he's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder as well and I would just feel bad for him.

[casketscratch]

i think this place has been good for me in a... tentatively feeding scraps of myself to the blog, and instead of getting my hand smacked or regretting it, it's just. an okay thing. it's like a neutral thing to exist in a space and to have experiences i talk about and that's like. some people even kinda relate sometimes, and that's like. neeeew? i don't want to oversell it and be like tumblr is healing something in me just by letting me exist in the smallest way possible here, b u t:

people relating to me is not an experience i am ever prepared for. even my friends now it's mostly a... as long as i only exist close to them but don't try to connect too much. because i know i make other people uncomfortable. you know? it's not nothing but it's not... emotionally nourishing, either. i know it's not, because i'm trying to figure out ways to connect without feeling scared or sabotage myself by being like "what's even the point, it's too late to try."

this is. i struggle with admitting this enough that i'm having to interrupt myself to unclench my jaw. but it's the ... teeniest, tiniest little attempt to be open and honest. i am so scared of doing that again after the last year, two, three? that i have to actually like. argue with some of our more edgier (affectionate) protectors about doing it at all.

i say teeniest and tiniest but it's been a huge effort to not shut down totally and keep trying. "connect with other people" is apparently our most convoluted labyrinth of internal defenses. (like a labyrinth should be!)

so thank you to this space, i guess? i can never like.

initiate contact, the self-sabotage is mostly like, the hour of "no one wants to hear what you'd say anyway," "you'll just feel bad the whole time," "why even bother think of all the wreckage and people you've hurt behind you." and it works, is the bitch, it hits so hard that it feels like a gatekeeper that turns us all into these little like, "oh he's right, why WOULD we?" because then it's such a disorienting switch i barely remember what i was doing. or trying to do.

(i just typed all tht out and now i'm like oh fuck i got your number, man. we're gonna talk. see, this shit is useful! so many tiny insights)

anyway right yes uhhh.

... thank you. the internet being what it is i always feel like i'm one wrong word or opinion away from being run out. and when your connections to communities or other people are zero, or close to zero, feeling like even your preliminary avenues to try to connect in the first place are traps is really bad. for me. probably for other people but i'm just talking about me.

and then you take all that constant supervision from others and marry it with that internal protector sense of "see i told you everyone is a piece of shit and you won't belong there, either" and enter the canyon of despair. to crawl out of until the next time the cycle happens again.

but i think the scraps feeding bit is working. we're committed to being honest and non-judgmental of each other as possible. it at least seems to work against the endless vigilance and paranoia over, is that an okay thing to say? is someone going to call me out for [long list of discourse points in my head]. can i even talk about my own trauma without upsetting the people who'll tell me it's fake or invalidating their own, is the fact we work with our persecutors even when they're "bad" or "evil" going to start shit, etc. You know... the concerns that all boil down to avoiding feeling shame for stuff we're just trying to figure out.

which means we're like. obliquely managing to work with the alters and fragments who carry the shame that DOES immobilize us and DOES send so many of us to the stars. in baby bites. right here. just like that. where no one's yet ripped our head off or even tried to for not doing any of this right or sometimes having Bad Opinions or whatever.

something's working. and the sleepy meds are definitely working and if i don't stop now this will turn int a 2k word thing about shame and avoidance and freedom and let's just. flop. i'm gonna flop.

[ellesliterarycorner]

Writing Political Intrigue

Spoilers for A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones

At this point, my whole account should just be a blanket spoiler warning for Game of Thrones. Everything about it is perfect, and one day I will be able to write political intrigue as well as GRRM. I’m speaking it into existence guys. Literally that is quite possibly one of my biggest aspirations in life. If any of my political intrigue plots turned out half as good as his, I wouldn’t even care if my book gets published. Today’s post is about my favorite part of one of my current WIPs, and that is the political intrigue. Personally, I think well written political intrigue makes any book better, and that’s just a fact. It adds a lot of juicy drama to any story, but writing intrigue is literally one of the hardest things on the planet for me, other than like math. So, here are some tips to write that perfect political intrigue plot and spice up your WIP. 

Keep Both Sides Morally Grey:

My biggest turnoff when reading political intrigue is when the author explicitly tells me that one side is good and the other side is bad. Even if your mc is working for one particular side, don’t actually tell the audience that the mc’s side is good. I would go as far as to say that in heavily political settings, neither side is completely good, and when dealing with plots and intrigue, both sides are going to be morally grey. One side may claim to have the interests of the people at heart, but that might not actually be true and that does not inherently make them the good side. Lots of dictators throughout history have claimed to have the people’s best interests at heart, but when finally put into power, revealed they couldn’t give a damn about the people. All they wanted was power. Plus, it’s so much more interesting when both sides have a little bit of bad in them, and the MC has to choose between the lesser of two evils. 

Don’t Reveal the Extent of the Plot: 

In most cases, those involved in intrigue plots may not know exactly how deep the plot goes, especially in large plots with many different moving parts. Very rarely will more than one person know the entire extent of a scheme. You have the mastermind of course, but the best masterminds trick people into thinking they’re all doing their own thing to service their own goals when in actuality they have been serving the mastermind’s goals the whole time. Most intrigue plots start out as one small thing that snowballs and snowballs into something greater. My favorite example is Game of Thrones. The audience doesn’t learn until the fifth season of the show and the third book if I’m not mistaken that Littlefinger, a singular person, was more or less responsible for all of the chaos and political drama that has been going on in Westeros. Most of the other character don’t even know that all of these somewhat seemingly unrelated events are all very very connected. GRRM, the author, does a great job of slowly revealing things in a way that allows the reader to connect the dots and discover things for themselves. 

Keep the Big Picture in Mind:

This relates back to the above tip. Even though the audience doesn’t and may never the full extent of the political scheme, you should. Sorry to all my pantsers out there, but knowing the extent of a plot or scheme can help immensely with writing it and with including foreshadowing. It will help you place characters in certain locations and give said characters the necessary motivations to do certain things in the story to advance the plot. Your story may not go into in-depth detail of what motivates every single side character, bit if you, as the author have a general idea of what characters want, it will you create the setting and make the scope of the plot much more realistic. I recommend keeping a whole lot of notes. Even int he smallest of political schemes and plots, the author will have a lot to keep track of. I would recommend keeping lists of character’s goals, motivations, and personal connections. These notes prevent the most dreaded plot holes. 

Its All About the Players 

Political intrigue plots are very very character driven. Wether or not the characters know it, every decision they make affects the plot in someway. In any story every character has their own agenda, but especially in stories with a heavily political settings, every single character is going to have a different agenda. Some of those agendas will overlap which is how you get alliances. Other times people’s beliefs and ideologies come into conflict which is how we get disagreements and eventually wars. Not all, but a fair enough number of politicians only have their own personal interests at heart. Unfortunately, we live in a world where not every politician runs for office in order to serve their community. Make your story reflect that. Any system of government will have  some form of corruption. Maybe your MC is a part of the corrupt network, or they are working to bring it down. Either way, character agendas and goals will heavily influence your story. 

Think Smarter Not Bigger 

One problem a lot of first time political intrigue writers (i.e. yours truly) have is that they want to create this huge intricate scheme with a hundred mini plots baked inside of it. A lot of time that can make the plot fall flat unless it’s written correctly. In my opinion, the best political schemes are the small, well though out plots that end up spiraling into something that takes down kings and empires. Maybe the mastermind meant for that to happen. Maybe they didn’t. Another Game of Thrones example. In the grand scheme of things, Jon Arryn’s death shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. It’s the catalyst of the whole entire story, but when you think about it, it shouldn’t have had too much impact on the world. GRRM does a great job of making that small event with almost no world impact gradually grow larger and larger as the extent of the plot is revealed and more people are drawn into it. A small, smart plot can be just as affective or even more affective than a large complex one. 

Research. Research. Research!!!!!!

One of the hardest parts of writing political intrigue is that it often requires you to write characters that are way smarter than you. I know very little about diplomacy and international trade relations, but several of my characters can talk about it in their sleep. But, I have something my characters don’t....Google. I google almost everything I write about. Research everything that you might need to know for your plot. Your plot involved a succession crisis? Research the War of the Spanish Succession. Is there an arranged marriage in your political scheme? History is full of arranges marriages, some good, some bad, and some very bad. Going back and finding historical events that relate to your plot is one of the best research techniques. GRRM was inspired by the War of the Roses. My main antagonist is inspired by Napoleon. History is your friend, I promise. Also, watching tv shows with good political plots or subplots can also help. Some of my favorites are obviously Game of Thrones, House of Cards, the Tudors, the Borgias, and the Medici. 

[unrequitedloveletter]

The Deadly Romantics- Kaz Brekker

The Deadly Romantics masterlist

Want to be added to the tag list? drop a note into my inbox, send me a message, or respond to this post asking to be added, and you’ll be tagged in all future chapters!

This is part six! Go back and read chapters 1-5 if you haven’t read those already.

Chapter specific warnings- mentions of death. axe wielding, how to fire a weapon from a high vantage point, and poison is mentioned once, and robbing a bank is mentioned once, 

KAZ BREKKER

As Kaz sat down on the plush chair, Samantha sitting to his left, he could’ve gotten whiplash. It felt like he’d just been interviewed, and suddenly he was in for his second interview in the last days before going into the games. 

The training had at least proved a bit effective, with Kaz having received the slightest idea of how to properly wield an axe, how to accurately fire a weapon from a high vantage point, what in the area could be considered good food, what was more than likely poisoned. All in all, Kaz had some idea that surviving, though far off, was still a possibility. 

“You seemed rather… indifferent about your situation during our last meet,” Samantha said. “Having gone and trained, having put some emphasis on your skills, would you say that you still feel the same?”

“It is my belief that indifference is the best way to feel toward these games,” he was a lot more conscious of his word choice, simply for the fact that he was genuinely trying to be liked, trying to get sponsors that’d help him—even in the smallest capacity—to make it to the end, to see that he was one of two victors. “I don’t think that being cocky or too confident is the way to go about it, but I also was miserable when I was going in while anticipating my own death. Indifference seems to me, the best way to feel about this at all.” 

“Have you somehow grown wiser in your days of training?” Samantha asked playfully. Kaz played the part. He laughed, smiled, shook his head.

“I’ve had a lot of time for quiet contemplation,” he said, knowing that it was bullshit. He wouldn’t’ve had time, if not for the fact that he was often awake past midnight, back pressed against the wall as he tried to think of every problem, then tried to think of a solution to those problems, like he was planning on doing something like robbing a bank and simultaneously trying to avoid getting caught. “It’s led to a lot of realizations like that one.”

“So, you’re going into the games with the hope of survival?” Not necessarily. He just knew that he was going to fight until something stopped him. “Your mindset appears to have changed in regards to how you’re going to play these games, Mr. Brekker. I must say, it is a change I appreciate.”

“I thank you for appreciating it,” Kaz said. “And yes. I do hope to survive. In the end, surviving is my goal, I suppose.” It should’ve been his goal all along, really. Jordie had died in the games. Kaz didn’t want to die, not like Jordie had. 

Kaz had never done anything to honor his brother. A small place had been set in the graveyard of District Twelve for him, one that Kaz placed flowers on every year, but that was all he did.

Fighting in the Hunger Games was not Kaz’s choice, but he would find a way to use the games as a reminder that people died, needlessly, in tribute to a failed rebellion every single year. Two tributes from each district to honor a rebellion attempt that the Capitol ended up defeating. It was unjust, unfair. The rebellion had failed. The Capitol had defeated it, so what was the point in holding the games yearly, anyway? Other than for the sake of some twisted, severely fucked up tradition?

“Well, it’s lovely to see that you’ve taken to being more optimistic,” Samantha stood, and so too did Kaz. “Kaz Brekker of District Twelve, everyone!” And, just like that, the interview was over, and Kaz was walking down the steps as Y/N walked up them, leaning his back against the wall, standing next to Nikolai and Alina as they watched the interview from the television screen tucked into the wall.

“Y/N L/N, the Capitols favorite spitfire!” Samantha introduced. Y/N smiled, and the two of them sat down.

“Are you feeling prepared to go into these games?”

“Prepared enough, I would say,” Y/N said. “There’s only so much preparation that can be done, really. I like to believe I’ve done it all, but I can’t be sure.” Honesty, it seemed, was Y/Ns objective that time around. There probably wasn’t going to be any kind of a spitfire-esque remark, unless Genya decided to tell Y/N that the Capitol had assigned them a brand and it was something they should’ve stuck to.

“Good,” Samantha said. “The word is that your training went well, with you not having put a focus on your skills as an Inferni. Can you explain such choice?”

“Kaz and I both did it that way,” Y/N said. “It was at the suggestion of our mentors, of course. They advised that we developed more skills than the ones we already had. Kaz didn’t focus much on hand-to-hand combat, and I didn’t focus much on my skills as an Inferni, because there’ll be weapons in the arena. It’s best that we know how to use them. Not knowing how to is what gets us killed, and that’s not the objective I have, nor is it the one that Kaz has.”

“Smart,” Samantha said. “You said, in your first interview, that you’re fighting on the behalf of your family. Is as much still true?”

“Yeah, very much so,” Y/N said, nodding as they spoke. “I’m doing it for them, and for the district that’s had only two victors in these games across the seventy-odd years they’ve been happening.” Nikolai and then Alina were the only two victors that twelve had ever seen across seventy years of the Games in action. If they won, Y/N and Kaz would be the first victors in two years, only the third and fourth victors of twelve across seven decades of fighting.

“And you want to do it for honor to your name and to your district?”

“Precisely,” you said, nodding. “My goal is to survive, and if I do, I’ll make sure the ones who’ve died get proper memorials. The tributes of twelve may be gone, but they are certainly not forgotten. At least not to Kaz and myself.”

They’d discussed the way that Y/N would answer the questions the morning before they were interviewed. Kaz knew that Samantha would likely ask again about Jordie and try to get the sponsors to take pity on him, where Samantha would ask about Y/N about strategy for the most part, as they’d kept the attempts at getting sympathy points from the sponsors to a minimum. The message Y/N was sharing was one they both had agreed on, one that neither of them were sure Y/N would have the chance to spread.

“Tributes such as the young Jordie Rietveld?”

“Him, and every other life sacrificed in the name of entertainment to the ones living in the Capitol,” you said, nodding. “The Capitol so is good at making us make sacrifices, trying to force us to forget that the people we lose in the games aren’t just names, faces that we saw for a brief moment in time. They’re family. They’re friends. These people mattered once, and there is no reason except for the fact that it is of the Capitols discretion that we forget about them, the impacts they’ve had on our lives.”

“There’s the spitfire,” Samantha said. “I knew you’d bring it out eventually. For your family, for your district, and for the ones the Capitol has tried to make you forget.”

“For every tribute from Twelve, every member of every family that has been lost to the games that the Capitol makes us play,” Y/N said. “They might be gone, but they are not forgotten. Not to myself or my fellow tribute.”

Kaz tore his eyes from the screen, looked to Nikolai and Alina, both of whom were smiling. “They’d be a wonderful face for a rebellion,” nobody else was around, no cameras in sight, though Nikolai was the son of the president, so Kaz doubted he had to worry at all. “The firebird, I can already see it.”

“Rebellion will get all of us killed, Nik,” Alina said. “Worry about it when your father next does something that makes every single person throughout the districts hate him.”

“Brekker, if you don’t make it through this, I’ll resuscitate you and kill you again myself,” Nikolai said. Kaz turned his gaze to the screen again, watching as your interview concluded.

“I’ll do my best.” And he would.

Kaz Brekker was not going into the games to die.

Not anymore.

- 

TDR tags: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION “Living Memory” [ 4.11 ]♮PART 1, half 2

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY

Nigel is grabbing a quick lunch before his afternoon class, taking the peace of most of his family being out in the middle of the day to catch up on some reading. So he isn’t expecting his father to step back into the kitchen, lifting his eyes from his book.

For a moment, the two stare at each other, not sure what to say. Then, Ernesto fills the silence.

Ernesto: Another job just came up over in Queens. So will be heading over there soon. [ off his nod ] What are you reading?

Nigel holds up the book so he can see the title. Titus Andronicus. Ernesto hums.

Ernesto: That is a good one. Heavy, though. Nigel: Yeah. You’re the one who raised me on Romeo & Juliet. Ernesto: True. Perhaps I am guilty as charged.

That manages to earn the smallest of smiles from Nigel. It definitely is a bit easier to breathe around his dad, who has shared his appreciation for literature and always seemed to “get” him.

Even if his reaction to his ambitions wasn’t the most encouraging either. Ernesto chooses to try to address that, clearing his throat.

Ernesto: It’s been very quiet around here. Since that… big conversation. Your mom is quite upset. Nigel: Is she? That makes two of us. Ernesto: The things that were said… there wasn’t any ill intent, Nigel. You know that we both are very proud of you, and all your passions.

Actually, Nigel thought he knew that, but now it all feels up in the air. That’s precisely the problem. Words are just words, after all… and if someone hears the wrong ones more than the right…

Ernesto: It was just surprising. You didn’t bring it up to us with much time to consider it. Nigel: When exactly was I supposed to? How much time would you have needed? A day? A week? My whole life? Because based on what mom said, sounds like she would’ve been ready… never. Ernesto: That’s not true. That’s not how she feels. Nigel: Well, that’s what I heard. And she’s not the one standing here trying to convince me otherwise, so doesn’t that kind of speak for itself?

Ernesto frowns, but he can’t argue against that. The fact is, Nigel is more like Liezel than he realizes -- both of them are quiet, and a bit stubborn when they feel they’re in the right, and absolutely hate confrontation.

Ernesto: We just want what’s best for you, Nigel. It takes a bit of time to figure out what that is. Nigel: Cool. Glad what I want seems to be a big factor in that equation.

Ernesto sighs. Not getting anywhere. Not that it really matters -- he knows this isn’t really about him. It’s up to Nigel and Liezel to work it out. All he can do is try to smooth out the ruffled feathers.

Right now, not going so well. Nigel heads into the living room and grabs his backpack from the couch.

Nigel: I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry… that this sucks, and that I’m not doing it right. That I’m not being what you guys want me to be. Ernesto: That isn’t how we feel. It’s not how I feel.

But he can’t speak for Liezel, and that’s what stings the most.

Nigel: Well, thanks. But now I’ve gotta go to class.

You know, at the school he doesn’t want to be at anymore. He steps out without waiting for a response, Ernesto rubbing his face once he’s alone.

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - EXTERIOR HALLWAY - DAY

Nigel exhales a weighted sigh of his own, leaning back against the apartment door. The apartment he’ll probably never leave, trapped in the limitations of his own talent and the expectations of his mother. Perpetual disappointment, potential unfulfilled, destined to always be second string and three steps behind the curve.

Is this all he has left to look forward to? Is this really the rest of his life?

Nigel pushes off the door and starts down the hallway, as the eclectic backing instrumental kicks up --

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “23” as performed by Wallice || Performed by Nigel Chey

Nigel launches into the off-beat soliloquy with gusto, emotion leaking through despite his flat, unaffected delivery. The song is somewhat mocking in tone, but there’s a real insecurity underneath, a youthful desperation that goes deeper than poorly fitting universities. He sings directly towards the camera as he moves down the hall, arriving at the stairwell.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - STAIRWELL - DAY

He plods through the remainder of the first verse as he descends the flights of stairs to the lobby, glimpsing the banal existences of other residents as he passes the doorways. Kids blowing off school with the conviction that there’s nothing more important in life than what they’d rather do right now; women juggling babies on their hips that they couldn’t seem to care less about. Lonely elderly folk with no one to share company with, toddling back to the lonely apartments they’ve inhabited for decades.

All different phases of stuck, stunted by the reality of life.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - LOBBY - DAY

Nigel makes it into the lobby in the build-up to the first chorus, backing up against the main doors and letting the musical confession claw out of his throat.

I’m terrified of the future Scared that I’ll still be a loser!

Then he falls backwards through the doors --

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

And bursts into the chorus as he traverses through his neighborhood. Passing by more folks looking disillusioned with life, each of them including Nigel suddenly accompanied by a little rain cloud over their heads. So overshadowed by what isn’t working, the things that are haunting them, that they can’t see the sun right above them.

Nigel rolls through the high-energy chorus, daydreaming about a future where he maybe he just gives up. Skips all the pain of figuring things out, marries his badass successful partner and plays trophy husband instead. Having dreams doesn’t seem to be working out for him otherwise.

He reaches the subway entrance and jogs down the steps…

INT. SUBWAY CAR - MOVING - DAY

Just as the raucous guitar solo takes over, accenting the mundane chaos of the train ride into Manhattan. Nigel is packed into the center of it all, ironic rain cloud still over his head, staring dead at the camera as he sways with the uneven rhythm of the subway. All the other passengers mimic his empty expression, going through the motions just the same.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Nigel is back above ground as he slips into the second verse, this one vulnerable than the first. He’s heading towards NYU campus with his hands stuffed in his pockets, dragging his feet the whole way there. Riffing off how he imagines his parents must feel about him, what they dread is going to be his inevitable future if he screws everything up.

Art school dropout at 21, Disappointed my mom, did it just for fun

He doesn’t want to throw everything out of whack. He doesn’t want to let them down. But as he stares up at the NYU buildings looming over him, promising three more years of contorting into a box he doesn’t quite fit, he just can’t stomach it. He shakes his head and turns the other way.

Had to choose between being broke and bored So I cut my losses and I left New York

EXT. CENTRAL PARK - SHAKESPEARE GARDEN - DAY

So he finds solace in his favorite space, retreating to the familiar comforts of the Shakespeare Garden. This is where he truly starts to crack, the frustration and fear of how everything is spinning out a powerful adversary against his wiser instincts.

Don’t know why I feel so dumb The best of my years are yet to come

But at this point in their lives, when everyone keeps saying you have to have it all figured out, it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Everything feels like the end of the world, and the possibility that there’s better things waiting on the other side feels like a cruel trick to gamble on.

EXT. CENTRAL PARK - BOW BRIDGE - DAY

Nigel finishes up the performance while traipsing through the park, repeating the chorus to its conclusion. As the guitar noise fills the soundscape again, he stops in the middle of the bow bridge, dangling his lanyard over the side while he looks down at his reflection in the water.

He doesn’t like what he sees, on a number of fronts. It just isn’t right. He fussily removes an NYU keychain from his key ring, giving it a dissatisfied scowl.

I just can't wait to be all grown up and 23 And tell me what is wrong with me

Reflection frowning back up at him, he throws the keychain away, abruptly cutting off the music as it hits the water. Disrupting his image in a series of ripples as it disappears under the surface, sinking into the darkness.

Grace, pre-lap: Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?

INT. KENNETH’S BEDROOM - FLASHBACK - DAY

Grace is over in her boyfriend’s room, decorated with all the trappings of a typical nineties teenage boy. He’s got some country and punk band posters on the wall, along with taped up baseball cards and mementos from their high school. On a shelf by the door, medals and trophies sit on display from football and baseball alike -- though they don’t seem to get much attention from him.

Right now, Grace is hovering underneath the shelf, arms crossed and feeling equally ignored. Another trophy in his collection, whether he’s always happy about that or not. Because for now, he’s intent on ignoring her, reclined on his bed and absentmindedly tossing a baseball into the air. Pointedly pretending she isn’t there.

Although so much of their romance has been a whirlwind, dreamlike and heart-racing and deep, this is an angle that Grace hasn’t yet figured out how to crack. These odd times where Kenneth seems to morph, to lose his natural charm and become something else. Moody, uncommunicative, cold. So unlike the thoughtful, sunny guy she knows -- the one she’s fallen in love with.

She knows she can be equally reserved, just by nature, but she’s trying. At least she’s trying to communicate and let him in. When he gets like this, it feels like talking to a wall.

Grace: I’m trying to help you, you know. Kenneth: Huh. Don’t remember when I asked for help. Grace: You’ve been in a terrible mood since this weekend. Every time I try to talk it through, you just totally shut me down. If I can do anything to help, I will, but I can’t do that unless you tell me what’s wrong. Kenneth: [ with a scoff ] Yeah, right.

Okay, seriously, what is his deal? She came all the way over here, snuck out to do so since her parents don’t let her visit (on the record) when his parents are out of town, and he’s just going to treat her like this?

Kenneth: I didn’t ask you to come over here. You did that on your own. Grace: Yeah, I did. Because I’m worried about you. But if you’re just going to snipe at me like this, then yeah, maybe I’ll just go -- Kenneth: Ugh, no! Don’t get like that, damn.

As if she’s being the unreasonable one. Grace huffs, eyeing him sharply as he pushes upright to sit on the edge of his bed.

Grace: Then what is your issue? Kenneth: You wouldn’t get it, okay? It doesn’t mean anything to you. Grace: Try me. Kenneth: I’m honestly surprised you don’t already fucking know, since I’ve told you more than once. The game on Friday, the one where we lost by a fucking landslide? That I screwed up? Grace: It wasn’t your fault. It’s a team sport. Maybe the other team was just better. Kenneth: Wow, thanks. You’re so supportive. Grace: I wasn’t -- what I’m saying is -- Kenneth: [ cutting her off ] The point is, we absolutely bit it. And that’s bad shit, because like I told you -- if you cared to listen to anything I say -- the scouts from A&M were there. This was my chance to show them what I’ve got, and they saw me play the biggest loss of my career instead. Grace: … well, there will be other games. Kenneth: Ha, tell that to my fucking dad! You should’ve heard him when we got home. Grace: They scout more than once, right? So when they come back -- Kenneth: Ugh, are you stupid? Do you hear anything I’m saying?! [ getting to his feet ] I screwed up! It’s over for me! I had one shot, and I just had to go and --

He growls and throws the baseball as hard as he can into his laundry basket, a true fastball in such short distance. It has enough power on it to bang the wall behind the basket, causing Grace to flinch.

Even so, she feels for him. She knows the pressure his dad puts on him, how hard he works to be perfect on and off the field. She can empathize with that.

Grace: I’m sorry. I’m sorry it didn’t go as planned. Like I said, there will be other opportunities. A&M would be insane not to want you on their team. Kenneth: Well, tell them that. You can follow my dad on the march right now -- where do you think he and my mama went this afternoon? [ with a snarl ] He’s doing everything he can to grease the right palms so I still have a shot. Grace: You’ll get on your own merit, I know it. You don’t need his help. Kenneth: You don’t know shit, Grace. Stop talking about shit you don’t know.

Well, if being kind isn’t going to work, what is she possibly supposed to do? She holds her arms out in surrender.

Grace: Okay, well, what do you want from me? I’m trying to be supportive -- Kenneth: You’re not doing a great job. Grace: Then tell me what you want. Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it. But if you don’t tell me -- Kenneth: Oh, just stop. Stop lying! Grace: How the hell am I lying? Kenneth: Because we both know that ain’t true. You won’t do anything. We already know there are plenty of things you won’t do.

Grace shakes her head, totally bewildered. Kenneth seems to grow more frustrated at her innocent confusion, pacing slightly and clenching his fists at his sides.

Kenneth: And that just makes it worse. The way you act like you never know what I’m talking about. C’mon, Grace, just cut it out and be real with me. Grace: I don’t know what you’re talking about. What? Kenneth: I’m talking about the fact that you are so fucking frigid! That’s how I know you wouldn’t do “anything” -- because you haven’t. [ with a huff ] I mean, how many times have I told you I wanna be with you, that I’m dying to have you --

Oh, so this is about sex. Sex, and how apparently, she won’t put out. It’s clearly not the first time they’ve discussed it, either, because Grace visibly grows more reserved.

Grace: I don’t get what that has to do with anything. I’ve told you, I just don’t know if I’m ready. Kenneth: No, what you don’t know is whether you love me. If you actually feel about me the way I feel about you. Grace: That is not true. We do plenty of other stuff -- Kenneth: No, it is. It’s obvious. Because when I’m with you, I feel crazy. I feel like I’m on fire, and even just being near you makes me want to kiss you. I’m so in love with you, it’s driving me insane, and it’s all I can do to control myself around you. I want you that badly. But it’s never that way with you. I know it’s not the same. Grace: You don’t know how I feel, clearly, because none of that is true. It’s not that I -- it’s different for me. You’re a guy, you don’t get the pressure -- Kenneth: [ with a bark of a laugh ] Believe me, I know plenty about pressure. Pressure is my whole fucking life. You know that. Grace: It’s not the same. You keep jumping topics -- Kenneth: But I get it. I already know I’m lucky to be with you, that you chose me -- fact is, I wouldn’t want to have sex with me either. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It’s about time you figured that out.

Grace hates when he gets like this, when he talks about himself this way. Parroting the things his father tells him, grinding his own self-worth into the dirt. It’s worse than the cold silence, because it hurts her too. It hurts to hear him speak so poorly of the person she loves so much.

Grace: Ken, stop. That’s not true. Kenneth: I’m not good enough for you. We both always knew it. It was just a matter of time. [ cracking ] I’m not good enough for anything, so it’s fitting. I’m a failure, and a waste of space, and can’t do anything right. I’m destined to be that way forever. So just… quit while you’re ahead, all right? Go give it to someone who deserves it. Grace: Kenneth --

She closes the distance between them and touches his arm, turning him to face her. At first, he reacts without thinking, smacking her hand away. But she doesn’t shy away, having gotten used to his thoughtless physical movements -- a side effect of defensive play, she figures -- and pushes past it.

She takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a kiss, allowing that to say what words apparently can’t. Speaking a language he can understand.

It works. He kisses her back instinctively, automatically, as hungrily as he claims being around her makes him feel. Once they break apart, Grace continues to hold him close, waiting for him to meet her eyes.

Grace: You are not a failure. You are not a waste of space. Kenneth: But -- Grace: No. You’re not. You’re good. You are good enough. For everything, but especially for me.

She gives him another kiss, which he eagerly accepts. This one deeper, heavier, than the last. When they manage to pull apart again, Grace holds his gaze… then lowers her hands to start unzipping his jeans.

Kenneth: Grace… Grace: You are good enough. You deserve this. You deserve me. [ with a shaky exhale ] Let me show you how much.

He’s right, after all -- she does want him, even if she’s better trained at hiding it for the sake of Southern decorum. If she’s waiting for the right time, or whatever, what better moment is there than now? When she can make it mean something -- when it can prove just how much she loves him?

If it’ll make him happy, if it’ll fix his broken edges, she’ll do it. 

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Giving Him Something He Can Feel” as performed by En Vogue || Performed by Yindra Amino, Tabitha Flores, Ronica Lewis, Madisyn May, Kimmy Price, and Aleena Sayyid

She doesn’t have to ask twice, considering it’s been what Kenneth has been begging for. He doesn’t hesitate once she signals the willingness, pulling her into another loaded kiss. He nudges her back onto his bed and climbs on top of her, letting her remove his t-shirt.

Grace closes her eyes as he starts to kiss down her neck, losing herself in the moment. Convincing herself it’s right, that it’s what they need -- because it’s love.

As the girl-group harmonies of En Vogue float in… transitioning to a newer mix of voices…

INT. JUPITER RECORDS - RECORDING STUDIO - DAY

The major nineties hit serves as the mixing base for the final girl-group tests, the producers and label executives combining different varieties of the remaining six girls to seek that perfect bombshell combination of five. They isolate certain voices, test their ranges, and pull them in and out of the formation to have them listen to the others -- dreading that they’ll be the one who doesn’t fit.

It’s also a chance to pit them against one another, as they have certain girls sing the same parts nearly back to back. Yindra is highly aware of this as the process unfolds, after the way she’s already been set up against Aleena -- the latter of whom won’t even look at Yindra as the exercise goes on.

She especially feels this with Ronica, who is asked to sing basically every single line that Yindra is, sometimes one right after the other. She’s always known they were the closest direct competition for one another, given their vocal qualities and strength, only now it is being rubbed directly in their faces. At one point, they both record riffs at the same time, looking one another dead in the eye as they sing.

Feeling the pressure, Yindra doesn’t back down. She takes her riff solo to absolutely eviscerate Ronica’s more measured stylizations, belting her heart out and showing off her range. It might even be too much, objectively speaking, but Yindra is desperate. She’ll do whatever it takes to leave her mark -- even if it means humiliating her competition in front of everyone else.

For now, it seems to have the desired effect. The producers seem impressed after their riff-off, and Ronica looks a bit perturbed… as well as sheepish for being outshone. The other girls are clearly abuzz about it as well, whispering to one another. Yindra beams as she’s moved to a different part of the formation, accepting a nod of approval from Tabitha for her good showing.

But once the moment passes, the fierce bite of competition ebbing, Yindra feels weirder about it. She glances at Ronica, then looks away in embarrassment of her own.

INT. TURNER ACADEMY - THEATER - DAY

Meanwhile, Zay is in the midst of trying to decide what to do for his talent slot at the transfer gala, pacing the stage. He’s dressed for rehearsal, but it doesn’t seem like he’s done much actual dancing. He’s more so just brainstorming, thinking out loud, occasionally doing a light spin for no reason in particular because when he moves his body is just made to dance.

Zay: I could throw together another whole routine. Or maybe even just do my audition performance again -- I wonder how many times someone has done that -- but to be honest, I don’t really wanna bare my soul out there like that in front of everyone. Not that I couldn’t do it, but once was enough for a semester. Not to mention if I did do that, and then I didn’t get announced as a finalist, that would be enough humiliation to last a lifetime I think.

As it turns out, he’s not just talking into the ether. Charlie is there with him, standing down by the lip of the stage rather than on it. He’s supposed to be helping Zay come up with an idea, seeing as he respects his tastes (mostly) and he’ll be there to see him pull it off anyway.

Only Charlie isn’t doing a great job of that. Even though he’s usually a good listener, he’s zoned out this afternoon, mind elsewhere while Zay rambles on stage.

Zay: If I’m being frank, I think I’m just going to forgo dance all together at this point. Like, all of us know why we’re there. We’ve watched each other dance all year. It’s redundant. You’d hope that most of them would realize I’m already leagues better than they’ll ever be, so I don’t think I need to like rub salt in that wound. But what to do otherwise, well…

Zay trails off when he turns to face the front, catching a better look at Charlie. Noticing he’s uncharacteristically tuned out; eyeing the melancholy expression he’s let slip back onto his face. Although he was able to come off neutral enough when they ran into each other at Chubbies, spending more time together makes the cracks in his facade more obvious. Like by spending even a few more minutes in his company, Zay is holding him up to the light, able to assess all of his less-than-perfect features.

Chubbies didn’t seem like the right place to ask. It wasn’t the right time. But now it’s just the two of them, and Zay has a valid reason to nudge… it feels weird to think about, to contemplate peeling back the lid of the Pandora’s Box between them when they’ve spent so long at an emotional distance…

But it’s Charlie. It’s Charlie, and Zay knows that if he saw him with a similar expression, he’d ask him about it in a heartbeat.

And if there’s anything he can do, for whatever it is, he wants to do it. So Zay clears his throat, starting to saunter back towards the edge of the stage.

Zay: You know --

Charlie jumps slightly, pulled out of his thoughts by the more direct address. He looks up at Zay and quickly plasters on a smile, as if he wasn’t just a million miles away in his own head.

Zay: I know it’s been a while, but I would still consider myself a pretty decent study in the field of Charlie Gardner. And as someone who knows you’re usually a very eager and engaged collaborator, I can’t help but notice you’re a bit… out of sorts.

Charlie shrugs, still maintaining the practiced smile. So convincing.

Charlie: What do you mean? Zay: Dude, you’re like a thousand miles away. Metaphorically, that is. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather have that than you literally that far away, in like France or whatever, but the distance is still felt. Charlie: I don’t… I don’t know what you mean. I’m all good. What were you thinking about for your performance, again? Zay: Ah, classic Chuckles maneuver -- innocent diversion. Which it’s nice that you want to pretend to care about this, but if it were genuine, you would’ve been paying attention like two minutes ago.

Damn… it really is something to be known so well. Charlie scoffs, trying to shrug off the commentary, but it’s pretty difficult when he has him so pegged. Years of friendship don’t just evaporate.

Zay raises his hands in surrender.

Zay: I’m not saying that you have to talk about it -- if there’s anything to talk about. If you’re telling the truth, and there isn’t, okay, no biggie. What I am saying is that if there’s something going on, I’m down to hear about it.

He arrives at the front of the stage, plopping down into a sitting position on the edge and letting his legs dangle. He’s much closer to Charlie this way, only a couple of inches taller and much more effective at looking him in the eyes. Charlie tries to hold his gaze, to prove he’s fine…

But then Zay tilts his head, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, and he cracks. He laughs quietly in spite of himself at first, looking away and pretending the flush in his cheeks isn’t there. Zay cracks a light smile, but doesn’t rush him, patiently waiting for if he decides to share.

So… after a moment, Charlie sighs, nodding in defeat.

Charlie: It’s… you know that thing I was doing the night of your audition? Why I left early? [ off his nod ] Well… um -- that “plan” was telling my mom.

He doesn’t have to say what. All levity from moments before is gone in an instant. Zay grows serious, jaw dropping open.

Zay: Holy shit. No way. Charlie, bleakly: Way. So… that happened. [ with a sheepish laugh ] And you know how I said that it went fine? I lied. It… did not go great.

Charlie laughs again, mostly because if he doesn’t he thinks he might choke on it. Saying it out loud makes it sting more, somehow, like acknowledging it makes it more real.

Zay understands. Because he knows how big a deal this is, how much importance this moment held in Charlie’s mind. He honestly wasn’t sure it would ever happen. Now that it has, and apparently did not go well -- not that he’s surprised, as he’s always had zero faith in Eleanor and her capacity for compassion…

No wonder he’s so subdued. Zay hops down from the stage so they’re at the same height, looking at him with an empathetic frown.

Zay: Shit, Charlie.

Charlie nods, keeping his eyes on his shoes. Mainly to hide the way his face is twisting up, how much he’s working to keep it together. As if Zay can’t tell anyway.

Zay wants to make it better. He wishes he could do something, find some way to make Eleanor’s judgment or the sting of her cruelty hold less power. He wishes he could carry it himself, so that it wouldn’t have to weigh Charlie down any more than it already has for years, even when it was just a threat rather than a reality. Especially now, when he’s been riding such a high, with a newfound confidence and shine that has been impossible to ignore since he got back.

Zay wants to touch him. To comfort him the way he used to, hold him close and share his warmth and give him something to lean on. Being there for him in a way that feels almost dangerously natural, even more so now given that he’s no longer hiding from his own complicated feelings. He nearly does, his hand instinctively reaching out to close the distance between them.

But he can’t. This isn’t about him, or what he wants. It would be selfish, and probably unwise, to bridge that gap when Charlie is so vulnerable. Even if he could just pass it off as friendship, as platonic camaraderie, he’d know damn well in his heart that wasn’t the case.

So Zay stops short, letting his hand come to rest on the stage between them instead.

He still wants to help, though, in whatever minor way he possibly can. He searches for an alternative.

Zay: Look, man. We don’t have to do this right now. My whole stupid -- let’s just forget about it. We can go do whatever, something you wanna do. It’s chill.

Charlie lifts his head to meet his eyes. Despite the thickness to his voice and the gloss in his eyes, when he responds, a bit of fond amusement bleeds through.

Charlie: You seriously think that you blowing off an important opportunity is going to make me feel better?

His number one fan? Be so serious. Zay shrugs, offering no good explanation, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s all out of things to give, and he really would give anything to make this hurt less. It’s all he has, and if Charlie needed it, he would let him have it. Easy.

But no. That won’t be necessary. Charlie scoffs out another weak laugh and shakes his head, swiping at his eyes quickly as he pulls himself back together.

Charlie: It’s okay. I’m okay, really. Is it ideal, no, but it is what it is.

It hurts, but it won’t shatter him. He’s not as fragile as he was just a few years ago. He exhales a deep breath, Zay watching him sympathetically.

Zay: I mean it, though. I know you were nice enough to accept my invitation, but you really do not have to go through with this shit just for me if you’re not up for it. I get it. Charlie: No. No, I want to come. And it’s good. The distraction is nice, honestly. I think I just didn’t -- it was harder when you didn’t know, because I didn’t want to like, burden you with it -- Zay: It’s not. A burden. You know you can always talk to me about stuff. Especially this. Charlie: … yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. I just didn’t want to like, make a big deal or anything when you’ve got all this important stuff to work on. But now that you do know, I think… I’ll be able to focus better. Won’t feel as weird, hiding this big thing from you.

Speaking of, they should get back into it. Charlie shakes his arms to shake off the heaviness and suggests they start from scratch, pushing himself up onto the stage. Before he can go too far, Zay reaches out after him and takes his forearm, instantly getting his attention.

Zay: Again, just so we’re clear. If you need to talk about it, I’m here.

Charlie absorbs that -- the sincere declaration, and the warmth of his fingers on his skin. Then he nods, offering a smile that feels lighter than the forced ones from before.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Dylan and Asher are helping Lucas put together his outfit for the funeral tomorrow, assessing his nicest clothing spread out on his bed. It’s just a big wash of grey and black, so they’re off to a strong start.

Asher: This might actually be easier than I thought.

Riley comes to join them, asking if Grace and Jack were able to negotiate with the funeral home to land on a good schedule. Lucas claims they texted him the schedule, passing his phone to Dylan so they can take a look for themselves.

Whatever Riley sees, it’s not good news. She frowns.

Riley: Shit. Asher: What? Riley: The start time -- it’s like right before I go on for the matinee. I was hoping to at least make part of it --

She wanted to be there the whole time. For all of them. She’s evidently distressed about this news, but Lucas doesn’t seem concerned.

Dylan: It’s no big deal, Riley. The whole thing is last-minute anyway, it’s not like you’d be expected to change plans. Asher: Least of all for Kenneth. Riley: I know, but -- Lucas: Riley, it’s fine. Seriously. You don’t need to be there -- fuck, I wouldn’t be there if I could get away with it.

His reassurances are genuine, but they don’t make Riley feel any better. She bites back her emotion and lets them go back to discussing proper funeral attire.

INT. GLOBAL BEAT - OFFICES - DAY

As the work day is winding down, Josh returns to his desk from the coffee dispenser just as JUSTIN MILLER and Melissa are wrapping up their last meeting of the day. They exit Justin’s office with another YOUNG STARLET (18) in tow, bright-eyed and gorgeous.

In fact, she could be a near dead-ringer for Maya. Josh has to do a double-take, thinking for a second she’s returned, but this girl is just like a carbon copy. As they walk her to the elevator, Justin takes care to introduce her to Josh.

Justin: Oh, Joshie, check this out -- meet Lindsay, our next great find. Josh: Hi, I’m Josh. Young Starlet: Nice to meet you.

They shake hands, Josh polite as always.

Melissa: Josh is the one who keeps the ship running around here. We owe him everything. Justin: No kidding. You’ll learn that quick, friend. And Josh, meet the next big thing. I’m telling you.

He pats Lindsay’s shoulders bracingly, just like he used to with Maya. Almost as if she’s a has-been, or never was, and they’re onto searching for the next instant hit-maker.

Josh says nothing as they walk away and continue chatting, but the resemblance feels striking and he can’t shake the weirdness of it. He’s never paid much attention to the kind of clients Justin and Melissa rope in before, but if he thinks about it, they do seem to have an eye for young, attractive bombshells.

Even so, none of them were Maya Hart. None of them had the talent, or the spark, that she so obviously brought to the table. So it feels even more bizarre that they’re scouting out new talent already, and acting as though her pause is just par for the course.

Like they’re wasting it. Yet again. Once he’s confirmed they’re out of sight, Josh sits back down at his desk and pulls out his phone, pulling up the email he’s had drafted for days. All of his notes on the songs in Maya’s portfolio, locked and loaded and ready to send her way.

He knows she ignored his voicemail. He knows she’s probably over him, working hard on her own stuff, and he should take the hint. But this industry is built on bold moves, and it’s killing him to sit on it and the sense that something isn’t quite right…

Jade, pre-lap: Are you actually seeing this right now?

INT. YINDRA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

JADE BEAMON and Yindra are on a video call with Nigel, the three of them poring over the list of nicknames the label has sent Yindra for if she decides to be the one to take the name swap. Based on their reactions, it’s not a promising start.

Jade: “Drea.” That’s not even part of your name. Nigel: Yindrea? Jade: “Yi Yi.” Nigel: Sounds like Ariana Grande record scratching. Yindra: That’s “yuh,” Nige. Jade: More like sounds Kanye adjacent, which is a big no. Nigel: “Yincé.” Is that just Beyoncé lite?

Case in point, Yindra’s name is simply not built for cutesy nicknames. She paces the room and rubs her temples, trying to block them from her memory.

Jade: “Yinnie.” Nigel: That’s kind of cute. Jade: Yeah, if you’re Yinnie Youse and you work at Yisneyland. Yindra: The bad nicknames are not the issue. Nigel: I’d say they’re part of the issue. Jade: A decent 20%, at least. Yindra: Okay, yes, they’re terrible. But that’s not the point. The nicknames are irrelevant. It’s the principle that I can’t stand.

She resents being encouraged to change who she is -- let alone on the premise that her name isn’t Euro-centric enough to pass. Never has she once cared about that, and she isn’t about to start now.

Yindra: One of the reasons I wanted to go into this industry was to be what I wanted to see. I know how important Destiny’s Child was for me, seeing talented women who looked and sounded like me. If I change those things about me, the things that apparently others deem unconventional… then what am I even doing? What career am I building?

If she’s going to get her start, she wants to be her when she does it. Others may be fine bending to get their break, but that’s not who she is. She can’t stomach it.

Nigel: I hear you. I think you’re right. Jade: Me too. So maybe you just need to tell this other girl that and stand your ground.

Yindra doesn’t seem comfortable with that either. She already feels like an asshole for how she behaved during the last vocal session, even if it objectively worked in her favor. It’s dumb, but this whole thing feels like a trap -- like she’s going to be marking herself as a problem either way.

Yindra: I care about this, but I also don’t want to be the girl starting fights and getting on people’s bad sides before the group is even formed. I don’t want to make that reputation for myself. And the thing is, I like Aleena. She seems chill. I don’t want to make an enemy where I could desperately use an ally.

So the solution is… who knows. She doesn’t know. She knows what she wants, but she isn’t necessarily brave enough yet to assert it -- and she’s dreading the moment Aleena beats her to it and backs her into a corner she’ll have to battle her way out of. And it sucks to be assuming the worst in people, because so far in this industry, she hasn’t been shown she can bet otherwise.

Even so, as challenging as this all is, it’s easier than some of the stuff going on in New York right now. Yindra changes the subject, asking Nigel how things are going for him. Based on how he grows reticent and dodges the question, it’s obvious he hasn’t told either of them about what’s going on with his family -- or his pie-in-the-sky ambition to transfer either.

Thankfully, he has a convenient topic to redirect to that’s far more pressing.

Nigel: Could be worse. Believe me, I know this shit isn’t fun, Yindra, but there are much worse emotional places you could be right now.

INT. FUNERAL HOME - ENTRANCE HALL - DAY

But not everyone is so fortunate. The day of the funeral has arrived, Grace dutifully standing vigil at the door to greet guests as they enter. ERIC MATTHEWS is present as well, taking on the task of helping to hand out programs for the service.

If Grace is feeling mixed emotions about the whole thing, she does a great job of concealing it, passing for grieving but gracious widow with practiced precision.

INT. FUNERAL HOME - BACK HALLWAY - DAY

For as well as she’s doing, Lucas is the opposite. He’s dressed for the part, but the more guests and former friends of Kenneth arrive and file in for the service, the less steady he becomes. He tried to stay cool, to use his typical aloof approach, but it’s failing him. He’s breaking into a cold sweat, and his hands are starting to shake even as he balls them into fists. Guests keep trying to get a glimpse of him around the corner as they shuffle into the main parlor.

Kenneth isn’t there, but it’s also like he’s all around them. All these people here, so mournful and fondly memorializing the man who made his life a living hell.

That, and he’s never been good at being in the spotlight. It’s like he’s suddenly a kid again, the anxiety and stress of the moment hitting him like a ton of bricks just as Grace steps in to check if he’s feeling ready to go into the service.

Lucas, hastily: I’m gonna be sick.

He darts away from the group and stumbles down the hall towards the bathroom. Asher rushes after him without a second thought, Dylan not far behind. But he does double back to offer reassurance to Grace.

Dylan: We’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. He’ll be okay.

Even as he says it, he doesn’t sound convinced of it himself. Grace manages a nod, concern in her features, but she isn’t sure what else there is to do. The show must go on, whether they like it or not.

Isa has other ideas. They watch this whole scene unfold, and they know Dylan and Asher aren’t going to be able to cure him. Not this kind of grief; not this level of trauma. It’s going to take a force of nature, one of the only things they’ve ever known that can ground Lucas James Friar.

Ducking around the corner, Isa pulls out their phone.

INT. NYU - DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Riley is just finishing up her make-up for Ghost, looking pretty but begrudging as she does the final touches. She’s going through the motions, but today of all days, her heart is just not in it.

So when her phone buzzes with a text on the countertop, it feels like a message from more than just Isa.

“Funeral about to start, Lucas NOT doing well”

“I know ur about to go on, and this might not mean shit, but if I can pull an SOS on his behalf this is going to be the time”

Honestly, hearing it from them is about as crystal clear as it could be. Lucas would never ask Riley to put him first, or tell him how bad it really is when she has something else going on. He wouldn’t do that to her, but Isa can. Isa has no reason to lie, in either direction, and they know Lucas almost as well as Riley.

If they’re sounding the call, then they mean it. Lucas needs her. If there’s any time where he deserves to be put first, this may very well be it.

And Riley knew that. She’s known that the whole time, has felt it in her gut and been dragging her feet along doing what’s expected of her instead this entire time. She knows how important this is, how hard this whole thing is for Lucas, and wants nothing more than to be there with him to survive it. Despite her “professional” obligations, that was never a question for her.

So as she looks at her reflection in the mirror, dolled up for a show and just a step away from being in costume and launching into another rote performance, all she can think is one thing.

What the hell is she doing there?

And just like that, she makes her decision. Riley takes action, removing her mic pack and starting to gather her things. The other girls in the production notice her shift in behavior, none more so than Imogen, who stares at her.

Imogen: Um, what do you think you’re doing? You’re going to be called for places in like two minutes. Riley: Nope, I’m not. You said you studied your lines, right? Well, congratulations, you get the chance to prove it.

Riley marches over and hands her the mic pack.

Riley: You’re on, understudy. Break a leg.

Imogen is so stunned, she for once doesn’t have a pithy remark ready to go. Riley doesn’t wait for one, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. By the time she makes it to the door, one of the other girls manages to speak up.

Cast Member: Where are you going? Riley: I can’t be here. I have to go. [ assertive ] Family emergency.

And she isn’t going to wait for permission. She leaves the ladies in shocked silence, Imogen only rallying when she realizes she is literally going to be onstage leading the show in mere minutes.

INT. NYU - BACKSTAGE HALLWAY - DAY

Riley runs into Evan as he’s on his way to the wings, the two of them twirling around one another. It only takes a second to see that Evan is all dressed for curtain, and Riley is very clearly not.

Evan: Whoa, whoa, where are you going? Stage is that way. [ looking her over ] And aren’t you forgetting something? Riley: I’m not going on. I have to go. Evan: Wait, what? Riley: Don’t worry, Imogen is already getting ready. She’ll be great. And if Hill has questions or blows a gasket, please tell her I’m sorry. I’ll touch base with her tomorrow and explain everything. But I can’t be here right now. Evan, bewildered: But -- Riley: I have to go. Lucas needs me.

That’s all she says. It’s all she has time for. She starts to jog away without further explanation, only pausing when Evan calls after her in disbelief.

Evan: Riley -- ! Riley: I’m sorry, Evan. You’ll be amazing, though, like always. I know it. Break a leg.

She offers him a sincere smile, then dashes down the hall and out of sight. No hesitation to leave him, and their entire production, behind. Evan stares after her, totally dumbstruck.

He’s only pulled out of it when a stagehand pokes their head through the doors, claiming they’re getting into places. With that, the show must go on… but he does look back over his shoulder as he pushes through the doors, still processing that Riley is throwing everything aside like that.

Just because of Lucas.

Rachel, pre-lap: I’m only saying all of this because I care about you. I wouldn’t if I didn’t think it was necessary.

INT. GRACE’S BEDROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

Rachel is over at Grace’s, the two of them hanging out in her room. But “hanging out” feels too casual, because based on their posture this evening, they’re not having an easy-breezy conversation. Grace is definitely on defense, Kenneth’s oversized letterman jacket around her shoulders and arms crossed tightly over her chest as Rachel makes her case.

Rachel: But this is getting… I mean, Gracie, this is nuts. Grace: I don’t know what you mean. Rachel: Come on. Since when do you give one solitary shit about Texas A&M? Grace: It’s a great school. There’s no reason not to go there. Rachel: Lots of schools are great schools. But what I know is that until summer, when Kenneth enrolled there, you had never once mentioned it. But now that he’s spent a semester there and is on football scholarship, you suddenly have it as your top choice?

Grace huffs, shuffling uncomfortably.

Rachel: What happened to California? You were talking non-stop about that creative writing program at Berkeley. Hell, I helped you edit your portfolio. You spent so much time on it, and it was fucking good. What happened to all that? Grace: I decided to be realistic. We know I’m not going to get in there. Rachel: No, we do not. Who says? Grace: My parents will be happier with this anyway. Me not going so far away. And I won’t have to leave the horses -- Rachel: Oh my God, Grace, please be serious. You know it’s not about any of that. You know this is about Kenneth, and your codependent as hell relationship. He wants you to stay here with him. Grace: That’s not true.

Only her delivery is far from convincing. So she tries to deflect instead, bristling.

Grace: Is this the only reason you wanted to come over tonight? To grill me from some random high horse you just suddenly adopted? Rather than, I don’t know, hanging out since we haven’t gotten to spend much time together in like, weeks? Rachel: No kidding! You tell me! How do you think it felt to have our English teacher ask me about your college plans, kindly informing me of your apparent decision to go for A&M, when you’re supposed to be my best friend? And gee, I wonder why we haven’t hung out in ages -- maybe because every single millisecond of your free time is spent at A&M glommed onto your bland, cocky boyfriend? Grace: I can’t believe you’re saying all of this to me! As if you weren’t the one who set us up in the first place! As if you didn’t encourage and encourage me to get out there, to give Ken a chance -- Rachel: I just wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to experience things, to get out of your shell. I didn’t expect him to want to date you. Grace: … wow. Okay. Rachel: And then when he did, I thought, okay. Great. This’ll be great for you, a confidence booster. A chance to prove hey, you are so much more than you let yourself believe. And for a while, it was. For a while, I was all for it. But if I had known you two would become inseparable and this borderline toxic, follow-your-man fifties bullshit, I never would’ve done it. Biggest mistake of my life, for real! Grace: Well, sorry to disappoint you. Sorry that I fell in love. Sorry that a boy dared to love me back, and have it mean something. Rachel: [ with an eye roll ] Oh, puh-lease… Grace: Sorry that I’m not also a fucking slut who can’t see any man as longer than a one-time plaything!

Woof. Grace wanted the focus off of her, and she took whatever weapon she had at her disposal -- with massive impact. Rachel blinks, taking the hit hard, staring at her best friend like she doesn’t even recognize her.

Suppose practically swimming in the embrace of Kenneth’s jacket, whoever she knows and loves is hidden away.

But like hell is Rachel going to let her hurt show. She scoffs and blinks back the tears, steeling her expression and holding Grace’s glare.

Rachel: You know, I thought we had it all figured out. I thought you and I were gonna get out of this state, and we were gonna be something. Whatever you wanna call it, I thought we were one in the same. Kindred spirits, or whatever. [ looking her over ] Obviously, I was wrong.

Grace wants to cry, overwhelmed and defensive and terrified of the doubt creeping up her spine at Rachel’s words. She doesn’t understand; she just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know Kenneth -- not the way she does.

And if she can’t see that, then suppose she doesn’t really know her either.

Grace: Yeah. I guess you were.

Terrific. A tear slips down Rachel’s cheeks, but she doesn’t bother to swipe it away. She isn’t going to give it that much power. Instead, she grits her teeth, making sure to look Grace dead in the eye as she walks away.

Rachel: Good luck, letting Kenneth determine the rest of your life. Hope all that love is worth it. Have a fucking blast at A&M playing shadow.

She whips around and storms out of her room, slamming the door behind her. Grace jumps at the sound, which feels even louder in the empty room she left behind… she wraps herself tighter in the letterman jacket, burrowing deeper into whatever comfort she can glean from it.

Digging into the belief that she’s making the right choice.

INT. L.A. APARTMENT - MAYA’S BEDROOM - DAY

Back in the present, Maya is seeking a similar sense of comfort. She’s bundled up in her comforter, using her laptop to look through old videos of her performing. As far back as when she was a kid, less refined yet just as full of bravado and volume, but even as recent as her years at Adams.

She seems so enthusiastic in all of them, filled with the joy of performing regardless of what other bullshit was going on in the meantime. Fairweather friends, abandoning fathers, near-miss suicides -- none of that can touch her when she’s allowed to sing, when she gets to put on a show. When she’s in performer mode, she’s invincible.

It was only a year ago that she was there, but it feels like a lifetime. That easy confidence and instant joy feels so foreign, like her memory has been wiped and she doesn’t know how to access it. It’s been on shaky ground since she came to L.A., and she’s been trading bits of it away in pursuit of whatever it was that was supposed to matter more than anything.

And then in one night, Justin took it all like it was nothing. Just another day in the business.

Maya’s cheeks are flushed, her eyes taking on that uncomfortable teary feeling again. She grits her teeth and shuts her laptop, cutting off her younger self unceremoniously. She climbs out of her blanket cocoon, suddenly feeling suffocated.

As the sultry, melancholic synths ease in…

EXT. LOS ANGELES STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “In L.A.” as performed by Fame - The Musical Original Off-Broadway Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

Fittingly, as the certified A class Carmen Diaz, Maya finds herself singing her devastating second-act soliloquy as she wanders the sunlit streets of Los Angeles in a desperate search for fresh air to breathe. Much like the original rendition, Maya has discovered the promises and allure of fame and Hollywood aren’t all that they seemed, even for someone as savvy and strategic as her. 

She starts off quiet, unsure, almost like a murmur and distinctly un-Maya. A reflection of how out of sorts she feels, how out of control things are and how removed she feels from her voice.

EXT. ECHO PARK LAKE - DAY

After the first chorus, we arrive in Echo Park for the second verse. Maya walks the pathway around the iconic lake with her head down and arms crossed, on defense even though the joggers, college kids, and dogwalkers are hardly a threat.

After the booze and the coke, the visions of the blue Pacific After the two-hundredth time I told him he was “just terrific”

She makes her way down to the lake, looking into the murky water. Her reflection stares back at her, feeling unfamiliar, just as she starts to recount the things about being here that have left the strongest scars.

I woke up one late afternoon and couldn’t tell quite where I was Leftover taste in my mouth and with a morning after buzz

As she continues, getting deeper into the memories she’s been working for weeks to repress, her voice grows gradually in volume but also frenzy. While her vocals are emotive, they lack their usual discipline. These lines aren’t coming from a well-trained star performer -- they’re slipping out from the scared girl underneath, the one who has rarely needed to sing.

EXT. LOS ANGELES HIGH SCHOOL - DAY

Maya continues her walk, passing by a local high school. She’s basically invisible to the students here, lost in their own worlds, so she has to dodge to avoid being knocked into by a crowd of enthusiastic pals just getting out for the school day.

She looks over her shoulder after them, eyes welling up.

You try to stop the thought from coming but it never ends You think about how far you are from home and friends

She keeps walking, the lyrics becoming more strained as they fight to get out of her -- until she stops still at the end of the block, staring up at a towering advertisement plastered onto the side of one of the office buildings like a billboard.

One of her. One of the last ones she approved with Melissa and Justin before “Haute Stuff” dropped, the single that was never hers to begin with. Where she’s looking perfectly plastic, hot as hell but devoid of substance, the perfect bubblegum pop Barbie doll just begging to be played with.

Maya’s face is full of disgust, an almost visceral revulsion.

Don’t look in the mirror to see what you’ve become!

EXT. LOS ANGELES STREETS - DAY

The despair can’t be contained anymore. It practically bleeds out of Maya as she barrels through the remainder of the performance. It’s still unpolished, and raw, and far from her usual level of excellence, but God is it powerful. It’s spilling out of the deepest corners of her soul -- the loss of her ambition, her dreams, her sense of security. Her sense of self.

So smile when they say it’s only a dream And you’ll get what is coming to you

All swept away by the glitz of L.A., where all your dreams come true.

Maya finishes belting out the last blockbuster set of lines…

EXT. LARCHMONT - DAY

Then dwindles into the final lyric as she arrives back outside her building. But she can’t bring herself to go back inside -- there doesn’t feel like a need to. It’s not home. This place can’t be home anymore.

Instead, she leans back against the brick and slides down into a sitting position. As the music peters out, she wraps her arms around her knees and tucks her head against them, smaller than she’s ever been.

INT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

Nigel steps into the coffee shop, surprised when he finds Vanessa waiting by the counter. They exchange awkward smiles, the former questioning what she’s doing there. He doesn’t think of her as a regular here.

Vanessa: Definitely not. But most of my usuals are over by Turner, and right now…

She’s kind of avoiding the place as long as she can hack it until this stupid gala thing is over. One more night! Unfortunately, that means higher risk of running into Zay, but she’ll take that chance.

Nigel: Oh, yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Vanessa: So Zay’s telling everyone? Nigel: Actually, not really. He told Riley, and she told Lucas because she tells him everything even though he doesn’t care and probably won’t remember seventy percent of it. But I think Asher was there when she did, which meant it took less than twenty-four hours for Dylan to know, and at that point it becomes kind of impossible to track the thread within our group. Jade told me, for the record, not that it matters. Vanessa: Cool. That’s just swell. Nigel: If it helps, though, I don’t think anyone like… feels any type of way about it. Other than sorry it didn’t work out. As in, we love Zay, but we like you too. It’s just a bummer for everyone.

That is nice to hear, honestly. Part of the biggest anxiety Vanessa was nursing about the whole thing was the loss of the friendships she was starting to make beyond Zay -- which maybe says something in it of itself. She shrugs.

Vanessa: No need to take sides, really. Wasn’t exactly anyone’s fault. It just… didn’t work. Like you said.

But whatever. She’d rather talk about anything else. She changes the subject.

Vanessa: How did talking to your parents about London go? Did you tell them?

Speaking of things we’d rather not talk about… based on how Nigel’s expression dims, and he hesitates, the answer is obviously “not well.” And since Vanessa is one of the only people who knew Nigel was considering it, it seems clear that he hasn’t had the chance to really unpack it with anyone.

After a beat, Vanessa holds up a hand.

Vanessa: First things first. You need coffee.

INT. FUNERAL HOME - BATHROOM - DAY

Asher has talked Lucas back from the ledge, at least enough that he’s no longer crouched in front of the toilet in case he vomits. Lucas splashes cold water on his face while Asher hands him a paper towel.

Asher: Okay? Lucas: Better. [ a lie, but whatever ] I’m sorry. I don’t know -- I’m being so fucking stupid -- Asher: Lucas, it’s fine. Totally understandable. But you’re gonna be fine, too.

Lucas does not look convinced, and still looks a bit ill, but he doesn’t have much of a choice but to pull it together. He just has to get through the next few hours.

Once he’s dabbed his face dry, Asher leads him through one more calming breath. If he has to hold it all afternoon long to survive, so be it.

INT. FUNERAL HOME - BACK HALLWAY - DAY

Dylan is doing his best to reassure Grace that Lucas will be fine, but it’s not going well.

Grace: He didn’t want to do this. I only felt like we should -- if he can’t, then he shouldn’t -- Dylan: He’s going to do his best. He doesn’t want you to do this alone. And we’ll do everything we can to help.

But what if it’s not enough? Grace struggles to express just that, uncertainly stumbling over her words -- like mother, like son -- but Dylan’s outlook brightens significantly moments later when he spots something behind Grace over her shoulder.

Dylan: I think our odds just got a lot better.

Grace turns to look, following his line of sight.

Riley. She made it, just a few steps behind Isa as they lead her back into the hallway where they’ve been taking shelter. She’s changed out of her pre-show clothes and into an elegant semi-formal black dress, while her stage make-up and hair did her the favor of looking polished.

She outpaces Isa once she spots Lucas, finally emerging from the bathroom with Asher. She breezes past Dylan and Grace and rushes to meet him, colliding with him in the middle of the hall. Lucas is genuinely shocked to see her, like he can’t believe his eyes -- but the relief in his voice is palpable.

Lucas: [ voice cracking ] Riley? Riley: Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.

Her touch proves it, the two of them gripping each other’s arms to stay steady. Lucas shakes his head, even more out of breath than before.

Lucas: What -- what are you doing here? Your show -- Riley: Shh, it’s fine. Everything’s handled. You worked in show business long enough, surely you remember what understudies are for? Trust me, mine is thrilled.

Lucas is so overwhelmed, he doesn’t have it in him to argue. And selfishly, the solace of her presence is so immediate, so soothing, he wouldn’t let it go for anything right now. He lets Riley take his shaky hands, squeezing them tightly.

Riley: I’m exactly where I need to be. Now we just have to get through this. Which you will. Lucas: Okay. Yeah, okay. Riley: Just a couple hours. You’ve faced way harder things before. And I’m right here. I’m with you.

There’s nowhere else she’d rather be. Lucas nods, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against hers. Finding the grounding comfort of being close to her just for a moment, before they have to face it for real.

Honestly, Riley’s surprise appearance is a relief to just about everyone. Grace exhales a breath, while Isa smiles to themselves at the fast impact Riley has on Lucas.

Dylan approaches and pats Riley on the shoulders, both as a welcome and a subtle nudge that it’s time to go. The service is about to start. When Lucas steps back from her, he meets Dylan’s eyes, who raises his eyebrows at him.

Ready?

Lucas takes a deep breath, still shaky but holding it together. He looks to Riley again, who gives him a warm smile. He intertwines their hands and grips it like an anchor, then gives Dylan a nod.

Grace leads the way back to the entrance hall, Isa following behind. Then Lucas and Riley, taking the march one step at a time; Dylan and Asher bring up the rear, the former throwing his arm around the latter and hugging him close.

INT. GLOBAL BEAT - OFFICES - DAY

Another quiet morning at the office. No sign of Justin or Melissa, but that’s not out of the ordinary. It’s just Josh, the other assistants typing away, and his thoughts.

Still no Maya. At this point, he wonders if she’s ever going to come back. Did he make it weird with his voicemail, and now she’s avoiding him? Did he overstep? Or worse, is she having doubts? Given the direction Melissa and Justin are taking her, putting her in a plastic shoebox of bland pop, he can’t say he’d blame her if she was.

So maybe it’s worth it to speak his truth. At least give her the ammunition to take her work further, the stuff that’s already good, even if he doesn’t get his name on the credits. Not like it would be the first time…

But if it helps her do more of her own stuff, showing her true range, then that’s worth it. That’s a legacy he’d want his fingerprints on, invisible as they may or may not be. Maybe she just needs a little bit of feedback or encouragement, since Justin and Melissa are clearly so busy spread across other clients. Whether she includes him, or ever speaks to him again, so be it.

As long as she keeps making killer music, he can live with that.

Before he can second-guess his instincts, Josh pulls up his drafts and opens the notes email to Maya, crafting a new leading message.

INT. L.A. APARTMENT - MAYA’S BEDROOM - DAY

Maya has at least managed to stay out of bed, hair still unkempt and far from her stylish best. She’s at her desk, struggling to force herself to eat so as to not make her lingering perpetual nausea any worse.

She’s hesitant when her phone lights up on her nightstand, not sure she wants to see who it is. What a grim change of pace, considering she used to get a burst of energy every time a new opportunity could potentially be gracing her phone. Now, she finds herself dreading what she may have to stuff down and avoid.

When she sees it’s from Josh, at first she’s wary, but then she sees the subject line. “Demo Notes.”

Curiosity winning out, she opens the email and gets to her feet, anxiously pacing as she reads through it.

“Hey,

If I made things weird again somehow, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you this when I caught you in the office, but I haven’t managed to see you recently. Anyway, I listened to your demos, and they’re really good. There’s some serious stuff here. At the risk of being an arrogant asshole and overstepping again, I jotted down some thoughts I had while listening.

If you wanna do anything with them, by all means, go for it. A peace offering.

See you soon?”

Josh wasn’t kidding. He took time with these notes, evidently having deeply listened and thought about her demos. He took the time to listen at all, which is more than she’s been getting the last few months.

More than that, he’s talking to her. Just her. No mention of Justin, or Melissa -- and based on what she knows about him, his intentions are legit. He’s pathetically awkward, and a terrible actor. If he was trying to fish for his bosses, that would come through no matter how hard he tried.

He’s reaching out because he cares.

Struck with a sense of urgency, the overwhelming desire not to be trapped in isolation anymore, Maya finds herself frantically opening her text messages.

INT. GLOBAL BEAT - OFFICES - DAY

Whatever he was expecting after his olive branch, Josh is not anticipating such a fast response. He’s surprised when his phone buzzes within minutes, even more so when Maya’s contact lights up his screen. He opens it immediately, sitting up straighter.

“Lunch today?”

Josh stares at the message, then glances over his shoulder towards Justin and Melissa’s office. No one’s around to see…

He starts to type his reply.

Nigel, pre-lap: To be fair, I don’t know what I was expecting.

INT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

He and Vanessa have taken a table in the corner, and Nigel has just finished giving her the rundown of how unideal his pitch to his parents went.

Vanessa: Ouch. Yeah… I can imagine the comment about Zay was a deep cut. Nigel: Definitely wasn’t my favorite critical commentary to receive, no. Unfortunately, that’s a common casualty of being his friend. Vanessa: Oh, even with my comparatively brief experience, I got that. Nigel: It’s not like it’s intentional or anything. And like I said, I had to adjust to that fast. I don’t hold it against him. But… sometimes it sucks. Constantly being in someone’s shadow. Especially when you love them. Vanessa: Mm. It’s that bigass head of his. It’s really good at soaking up all the sunshine.

Sorry, he can’t help it that he’s so legendary! Anyway, they’d both rather not focus on that angle of it, so it’s easy enough to push past it. Vanessa redirects to the actual core of the issue rather than the details of what was said -- his parents. Nigel nods.

Nigel: But yeah. Obviously did not go how I hoped. In fact, I can’t imagine how it could’ve gone any worse. Vanessa: Oh, come on, don’t say that. They could’ve disowned you, or threatened to pull you out of school entirely. It can always be worse. Nigel: That’s very comforting and inspiring, thank you. Vanessa: That’s what I’m here for. Master of emotional warm and fuzzies, didn’t you know this about me?

Nigel can’t help but smile at that, albeit weakly. He may not know Vanessa that well, all things considered, but he at least knows that much is a heaping dose of sarcasm. Then he shrugs.

Nigel: I don’t know. I guess I just thought… I mean, it’s not like my parents are hardcore art lovers. My dad is into lit and stuff, but… they’ve always been chill about the acting thing. So I guess some part of me just though, okay, they’ll have to think about it some, but they’ll be cool with it. They’ll want me to be happy. And their reaction was just so… not that. Vanessa: Not what you anticipated. Nigel: No. So maybe that was my mistake. I set myself up from the start. Vanessa: It’s nice you even had that illusion, though. That speaks more highly of them than you realize. Me, I know any time I bring up my “dreams” or whatever, I’m guaranteed to get an eye roll from my parents, if not an earful about it. Nigel: Yikes. Sorry. Vanessa: Yeah, my pops is not a fan of the dance thing. To say the least. Suffice to say, I get unsupportive parents. [ a beat ] I just wonder if that’s actually what’s going on.

Nigel raises his eyebrows. Skeptical, but also hoping she has something impactful to say. That there’s any way to change the gloom that’s settled over them.

Nigel: I’m listening. Vanessa: Like, don’t take my word for it, since I’m just extrapolating. I wasn’t there, you were, and I don’t really know you like that to get all psychoanalytical on your family. But… I mean, you said just now that you figured they’d have to think about it, even if they were gonna have a good reaction. Nigel: Yeah… Vanessa: Part of you clearly knows that they weren’t going to be all rosy and happy about it right off the bat. You just got lost in the heat of the moment, in the pressure of saying it at all, that you forgot to keep some of your armor on. Because trust me, I know, if you’re not properly suited up, rejection hurts like a motherfucker. It totally blindsides you, makes any other sort of logical thought in the moment impossible.

There’s a reason she’s so guarded, as a general rule. Feels safer that way, albeit lonelier. And that’s not what she’s suggesting Nigel emulate, but looking back, she’s just trying to find where he left room for expectations to fall so short of reality.

Vanessa: Like, if you knew it was gonna take some time, how are things now? What does your mom think now? Nigel: … I don’t know. We haven’t said much to each other about it. [ a beat ] About anything, really, lately.

That’s a feeling Vanessa knows too. She gives him a sympathetic look.

Vanessa: Remember that I don’t know your business, so take this with a grain of salt. But I think it might be worth talking to them about it one more time. They’ve had time, so give them the chance to say their piece now. Nigel: I wouldn’t even know what to say. Vanessa: You don’t have to say anything. This time, they have to speak up. All you have to do is listen, and decide for yourself if you can vibe with it. Wherever they’ve landed. Just go into it with your eyes wide open and armor well fitted this time.

It wouldn’t be worth it with her parents, since they’ve been a lost cause for ages now. But she doesn’t get the sense Nigel’s family is the same way. It’s not going to be comfortable, or maybe end up perfectly tied up with a bow, but better to give it one last shot than accept a fate of fractured trust for the rest of his life.

Speaking of complicated families…

INT. GRACE’S BATHROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

Months have passed, now placing us firmly in Grace’s freshman year of college. Winter break to be exact, so it has already been a full semester of collegiate activity and fun.

Perhaps a little too much fun. Grace is pale and grim as she paces the tiny bathroom in her childhood home, now wrapped in a cozy crewneck from Texas A&M University. But no matter how comfortable it may be, it can’t insulate her from the reality blow she’s about to receive.

She checks her wristwatch, then reluctantly reaches towards the sink and retrieves a small piece of plastic. A pregnancy test.

A pregnancy test that reads positive.

Grace would be sick, if she was capable of feeling anything at all. She’s numb from shock, staring down at the test with a blank expression and absolutely no idea what to do.

Kenneth, pre-lap: What the hell is going on, Grace?

INT. KINSLEY FAMILY FARM - STABLES - FLASHBACK - DAY

It’s the last few days of winter break, and the world outside the wooden shell of the barn is frigid cold, even for Texas. Grace is bundled up in a coat as she cares for the horses that afternoon, using all of her focus to tend to them and have every excuse not to look at her boyfriend.

Kenneth is less bundled up, only sporting a sweatshirt from A&M -- he’s always ran hot. And he’s feeling especially so right now, frustration bubbling up as he tries to get Grace to speak to him. For whatever reason, she’s just started icing him out, and he has no clue why.

A fact that evidently does not please him. It makes him angrier to have her do it right in front of him, for him to be addressing her and her to go on as if he’s not even there.

Kenneth: You’re seriously not going to talk to me? You’re fucking pissed at me, and you won’t even have the decency to tell me why? Grace, quietly: I’m not mad at you. Kenneth: Then what the hell is wrong with you? Grace: Nothing. I’m fine.

Bullshit. But at least she’s finally biting. Kenneth doesn’t let it go, stepping closer.

Kenneth: You haven’t talked to me since Christmas Eve. You won’t take my calls. Seriously, what did I do that’s so terrible? [ with a huff ] And if you’re gonna dump me, is this really how you’re gonna do it? You ain’t even gonna look me in the eyes and tell me to fuck off? Grace: I don’t want to dump you. Kenneth: You know what you do to me, don’t you? You drive me crazy. It makes me crazy, how much I love you. I can’t deal when things are like this -- when you’re a thousand miles away. I want you -- I need you to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.

Grace wants to. Part of her does, but the rest of her that’s gripped with fear is stronger. So she stays silent, making sure Judy gets her fill of oats.

Once again rebuffed, and not understanding why, Kenneth snaps.

Kenneth: Jesus, Grace! This is ridiculous. [ a beat ] You found someone else. You found another guy, didn’t you? Grace: What? No. That’s -- Kenneth: I saw the way Jake was looking at you at the finals party. I swear, he is always trying to step on my shit. He’s mad he’s not quarterback, and then he sees that I’ve got the most beautiful girl on campus, and he just -- but he succeeded, didn’t he? He got what he wanted. Grace: No, Ken. Kenneth: Then why won’t you talk to me? Why can’t you look me in the eyes and say it to my face? [ impatient ] Grace --

He marches forward and takes her arm, tugging her in his direction to face him. She recoils and slips from his grasp, putting a few paces between them. But he manages to yank the truth out of her anyway.

Kenneth: Why can’t you just -- Grace: I’m pregnant!

The stable goes silent. Kenneth stares at her, dumbstruck; Grace can’t stare at him, dropping her humiliated gaze to the floor.

Kenneth: What? Grace: You wanted to know. That’s it. I’m pregnant.

She can say it all she wants, it won’t make it any easier to process. Kenneth shakes his head lightly, as if that’ll make the bomb un-detonate. When he manages to speak, it’s in a stunned murmur.

Kenneth: Are you serious? Grace: Yes. Kenneth: How long have you known? When did you -- ? Grace: Last week. [ a beat ] My period didn’t come. During Christmas. Kenneth: Fu -- you’re sure? Grace: [ resisting the urge to snap ] Yeah, I’m pretty sure.

Kenneth chokes out an exhale, spinning away from her and pressing his hands behind his head. He screws his eyes shut, fighting the wave of panic washing over him. Grace watches his every move, uncertain…

Then he knots his hands in his hair, letting out a profound cuss.

Kenneth: Holy shit!

Yeah, sounds about right. Grace makes herself smaller, crossing her arms.

Grace: Yeah. I know. Kenneth: Fuck. How the fuck did this happen? We didn’t -- we always use protection -- Grace: I know. I don’t know. Kenneth: What the hell are we going to do? [ turning to face her ] What did you do wrong?

Um, excuse me? Grace scowls, cheeks flushing.

Grace: What did I do? Um, I think you would know. Kenneth: Yeah, but -- but I wear a condom. I used protection. Grace: Well, it didn’t fucking work. Kenneth: Don’t talk to me like that. [ stammering ] You could’ve -- I kept telling you to get on the pill -- Grace: And I told you exactly why I couldn’t. You think my parents would ever let me do that? My dad still pretends to get out the shotgun every time you come over. And I could never do it behind their backs, I’m still on their insurance. Kenneth: There were ways. We could’ve gotten it -- Grace: Not safe ways. I said all this, and told you all this, but you said it was okay. You wanted to do it anyway. Kenneth: Because I love you! Because I wanted to be with my girl! I didn’t think --

No one ever thinks it’s going to happen to them until it does. Yet, here they are, party of two and counting.

For now, at least.

Kenneth: And what, were you just never going to tell me? If I hadn’t marched over here and made you talk, what were you gonna do then? [ rubbing his temples ] God, what are we gonna do now? Grace: Take care of it.

She says it calmly, despite the quiver in her voice. Like she’s already made up her mind. Kenneth locks eyes with her, absorbing that… and realizing what she’s implying.

Kenneth: Are you crazy? You can’t do that. Grace: I already figured out how. There’s a Planned Parenthood in Austin. I’ll go on the drive back to A&M, since it’s on the way. Kenneth: You -- you can’t. You cannot fucking do that. Do you hear what you’re saying? Grace: I don’t have any other choice. Kenneth: Any other choice than murder? How are you going to live with that? And -- fuck, what if people find out? Grace, shaky: They won’t. Kenneth: What if our parents find out? Grace, my parents will fucking murder me if they learn you got an abortion. If you killed -- Grace: Well, what’s the alternative?! Please, enlighten me, Ken. Show me what better choice there is, because I’m one-hundred percent sure you’re not ready to be a father.

Damn right, but that doesn’t help the stress at all. Kenneth presses his palms to his eyes, but the room keeps spinning anyway.

Kenneth: It’s all over. My life is over. This is going to fuck up everything. Grace: Exactly. I don’t want that to happen. That’s why I’m going to take care of it. Kenneth: No. No, Grace, you can’t. You can’t do this to -- to our -- Grace: To our what? You’re not the one who’s going to have to carry it. You realize that, right?

Kenneth passes her as he frantically paces, palms sweaty and feeling light-headed. Grace is tearing up.

Grace: I get that it’s fucked up. I get that I’m going to have to live with it for the rest of my life. But what’s the alternative, Ken? Be serious. I’m nineteen. I don’t want to be a mom -- I don’t want a fucking baby!

And they both know Kenneth doesn’t want one either, despite what Southern societal pressures might be weighing on their shoulders. So she’s going to do something about it, before both of them end up in a situation they know they’ll regret.

Still, the dread of the implications behind her choice is so visceral it’s near paralyzing. It keeps Kenneth fighting back even when he doesn’t know what for, when the other choice he’s indirectly advocating for is also a dead-end.

Kenneth: Grace, don’t do this. Listen to me. You cannot do this -- Grace: Sorry, but I don’t think it’s actually your choice.

In an instant, under enormous stress, something in Kenneth snaps.

Kenneth: Like hell it’s my fucking choice! It’s my baby!

Grace stares at him, bewildered at his outburst. She doesn’t understand why he’s fighting so hard, when she knows logically the alternative will be worse for both of them. What is he holding on so tightly for?

Grace: I’m doing this for both of us. You don’t want this, Ken. Neither do I. Kenneth: You don’t get to tell me what I want or don’t want. And you’re not going to send us both to Hell for your selfish choice. I’m not letting you take me down with you. Grace: What are you even talking about? Do you hear yourself?! Kenneth: You aren’t fucking listening to me. Grace: You can’t really think -- Kenneth: Goddamn it, Grace, would you just fucking LISTEN TO ME?

In a fit of rage, Kenneth reaches out for the first thing he can grab, ripping it off the wall and throwing it as hard as he can. It flies past Grace, causing her to duck away, and crashes against the door of one of the horse stalls, shattering into dozens of pieces.

Once Grace regains her bearings, she looks over at where the object landed, expression riddled with horror.

Her horseshoe. One of her most prized possessions, now shattered into oblivion across the ground.

Kenneth threw it away like it was nothing. Like it held no importance -- or maybe precisely because it did. It’s impossible to tell, especially now that the heat of the moment has passed and he looks as mortified as she does. He meets her eyes.

Kenneth: Grace. I’m sorry.

She can’t look away from him, heart pounding, even as she starts to back away. When he tries to close the distance between them, she scrambles further apart.

Kenneth: Let’s just talk about this --

Then she’s running. Full speed, down the slope of the stables and out into the cold embrace of the farmland in winter. Kenneth curses, stumbling after her.

Kenneth: Grace. GRACE!

He huffs out another “fuck” and kicks at the nearest beam, causing the horses to bray in fear.

EXT. KINSLEY FAMILY FARM - FLASHBACK - DAY

Grace runs as fast as her legs will carry her, not daring to look back. Not even sure what she’s running from after a certain point, but positive from the fear in her bones and the desperation coursing through her veins that she has to get away.

She blinks back any tears that surface, allowing the brisk winter chill to dry them away.

INT. FUNERAL HOME - MONTAGE - DAY

Grace’s eyes remain dry in the present, expression skillfully schooled and delicately somber as the funeral gets underway. A brief montage reflects the passage of the afternoon into evening, Christian rites being done in honor of Kenneth’s extended family.

Interwoven throughout, guests of all sorts give little voluntary speeches at the podium. Gushing about how much they loved Kenneth Friar, what a guiding light and stalwart force he was in their communities. Filled with genuine grief, full of fond reminiscent memories to share.

Grace and Lucas remain quiet. They let everyone else fill the time, listening silently but not willing -- or able -- to step up and share any memories of their own. For now, this absence goes unnoticed.

Lucas continues to look a bit nauseous, particularly every time young men from the Quincy football team praise Kenneth for his paternal wisdom and support. But he gets through it. He remains steady, surviving the bulk of the funeral without incident.

In no small part thanks to Riley, who stays faithful by his side the entire time. He keeps his hand locked with hers, using it as an anchor to ground him to the present.

EXT. NORTH HOLLYWOOD PARK - DAY

Josh’s hands are interlocked with his own, fingers twisting anxiously as he paces the park in his neighborhood. He’s waiting by a bench where he agreed to meet up with Maya, rehearsing what he thinks he’ll need to say in his head to make his case about her artistic direction before convincing himself he’s being an idiot and scrapping it out loud.

He’s saved from his own spiral when Maya arrives, making her way down the sidewalk towards him. He tells himself to pull it together and not at least act like a freak when she’s in front of him, managing to conjure up a somewhat convincing laid-back smile as she approaches.

Maya is about as stable, far from her usual starry sheen. She’s gone to the effort to dress closer to her usual style rather than sweatpants, but it’s still leagues from her standard. The only reason Josh doesn’t notice is because he’s too caught up in his own head.

Josh: Hi. Hey. Maya: Hi. Thanks for agreeing to meet here.

Instead of in Hollywood near Global Beat, which is where Josh initially assumed they’d get together. But Maya very quickly made it clear she did not want to be in that neighborhood. Considering she’s willing to chat with him at all, he was happy to oblige.

Josh: No worries. It’s my scene over here, after all, so. No biggie. Maya: Right.

Right… well. Now that they’re both there… Josh’s mental gymnastics does him no good, because he stumbles into the conversation about as haphazardly as one could.

Josh: So. Your demos. I know I probably overstepped and rubbed my big, egotistical producer hands all over it, so I’m more than open to hearing your clapbacks. If we argue about it and do nothing else, that’s all good. I just wanted to make sure you at least saw my thoughts. [ off her silence ] Just ‘cause -- like I said, they’re good. You’ve really got something beyond just like, “Haute Stuff,” you know? I figured if you saw that I put in the effort, you’d get that they’re worth --

Maya’s silence becomes more understandable the longer he rambles. It was defensive, the last ditch fight to keep it together, because the moment sound does escape her it’s certainly not confident clapping back. 

In an instant, she’s crying. And once she starts, then it’s even worse, because the utter mortification of crying in front of anyone, Josh Matthews especially, is damning enough. She brings a hand up to her face to try to hide it, to cover it any way she can, but it’s no use.

Josh blinks, totally caught off-guard. What the hell did he say? What could he have possibly done if Maya is tearing up? He’s horrible with comforting people as it is, particularly criers, and now he’s gone and made this niece-shaped frenemy turn on the waterworks.

Josh: Shit. Are you -- I’m sorry, whatever I did --

Maya shakes her head. It’s not him. God, based on what he just said, he could not be further from the problem.

Then she’s sobbing, closing the space between them and pulling him into a hug.

Josh has no idea what’s going on. He has no idea what to do, or how a lunch meeting went south so quickly, or how on Earth he ended up with Maya Hart crying into his sweater and holding onto his torso like a life preserver. There is no version of reality where he would’ve predicted this is how things would go.

But what he does know is Maya needs him. If she of all people is broken down this badly, showing her cards so easily, it has to be for good reason. And he knows if Riley were in a situation like that, he’d want her to be in the best, safest company she could find.

So that’s all there is to do. That’s all that matters. Josh opts to put the music aside, rolling with the punches and doing his best to comfort her in spite of the awkwardness. He lightly returns the hug and pats her back.

Josh: Hey. Hey… it’s gonna be okay. You’re good. It’s okay.

He really has no idea. Maya hugs tighter and only cries harder.

The two of them are just another everyday spectacle, lost in the land that made a business out of it.

END OF PART 1.

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[sorikkung]

baby bunny. || c.soobin x gn!reader

soobin is a shy boy, you know this. but he wants to be a good boy for you - your perfect little baby bunny.

word count: 13k

pairings: established gn!reader (afab) x poly ot5 (soobin centric)

genre: smut, fluff if you squint

tags: non-idol au, sub!soobin, switch!reader (mostly dom), public/risky sex (remote controlled vibrator), bunny!soobin in lingerie, collars and leashes, ass eating, pegging, a bit of choking & spanking, soobin has a humiliation kink and a size kink, lots of manhandling, kink with an Audience, yes the audience in question is txt, group sex, double penetration, edging & overstim, dacryphilia, a bit of degradation, established safe words, recording, bondage, lots of cum, seriously so much cum

a/n: i call huening kai hyuka almost exclusively in this fic lmfao. for an assortment of reasons, but you can change it to whatever w the interactivefics extension as well as the four underscores to your name.

this one's for you worstie, director of boyfies, dweller of bogs, head sock... you know who you are <3

Soobin had always been the shy type, but you’ve never seen him so nervous before he even does so much as utter a word. Standing in your doorway, he fidgets with his hands, staring at you until you look back and then immediately looks somewhere else, gnawing cutely on his bottom lip-

“You can come in, you know?”

“Oh- uh, right.” Soobin clears his throat, awkwardly shuffling into the room and plopping himself lightly on the edge of your bed. How his impressively tall frame manages to take up the smallest amount of space possible never fails to amuse you, pulling a smile at your lips. He’s so cute.

“Spit it out already, what’s got you so worked up, bun?” You ask, a twinge of satisfaction flooding through you when his eyes widen slightly at the nickname, cheeks and ears going even pinker with just the single word. He really does look like a bunny, with his wide eyes and perfectly shaped lips.

He looks at the floor, playing with his hands again. “Oh just… y’know. Wondering. Uh… about… kinks, and stuff.”

There it is. You smile softly, trying to tone down your excitement at his words – he already seems like he’s about to jump out of his skin at the slightest of sounds. “Well, you know I’m always down to talk about kink, bunny. Is there something you want to try?”

He takes a deep breath as if to prepare himself, holds it, then sighs, flopping backward onto the mattress. “N-Nevermind. I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it? Soobin, you know I’m eager to hear anything you have to say on the matter. I’d never judge you for it,” you soothe, scooting over next to him and draping yourself over his body to cuddle. “Trust me, my list of things I won’t try is a lot shorter than the list of things I would. Especially if you’re involved.”

“Yeah?” Soobin props his head up on his arm, the other naturally falling around you, hugging you close to him. With your head on his chest, you can hear how hard his heart is pounding as he tries to keep his cool on the outside, so you press a gentle kiss to his chest in encouragement. “Well… then what kind of things do you want to try?”

“Soobin,” you chuckle incredulously, “You can just tell me what it is, you know. I’ll probably be down.”

“It’s embarrassing!” He whines, shoving a pillow into his face, muffling his next words. “You first. If you’re so kinky, tell me the all the wild kinks you have.”

“How much time you got?”

He laughs brightly, seeming to finally ease up a bit, peeking his face out from behind the pillow. “Seriously! I’m being serious, baby…”

“So am I!” You laugh back, sitting up to snatch the pillow from him and lightly thwack him with it. “We’ll be here a while. Do you want them alphabetically, chronologically, in order of most to least socially acceptable or—"

“I want you to do dirty things to me because I get really turned on when you guys tease me, especially in public,” he quietly blurts out all at once, immediately grabbing back the pillow and shoving his face into it again before he even finishes his sentence. “This- This is so embarrassing. But I kind of like it! Being embarrassed! I-It’s weird but whenever you tease me, even when it’s not super sexual like just a nickname or a joke, I-I should be mortified but instead my body gets all hot a-and—” his voice dips into a faint murmur, “—I get hard. Every time. I don’t know why, I just do, sorry, it’s so weird…”

He rolls over away from you and onto his stomach, still smothering himself with the pillow like it’d soften the blow to his pride somehow. You reach over to card a hand into his hair, giving him a few reassuring head scritches.

“Oh bunny… that’s not weird at all. Getting aroused at a bit of humiliation is actually really normal. You’re not weird or gross or anything – on the contrary, I think it’s pretty hot.”

Finally peeling himself away from the pillow and looking up at you, he hugs the pillow to his chest and shuffles back into a sitting position. “Really? That’s a relief, aha… oh wow. My heart is pounding.”

“Are you hard, too?” You tease, reaching for the massive pillow in his lap slow enough for him to pull back if he was uncomfortable – but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even grip the pillow any harder, letting you take it away from him and reveal the tent in his sweatpants, flushing crimson all the way down to his neck. “Aww, baby bunny really likes being embarrassed, hm? How cute.”

He shoves a hand over the lower half of his face as if it’d hide his deep blush at all, nodding carefully. Being embarrassed at admitting how much he likes being embarrassed – he truly is the gift that just keeps on giving. You can have so much fun with this, you think, and ideas start firing up in your mind at a million miles per hour.

“Can I tell the others about this, too?”

He pauses for a moment, mulling it over, then nods. “Y-Yeah. Well, maybe just Yeonjun to start with. I feel like the others would make fun of me- oh.” He looks down into his lap, remembering how he got in this situation in the first place. “Maybe… I mean, if you think they’ll like it…”

“Oh, Soobin,” you coo, sliding yourself into his lap while he swallows thickly and glances frantically between your face and where crotch is sitting all too close to his, “Why do you think we all tease you so much in the first place? You’re just so cute when you blush like this.”

Looping his arms around your waist, he buries his burning face in the crook of your neck, letting out a little whine. “Ah, stop…”

“Oh?” You immediately pull back, not wanting to push him too far, but before you could say anything else he pulls you back flush against him, arms wrapped tightly around you and chin hooked over your shoulder, hard on pressed up against your clothed core.

“I-I don’t mean that. I don’t know. It just feels very… it’s a lot, but I like it, even though my instinct is to say stop…”

“How about we implement a traffic light system, then?” You suggest helpfully, “It’s the same one I use with Jjunie and the others. Red means stop, yellow means this is the most I can take, and green means we’re good to keep going. I’ll ask you your colour to check in on you from time to time, but you can just say them whenever you feel the need to.”

Soobin nods quickly. “That sounds good.”

“So, what’s your colour right now, bun?”

“Green.”

“Good boy.”

A shiver goes down his spine at your words, and he only trembles more when you roll your hips down into his, gripping onto his broad shoulders.

“What kinds of dirty things did you want me to do to you, Soobinnie? Tie you up? Spit in your mouth? Make you cum in your pants? You’ll have to be specific, baby.”

“I-I don’t know,” he mumbled, his grip around your smaller form still firm as if to ground him. “I don’t really know what kind of things I’m into yet. But you do, which is why I asked… so if you want to try anything with me, I want to… yeah. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

You click your tongue, running your hands through his hair. “Such dangerous promises from such a sensitive little bunny. I want to completely ruin you, Soobin. I’m not sure if you can handle all that.”

“Please.” He fucking whimpers, the same kind of sound you only heard when he was close or when you hit his spot just right. You grind down on him again, this time more out of instinct than anything else, then you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you. The action makes his cock twitch beneath you, and the rush of power that comes with it is intoxicating.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re first stopping by the sex toy shop.”

“Wait, what?”

“You said you’ll do whatever you want me to. I’m going to grab Jjunie’s favourite remote-control plug, and you’re going to be a good boy for me till we get back.”

You take it easy on him to start with, since you’d never done this kind of thing with Soobin before – it was more of you and Yeonjun’s thing, Taehyun and Beomgyu preferred having the remote, and Hyuka was too intimidated to try such a thing in public as he was by far the worst at controlling his facial expressions or trying not to cum. You left the toy off for the whole drive to your favourite store, letting him relax a little, only to activate it the moment you walked through the door with no more warning than a brief cheek kiss.

His whole body jolts for a moment, so you grab at his hips to steady him, but that only seems to rile him up more as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“You good?”

“I’m good. We’re green.”

You smile at him and link your hands in silent praise, although the cashier would’ve likely guessed what was going on right away. The plug was only on it’s lowest setting, which was effectively silent against the music the store was playing, so Soobin manages to recollect himself, squeezing your hand tightly and giving you an assured nod.

“Alright,” you hum, shoving a basket into his hands, “How about you grab some of our usual lube and toy cleaner? We’re running a little low, if I recall. Feel free to see if there’s anything else you’d like while we’re here – you’ll need to be a good boy and use your words, though. Okay?”

The familiar flush returns to his face, nodding quickly. “O-Okay.”

Part of him is clearly dying to ask what you’d be getting in the meantime, but he knows better than to ask – if you would tell him, you would’ve told him already. No, he’s a good boy, and good boys obey without asking questions.

While he scurries off to track down the cherry-flavoured lube Hyuka loves so much, you waste no time browsing. You’ve had your eyes on the playboy bunny outfit ever since you first saw it in the store, and what better opportunity to try it than this?

Not for you, of course. For him.

The fact that he has no idea what to expect makes it even better, and you think he’d be peeking over to see what you’re getting, but obediently enough, he doesn’t even look your way. Smiling to yourself, you hurry over to pay at the counter, making sure to get an opaque bag to store it in before finding your way back to Soobin.

“Found anything you like, bun?”

He damn near jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, the toy in his hands falling to the floor before he could stop it – and then he freezes, half bent over in his pitiful attempt to catch this frankly massive dildo bigger than anything in your collection.

“U-Um, I was just looking at it—” He breaks off into a surprised squeak as you bring down a hand on his ass, making him bolt upright, hands flying up to hide his face in embarrassment again.

You very slowly and deliberately bend over to pick it up, examining it all around. “It’s pretty big. Six inches not enough for you, hmm? What a greedy little bunny.”

He’s embarrassed out of his mind, and he loves it – you can tell by the way his hips keep twitching slightly, no doubt being helped by the vibrator inside him, slowly working away at his resolve. It’s ridiculously cute, the way he takes a deep, deep breath to calm himself, or at least trying to. Moving his hands away from his face at last, he apprehensively looks between the toy and your face, asking in a hushed murmur, “…does that mean you’re getting it?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, turning it around in your hands, “Am I? Do you want it, Soobinnie? If you do, remember what I said about being a good boy.”

Soobin gnaws on his lower lip – he wants to be a good boy for you so bad, but as much as he loves the hot feeling of humiliation, it’s different when you do it to him and when he has to do it himself. You watch the internal struggle behind his eyes as he hesitates for a few moments, debating whether it’d be worth it or not, but in the end, his boner wins over his dignity. He hardly had any of the latter left, anyway.

“I… I want it,” he whispers, holding the basket out, hands shaking just a little. “Can we…?”

“Are you sure?” You ask, less demeaning this time. “This is big even by my standards, we’ll have to work you up to it—”

“I can take it,” Soobin blurts out, sliding the basket onto his arm and clasping both your hands in his, looking at you dead in the eyes. “Please?”

“Okay,” you hum softly, placing it back onto the shelf and sliding one of the boxes behind it into the basket with a chuckle, “We can get it. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He offers you an awkward half-grin, scratching behind his ear. “Heh, have to keep you on your toes somehow, right?”

You reward him by turning up the toy’s intensity on your phone, and this time he isn’t able to hold back the startled moan that falls from his lips, clutching at your shoulder for support.

“A-Ah— can you- can you turn it down a little, please, fuck…” His head rolls back and his eyes fall closed, mouth slightly parted, and it’s the perfect tease of what’s to come, igniting a fire beneath your skin.

“No.”

You turn it up just a little bit more, making him gasp and stumble forward, eyes blown wide at the stimulation, pleadingly gazing into yours. “Please?”

“No,” you repeat simply, meeting his gaze. If he reallywanted you to turn it down, he knew what he had to say, but the deliberate lack of those words made you grin menacingly. “Stand up straight, bun. We’re going to go pay for these.”

“N-No— wait—!” He grabs your wrist and pulls you to his chest, looping his arms around you to keep you in place. His face returns to his usual spot in the crook of your neck, and you can feel how his body keeps on shivering, how fast his heart is beating, how his skin is warm to touch. “I-I’m seriously gonna cum if you don’t turn it down, p-please, jagi, I-I’m so close…”

You love having him both wrapped around your body like this and wrapped around your pinkie finger – his tall stature towering over you and yet, he seems so small, all because of you. You have half the mind not to let him cum, knowing full well he probably would anyway; it’d just give you an excuse to punish and humiliate him further, but he’s always so eager to be good. Would that make him feel bad? The solution comes to you as you nip at the shell of his ear, rubbing his back, and he muffles a high-pitched noise against your skin.

“I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to cum yet, Soobinnie.”

“Please.” That precious sound again. You don’t know what he’s begging for anymore, whether it’s to stop or to keep going, but he hardly seems to know either. He tries to keep his voice low so he doesn’t draw any more attention, the tall shelf next to you the only thing blocking the two of you from the staff and other customer’s sight, but he struggles. You can feelthe tension in his body as he desperately tries to hold himself back, gripping onto you like a lifeline. “Please, I-I’m— ____, please.”

Oh, how you love hearing your baby bunny beg.

“Oh? Does my baby bunny want to cum in his pants in the middle of this store? How naughty. What if someone catches you, hm? Sees how much of a desperate little mess you are for me?”

“Please, please, please, ah fuck— s-stop, please, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” It’s but a broken whine, barely louder than a whisper, and he bites down onto your neck as the thread finally snaps under the pressure, spilling into his pants. He can’t seem to stop trembling, all of his willpower going into staying quiet as his orgasm rushes through him. It takes some effort on your part too with how hard he’s biting you, but you know that’ll just add to the sheer embarrassment of cumming in his pants in public – now you have a fresh bite mark on your neck to show for it.

When Soobin finally stops shaking like a leaf, he slowly peels back, eyes wide, glancing down at the mess he made of his pants, blushing a brilliant shade of red. “I-I’m sorry, I came without permission I- I— I’m sorry…”

“Aw, you poor thing,” you coo, running your hand through his hair in a soothing motion that quickly has him melting into your touch. “That’s okay, bunny. You’ll just have to make it up to me later, won’t you?”

His eyes glitter at the prospect of redemption, nodding earnestly. “Yes, yes— I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I’ll be a good boy for you.”

He leaves a lingering kiss on your lips, then crushes you in a hug. “Thank you. Can I, um- can I cover it with my jacket, or…?”

“Or? Should I make you parade around the mess you’ve made?” You’re certain you’ll never grow tired of the flustered expression he makes at comments like this, but you rub his shoulders reassuringly. “Don’t worry, you’ve embarrassed yourself enough for now, at least. Use your jacket if you want, but I’m pretty sure the cashier will still notice the bite mark on my neck that wasn’t there before…”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be. I like showing it off.”

He trails after you like a lost puppy, but you don’t miss the way he swallows thickly at the showing off comment. You’ll just have to show him off more, you think, and by the time you finish the transaction – Soobin avoiding the cashier’s gaze at every opportunity – and are back in the car, you can’t tell whether Soobin’s more worked up or if you are.

As soon as you open the door to your apartment, Soobin is already ushering you through it, then caging you against it as it shuts behind you. You almost drop your bag of goods at the way he kisses you, deep and fervent, like he needs it. Maybe he does, you think to yourself, smirking against his lips – those soft, plump lips, you could kiss them forever if he’d let you (which you know he would in a heartbeat if you just asked him nicely) – considering you hadn’t turned off the toy in him since he came, only lowering the setting a level.

He’s not usually needy like this. Needy, definitely, but usually far more restrained – looking at you with those pleading eyes, subtly trying to shift you to where he wants you, whining a little, but rarely straight up taking what he wants, shoving you up against a door and kissing you breathless. Not that you mind. In fact, you’re keen to see just howneedy you can get him by the time you’re done with him.

You indulge him this time. Letting his hands roam freely over your body, letting him slip his tongue in your mouth, letting him peel your clothes off in a hurry, but part of him must know it’s not going to be that easy. He doesn’t try do any more than that, clearly waiting for you to give the next direction, but you don’t. You kiss him back just as eagerly until he finally pulls his head back just to scan your features, figure out what you want from him. Then it clicks.

“I want to try it now,” he urges, carefully taking the handles of the bag from your hands. “I can’t wait. Please?”

“So impatient, Soobinnie,” you giggle, tapping his nose. “So excited about your new toy, too. Don’t you want to know what I bought for you?”

He nods so quickly you’re surprised it doesn’t make him dizzy. “That’s what I mean. I want to try it now. Whatever it is, I just—” his voice drops into a husky whisper, “I want you. I want you to have your way with me.”

Fuck. Making him use his words was meant to embarrass him further, making him tell you all the dirty things he thinks, but you didn’t think it’d end up making you weak in the knees. You don’t think he even realises what talking like that does to you, his one-track mind simply trying to obey, to please you.

“What a good boy you’re being for me.” You smile at him, taking out the bag within the bag, shoving it into his hands and taking the other. “Go and put that on, and I’ll get the strap ready. Okay?”

You can almost hear his internal monologue out loud – oh my god, is this finally happening? – before he nods quickly and hurries off to the bathroom.

By the time he comes to your room, you’re already in a silk robe with your strap-on ready with the new toy, the previous one you usually use on hand to work him up to it; but it nearly falls out of your hands this time as soon as you see him walk into view.

The bunny ears were clearly straightened after being crumpled into the original packaging – you grin at the image of Soobin in the bathroom mirror trying to fix them, trying to look pretty for you, not that he really needed to try – the black leotard and sheer tights hugging him in all the right places, the collar with a slightly lopsided bowtie snug against his neck, and Soobin himself looking both the shyest and most excited you’ve ever seen him.

“Wow,” you breathe out, eyes boldly roaming across his form from head to toe, “You look so sexy for me, bun. How do you like it?”

Soobin’s eyes drop to the floor, pulling his lip between his teeth. “It’s… really embarrassing. But I like it,” he adds quietly, looking over his shoulder to see if any of your other boyfriends are out and about. “I keep thinking the others are home and that they’ll see me. My heart’s pounding right now…”

“The others are home,” you inform him promptly, “I believe they’re all in their rooms. Why, do you want them to see you?”

“I-I—” He swallows thickly. “They’ll probably make fun of me. Especially Beomgyu.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, bun. Do you want them to see you?”

His eyes widen, realising he’s been caught, playing with his hands again. “…K-Kind of.”

“It’s a yes or no question, baby.”

“Y-Yes. I… I want them to see me like this. I want to show them… that I’m… their little bunny.”

He slowly brings his hands to his face again as he speaks, but you get up and pull them away from him, forcing him to look at you. Keeping your grip on his wrists, you pull him over to where your box of toys was kept, pulling out a black leather leash and clipping it on right behind his bowtie. You study his face for his reaction, but he bites back an excited smile.

Smiling back at him, you give the leash a sharp tug, and he inhales sharply, eyes closing for that moment before meeting yours in a dark, half-lidded gaze. He likes it.

“Good bunny.”

Strutting past him and tugging him along by the leash, you grab the lube with your other hand, then pull him with you to the living room. He nearly trips over his own feet when he finds Huening Kai and Beomgyu on the couch, the former doing a double take as soon as Soobin walked in.

They had been filled in on Soobin’s newly discovered kink earlier, you having texted it to them while you were grabbing his outfit at the adult store, but neither of them seemed to have expected it so soon, caught off guard while just scrolling on their phones.

“You boys busy?” You ask them sweetly, twirling the line around your wrist to pull Soobin closer as he tried to hide his giant frame behind you, shyly peeking over your shoulder. Giving the collar a firmer tug, you pulled him down to your height, kissed his cheek, then maneuvered him in front of you to show off. “Our baby bunny wants to play. Doesn’t he look cute?”

Beomgyu is the first to stop staring in awed silence, shoving his phone in his pocket, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Wow… I didn’t expect you to like dressing up for this kind of thing, Soobinnie. Is there a tail too?”

Soobin doesn’t protest as you use the finger hooked under the collar to spin him around, showing off the little puff of white. Beomgyu seems ecstatic at this, going straight to smack the taller man’s ass, laughing as his whole body tenses up in surprise, making a tiny sound that has him blushing even harder when he meets Beomgyu’s eyes over his shoulder.

“I like it. I just never knew our Soobinnie was into being our pet… if I knew, I would’ve put that leash on him sooner. Would you have let me? Or is this a ____-only privilege, huh?”

“I-I’d let you,” Soobin stammered, unable to meet his eyes. His words seem forced out, not like he doesn’t mean them, but like it’s taking all of his willpower to commit to saying them aloud. “I-If you wanted. All of you.”

Beomgyu snickers, spanking him again. “Wow, so you’re just that desperate? You want all of us to own you, drag you around by the throat, treat you like a silly little rabbit? Embarrass you more because it gets your dick hard? How dirty.”

Beomgyu is really good at embarrassing Soobin, you think. He always has been, but now that he knows it turns him on, you figure that’s only going to increase tenfold. You know it definitely will on your end, at least, and you wonder if he will get used to the teasing or keep getting as flustered as he is right now. Then again, after years of dating him, he still gets flustered when we call him bunny sometimes.

The youngest seemed at a loss for words, simply staring open-mouthed at the sight in front of him, not-so-subtly adjusting his pants, to which you smiled softly at him.

“You’re allowed to touch yourself, Hyuka. You can touch our little bunny too if you want, but for now I mostly just want you to watch. Do you two mind getting Taehyun and Yeonjun?”

The two are quick to nod and split towards the remaining boys’ rooms, leaving you and Soobin alone in the living room. You clear the coffee table, figuring Soobin wouldn’t mind the discomfort if it meant the perfect place for the rest of your boyfriends to sit around him and watch him fall apart for you.

“Hands and knees, bunny,” you order him, running a hand along his spine as he bent over for you. He looked over his shoulder at you, eyes wide with anticipation, biting his lip again as he pulled the leotard to the side, then realising a problem.

“The… tights…”

“Easily fixed,” you hum, bringing your face down to his ass and pulling at the thin material, then ripping a hole in it with your teeth. He keened into your touch, a silent request for more, which you decide to indulge. Cracking open the cherry-flavoured lube, you squeeze a generous amount onto his hole, slightly stretched from the love egg in it earlier, but still with a long way to go.

Your boyfriends enter the room again to the sight of you holding Soobin’s leotard aside, eagerly lapping at his asshole, grabbing and squeezing at his cheeks through the ripped tights.

“Woah,” Yeonjun exhales, gaping at you both in disbelief, sitting down on the couch without peeling his eyes away. “Is it my birthday already or something?”

Taehyun’s eyes immediately darken, strolling over to get a better look at Soobin in the playboy bunny costume, circling him almost menacingly before sitting down with a satisfied grin. “Are you embarrassed right now, Soobin?”

Soobin whimpers, shutting his eyes as if that’d help him not notice all the hungry eyes on him – but he didn’t want to block them out, not really. Not when they set off every nerve ending in his body and made his dick twitch under the tight material of the leotard, clenching around your tongue with a shaky “N-Not there— that’s so d-dirty— ah—!” that has you only pushing deeper into him.

“Hey,” Taehyun snaps, leaning forward to grab Soobin’s chin to look at him. “I asked you a question. Are you embarrassed right now, Soobin?”

“Y-Yes,” Soobin gasps out, avoiding eye contact but pushing back onto your mouth, “I feel like a t-toy on display but- but- nngh— I—"

I like it. He didn’t need to finish that sentence for you all to know exactly what he meant. He sighs again when you finally pull away, dropping to his elbows on the hard surface of the coffee table, but the coolness of it is a refreshing contrast to the heat beneath his skin.

“Why are you whining, baby? Don’t you want to be stuffed to the brim with the massive cock you picked out today?” You tease, making his eyes drop down to the toy firmly secured onto your harness, licking his lips and swallowing. “That’s what I thought. But we need to work you up to it, don’t we? So, who’s going to volunteer…?”

Hyuka and Taehyun stand up at the same time, almost tripping over each other’s feet. Their eagerness is endearing; when Hyuka takes a step in front of him, Taehyun simply shoves him back toward the couch with that cheeky grin you’ve grown to love.

“Now, now, boys, patience is a virtue. You both can have your turn; after all, we’ll need to stretch him out nice and wide for my cock,” you purr, relishing the way Soobin shivers at your words alone.

“Oh, I’ll stretch him out alright.”

Taehyun doesn’t waste any time, shoving two fingers into Soobin’s mouth and commanding for him to suck. Soobin, ever the good boy, obeys without question, sloppily swirling his tongue around them and taking them further into his mouth until he seems satisfied.

“Just remember who’s in charge tonight, Taehyun,” you warn him, levelling him with a steely look that tells him not to get ahead of himself. “This is Soobin and I’s scene, I don’t want any trying to take over from you. Or any of you – looking at you, Beomgyu.”

“When have I ever done that?” Beomgyu replies in a sing-song voice that honestly answers his own question, unable to resist a cheeky smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good just this once. Only cause I wanna see you wreck Soobinnie’s cute little asshole.”

You’re quite pleased with that – yes, that will do just swimmingly – and settle yourself on the couch chair to the side of the coffee table, the perfect view to see your boyfriends’ faces from the front. Soobin shrinks under the intensity of everyone’s gazes, but when you slowly pull on his leash again and hold it there, he seems to hold himself a little higher; almost as if the reminder that he’s yours tonight gives him more confidence.

“More, more please,” Soobin pleads, face shoved into his arm as Taehyun slips a third finger into him, “Just give me your cock, I’m ready.”

“You’re quivering,” Taehyun deadpans, giving his ass a resounding smack. “Well, I was trying to be gentle, but if you’re going to be so needy…”

With one hand hastily undoing his pants to take his cock out, the other creeps forward to wrap around Soobin’s neck – only for you to yank him out of reach with a firm tug on the leash.

“What did I just say, Taehyun?”

Taehyun tongues at the inside of his cheek, biting back any attitude. He isn’t above trying to give you a run for your money when it comes to being in charge, but he knows his place as a participating audience member this time rather than another dom. He sighs, smoothing his hands over Soobin’s body and playfully flicking the little tail. “Fine.”

You all pay rapt attention as Taehyun ever-so-slowly pushes himself into Soobin, hissing sharply at the tightness while Soobin lets out a breathy moan, already bucking his hips back onto him, completely unprompted. Your little escapade at the adult store must have worked him up more than you thought – good. You press your thighs together in anticipation, already letting your mind get ahead of yourself in all the ways you can drag it out even more.

“What a slutty little bunny,” Yeonjun drawls, snapping you out of your reverie, “Already fucking himself back on Taehyunie’s cock before he even has a chance to move.”

“Ngh— you g-guys are so mean,” Soobin whines, giving Yeonjun a half-hearted glare that looks far cuter than it does threatening considering he’s wearing bunny ears with Taehyun balls-deep inside him. “I’ve been— ah- t-teased all day— oh fuck ngh-! C-Came in my pants in the sex shop— fuck, Taehyun!”

“You came in your pants in the sex shop?” Beomgyu echoes, cracking into mocking laughter, “Aww, our little bunny made a mess of his pants in public? Did anyone else see you with cum all over your pants?”

“S-Stop,” Soobin mumbles, but the boys are relentless, all leaning forward on the edge of their seats to get a better look at his body trembling with each snap of Taehyun’s hips.

He groans, low and throaty, slowing his thrusts to give the rest of you a clearer view of Soobin’s hole hugging his cock. “He says stop but he’s clenching so tight around me right now… could it be… our Soobinnie likesbeing talked to like that?”

“N-No!”

“Then what’s your colour?” Hyuka chimes in, trying to seem gentle and sweet like Soobin always is with him – but his excitement comes off him in waves, and he can’t quite bite back his giggly smile enough.

A strangled moan falls from Soobin’s lips when he realises he’s been backed into a corner; he can’t lie, not about this. Not that he wantedto lie in the first place, he always wants to be honest, always wants to please - but with the accusatory teasing he couldn’t help but deny it on reflex.

You tug on his leash again. “Answer when we ask you a question, bun.”

“G-Green,” he mutters at last, confirming what you and the others already knew, and you could practically feel the red-hot shame rushing through him and straight to his dick. “D-Don’t look at me like th-that— I just— ah, please!”

“What are you pleading for, bunny? Use your words.”

It’s a twisted request and you know it. He’d been so riled up from all the foreplay that he was already a desperate mess and talking was made even more difficult with the way Taehyun was mercilessly pounding into him from behind.

“M-More, please, I-I want more, f-fuuuck…”

His eyes roll back into his head as Taehyun angles his hips just right, giving his ass another couple of firm smacks. “Greedy bunny. Is my cock not enough for you? Come on then, Hyuka.”

Hyuka jolts in his seat, flushing under all the eyes now on him where he’d been timidly stroking himself over his sweatpants in contrast to Beomgyu and Yeonjun, who were shamelessly jerking themselves off next to him. “O-Okay— How do I…?”

Taehyun finally slows down to a stop, Soobin making a disappointed noise of protest until you’re manhandling him up with the leash again, back pressed to Taehyun’s chest.

“Lay down on the table,” you instruct, and Hyuka is just about as eager to please as Soobin is. “Take your clothes off. Actually,” you pause, a malicious idea forming in your mind, “Soobin, you do it. With your teeth, hands behind your back. Taehyunnie, keep fucking him.”

Both Hyuka and Soobin end up matching shades of jasper, the younger holding his breath subconsciously in anticipation. Soobin falls forward onto Hyuka’s chest at the resume of Taehyun’s powerful strokes, his cute little “Oof!” making you, Yeonjun and Beomgyu giggle at him, endeared. He ends up nuzzling Hyuka’s stomach, sliding his shirt up a little before grabbing it with his teeth, and Hyuka seems to only just remember how to breathe. He leans up to let Soobin peel back the fabric easier, but with one particularly rough thrust from behind, he falls forward again, instinctively bracing his fall with both hands on either side of the man beneath him.

He freezes, limbs locking up as it sinks in what he just did.

“What did I just say, Soobinnie?” You scold him coldly, pulling on the cord until he’s merely inches away from Hyuka’s face, who’s frozen still, heart beating out of his chest.

“Y-You said h-hands behind my back,” he breathes out, but he isn’t looking at you. His eyes are fixated on Hyuka’s mouth right in front of him, while the smaller boy is so overwhelmed and turned on his vision trembles. Tentatively leaning forward, he plants a light kiss on his lips, and Hyuka responds in kind – cupping the back of his neck and kissing him back with unbridled enthusiasm.

You nod at Taehyun, who clicks his tongue and grabs at Soobin’s wrists, pulling them behind him roughly and using his grip on them as leverage to keep pounding him ruthlessly. Soobin doesn’t seem to mind, messily attempting to keep kissing Hyuka, the two of them moaning into each other’s mouths.

Uncrossing your legs, you stand up and grab a fistful of Soobin’s hair, yanking him up to look at you, a thin string of saliva connecting him and Hyuka’s mouths. You only smirk when he lets out a needy whine, eyes struggling to stay open through the onslaught of pleasure from behind. “I gave you an order, bunny. Why are you being so disobedient today, hmm? Do I need to teach you a lesson?”

His eyes shoot open at the implication of punishment, people-pleaser mode going into overdrive as he shakes his head wildly and pulls out of your grip to grab Hyuka’s shirt in his teeth again. He can’t stop his body from quaking, but he doesn’t let then deter him from frantically tugging at the piece of clothing, and with a little subtle help from Hyuka, he manages to get his shirt off.

You don’t know which part of the view is more enticing – the newly exposed skin of Hyuka’s softly defined torso, or Soobin’s hasty attempts to please you with such a humiliating task.

When he leans down to go for his waistband, his teeth scrape against the skin there as he tugs down both his pants and boxers at the same time. Hyuka tries to steady his heavy breathing with little avail as his hard cock is freed from its constraints, leaking precum onto his stomach. Soobin waits for further instruction instead of getting impatient this time, so you smile at him and pet his hair, fixing his slightly crooked bunny ears.

“That’s a good boy.” Grabbing the lube, you squeeze some onto Hyuka’s dick, using your hand to cover him in it, the boy hissing at the cold sensation and bucking his hips up into your fist. “Taehyun, slow down. Let Hyuka in too.”

Soobin shivers, obediently letting you position him as you like. You slip two lube-covered fingers into him alongside Taehyun’s cock, stretching him out as much as you can, then positioning him to sink down onto Hyuka.

All three of them groan at Hyuka’s cock sliding into him. Soobin can’t help but tremble at the feeling of being so full, clenching hard around them both and making Taehyun’s grip around his wrists white knuckled; Hyuka’s head falls back with a muffled whine, lip pulled between his teeth.

“Fuck that’s so hot,” Yeonjun grunts, quick pumps of his hand bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Beomgyu, feeling generous, leans over to take the tip of his cock in his mouth, moving his hands away, and Yeonjun shudders and grabs his hair, pushing him down more. “Fuuuuck, I’m gonna cum— Soobinnie, look at me. Look at what you do to me, being a slutty little bunny for us— oh god, I’m c— I’m cumming—!”

Soobin can’t tear his eyes away, swivelling his hips down needily as Yeonjun cums in Beomgyu’s mouth, who kept sucking and swallowing until he was pushing him away. Beomgyu abruptly crashes his lips to Yeonjun’s, sloppily making out and shoving his own cum back into his mouth, the two groaning at the obscenity of it all. They always liked putting on a show, even as the supposed audience, but you hardly had it in you to complain.

Yeonjun then pulls him into his lap, shifting around the way they were facing so they could still side-eye Soobin and the rest of you while he frantically strokes Beomgyu’s cock in his hand.

“Good, make sure you keep watching him,” you hum, running your nails across his back, “After all, he’s dressed up so pretty for us today, taking two cocks in his little hole like a good boy. Isn’t that right, bunny?”

Soobin nods, pushing himself further down, tears springing to his eyes at the stretch. “O-Oh my go-od…”

“You okay?” Hyuka makes out through gritted teeth, gently cupping Soobin’s face. “Need a moment?”

He nods slowly, and Taehyun releases his wrists to run a hand through his own hair, a thin layer of sweat from his efforts coating his forehead. You know he’s been edging himself this whole time from your commands, and that’s not something he does lightly – when it’s his scene, he’ll manhandle you however he wants and work towards his orgasm himself if he has to, even if it means pinning you down and riding you until he cums. The only way to edge him was to restrain him, or, as you’ve now discovered, rope him into helping your scene with one of the other boys. Ah, the joys of polycules.

“Take your time,” Taehyun murmurs lowly, softly massaging his ass and smirking at how the rip in his tights spread wider.

Everyone waits patiently for him, mean sides dulled down in making sure your favourite little bunny doesn’t get hurt, and soon enough, he starts moving on his own, mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut as he fucks himself back onto them.

“Good boy,” you encourage him, nodding at the other two to move. They both grab onto him, Hyuka pressing a kiss to his nose and Taehyun kissing down his back before rolling their hips into him.

Soobin stills, clutching tightly onto Hyuka’s shoulders, then lets out the most harmonious sound – a long, drawn-out moan so erotic that you know would have him beet red if he was reminded of it later. Grinning at that thought, you gesture for one of the boys on the couch to film, and Beomgyu is quick to oblige, slipping his phone out and pointing the camera at the boys on the table.

“Say hi to the camera, bunny,” Beomgyu teases, zooming in on Soobin’s face, then to where Taehyun and Hyuka’s cocks were disappearing into him.

“H-Haaah, hh- ohh please – please touch my cock,” Soobin cries out, blinking up at you with teary eyes, hot with humiliation, then back at the camera, then back at you. “Please, I’ll b-be good…!”

“Be careful what you wish for,” you chuckle darkly, pulling his dick free from the tight leotard and stroking it. His sigh of relief breaks off into a moan, doubling over Hyuka again, but this time he’s prepared to catch him. Hyuka holds him tight and in place as he and Taehyun work in tandem to make his toes curl and vision go fuzzy, and just as he does exactly that, you grin.

“A-Ahh I-I’m gonna cum—!”

“Stop.”

All three boys groan at your command, but listen anyway, a rush flooding through you at the power trip of having them so obedient for you. More tears well up in Soobin’s eyes, spilling down his cheeks - silently, because he wouldn’t dare complain.

Your smile is sickeningly sweet, combing your fingers through Soobin’s hair and fixing his headband again, straightening out the ears. “Good boys. Soobinnie cums only when I give him permission to, not a moment earlier. Got it?”

“P-Please let me cum,” Soobin begs, “Please, I need it so bad, please…”

“I want you to cum around my cock, since you were so kind as to pick it out for me. Or have you changed your mind? Satisfied now that you’re getting fucked by two cocks at once?”

Soobin lets out another broken moan, Beomgyu grinning knowing he caught this one on camera. “N-No, I still want you too, I just— I just really want to cum…!”

“Oh? That’s not what you were saying in the store, telling me to tone it down and now here you are, begging me for more. No bunny, you’re not allowed to cum until you make Hyuka and Taehyunnie cum first.”

That’s all it takes to get Soobin moving again, grinding his hips in circles onto the two of them, and with shaky exhales, they continue where they left off.

Taehyun is brutal, snapping his hips forward hard and fast, grip on his hips tight enough to leave bruises. Usually he would be meaner, wanting to push Soobin further, but after fucking his tight hole for this long, his own desire to cum overpowered that urge. Meanwhile Hyuka, who was trying his best to keep up but overwhelmed by Taehyun’s cock sliding so deliciously against his, digs his nails into Soobin’s back as he fucks him, leaving pretty red lines along his shoulder blades. He wouldn’t usually dare cum first unless he physically couldn’t help it, but knowing that Soobin couldn’t cum until he did had him even more eager.

Soobin is noisier than you’ve ever heard him, but he tries to muffle it by sucking and biting at Hyuka’s neck – you all know he loves the marks you leave behind – but you don’t stand for that. Curling the leash around your fist, you pull again, and the surprised gasp he makes lets you know that he almost forgot he had it on still.

“I want to hear you baby, nice and loud.”

He’s even less coherent after that, his cute, needy little noises filling the air, and the struggle in his eyes only makes it even sweeter; every time he side-eyes Beomgyu’s camera, he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed at how lewd he sounds, then catches himself, torn between his own pride and his desire to obey. The humiliation is so much stronger when you make him do it himself, you realise, rather than relying on you to do all the work – like when you make him say what he wants with his own words, or demand to hear every moan and whimper loud enough for the camera to pick up.

With a growl, Taehyun pulls Soobin out of Hyuka’s grip and flush against his chest, holding him by the hips and sinking his perfect little teeth into his neck. Soobin’s body tenses up, eyes rolling back into his head, and he must’ve clenched so tight as Hyuka and Taehyun both let out a strangled groan of delight.

“Please, please cum for me,” Soobin pants, leaning his head back on Taehyun’s shoulder, “I-I need it, please…”

“Keep begging and I’ll consider it,” he grunts in response, breath quickening as he felt himself slowly drawing closer and closer to his high, “You sound so pretty when you beg, Soobinnie.”

“P-Please!” Soobin is at his wits end, running out of words or coherent thoughts to keep going with. His frantic blubbering quickly becomes incomprehensible beyond cries of please, want you so bad, need to cum, and strings of curses, but the smirk on Taehyun’s face tells you that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

You yank on the cord again. “Look at me, bun.”

He can barely keep his eyes open, twitching and whimpering in Taehyun’s iron grip, but he tries his damn best, blinking through the tears. You reward him by grabbing his cock again and jerking it quickly, and he ends up somehow flinching away from your touch at the same time as leaning into it.

“T-Too much— ____ please I’m really gonna cum please—”

“Not before your boyfriends do,” you tut, clicking your tongue.

“A-Ah, Taehyun, Hyuka, I’m so, so, so close please, please, please—!”

“M-Me too,” Hyuka whines, and you can see the visible relief of Soobin’s face as he relaxes – as much as one can relax while being pounded by two people and getting his dick stroked all at once – and lets them use his body to get off as they see fit.

Moments later, Hyuka cums with a call of Soobin’s name, deep inside him, biting down hard on his own lip as Taehyun kept fucking his cum back into him. Soobin falls over the edge right after him, back arching and body shuddering, only for you to cruelly pull your hand away from him again, watching it twitch helplessly and spurt cum all over Hyuka’s stomach and chest.

“W-Why…?” He mumbles blearily, barely keeping himself upright after the intensity of his orgasm, looking so absolutely wreckedthat you almost wanted to have mercy on him.

Almost.

“What did I say, baby?”

“I-I—” His words fizzle and die out as Taehyun gave him a particularly harsh thrust from behind, wrapping a veiny hand around his neck over the collar and squeezing lightly. You don’t even bother telling him to back off your scene this time, not anymore; you find you quite like seeing the rest of your boyfriends use him as they please.

“I wasn’t done with you yet, Soobinnie,” Taehyun hums next to his ear. The tears that spring into his eyes at the realisation seem to do it for him, though, as with a few more snaps of his hips, he cums in his ass with a low groan. Beomgyu makes sure to lean forward to catch it all on film as Taehyun slowly pulls Soobin off him and Hyuka, watching both of their cum drip from his hole and land on Hyuka’s twitching cock beneath him.

“Don’t let any more of that cum fall out, bun,” you instruct, giggling as he tries his best to hold it in but he’s been fucked so brutally it keeps spilling out. “Yeonjun, be a darling and go get a plug for him, will you?”

Yeonjun is quick to peel Beomgyu off his lap and get up, rushing over to his room to get one, while you gently pat Soobin’s hair and brush it out of his face to kiss his forehead.

“How are we doing, bunny? Colour?”

Soobin is barely there, but he offers you a weak yet genuine smile. “…Green.”

“Good boy.” You reward him with a soft kiss to his lips, a small reminder that you still love him under the mean exterior, then pull away to gesture at the mess of Hyuka he made beneath him. “Look at the mess you’ve made… without permission too. You were just that desperate, hmm?”

“Make him lick it off him,” Beomgyu pipes up, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other still holding the camera. “I wanna see him with cum all over his mouth like a dirty little slut.”

You stroll over to sit next to Beomgyu on the couch, batting his hand away so you could do it yourself. He shudders slightly, fucking into your fist eagerly. “I like the way you think, Gyu. Go on then, bunny, don’t miss a drop.”

He doesn’t have anything left in him to protest or even process his embarrassment anymore, simply listening without question and leaning down to start licking his own cum off Hyuka’s skin like it was his job to do so.

“F-Fuck,” Hyuka hisses, abs tensing up at Soobin’s mouth on him, “That’s so… god, that’s so hot. You’re incredible, Soobin.”

“Don’t forget to clean me up too,” Taehyun cuts in, a hand on Soobin’s head guiding him towards his cock, “You’re doing so well for us.”

Soobin smiles through his blush, the praise affecting him almost as much as all the degradation did, dutifully sucking Taehyun to near overstimulation before finishing up the mess he left on Hyuka. Yeonjun returns moments later, plug in hand, using it to wipe up the cum dribbling down his thighs before securing it in his ass, a pretty purple jewel on the end.

“Please tell me I can use him next.”

He feels like a goddamn doll being talked about like this, right in front of him no less – but he loves it, smiling dreamily with cum coating his lips and tongue.

“You and Beomgyu can use his mouth while I have my way with him. Come on bun, you’re gonna want to be on a bed for this one.”

First, he proudly presents to you the cum he had gathered, sticking his tongue out and blinking up at you with those big doe eyes. Unable to resist, you lean down and lick it right off his tongue, connecting your lips in the sloppiest of kisses, moaning appreciatively into his pretty mouth. When you pull apart, a thin line of spit and cum hangs from each of your lips, and you can hear the shutter sound of Beomgyu pressing the screenshot button while he records.

“See? I knew you could be a good bunny for me.”

Your words of affirmation have him glowing, smiling happily as he gets to his feet – albeit a little wobbly and leaning on Taehyun for support – and trails after you to the bedroom, leash in hand still.

He gets on the bed without needing any prompting from you, obediently sitting on his knees with his hands in his lap. You carefully work him out of the playboy bunny leotard, but leaving the collar, the tights, and the bunny ears on.

“Awh,” Beomgyu comments half-heartedly, “I liked the little tail on him.”

“We’ll get a bunny tail plug for him one of these days,” you decide, “But for now, not much else will be fitting in there along with me.”

Soobin watches, brimming with curiosity, as you go straight for your toy drawer again, this time pulling out a surprisingly small, remote-controlled vibe, followed by skin-safe tape.

His breath catches in his throat once he puts two and two together, gulping as you attach it to the head of his dick then toss Yeonjun the remote. Yeonjun snickers, immediately turning it up all the way, and Soobin jolts, grabbing at the nearest surface for purchase – that surface being you – and digging his nails in.

“____, a-ah I’m— I need you so ba-ad,” he chokes out, unable to keep still under the vibrations on his already sensitive cockhead so soon after cumming. He looks like he’s about to cry again, but he looks so damn cutewith puffy eyes, glassy with tears, so you simply kiss his brow and gently push him back onto the bed.

“And you have me,” you hum simply, grabbing the lube and lathering your strap with it as the rest of your boyfriends settle themselves on the bed and on chairs next to the bed, Beomgyu abandoning his phone recording in favour of taking his clothes off and situating himself next to Soobin on the bed. He doesn’t ask, but he doesn’t need to; Soobin automatically reaches out to him, big hands wrapping around his cock, then Yeonjun’s.

Pulling out the plug, you make him suck it clean while you press the tip of your cock to his twitching hole, shivering at the combination of the cold sensation and the toy abusing his dick.

“Turn it down a bit, Yeonjun,” you tell him calmly, “As much as I love to see our baby bunny writhe for me, he needs to be able to take me first.”

“Fiiine,” Yeonjun reluctantly agrees, turning it off, and Soobin instantly relaxes, feeling like he can finally breathe again.

All up until you push the end of the massive toy into him, and his eyes fly open, then quickly roll back into his head as more of its length makes its way inside him.

“More,” he pants, aggressively jerking the two boys in his hands and leaning his hips toward you, “I can- I can t-take it, ooh fuck…”

You take your time, slowly and steadily pushing into him and stretching out his already gaping hole even wider, then still yourself so he can catch his breath. He gratefully inhales more air into his lungs until he relaxes, smiling hazily up at you. He’s on cloud fucking nine, and it’s one of your absolute favourite looks on him. “Ah, it’s so big…”

“Bunny, it’s not even halfway in yet.”

He swears he almost cums in that moment, hissing between gritted teeth, his cock twitching as it lies flat on his stomach. “Fuuuck… more, please.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a moment—”

“More, please.”

“Let’s not rush, bun,” you tut softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His hands quicken their pace around your boyfriends, brows furrowing as he clenches around what little of the strap you’ve given him. “Ngh… sorry… I just really want you to fuck me…!”

You brush off the way his words send heat flooding down south and pour more lube onto the toy before pushing in a little more, thrusting in and out lightly, thoroughly impressed at how much he was able to take. “Who knew we had such a greedy cockslut among us, hmm? You just love being stuffed to the absolute brim.”

“M-More.”

When you don’t move fast enough for him, he grabs at your hips and hooks his legs around yours, shoving himself all the way down onto the toy with a guttural moan, eyes squeezed shut and back arching off the bed.

“Careful, bun!” You chastise him, laughing breathlessly at his enthusiasm and gently massaging at his thighs, “You can get hurt like that.”

“S-Sorry,” he grunts, barely cracking open his eyes to meet yours with that beautifully dazed grin of his. “I can’t help it, it just… it feels so good.”

Shivers go down your spine at his low, husky confession, and after hours of teasing him, even you’ve reached your limit.

You want to completely ruin him.

Pulling hard on the leash with one hand and scraping your nails along his abdominal muscles with the other, you finally, finallystart fucking him. His head flies back into the pillows, a broken gasp leaving his throat as his whole body is wracked by the pleasure between his legs, and that’s when Yeonjun decides to switch the bullet on his dick back on again.

“F-Fuck— oh my god!” He nearly screams out your name, tears springing to his eyes once more. Yeonjun and Beomgyu guide his hands towards them, and Soobin attempts to be a good boy and get them off, but his pace is inconsistent and erratic from the force of you giving it to him. He doesn’t even try and bite back his sounds this time, way too far gone; he chants your name like a prayer, or a curse – it’s too much and not enough all at once, and any solid thoughts he had in his head are replaced with simply you.

You, towering over him and making him feel so small and helpless despite him being the tallest in the room, you, with a pussy but having a bigger dick than all of them, you, seeping under his skin and filling all his senses until he feels like he can’t breathe. He’ll gladly drown in you, he thinks, each shift of you inside him and stretching him out sending him further under.

“Oh fuck ____ n-not there, don’t— stop— ah!”

They’re empty words and you both know it – he doesn’t even know if he’s saying don’t and stop or don’t stop anymore – so you keep thrusting into him hard enough to make his body shake; even though he already couldn’t stop quivering at the overstimulation of his dick, thrashing around wildly on the bed and bending his bunny ears out of shape against the pillows.

“Where, here?” You tease, angling your hips to hit the same spot that had him seizing, mouth hanging open and crying out your name over and over. “What was that, you wanted me to… stop?”

You slow down to a standstill, and Soobin whines brokenly, pitifully pushing himself back onto you. “N-No, I didn’t— I didn’t mean—”

He’s crying again, with Yeonjun and Beomgyu jerking each other off again while fighting over the remote, turning it up and down repeatedly and not giving Soobin a chance to breathe.

“Aww,” Yeonjun coos, leaning down to kiss the tears off his cheeks, “Our cute little Soobinnie. What’s your colour?”

“Green, the g-greenest of greens— please, please keep going, I’ll be a good boy, I p-promise— ah-ah, fuck! T-Too much, too mu- a-ah!”

Beomgyu giggles, a hand wrapped around Soobin’s weeping cock and rubbing his thumb into the tip while the vibrator buzzed away still, overwhelming him so much it hurt – but he didn’t want it to stop. He can’t stop crying, sobbing and hiccupping in a way he thinks is unflattering, but the effect it has on the rest of you implies quite the opposite.

“I thought you wanted us to keep going. Now it’s too much?” Beomgyu points out his contradiction with faux confusion, laughing cruelly at how much Soobin struggles. It only serves to embarrass him even more, but it’s almost as if he can’t control his words; like they all come tumbling out before he can stop them.

“P-Please,” he whines again, broken and running out of things to say that wouldn’t dig him deeper into a hole. “Please!”

“What are you begging for, Soobinnie?” You press, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head; with a single nod to Yeonjun he knows what to do, digging through your drawers until he finds some pretty pink silk ties, getting to work tying Soobin’s wrists to the headboard while he frantically blinks away his tears and tries to get words out through his sobs.

“Y-You, please, w-want you— f-fuck I’m— o-oh my g-god, I’m gonna cum again—!”

“Again?” Yeonjun seems genuinely impressed, pushing you back to see Soobin’s cock jumping in Beomgyu’s grasp, only to spill cum all over himself with a shaky moan. He cums hard enough to get some all the way on his collarbones and chest, Yeonjun diving down to lick it up and circle his tongue around Soobin’s nipple, then graze his teeth against it.

“Fu-uuuck!”

You’ve definitely never heard Soobin so loud and so utterly wrecked,but it’s a beautiful sound. You decide to take that as a cue to start fucking the giant toy back into his ass, Taehyun and Hyuka’s cum from earlier spilling out onto the sheets and making them both groan from the sidelines. Soobin writhes in his restraints, but Yeonjun is a practiced rigger, so the knots don’t give, only serving to make the lean muscle in his arms flex and give everyone a brilliant view.

“Such pretty noises,” Yeonjun hums, “Can you make them with my cock stuffed in your mouth, hm?”

Soobin obediently opens his mouth, but Beomgyu grabs him by the hair and nudges him towards his cock instead.

“I sucked you off earlier, it’s my turn,” he growls, shoving his dick as far down Soobin’s throat as he lets him. “Fuuuck, so wet and warm…”

“Wow,” Yeonjun huffs at the audacity, but only ends up grabbing Beomgyu by the chin and crashing their lips together, heatedly making out in an angry way that was not unfamiliar to them both. Taking Beomgyu’s wrist that wasn’t occupied holding Soobin’s head down on his cock, he guided him to jack him off next to Soobin’s face, who kept moaning around Beomgyu enough to make him shiver.

“Look at you, bunny… all stretched out nice and wide for me, both your holes stuffed with cock… isn’t he pretty?” You turn to Taehyun and Hyuka, the latter of which was sitting in his lap, grinding on each other languidly with their eyes locked on the scene in front of them.

“S-So pretty,” Hyuka chokes out, the simple grinding getting him all worked up while the sensitivity from his earlier orgasm still lingered. “Ah, our Soobinnie… he’s taking you so w-well.”

Taehyun chuckles, pulling Hyuka’s hips against him and making him whine. “He’s a total mess for us. Look at him, cum in his ass, on his chest, in his mouth soon enough… and always begging for more. He’s our insatiable little bunny, isn’t he? He just loves it when we ruin him like this.”

Soobin is too caught up in it to act embarrassed now; the twinge of humiliation still makes his dick twitch, but he just nods dutifully, mouth still full of Beomgyu’s dick, accepting it with a twisted sense of pride.

Grabbing his long legs, you hook them over your shoulders and push them closer to his chest, grinning at the muffled cry from around Beomgyu, fucking him at a new angle, the impressively big toy only hitting even deeper. He puts up the peace sign where his wrists are tied, a sign familiar with all of you, so Beomgyu lets go of his hair and lets him take in greedy gasps of air, babbling something incomprehensible as he feels fuller than he ever thought he could.

“Feel it… s-so deep, ah!” He moans your name again, craning his neck to see where your hips met. You press a hand on his cum-covered stomach, where your cock was battering his prostate repeatedly, and the mangled cry he lets out is music to your ears.

“Gonna cum for me one more time, bun?” You ask, leaning down to kiss and lick and bite along his chest, wanting him not just to feel your touch on him the next morning, but also see it every time he looks in the mirror.

“C-Can’t, too much,” Soobin whimpers, his voice whiny and high-pitched and so damn cute you almost can’t stand it. “B-But I— I wanna be a g-good bunny for yoooou… ahh, ngh—!”

“You’re the best bunny for us,” you remind him gently, leaving a vaguely heart-shaped hickey right above his collarbone. “You sure you don’t have one more for us, mm? Come on, just one.”

He feels like his brain has liquified and spilled out his ears, nodding in a daze, drunk on you. He doesn’t even flinch when Yeonjun cums on his face, or when you bring your hand to his lips to clean his own essence off it, or when Beomgyu follows through not long after and adds his cum to the filthy mix of sweat and cum and spit on Soobin’s torso.

One of them turns up the vibrator strapped to his cock again, but Soobin’s voice has grown hoarse, instead just letting out hiccup-y sobs and whines as his climax creeps up on him for the fourth time that night. At this point, his own name sounds more foreign to him than yours, and with one final, violent shudder and noisy whimper, his high seizes him again.

His dick twitches, weakly leaking the little cum he had left down the shaft, and Yeonjun turns off the vibrator as you slow down and start pulling out, Soobin barely able to keep his eyes open.

Covered in cum, hickeys, tears, and on a leash still, bunny ears crooked from all his thrashing and tights ripped and stained, he looks absolutely glorious in the most sinful of ways; so much so you decide to grab the nearest phone and take a few photos while he caught his breath, panting like he just ran a marathon.

“Don’t… Don’t you wanna get off, too?”

Those are the first words Soobin manages to get out after all that huffing and puffing. You smile, softly this time – without the dark undertone to it that it had for most of the day. “You’re on the brink of consciousness right now, bunny. It’s okay. One of the others can take care of me, okay?”

He nods brainlessly, so deep in subspace that he’s inclined to agree with anything you say. You kiss him tenderly, then look around at the others. “Hyuka, go get a bath running – as pretty as he looks like this, it won’t be as fun if it dries. Taehyun, you’ll be able to carry him there, right? I don’t think he’ll be able to walk well. And maybe get to changing these sheets after. Yeonjun, grab some water for him and maybe something to eat – whether you order takeout or cook or make instant ramen, up to you. Beomgyu—”

“I’ll take care of you,” he interrupts as the others start on the tasks you’ve assigned them.

“Wh—"

He doesn’t give you any room to protest, crawling over to you and kissing you slowly, working the straps of your harness off and setting it aside. He’s a stupidly good kisser, effectively taking your breath away and making you melt into his touch.

“What happened to not taking over other people’s scenes, Gyu?” You exhale breathlessly once you pull apart, resting your foreheads together. He chuckles, pecking your lips affectionately. The gesture is so intimate and gentle it almost catches you off guard – you lean in for more, but he pulls back with a little grin to tease you just that little bit more.

“Don’t be bratty, we both know your scene is over. You’re all wound up from all that, let me make you feel good while they take care of Soobin, okay?”

You don’t have anything clever to say to that, relaxing as you step down and relinquish your control to him. He seems a lot calmer as well, no longer trying to be mean or a tease, reverently kissing down your body and splaying you out on the bed once Taehyun takes Soobin away.

I’m plenty wet already, you can hurry up now, you want to say, but the words die on your tongue as Beomgyu continues worshipping your body like it’s a divine gift. It’s so tender, so nice, so you can’t complain, even when you’re aching for him, your body begging for its release.

Once he leaves enough love bites on your skin to satisfy him, he brings his face in front of your cunt and waits no longer, diving right in. He licks up every drop of you he can get on his tongue, moaning into you appreciatively and sucking at your clit hard enough to make your thighs clamp around his head on instinct. His long hair is perfect for pulling, so you do exactly that, tangling your hand in it and tugging him impossibly closer, earning you a baritone growl from the back of his throat that has you trembling.

“B-Beomgyu—"

Your breath quickly leaves your lungs when he adds his fingers as well, pushing and curling in all the right places; it’s almost embarrassing how well he knows you by now, playing your body like a finely tuned instrument, your gasps of his name his favourite song.

You’re so keyed up from teasing Soobin all day that your high approaches you fast enough to catch you off guard, suddenly hitting you all at once and flooding through your entire body; Beomgyu coaxes you through it, letting you grind on his tongue and getting his face covered in your wetness, continuing until you were physically pushing him away and cringing at the overstimulation.

“Can’t handle what you dish out, hmm?” Beomgyu can’t help but comment cockily, laughing at your unamused glare at him. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll be nice. Do you want to cum again? I could do this all day, you know.”

“I know you can… alright, one more time. A-Ah—!”

By the time Beomgyu is done with you, Soobin is all washed up and being carried and tucked into bed, with the promise of being woken up when dinner arrives. In the bathroom, Hyuka is already running a new bath with clean water for you, beaming invitingly.

“Wanna wash up with me?”

You nod gratefully, climbing into the tub with him and letting it fill up slowly, the warm water doing wonders to soothe your tired muscles. You express your gratitude by helping him scrub down, and he repays the favour in kind, softly humming a serene tune.

“You know, just because you were in charge n’ all doesn’t mean you can’t get aftercare too,” Hyuka reminds you, kissing your cheek.

Yeonjun pokes his head in the doorway at that, giving you that cutely scrunched up grin he always does. “Did someone say a dominant who needs aftercare?”

“Mhm…”

He takes that as his cue to come inside, shedding his remaining articles of clothing and joining you and Hyuka in the tub, the water overflowing and getting all over the bathroom floor. Your legs are all cramped, especially their tall and gangly frames, but none of you seem to care. Yeonjun pulls your back to his chest, reverently kissing along your shoulder and idly running his hands across you and Hyuka’s bodies, who tenderly washes you and Yeonjun’s hair. It’s nice, you think. Real nice. The kind of nice that reminds you of everything good in the world.

“You two look like cats,” Hyuka giggles, scratching softly at your scalps as he massages the shampoo through it and gazing at you ever so fondly as the two of you deflate into smiley idiots under his affectionate touch. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute,” you mumble back as if it was some kind of insult, but that only serves to make him giggle even more.

Yeonjun catches onto the giggles too, but quickly collects himself before he gets carried away. “You’re both cuties. Let me wash your hair too, Hyuka.”

Caught between them, you don’t mind lazily worshipping Hyuka’s body with your mouth while Yeonjun leans over you to wash his hair, happy to be caught between the two bodies of warmth and feeling safe and loved caged between them.

“Maybe next time, you should be our pet, ____,” Yeonjun suggests cheekily, nipping at your ear. “Tell me that doesn’t sound appealing, eh? Having all of us have our turns with you?”

“Mm, that does sound nice,” you murmur, almost salivating at the thought. As much as you like bossing them around, the thought of swapping places with Soobin had you all sorts of curious. “You’d all take care of me?”

“We’re taking care of you right now, aren’t we?” Hyuka chimes in, gently massaging the tension from your shoulders. “Although I think the others will be keen on ruining you too.”

“I do like it when you can take as much as you dish out,” Yeonjun comments, rinsing your hair and laughing at you blubbering at the water. It’s a little embarrassing, but with the way Yeonjun looks down at you and smiles, you think you’re starting to see why Soobin likes it so much. “And I know you can take that and more. Right?”

“Is that a challenge?” You scoff, shifting around to face him and give him a playful smirk, to which he just bops you on the nose.

“There’s that spark. I see you’ve come back to Earth now! Come on, let’s get out before we go all pruny.”

Drying each other is full of just as many giggles and kisses as bathing each other was, and Yeonjun ends up tucking you and Hyuka into bed with Soobin as he waits on the takeout, you and Hyuka curling around Soobin from either side and peppering him with kisses.

“You did so well for us today, Soobinnie, you were such a good bunny,” you hum softly, his eyes fluttering as he struggles to keep himself awake. “Don’t worry. You can nap now until the food gets here.”

Soobin nods drowsily, snuggling closer and tucking you under his chin, Hyuka clinging to his back.

“I love you,” he mumbles faintly against the crown of your head. “All of you.”

You kiss his sternum and hear Hyuka do the same to the back of his neck before you both reply in unison,

“We love you too.”

[ladyperceval]

When they lose Part 1

warning: smuttish things...

Part 2

These are for my bestie @shes-unwell-babe ,love keep your head high because you are amazing and if people can’t see that well then they don’t deserve to know how amazing and gorgeous you are! Thanks for always being there for me love🥺💕

Lando Norris:

Lando is a sore loser, there is no doubt about it. You witnessed this first-hand. On a request from his twitch fans, Lando agreed to do a marathon with you to help raise money for the animal rescue in your small town. It started off friendly and adorable, with Lando teaching you how to play fall guys. You are sitting in his lap as he guides your hands through the controls. It took a few rounds and then you were happy to play by yourself. You were getting better towards the end and before you knew it you and Lando were facing off in the final. You won by the smallest of margins, but it was enough for Lando to have a rage moment. He was too focused on losing to even notice how mean his comments were as he stormed off out of the room. You slowly turned to the stream, said thank you on behalf of Lando and yourself before turning the stream off. Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes because of the way Lando spoke to you. You had decided to sleep in the guest room that evening, not wanting to face him. You were tossing and turning in bed when you heard him come in. He slowly crawled into be next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he whispered how sorry he was as he kissed your neck. His hand slowly inching int your panties as his hand rubs slow circles on your clit. His teeth softly grazing your neck, as his hand increases. He slowly inserts a finger into you, softly stretching you out as his thumb comes down to graze your clit. You moan when he enters a second finger. His speed increases when he hears your enjoyment and he starts to thrust his fingers into you faster, making you reach your high as you grab his hair and gently pull at it. You fall asleep in each other’s arms, knowing that he really didn't mean what he said.

Mick Schumacher:

Mick enjoyed winning and he was excellent at everything so when you suggested to play a round of tennis, Mick though it would be an easy win. He didn’t expect you to destroy him in nearly every game. His shock showed, he knew you used to play during your school days, but he never knew you were this good and it caused him to be a bit sour. He didn’t speak to you the whole ride home, nor when you made his favourite for supper or when you decided to walk around in nothing but his shirt. You knew Mick wasn't taking it out on you. He was just upset that he overlooked a quality about you. He just wanted to know everything about his girl and the fact that he missed this one, upset him. So, while he was sitting on the couch lost in his thoughts you did the only thing you could think of. You got onto your knees in front of him, pulled down his shorts and took his length out of his boxers. His head shot up from where it was hanging over the couch, his blue eyes locked with yours as you licked a stripe up the length of his cock. His eyes rolled back at the sensation as his hand moved into your hair, he was quick to guide your mouth to the tip and let you take his length. He was soft at first, allowing you to adjust to his length and thickness, letting you go at your own pace and please him. But when you moaned around him, and he noticed your hand between your legs he lost it. he started to fuck your mouth as the picture of you getting off because of his length was enough to drive him crazy. He was reaching his high quickly and was hoping you would finish soon because he wanted to take you in the shower after this. As he reached his high, you swallowed all of his cum, before moving to sit on his thigh as you rode it to reach your orgasm.

Pierre Gasly:

Pierre was invited by PSG for a fun day where he gets to meet the team and do some games and training exercises for both alpha Tauri and PSG's YouTube pages. You were excited for him, but when PSG had sent you a private message asking you to come down on the same day, you didn't hesitate to go for it. Thinking you would just be there for support. You arrived a few hours before Pierre and the club had gifted you a custom pair of football cleats as well as a top with "Mrs. Gasly" and 10 on the back, you immediately put them both on as you followed Gianluigi Donnarumma out to the field, excited to see what awaits you. Gianluigi explained that it was a simple freekick game, the player that hits the most targets win, and they know about the love for soccer in your family, so they wanted you to go up against Pierre and Lionel Messi. You knew Lionel would win, so you just wanted to try and do better than Pierre. You were busy passing the ball around with Gianluigi when Pierre entered with Messi. "Ma Cherie, why are you here?" he asked as he placed a kiss on your cheek. "I was asked to come down and play a few games with you." you replied, turning around so he could see the custom shirt and wiggling your foot so he could see the boots.He smirked, knowing he would beat you in this. He didn't expect you to hit nearly all the targets, you had missed the last two, whereas he has missed the last 4, Messi didn't miss any but that was expected. You could see the heat in Pierre’s eyes, he was upset that you had won. He was trying to act like it didn't bother him, but you could see by the way he is gripping the steering wheel that he is upset. Pierre has just parked the car and you were already climbing over the centre console, you had changed after the game, opting for a shower and putting on Pierre’s favourite dress. He grabbed your ass as you sat on his lap. Your lips grazing his neck, as you unbuckle his belt and grab his length out of his pants. You move your panties to the side before slowly sinking onto his length. You kiss him before he can speak and you start to bounce on him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you circle your hips, his hands move to your waist as he helps you keep the high pace. His thrusts up to meet your bouncing movements and it’s enough to cause you both to finish in the car. With heavy breathes you kiss along his neck before asking him if he wants to take you on the bonnet of the car.

Me:

[ticklish-touch]

Five Nights At Sunny’s Ch4: Bedtime Story

Nate gets to see Sun and Moon at their day jobs... And finally learns a bit about their past. (This chapter is much less tk-centric than the last. Time for a tiny bit of sads c’:  )

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four (You are here!) Chapter Five

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         It took a bit of convincing, but Nate was able to get permission to go to the daycare during the day, as the jester duo had requested. One of the other staff members was required to escort him there, and he was allowed to stay for two hours.        Inside, there were many rambunctious children, from toddlers to preteens; screaming, laughing, running about and playing in the different play structures. And towering above them, the sunny jester could be seen monitoring all of them.

         He eventually spotted Nate, gasping and waving frantically in his direction. "NOOT-NOOT!!" He pranced over to the brunette, some of the kids following him out of curiosity. "Guys!! Come here, c'mere!! This is my friend Nate that I was telling you all about!" More kids gathered, some shyly waving up at Nate, others looking disinterested. "Everyone, say hi to mister Nate!"           Nate was met with a chorus of kids saying hi, and couldn’t help but feel himself smile. "Well hey there, everyone!”         “Noot-Noot gets to stay up with me and Moony aaalll night!!” Sunny explained. “He has a SUPER important job of helping me watch over the Daycare at night and make sure all the locks are secure and the important papers are done! He even gets to play video games with me!”         “Wow, really??” One of the kids excitedly piped in.        “I wanna be a security guard when I grow up!”          Sunny nodded fast. “I totally kick his butt in DDR, though~” he gave Nate finger-guns.           Nate rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, well, I totally mop the floor with him in Mario Kart.”          “Nuh-UH!!” Sunny folded his arms in a huff.         “Can Nate dance wif us?” One small child looked up to Sun expectantly.         “Yeah, he should play with us!!”         “Oh- Sorry, kids, but I’m not allowed,” Nate gave them a polite smile. “I’m supposed to go sit with my coworkers.”         Sunny's attention was quickly drawn back to some of the kids that had started wandering off, waving at Nate again before following a group of them over to the TV, where one of the employees was now setting up some Wii games. "OkaygottagoseeyoutonightBYE!"

       After he left, the other staff gestured for Nate to join them over at the security desk, where they could keep an eye on the whole area from their seats and from the surveillance monitors.        The bot seemed right at home here. It was moving to see how wonderful he was with the kids. He played games of tag, he put on improv skits and LARPed with them, he chased them playfully int he ballpit, he built block towers and had gentle plushie fights. He hardly even seemed to mind some of the smallest children hanging off of his arms or clinging to his poofy pants. He tried to climb into the jungle gym with them at times, but he wasn’t quite as agile inside the structures as his other half. ...Despite having literally the same body.

       Not all of the kids warmed up to him, though; A decent handful kept him at a wide berth, stepping away if he attempted to approach them with toys or crafts. The slump in his body language told Nate that he was saddened by their reactions, but he didn't let it deter him from keeping up his cheery demeanor.         Nate noticed, too, that he could use sign language. He signed back and forth with a couple of the kids, and showed a couple curious ones how to do certain signs in order to communicate with their peers.

       It wasn’t all just playtime with no limits, though. Sunny watched the kids like a hawk, never hesitating to gently scold them if they misbehaved or risked getting into danger.

         “Please don’t climb up there, children! You could get hurt!!”           “No no no!! Throwing things at other people is not nice!”           “RICHIE!!” He gasped. “That is a BIG no-no word!! You’re goin’ to time out!”           Most of the kids were cooperative, no doubt because having such a boisterous, slightly uncanny robot looming over them was a bit intimidating.

         “Man, how is he not a nervous wreck dealing with this all day?” Nate questioned his coworkers.          “I mean, he is kinda neurotic,” one of them shrugged. “But he says he likes the energy and commotion. I think he understands better than some adults that kids just aren’t fully developed yet and need a lot of patience.”          “He also doesn’t process stress the same way that people do. At least, that’s what the higher-ups told us. I think he’s still relieved to get charging breaks.”

         It seemed true; since how, right after reprimanding a child, he would bounce right back to his regular manic, happy-go-lucky self. The only time he showed genuine stress was when a sister and her big brother took a running charge at a tower of the squeaky barrels, both kicking them over at the same time.          He shrieked and ran over, frantically restacking them, before scolding them. "P-Please don't do that, children!! It's very important that these stay upright!! They, uhh- have important radios in them that signal the other staff around the Pizzaplex and let your parents know that you're okay! They can't work right if they're knocked down!"          Thankfully, the siblings seemed to believe him, and didn't attempt it again. ...Or maybe they were just a bit too unnerved by him to want to get on his bad side. It was hard to say.          "So uh...Why does he do that?" Nate questioned one of the other employees.          They shrugged. "No-one knows. We think it's a fault in his 'clean-up' mode. He doesn't really care about being messy during the day, but he's programmed to make sure everything's tidy after the daycare's closed. For some reason it's just those barrels that he wants to be perfect at all times."          The other security guard nodded. "Yeah, sometimes we gotta put the towers way up high where no kids can get to them. We tried getting rid of 'em completely, but he begged us not to. We've actually had the chance to educate some of the young ones about obsessive-compulsive and other similar disorders that way."

         Before long, jester’s battery had soon been depleted. In the middle of a round of Red Rover, his body suddenly slumped and his voice slowed down. “Red Rover, Red Roooooo-o-o-o....”          Some kids burst into laughter. But Sunny just went along with it. “S-S-Send Haaaaaaa-- right overrrrr-r-r....” His arms turned into limp noodle in two other kids’ grip.        The kids laughed again and the two holding his hand on either side of him started trying to pull him over to his charging station. “Sunnyyy, go charge, go charge!!”        “Oookkaayyy-y-y-y,” Sunny whined. “Behaaaave yours-s-selvesss!”

            As Sunny took some time to get a quick recharge, one of the staff members took a turn looking after everyone. And as the hour drew to an end, the kids were starting to slow down, tuckered out from playing all afternoon. Sunny took this as his cue to rally everybody up with a loud whistle and wave, and he led the way with the Clean-Up song. He made sure everyone did their part in cleaning up their messes, getting a little particular in making sure all the crayons were put away in the right holders and having chairs lined up with the eges of the padded floor tiles.          “I had SO much fun with you all today!” He projected out to the daycare. “But now it’s time for the sun to set, and the Moon and stars to come out~! If you have any arts and crafts that you want us to hold for you, bring ‘em to the security desk then come right back here, please!”           A good handful of children went over to the desk, occasionally waving up at Nate and the other security guards, putting their art in one of two piles: Take-home art, and art they wanted Sunny or the daycare to keep. After they went back over to Sunny and sat around him in a big circle, the jester waved over at the staff and gave them a thumbs-up.

           Though, once the lights were turned off, the robot gasped and quickly covered his eyes, letting out the smallest whine.            When Moon emerged, his demeanor was...completely different. He remained standing upright, instead of hunching over like a cave goblin. He slowly slid his hands down to reveal that his eyes weren’t vivid red, but a soft yellow.          “Poor Sunny... Still afraid of the dark...” he chuckled softly. His voice was different too. It was still deeper than Sun’s, and gravelly, but not nearly as harsh or sinister. It almost had an ASMR quality. “But the dark isn’t something that you need to fear, children... Nighttime brings serenity, sweet dreams, a sense of wonder as you peer up at the vast starry sky...” He gestured toward the ‘stars’ on the ceiling with a theatrical flourish of his arms. “Doesn’t that sound nice? Come, now, let’s get you all to bed,” he gestured toward the area with cots and sleeping bags.            Some of the children started heading there without much hesitation, yawning and rubbing their eyes, getting settled in. A good majority of them, though, whined in protest.          “Noooo, we don’t wannaaaa!”          “I wanna stay up ALL night!!”          “We want Sunny baaack!!”          “I don’t want to hear it,” Moon huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “Little starlights like you need more sleep than the grown-ups. Especially after romping around with Sunspot all day. If you waaant, we can make a game out of it," He chuckled playfully. "I'm a master of hide-and-seek~"          "Yeah, you don't say," Nate muttered under his breath.

         For the next half hour or so, Nate watched him wrangle up the other kids. He chased them, scooped them up and gave them quick playful tickles before tossing them - gently - into the area full of cots and sleeping bags. He summoned the overhead rope to soar around the daycare, performing like a ballet dancer in the air, much to the wonder and delight of some of the youngest children. He humored a couple of them that had toy flashlights, making shadow puppets on the walls, telling them that if they went to sleep, they would get to see their favorite critters and imaginary friends in their dreams.

         For the ones that were more insistent on misbehaving and trying to escape, though, he became more persistent, starting to spider his way through and around the jungle gym. He let out his familiar gremlin-ish snickering.          "Naughty naughty children, you should know you can't hide from the moon~!"          "It's past your bedtime!"          “Don’t make me put you in time-out!!”

         The kids in the jungle gym would scream and attempt to flee faster, followed by a laugh of joy; most of them weren't truly afraid of him; they were having fun playfully getting on the jester's nerves.          As with Sun, there were a few of them that were genuinely unnerved by his proximity. But he disn't instigate, or try to worsen their fear; he just took a gentle approach, bribing them with his Moondrop candies with crescent-moon wrappers.

           At one point, he stopped dead in his tracks during one of his chases, zipping over to the security desk, landing on the edge with a THUD.             “WAH--!” Nate and the other guards jumped back.             “What time is it?” Moon asked casually.             “Jeez, can’t you ask normally??” One of them gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s 6pm.”

           “Then it’s time for Tyson’s medication,” he held out his hand.            One of the staff opened a desk drawer and took out a small handful of Moondrop candies; these ones, however, had full-moon wrappers. “You can see in the dark, you could’ve just looked over at the clock yourself!” They grumbled.            Moon gave a mischievous snicker. “Juuust double-checking~” He took the candies, leaping into the air with his pulley rope, scanning the play area until he found the little boy named Tyson.            Just in time, too. He had just thrown himself down onto the floor, screaming, kicking, throwing a fit and attempting to lash out at any other kids that came close by.             “Good heavens...” Moon knelt down by him, attempting to reach a hand out to pat him on the shoulder, unfazed by the small boy reflexively reaching out to kick him in the arm. When the boy realized what he’d done, he froze like a deer in headlights. “So naughty... You should be put in time-out for that behavior,” he growled sternly. “But... I know you can’t really help it. You aren’t choosing to misbehave.” He held out one of the full-moon candies. “If I give you a little drop of moonlight for your troubles, will you settle down and go to bed?”

           Tyson grabbed the candy and popped it in his mouth without a word. The sedative took hold quickly.          Moon gently patted his hair. "There we go. See? Nice and calm now."            There were a couple other children he gave this medicated candy to: A young girl diagnosed with anxiety, and a preteen insomniac. After they grew drowsy, he carried them over to their beds.

          Nate watched him through the monitors and from across the room. "He's... wonderful with them," He commented, a little dumbfounded.          "Surprising, isn't it? He's a totally different person...robot...thing during the day."          "Wasn't like that for a while though," The other chimed in. To which they were quickly elbow-jabbed. "What?? It's been a year, we should be allowed to talk about it."           Nate's attention was immediately laser-focused on his two co-workers. He'd been trying for three nights straight to get this bot to fess up; he didn't think to just ask the other staff!          The other saw Nate staring expectantly, and sighed. "Alright, just don't bring this up to anyone else, got it?

         "For almost a full month, Moon's programming was a little... faulty. That intense Security mode of his wouldn't turn off even during the day. He wouldn't like...Tickle the shit out of the kids or anything, he only saved that for the adults."          "Clearly that never went away," the other employee scoffed.         "Tell me about it..." Nate blushed a little. But he listened closely.          "He still scared the hell out of most of the kids, started getting way too rough with 'em, ended up getting complaints and lawsuit threats. Sun started doing everything to make sure he wouldn't switch into Moon anymore, but would have a nervous breakdown whenever the higher-ups talked about taking out Moon's software completely. And the kids liked Sunny too much to totally scrap him. But they ended up shutting the daycare down completely during that month while they tried to figure out what to do from there."          "The other bots were acting weird around the same time, weren't they?"          "Yeah. All of them were getting more and more aggressive to the staff and customers. The smart thing would've been to scrap every one of 'em. Or at least get into their metal brains and re-wire shit in there."          "No-one knows if it was a glitch in the system. Some staff here think they were all hacked somehow. Robot uprising; It's happening, man, I'm tellin' you."          The two employees laughed among themselves. "Yeah, and then it just... Stopped. Moon went back to normal right after one of the newer security guards quit. Sun became real clingy to night staff and made them promise they wouldn't shut the down daycare again. The first model of our Freddy went missing around that time too, and the other bots were smashed to bits. Just all seems like an awfully weird coincidence. I'm surprised the place is still around at all with how much money they had to shell out for new STAFF bots and parts."

         Nate felt a pang of sympathy overcome him as he listened to their explanation. No wonder the poor jesters had a few screws loose, dealing with the aftermath of something that was totally out of their control...

         Moon eventually overheard what they were talking about, his eyes flashing red for just a moment, out of view of the cameras. Had he not been busy trying to get the children into their beds, he would’ve zipped over to the desk and promptly shoved a medicated Moondrop down their throats. But...he mulled over what Nate had said to him the previous night. Perhaps he had the right to know.          After they finished their recap, the robot looked in their direction, and beckoned toward Nate. The young man quietly headed over to him, and Moon gestured for him to take a seat next to him.            "All right, children, it's time for your bedtime story."           His body started to emanate a strange, low buzzing, like a radio on the wrong station. Which, in turn, caused the audio feed to cut out on the security cameras, only giving off an eerie low garbled noise.          "Ah, shit, not again," One guard started fiddling with the audio settings. "We really gotta get this fixed."          "Ah well, it's just storytime. Probably gonna read "Goodnight, Moon" to them for the hundredth time," they chuckled among themselves.          "Nate's over there with them, he'll keep an eye out. Can't believe he's ballsy enough to sit right next to that thing."

         Moon glanced over at Nate, as if making sure he had his attention, before turning back to the kids. "I have a new story to tell you tonight. I call it, A Tale of Two Kitties."          "Where's your book?" One child piped up curiously.          Moon shook his head. "This isn't a story that you can find in a book. It's one that I've carried in my...imagination for a long time now.

         "Once upon a time, there were two kitties living on a farmhouse: Yellow and Blue. Yellow was friendly, cheery, energetic, easily amused. Blue was calm, rational, a bit irritable, but insightful. They were like peas in a pod; two halves of the same whole. They had their differences, of course, but they got along like brothers.          "The farmers gave them a job to look after a pen of little baby chicks, whose parents were so busy during the day that they could not take care of them. Yellow was to keep them entertained all day; playing tag, frolicking in the grass. Blue was to corral them together at night, make sure they were going to bed on time."

         "Kind of like you?" One child spoke up.          "Yes...Kind of like me," Moon chuckled. "Over time... Blue became jealous of Yellow. He grew angry that he wasn't allowed to play games with the chicks all night; that it was his job to ruin their fun. He grew sad that the other farmers and farm animals didn't like him nearly as much as they liked Yellow. And that anger would get the better of him, because he chose not to talk about it. He didn't want to ruin his friendship with Yellow... But by keeping it to himself, he set himself up to be taken advantage of.

         "You see; A spiteful little rabbit was watching them play with the chicks. This rabbit was working for a greedy, hungry coyote, who wanted the chicks all to himself. And not just the chicks; He wanted the ducklings, the piglets, the calves... All the youngest animals that would be an easy meal to him. He told the rabbit that if she didn't obey him, he would eat her too.          "So, she started going to Yellow and Blue late at night. She would whisper evil things to them, tell them... "You know, you could easily eat up all those chicks yourself..." His voice had shifted to the menacing rasp that Nate had grown accustomed to, his eyes flashing red. "They are small, and weak, and they trust you. You could take one little swipe at them and be done with it. Give them to me, and they’ll be out of your hair for good."

         The kids gasped and cowered into their blankets. Moon's voice and eyes returned back to normal. "She could not convince Yellow. He was too kind, and too optimistic, and kept telling her to go away. However... Blue began to take her whispers to heart. 'These stupid little chicks are the reason I'm unhappy in the first place,' he would tell himself. 'If they weren't around, I could do whatever I wanted. I could play games with Yellow, I could play pranks on the farmers and other animals all I want.' It was like her voice was stuck in his head, even when he tried to fight it off...

         "But it was too late. At night, whenever Yellow and all the farmers had gone to bed, Blue began to snatch up the chicks, giving them to the bunny in secret."          Some of the little kids gasped. "No!!"          "The farmers and other animals began to notice the change in Blue's personality. He became mean, sneaky, prone to lashing out. Yellow found out what Blue was doing, but never told anyone. He wanted to believe he could convince Blue to stop; and he didn't want the farmers to take away his best friend. The other farm animals had started to avoid Yellow, simply because he was friends with Blue. Blue and Yellow were not allowed back into the barn. And Yellow... Was too afraid to go near Blue anymore."          "I-I don't like this story..." One little girl piped up.          "Neither do I..." Moon mumbled. "But don't fret, little one. For you see... One night, one little chick named Gregory took a stand. This chick was a rule-breaker through and through, but he was very brave, and very clever. He knew there was something going on.

         "Gregory ran all the way across the other side of the pen, determined to get to the farmhouse. He escaped Blue's swiping claws and gnashing teeth. He made Yellow so angry that he kicked him out...If only to keep him safe from Blue. And soon, he befriended the biggest, toughest, wisest bull in the barn named Freddy."          "Freddy!!"          "Our Freddy??" A child asked in disbelief.          "Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously," he quickly spouted, as if reading off a rehearsed disclaimer. "Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

         "Together, they found the mean little rabbit, and promised her that they could save her from the coyote if she stopped telling Blue to do such terrible things. With her and Freddy's help, they found the evil coyote, and chased him away from the farmhouse for good."          The kids silently cheered and clapped among themselves.          "After the coyote was gone, people started to warm up to Yellow again. Yellow started talking to Blue again. Blue had done some... terrible things, so it was going to take time for Yellow and the rest of the farm to trust him again. Blue understood that it was not the chicks' fault; it never was. He wanted to pin all the blame on the rabbit... But he knew, deep down, that it was his responsibility to make up for his actions."

         He slowly stood up, once again giving that theatrical flourish. "My lesson to you, children: There is no shame in admitting that you're hurting. If you are angry, jealous, or sad, you'll be surprised how much it helps to talk it out with a friend, or a grown-up. Don't keep those feelings bottled up, or you could do something you'll regret. There will always be someone out there who cares about you. Even if you may not realize it."

         The lecture had succeeded in making most of the kids fall asleep. He went around, making sure the children were all tucked in, giving them gentle pats on the head. And, for those that were still shuffling around to get comfortable, he began to softly sing a lullaby.

"Hush now, sleep, all you little ones, Rush now, into the middle of dreamland... Singing and laughter will rise..."

          Nate felt his jaw drop. The bot’s breathy, melodic singing was a far cry different than Sunny’s.         ....Also was that the freaking “Nowhere King”??

"The dreams you seek, follow the Lunar King When his kingdom comes, freedom is nigh...

"Quiet, crawl to the in-between Silent, soft, hopeful feeling Of joyous wonder that reaches the skies...

You will bring joy to the Lunar King When he sees the fear leaving your eyes..."

        After his song, he headed over to sit one of the nearby tables, observing his handiwork.        "You have an awesome singing voice," Nate commented, sitting across from him.        "Thanks. ...I'd never be able to get away with singing the real version of that song," he chuckled darkly. "They already denied me permission to read Brothers Grimm fairy tales."         Nate rolled his eyes and shook his head playfully; then, lowered his voice. "That story you told... It's true, isn't it?"

         Moon slowly nodded, avoiding eye contact. "I took liberties with the ending... I don't actually know what happened to... her. All I know is that, after she, Gregory, and the first Freddy disappeared, things have been better. Children have stopped going missing. People are warming up to me and Sunspot again."          "Oh, we'll that's good!"          "Yes...But Sunny... is still afraid of me. Of what I could become again. I can feel it." He grumbled to himself, looking down at his hand as he flexed it open and closed in a claw-like motion. "I just become so... Frustrated. like I'm hunting for a threat that isn't there anymore... Having to stay on high alert at all costs... Seeing that damn rabbit's face in the back of my mind..." He sighed. "I make up for it by trying to live that same burst of excitement and energy that my other half gets to feel on the daily. Besides... It's the least they deserve," he glared over in the direction of the three security guards. "If the bosses want to insist on making me play the bad guy, then I'll be the bad guy, and play my games however I please~" He chuckled.           Nate reached out to touch his hand gently, unsure of how else to console him.          He, in return, softly closed his large hand around the brunette’s. "I did think that we were better off without any security guards slinking about at night. But...perhaps that isn't the solution either. Sunspot gets... Lonely. Restless. Even with my company. I thought I was protecting him and the little ones. Protecting us. But... Now I realize I've just been isolating us more."

         Nate put his other hand on top. "Well...Thank you for trusting me,” he smiled.            “Eugh... No need to get all sappy about it,” he huffed, eventually pulling his hand away. “I’m still going to make sure you go to sleep at night, you irritating little bedbug~” He narrowed his gaze, his eyes flashing red and his fingers wiggling at him.             Nate gasped and barely held back a yelp. “Y-Yeah?? Well this bedbug will bite back,” he stuck out his tongue.            One of the employees immediately took notice of that small flash of red on the security cameras, coming over to both of them. “Hey, Nate, it’s time to go. I dunno what it is about you, but this one misbehaves more around you,” they shone the flashlight at Moon. “So, better save it for your night shift before he breaks something else.”            Moon let out a hiss and an angry whisper. “Put that light out, you’ll wake the children!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~            “NATEYYYY!!!”              Nate was greeted by Sunny’s usual spinning hug when he came in at midnight. “Hey, thanks so much for coming over today!! I was SO happy to introduce you to all the little guys!”              Nate smiled and nodded. “Of course, Sunny-Man! It was a lot of fun! You’re super great at your job!!”            “Awww, thank you!!” He playfully ruffled his hair. “And…thank you for talking to Moony.” He wrung his hands together, lowering his head a little. “I… I had no idea he was feeling that way. I tried for so long to get ‘im to talk to me. I tried getting into his memory drive, but he kept blocking me out. I thought he was mad at me, or giving me the cold shoulder, or keeping secrets from me…” The poor bot sounded on the verge of tears. “B-But…Now I think he just didn’t want me to worry. I think he was afraid that I hated him…” He shuffled his feet, looking guilty. "A-And maybe he was right, maybe I was still nervous about him, but... I know that he's trying to be better!!” He gave a sniffling sound.            Nate frowned and went in for another tight hug. “Hey, it’s alright, Sunny...”             The bot seemed to settle down, his body relaxing as he returned the hug. He nodded. “H-He and I talked a lotta stuff out earlier... I'll tell you what I told him: I'm kinda jealous of him, too, y'know."            “Really...?” Nate looked up at him.            "Yeah!! Looking after the little guys all day is a lotta fun, but sometimes it gets to be a bit TOO much, y'know? I can't take care of everyone all the time. Moony gets to see a different side of them; he gets to settle them down, and read bedtime stories and sing lullabies, and help get their sweet sleepy little heads all cozy in their cute little blankets and beds... And I dunno, I thought it'd be kinda nice to trade places with him sometimes,” he shrugged. “But I’m not built to be quiet or sleepy. I GOTTA keep moving, or I go NUTS!! ” He did a little jog in place to accentuate his point. “I-I’d also need to have a flashlight or nightlight handy, haha...” He scratched his cheek nervously. "Anyways, that's all I wanted to say!" He promptly scooped up the brunette to start carrying him to the TV. "Now c'mon, let's play Mario Kart! You promised!!"

           “ACK-! I knooow, but paperwork first, remember?” He tried to tug free from his arms.            “Ughhh, fiiine!” He whirled around and stomped over to the desk.            The jester was even more of a brat than usual while Nate did his paperwork. He loomed over the young man, wiggling his fingers in his direction, giggling whenever he succeeded in making Nate yelp and jump. “H-HEY-!” He blushed, sticking his tongue out at him.             Sun really got to him when he started singing a certain Blondie song.            “One way, or another, I’m gonna find ya, I’m gonna getchagetchagetchagetcha~” He made claw-hands on either side of Nate.           Nate shrieked and shot his rolling chair backwards. “SUNNYY!” he huffed. “If you don’t behave I’m gonna kick over your tower!”

           He let out a loud offended gasp. “RUDE!!” He dramatically turned away from Nate and folded his arms.             Nate snickered. “I’m kiddiiiiing, I won’t do that to you. But if you just hold off long enough to lemme finish, we can do anything you want afterwards.”            “...Aaanythiiing~?” He slowly looked over his shoulder at him with his grinning face.            “Y...Yes??” Welp, he knew he was in for it now.            “YAY Good!! Then I call dibs on Lemmy and we get to play all the tracks that I wanna do!”            When they finally got around to playing the game, Sunny was just as competitive and boisterous as the first night. Some of his favorite tracks were, unsurprisingly, Sunshine Airport, Rainbow Road, Cloudtop Cruise and Electrodome. He seemed to know all the shortcuts for the older Rainbow Road tracks; but so did Nate, so they were, once again, pretty evenly tied. He began to narrate their races like a sports announcer, making it more difficult for Nate to concentrate.              When Nate won again, he only had a short moment to celebrate. One playful, mischievous glance from the robot was all he needed to know his intentions, but he didn’t have time to get up and run; Sunny immediately yanked him over onto his lap, trapping him with his arms and quickly tickling up and down him sides and belly.              ”GAAHH-HAHAHA N-NOOO-HAHAHAHA SUNNYYEEE!!” He whined and wiggled around.              ”Youuu said I get to do anything~” He giggled. “So I wanna make you laugh~! Cooochiecoochiecoochie~!” He cooed playfully, eventually holding one of his arms up to play his ribs up and down like a piano, and spider his fingertips over his armpits in a circle.              ”NYAAAH-HAHAHA!! AH-Hahahaha!!” Nate blushed and shook his head and attempted to squirm out of his grip; to which Sun just pushed him - gently - onto his back and straddled his legs. He narrowed his eyelids down at the brunette and wiggled his fingers above him. “Iiiii’m gonna getcha~!”                 Nate gulped and bit his lip, feeling his cheeks and ears burning. “D-Don’t you DARE use those claws on me again-!!”                But Sunny quickly shook his head. “Naaaah that’s more Moony’s thing, I really don’t like takin’ em out for any reason...”               But Nate pouted. “...What, you think I can’t handle them?”                Seeing his pout, Sunny look conflicted, looking between the night guard and his hand. He sighed. “Okaaaay fine, here,” he uncapped one single claw on his pointer finger, quickly holding it out away from himself as if he was handling fire; he lowered it and used his claw to trace small circles and scritch ever-so-gently at Nate’s belly.                 Nate yelped and whined and let out quiet giggling, sucking in his belly.                Seeing how he reacted to it, the robot relaxed a little, going between using his regular fingers to skitter and squeeze skillfully against his sides and soft belly, and using his claw to quickly trace lines over him like he was playing an invisible connect-the-dots. “Heehee, better beware The Claaaawww~” he droned, unbuttoning his overshirt just enough that he could dip his claw into Nate’s navel, immediately making him squeal loudly. “YIEEE- N-NOOO-HAHAHA!”                ”I said it before, I’ll say it again, you have such a handsome laugh, sunshine~! You’re so cute, you sound like a squeaky toy!!”                  The playful compliments just made him blush brighter and turn to hide his face in his arm. “N-Nooo-hohoho I’m naahahahat!!”                ”Yes you aaaare~!”                   Sunny eventually moved his way down to trap his ankles in place and play ‘This Little Piggy’ with his toes.                ”Thiiis little piggy went to market~” He pinched along his big toe and traced it with his claw.                ”WAGH-!! N-NNheheheh!!”                ”This little piggy stayed home...” He went all the way down the line, increasing the pace of his tickles, occasionally cheating to jump down and tickle his sole and ball of his foot before jumping back up. Finally..                ”And this little piggy went...” He suddenly attacked his foot with both hands, scribbling his fingers wildly, making him shriek and cackle loudly. “YAAAH-HEHEHEHEH!!”                ”Alll the way home~!” He cackled, then switched over to the other foot to do the same, all while cooing and doting on him playfully.                  He kept up his playful tickles for a good long while; not long or intensely enough to warrant Nate saying the magic word, but he was still quite the crumpled, giggly panting heap on the floor after the jester gave thorough tickles and raspberries to his torso, legs and feet. He gently picked Nate up to pull him into his lap again. “Y’know, that’s another reason I’m kinda jealous of Moony... He gets to tickle you aaalll night~!” He snickered, “and after he plays his hide-and-tickle game, he gets to spend the rest of the night with you,” he booped his cheek. “It’d be nice havin’ a cuddle buddy for the night!”                 Nate shrugged. “I mean, if you want to do that, I could sleep with the lights on. I’d just need something to cover my eyes with. ...Or maybe just eat more of Moon’s candy.”                “Haha, I appreciate the offer, Noot-Noot, buuut I don’t think it’ll work... There’s no way I can sit still long enough to let someone sleep and I’d just get booored havin’ to be quiet and not be able to play all night!! That’s why Moony’s the best at what he does. IF my battery was low enough then maybe I could manage, but we gotta make sure to be all charged up for the morning.” He hopped up to his feet, offering his hand to help Nate up. “B’sides, he really wants to talk to you tonight!”              “Oh, okay!” After getting up, he reached up to give him another hug. “I’m really glad I could help you guys out a little.”                  Sunny returned his hug gently. “I’m....Really glad too, Nate. Thank you.”               With that, Nate turned off the lights.

       When Moon came out tonight, his eyes weren't red; They were yellow. "Ahh, hello Nate," he gave a polite bow. His voice, too, was as calm as it had been during the day.          Nate blinked, taken by surprise. “Oh! You’re... Back to normal?”        “Something like that, yes~”        “Is your Security mode not active, or...?”        ”Of course it is, silly boy. I’m never going to let any miscreants get away with whatever they please. I just think it’s fair to say that you needn’t worry about setting off my alarms anymore.” He reached out to gently pat Nate’s shoulder. “I...was wrong about you. Sunspot and I are both grateful for your incessant nosing about. I see now that you were only trying to help us. And for that... you have my respect.”        “Oh... Well, that’s... great!” Nate smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. And I appreciate that.”          He tilted his head quizzically. "...You sound disappointed about that."        "Wha-! Noo nono, of course not!! I really am glad I could help you! It’s just gonna take some time getting used to seeing you like this now, that’s all...”

           As the young man stammered, Moon's gaze slowly narrowed, a low chuckle escaping him. "Hmhmh...I only came out like this to show you gratitude for helping me...” his eyes shifted from yellow to bright red again, his voice taking on that devilish rasp. “But I should have figured you would prefer the side of me that wants nothing more than to make you scream with laughter~” He cackled wickedly, his finger caps flipping back to ‘unsheathe’ his claws, wiggling them at the night guard.        And with that, their nightly game of chase began again. It felt a little different this time around, though; He wasn’t just a target, or an annoying hooligan that needed to be reminded of just how powerless he was to stop this wicked robot. He was a proper playmate; Daresay, even, a friend.

         Things were going to be different for the Daycare attendants from here on out.

[starshipsofstarlord]

God is With You, Even as You’re Sinning

Pairing | Sam Winchester x reader

Summary | it was your first time not killing a monster, and in its place, taking the life of one of your own. Guilt entraps you, and it is up to Sam to break you out of your pitiful hypnosis.

Warnings | mentions of death, blood, angst, guilt, some smut, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of murder

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Fuck God. This was all his fault, everything was to be fair. He had left the world to continue on its own accord, the apocalypse threatening to spill over the planet and destroy it and all beauty that was lingering through the existence of humans.

They killed each other, and the creator of all could care less. It was his smallest problem, he didn’t mind that the murderer was succumbed to guilt, or how many restless nights that he or she endured. God was cruel, even if he held up a facade of being your ally, and trying his hardest as he supposed, to be your friend.

Your hands shook as you remembered the entailment of your mistake. It was a slip up, a vast and surreal experience that people usually learned from. But what were you supposed to do, not kill a human again? Yeah you had gotten that, after all, the initial deed had not at all been intentional.

There was the victim’s blood dried upon the outer layer of your skin, casting you in the perfect image of murderous intent. However, you had no thirst to kill, instead, your hunting of monsters, alike to many others partaking in a similar lifestyle, executed the mythical beasts to protect the human population.

It pained you truly, to know that you had killed a person. You hadn’t even spared the familiar body a second glance, and out of panic, you fled the scene, leaving the body of the city cleaner in the gutter, laying in the remnants of his friends’ and family’s waste, burying him in their crude excrement.

The thought alone, and the sight that was engrained in the peripheral of your mind had you feeling sick. Slowly, you plodded down the steps of the bunker’s entrance, surely leaving footprints trademarked in all kinds of grotesque evidence.

Without much care for what lay heavily inside, you dropped your duffel from your shoulder, allowing it to fall on the ground with a disgruntled clatter. Nothing meant anything anymore, not if you were indeed a real killer. Whilst some monsters had weaselled their way into society, ending their pathetic attempts at normality was different than taking away the life of an innocent and mortal bystander.

Often, with the darker and crueler species, there were reasons as to why they pretended to be of human birth. Mostly, it was so that they could feed from the naive flock, or kill for their own amusement. Either way, none of their reasons were good.

But now, you thought of yourself as no different than them. A creature that needed to be put down for their crimes. Filing, you breathed in, only inhaling the various moulds of putridity that was weaved into your hair, and stuck to your skin like a face mask.

“Should I call you Cassie now?” At the joke, a laugh from the speaker was triggered. He was quite amused with the sight of you, and thus, you sneered at the tall man, hating him a little bit more than usual.

“Your pop culture references aren’t appreciated Winchester, it’s more Dean’s street.” Shoving past him, his high shoulder floundered back at the harsh and ignorant impact, an expression of offence covering his stupid face. Like a fawn, he tumbled after you, watching as you walked sullenly into the kitchen, yanking the door to the fridge open, and extracting one of his brother’s store bought beers.

“I’m going to guess the hunt went bad.” Sam speculated, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, and staring expectedly down at where you popped the cap off the bottle recklessly with your teeth. He almost winced at the sight, but he wished to keep this arrogant demeanour up with you, it was a natural desire to piss you off, and he’d be pissed at himself if he let it slip out of simple pity.

“Guess correct. Well done, you’ve won a trip to Hawaii.” You waved your free hand mockingly in the air, as the other raised the liquor to your mouth, allowing you to wilfully gulp the bitter liquid down. At his presence that remained nursing over you, you cocked a brow, leaning forwards as you expectedly looked back at the moose. “Just leave me alone Sam, I’m not in the mood for putting up with your bullshit.”

He, however, seemed not to be phased by you wanting to be left alone, and instead, quickly snatched the poison out of your hand, leaving you throughly prepared to keep him right in the balls. “What the fuck?” You all but screamed at the not so jolly giant. In turn, he crossed his arms across his chest, placing the bottle down on the island.

“I could ask you the same y/n.” His tone was dominantly serious, causing you to cower back into your shroud of guilty conscience. “Tell me what happened on that hunt, of which i told you that you shouldn’t have went on alone, since you wouldn’t have been able to handle it solo.”

You felt demeaned by his words, they sparked an anger out from the firm pit of your stomach. But you knew deep down, he was getting through to you, which was something that you had not managed to even do by yourself. Air heavily passed through and out of your nostrils, as acidic tears pooled in your eyes; a crack was falling down your walls, and out of all people, it was Sam Winchester whom had caused it.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have gone alone, but you know what, I thought of what a Winchester would do. And then I remembered, I am sure as hell not a Winchester and I don’t have a brother anymore! Not now, he didn’t even know who I was earlier, didn’t even recognise a single genetically identical hair on my head as he watched me parade through the town, the very one that I ran away from when he was a baby and I was seven, wanting to hunt a monster. Yet, i didn’t kill a damn monster Sam, I murdered my brother because you’ve been right all along, I’m not fit for this job. I am a mess, so congratulations, you finally have got me to admit the one thing that you keep reminding me of.”

“Y/n...” Sam wasn’t sure how to respond, he felt the waves of shock ripple through his body. Never so freely had you been vulnerable around him, and here you were now, with very visible tears cascading down your utterly torn face. He understood it was an accident, and the times that he and Dean had tried to kill each other under supernatural circumstances had him wondering what if.

Shaking your grime tethered head at the sound of his cracked voice, you stormed past him, and immediately raced towards the shower room, finding to your luck, which had been non existent during the rest of the day, the halls were barren of life. Walking through the door, you tore your ruined clothes off, chucking them upon the floor without much acknowledgement, before you went under the warm spray of the shower head, trying to calm yourself.

To rid your skin of its evidential accessories, you had to scrub your skin until it was immediately raw. Everything within you ached, as you flicked back to the memory of the clueless expression that had been worn by your blood brother. It was probably a good thing that he didn’t know who you were, or else, he’d have known that his own sister murdered him due to her incompetence to listen to others.

Now, you were not even sure what were your tears, and what droplets of water belonged to the shower itself. For over an hour, you basked int eh warmth that seemed unable to cure your cold blooded system, turning the spritz off, and covering your body in a fluffy towel, that you were sure belonged to someone else, but right now, you could care less about who owned what.

As you reached the door to your bedroom, you found it to be preached slightly open, and as you pushed it the rest of the way, you saw Sam sat on the corner of your bed. You held your arms around yourself, insecure on the fact that beneath the stolen towel, you were nothing more than you. A wolf in sheep’s skin.

“Can I help you?” You bitterly asked, your eyes still burning from your own faulted loss. Sam breathed in, his eyes trailing up to your face, that was naked from any gruesome cosmetics or make up. The bareness to your completion illustrated an aura of innocence, and evidence that you were the same as him - human.

“That’s my towel.” The male hunter laughed, in hopes of changing the previous and well wounded subjected to ensure that you felt better. But what was he kidding, nothing could fill the void that you had dug in your own heart, nothing was closer than the bond between siblings, even if you were considered as strangers.

“Take it back then.” Too exhausted from your gruelling day, you dropped the material, your confident action making his eyes go wide, as he tried to look away from your exposed skin to respect your boundaries. It was impossible though not to allow his hazel hues to slip up the trunks of your thighs, up to- no, that was wrong, very wrong.

You had just lost your brother, not to mention, by your own hand, and he was prone to checking out your freelancing body, taking in every curve and twisted scar that was prominent to his speculating eyes. His eyes dropped to the discarded towel, which he had purposely left on the heating rail for later use, and then, they switched back towards you.

He stood, walking behind you as you looked through comfort clothes within your dresser. A light touch of his hand brushed your hair away from your neck, as he breathed a sweet hoax of hot air upon your scare. Sam was relieved that you didn’t reject the contact, and instead, pressed his lips upon the flesh, finding succession whence you hummed deliriously to yourself.

This interaction had been inevitable for a long time, but now no longer were the suspected intentions for such an exchange to be to release well endorsed frustrations. No, he was going to clear your mind for some sensual moments, and make your pretty little head forget for a moment that you had pained yourself in the worst of ways.

Turning, you laced your hands through his chocolate locks, massaging his scalp as you pulled him closer so that your lips could endure a rougher clasp against his. There was no passion, behind each contribution there was a spur of hunger, he grasped your ass cheeks, pulling you up to be sat upon the top of your heavy dresser.

Obliging his command, you spread your legs so that he could stand between their partition, his hands now running up the windows of your thighs. For a while, the pair of you did nothing more than make out, and cup a feel here and there, but soon after, Sam dropped to his lanky knees, leaving kisses in the wake of his descent.

His thumb and forefinger spread your fluttering folds, watching as your slit squirmed for attention. Sam licked his lips at the sight, running his middle finger up the expanse, until he came to your yearning entrance. Slowly, after making sure you were wet enough, Sam slipped his digit inside, you wiggling your hips to adjust to the thrust of his one finger.

To add to the sensations that were overriding your body, he moved his mouth to closer proximity, smelling the divine aroma that pulsed out of you. It was far too addictive to not get a taste, and thus,he pulled his finger out, sucking off your juices contently.

But that small sample just wasn’t enough, which encouraged him to dive face first into your pussy - literally. His long tongue teased your folds, slurping at the lips, and then switching to your clit to heighten the stimulation. He kept up a rhythm, using it as a pattern to push you closer to that edge, and he was surely certain that you were enjoying his oral work as you ground your face against him, moaning at his succulent administrations.

“Sam.” Oh god, was it pleasant to hear his own name fall out your mouth in such an erotic manner. It was far different from the way that you usually used it to snide at him, though, the thought of your regular treatment of him aided only to spur his lustful actions on. He wanted you to cum, for your juices to run down his face in waterfalls, looking as though someone had tried to drown him.

His work would not be complete until you found it difficult to even pronounce his short name. Digging his tongue in the hood of your clit, tracing around the protective area, his fingers returned to their earlier placement, and he quickened their pace until he could hear a satisfying squelch in the air.

Rapid sounds of parted moans raked from your mouth, your chest sticking out as you breasts heaved with your heavy breathing. It was noticeable that you were close, not just from that, but you were squeezing the circulation out of his fingers. “Fuck.” Left you in the form of a squeal, as you pussy wept its juices.

Sam was quick to lap everything that left you up, once more, tasting those that clung to his fingers. He went back in for another taste, but you tightly grouped his hair, pulling him away from your sopping cunt. “Need you to fuck me Sam, now.”

In an instant, the hunter stood, working precariously on undoing the buckle of his belt, and pushing all material that covered his lower half to the bottom of his thighs. He read already hard, and oozing precum. You swept your finger across the tip of his dick, bringing it to your lips to taste his foreshadowing seed.

Sam huffed at the sight,picking his prick up in one hand, and jerking himself a couple of times. And then, he aligned himself with you, rubbing his cock around your wet crevice a couple of times, slapping his tip teasingly against your puffy clit.

“Want my cock baby?” He asked, smirking as he watched you nod your head repeatedly. With that being all the confirmation that he needed, he pushed into you,feeling even more turned on as he heard you mewl, and watched the ecstatic expression cross your face as his dick fit inside of you all the way.

He grasped your hips, pulling out once before pushing in again. He repeated the action, his own eyes rolling to the back of his head at how tight you were. This would make you forget the cruel method of god, his story was not as epic as he though, for his characters were screwing against his will, basking in a distraction rather than the regretful pain that seethed in your trodden heart.

Another thrust had your nails clasping onto Sam’s covered back, biting onto his shoulder through the plaid, as you held back the tears that were trying to creep out of your blissful eyes. A few grunts left Sam, as his pace increased, and with every thrust, which only served to fuel him further, the dresser smashed into the wall behind it, most likely leaving a decent dent within the historical architecture.

“Gonna cum.” You told him, dragging him in for another tongue filled kiss as your cunt pooled around him, coating his cock in the honey from your delicious pot. He soon followed after, and for a moment, he remained against you, allowing you to bask in the comfort of his strange presence.

And then he pulled out, watching as his distraction dripped from your entrance, trailing down your thigh in a white streak. An orgasm smile was pulled onto your face, but it was certain to not last long for when you returned to the reality that laid waiting for you to return.

Sam stepped closer again, moving his fingers towards your cunt, and pushed his seed back inside of you, watching as your puffy pussy lips swallows any part of him that it could get. He would distract you for as long as he could, and then, deal with the inevitable.

[mysticpetals]

Sorry for bothering you, but I had another idea! :D If you don't mind me sending two requests, how about a headcanon (or imagine if you want, you can choose what you like best) where Jake will meet MC's parents and he is super nervous because he is afraid of what they will think of him and if they knew that he is a hacker. But when Jake and MC arrive at her parents' house, they are quite different than Jake thought.

I'm sooooo sorry that this is super late but life got in the way and I just couldn't bring myself to write. And when I did have the time, I was almost ashamed of how long it had been and delayed it even further.

So this is me, finally writing what I should have done months ago. Thank you so much for your patience!!! ❤️

Jake and f!MC headcannons

(meeting the parents)

There aren't a lot of things that phase Jake

In fact, he's seen so much over the years he was on the run, done some illegal things too

But nothing and he meant nothing, could terrify him more than when his girlfriend told him that her parents had invited them over to have dinner together the next week

"next week? Like....like seven days later?"

"yes." she nodded and his brain short circuited.

"oh my god, oh my god."

MC amused herself by looking at Jake panicking about it for a few minutes and then grabbed his shoulders and made him look at her

"relax, babe. You don't have to. I can tell them that you're busy or something."

Jake calmed down for a moment but then he noticed the sad smile on MC's face

And he doesn't like seeing her sad

At all.

So despite his nervousness, he steeled himself to do this

"why don't we go? I think it'll be fun."

MC's face was priceless.

Shocked beyond belief, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward, eyes wide

"are you sure, honey? You don't have to force yourself."

She looked so hopeful and excited to hear his answer

And they had been dating for a while. So it was only natural that they meet each other's families

And since MC had already pretty much met his (only the people he considered as one!), it wouldn't be fair if he didn't make an effort too

"yes. We should go," he smiled and MC squealed excitedly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips

"oh my gosh, I'm so excited!! I'll go call them right now!!"

:))))

Did he make the right decision?

Wellllll, standing in front of MC's house, he was sweating profusely

He had worn his best outfit, a white button up shirt and black jeans

And they had already been late because MC liked his look a little too much

Anyway!!!

He was anxious about making the best impression and he really hoped that they wouldn't be put off by his shyness

Or his profession

About which they didn't know

It's fine it's fine it's fine—

MC's hand slips into his, she gives him a soft smile and the world around them fades away

"I'll be with you the whole time. Tell me if it becomes too much."

Jake swears he's never been more in love

Okay, he can do this!! Absolutely!!

He nods resolutely and MC leads them to her parent's doorstep

Jake's heart is pounding but he's ready

The door opens and he's immediately engulfed in a bone crushing hug

He thinks he can't breath and he looks at MC with wide eyes, asking what to do and she just rolls her eyes in fond exasperation

"really feeling the love here, dad. Not like your daughter is here."

And the weight immediately lifts off of him and turns towards his girlfriend who is laughing as her father hugs her to himself

She squeezes him tight in return and Jake feels himself smile

"it's been too long. I wish you'd come by more. And Jake! Welcome home, son!"

Jake is flabbergasted by the warm welcome. Especially coming from MC's father.

Aren't fathers supposed to threaten the boyfriend?

The flashcards he used to prepare for today did not cover this

"Um, thank you," he stammers out somehow and the man laughs

"My daughter here did say you were shy but no matter! Come on in, I won't bite."

He led them inside and Jake just knew that MC was enjoying all this a little too much judging by the amused tilt of her lips

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a stern woman sitting on the couch, watching them walk in

"mom! How have you been?"

MC immediately went in for a hug while the older woman kept staring at him and MC's father leaned close to him and whispered

"She's a tough cookie to crack. Good luck, son."

He was so screwed

Jake gulped and watched the smallest of smiles cross her lips as she regarded her daughter, who was talking excitedly

"and this is Jake! My boyfriend!"

Jake literally felt the temperature inside the room drop, when her mother looked him in the eyes

"h-hello ma'am."

She nodded at him and well, that meant she acknowledged who he was, right?

She immediately turned away from him and started asking her daughter how she had been

Well, apparently not

"sorry, Jake. She's not trying to exclude you. She's just....a little hard around the edges."

He appreciated MC's dad because at least one parent didn't seem to hate him

"I appreciate that, sir."

He looked horrified at being called sir

"please don't call me that. Makes me feel old. Call me dad!"

Jake was once again astounded by the man's openness and not wanting to offend him, nodded hesitantly

He smiled widely and Jake was immediately reminded of MC's face when she laughed

"that's more like it! Come on now, the ladies shouldn't be left alone, they'll talk the night away."

MC smiled as soon as Jake entered in the kitchen where both the women were cooking and bringing out the cutlery

"had a nice chat, you two?" MC asked and her father nodded enthusiastically

"I like him! He's very nice, I approve."

"you've known him for two seconds." MC's mom deadpans and Jake smiles nervously

"can I help you with anything ma'am?"

She appraises him for a few moments and then nods

"then please help MC set the table."

Jake literally sighs in relief when the two of them come out from the kitchen

"your mom is scary."

MC laughs and pinches his cheek

"only because you look terrified of her. She enjoys making you squirm."

"well I almost wet myself because she looked at me like I murdered her dog or something"

MC laughs loudly and her father pokes his head out of the kitchen

"alright you two?"

Jake fights off the blush he knows he's sporting and prays that neither of her parents heard what he had said

Table was set quickly, with MC telling Jake about her childhood memories and her parents brought out the food

Jake thought he might have seen MC's mother smile when he made MC laugh but he wasn't sure

Dinner was a loud affair, with MC and her dad competing about who remembers the most about MC's childhood and Jake and her mother listening quietly

He definitely knew where MC got her charisma from

MC's dad was sweet to include Jake in their conversation, addressing him directly and asking him about his own experiences

He slowly found himself relaxing in their presence and telling them about his own hobbies and pet cat

MC's mother gave an approving nod at his choice of pet and asked him to bring him along the next time

Next time

Jake's brain short circuited at the thought that she wanted Jake to come over again

Does that mean tonight was successful?

"so Jake, you didn't say what you do for a living."

Ahhh

Well, it had to go wrong somewhere, right?

Jake froze and looked to MC to see her in a similar state and immediately deduced that she had not told them about his profession

Well

He knew this was going to come up eventually

"I'm a hacker."

Pin drop silence

You couldn't even hear anyone breath over the quietness

MC's mother put down her spoon slowly and opened her mouth to say something but Jake interrupted her before that

"I know you might think it's not a respectful job but it's what makes me happy. And MC supports me every step of the way and I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to honor her confidence in me. Keeping her safe and happy and healthy is my priority and I'll give my all to make sure that she's never unhappy with me."

Everyone at the table looked at him, MC with tears in her eyes and her father looking very proud

Her mother's expression was still unreadable until she smiled at him

The first smile directed at him

"I was going to say that's very interesting. I myself work in cyber security so I've had dealings with hackers. I've found that they're usually very polite."

What

The

Fuck

Jake blinked slowly and MC shifted guiltily in her seat

"haha what a coincidence, right?" She smiled nervously and her dad picked up quickly at her hint

"oh definitely! Why don't you two talk about work stuff and MC and I can clear up the table?"

MC and her father practically fly out of the dining room and Jake and her mom are the only ones left

It was MC's mother who initiated the conversation this time and Jake replied to her questions

He found it quite pleasant to be honest

It was not a regular occurrence that he could chat with someone who knew about computers so this was a nice change

And MC's mom was quite knowledgeable

She even offered to hire him the next time her company had a need of someone to check their software

Jake had no problem agreeing to her wish

He found that she was actually a very kind but fair woman who loved her family dearly, judging by the way she spoke of MC and her father

His heart warmed to know that MC had grown up in such a loving household, even if his heart gave a twinge at never having felt something akin to parental affection

"okay, you two. I think that's enough chatting for today," MC's father said and Jake looked at the time

Holy shit

How is it so late??

MC gave him a discreet thumbs up behind her mother's back and he had to stifle a laugh

"as much as we loved having you two, you should probably get going if you want to reach the city before midnight."

The goodbyes were a little sad and Jake found himself getting a bit emotional too

He really felt like he belonged here and not like an outsider

And MC's parents are so nice and inclusive

No he did not cry

Not at all

To Jake's surprise, MC's mom pulls him into a hug

"take care of my daughter."

And then he's getting roped into another hug, this one much tighter by her dad

"you hurt her, I'll kill you."

And when he stepped back, he was smiling as usual and Jake almost thought that he imagined his words

Anyway!!!

They are in the car and MC is already planning their next trip

And before he would have been scared but now, after spending time with her family, he knew he had found people worth considering his family

[thefallennightmare]

Vas Prizrak-Eighteen

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2000

Warnings: swearing, some smut if I’m feeling frisky, tiny bits of fluff, and a whole lot of angst.

Summary:  Bucky and Reader’s life in Wakanda had been everything they ever wanted. But when they are told about the fight that was on it’s way to them, they fear that life would be dusted away for good.

A/N:  There are only two chapters left after this one! The final one and then an epilogue. I’m so sad that it’s ending! 

TAGS: @mggpleasedontlookhere @grey-force-jedi @austynparksandpizza @lovelyladymayyy​

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” 

The redhead nodded, giving me a small smile. “I will.” 

“Don’t be a stranger, Wanda.” 

The funeral had ending awhile ago, most of us staying behind to chat and catch up. I wasn’t sure if I’d see any of these people again so I made sure to give them all proper goodbyes.

We gave each other another hug before parting ways and I headed towards Bucky who was looking out at the waters of the lake behind the Stark home. 

My arm wrapped around his side and he snaked his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in. A soft kiss to the top of my head brought a smile to my lips. 

“You alright?” I asked. 

During the funeral, I could feel Bucky filled with so much regret; regret for not only what happened to Tony but for what The Winter Soldier did to his parents. 

“I never got to apologize to him, really, for what I did to his parents,” Bucky’s voice sounded broken so I gave him a loving squeeze. 

“It wasn't you, Buck.”

He sighed, finally looking into my eyes. “Where’s the other two trouble makers?”

I giggled at his nickname for Sam and Steve. 

“They’re with Bruce checking out the new quantum tunnel. I guess Tony had been working on another, better model.” I said. 

Bucky hummed while he led me towards the three men, who were in a heated discussion, but seized when Bucky and I walked up. 

“What's going on?” I asked with a raised brow.

Sam ran a hand over his tired face, letting out a deep sigh. We were all exhausted still, not having much time to recoup after yesterday's fight. Right after Tony’s funeral, we all decided that now would be the best time to return the stones. 

“Steve wants to return the stones himself which I think is crazy if you ask me,” Sam said. 

My eyes landed on Steve, who was already dressed in his suit, briefcase full of stones in one hand and Mjolnir in the other. 

“Can we talk alone for a minute?” I questioned. 

He nodded and we walked towards a bench that faced the lake, both sitting in silence. Steve didn’t have to say anything, however, because I already knew what he was thinking. 

“You’re not coming back?” I finally tore my gaze away from the water and looked into his eyes. 

Steve hesitated, trying to think of the right words to say. 

“What do I have left here, Y/N?” 

I scoffed, immediately feeling hurt by his choice. 

“What about me? Bucky and Sam?” I asked, pointing to them behind us. 

No matter how far away we sat from them, I knew Bucky could hear our conversation. 

He ran a hand over his face but remained silent. No matter how much I begged or pleaded to have him come back to us, his mind had been made up. Steve was going back to not only return the stones but to live a life with Peggy. 

The anger had intensified, knowing he was giving all of us up for her. 

“I can’t believe it,” I stood while shaking my head. “You’re leaving all of us behind for her?” 

Steve shrugged. “I love her, Y/N.” 

“And I love you, Steve. Just because I chose Bucky doesn’t mean you have to forget about me.” 

He stood with a start and lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I will never forget you, Y/N. You will always be a huge part of my life, I can’t forget someone I love.”

“Then why can’t you stay?” I wondered with a quiet sob. “Please stay.” 

Steve’s lips ghosted a kiss over my forehead. “I have to do this, Y/N.”

In the end, I knew that Steve was right. There had to have been a small part of me that understood where he was coming from, right?

Everything I had done lately for my love of Bucky was no different than Steve staying in the past so he could live a life with Peggy. We all deserved a happy ending after defeating Thanos, Steve included. 

I pulled my jacket closer to my chest and reluctantly nodded. Our arms wrapped around each other in a final hug and I left a soft, lingering, kiss on his cheek.

“We love you, Steve. I understand why you want to do this but can’t stay here and watch you. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be,” I said, gently cupping his cheek once more. 

Tears welled in his eyes but Steve quickly blinked them away. 

No others words came through my lips, unsure of what to say exactly, so walked ahead of him while he followed behind. He wanted to say goodbye to Bucky, one final time. 

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Steve joked. 

Bucky chuckled. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

The hug between them was quick, Bucky not wanting to linger any longer around him. Even though it was Steve’s decision in the end, Bucky couldn’t agree with it. After everything they had gone through together, Steve was giving it all away for Peggy. 

I could almost see the jealousy and anger oozing out of Bucky. 

“Take care of her,” Steve nodded towards me. 

I laced my fingers with Bucky and gave Steve one final smile. “Safe travels, Stevie. I love you.” 

Bucky and I turned to walk away as tears fell from my eyes. I had lost another person I loved and cared about however the one who meant the most was still here, lightly swaying our hands together as we walked alongside the lake, far from Steve. 

“You know,” Bucky spoke after some time of quiet, “I think we should get a place on the lake. It’s quite peaceful.” 

“Remember my family’s cabin we stayed in after the fight in D.C?” I asked, the memory pushing its way forward. 

It was the first time I had shared time and made memories with Bucky, not Soldat. 

Bucky smirked and nodded. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” I stated. 

We came to a stop and Bucky pulled me into his chest, vibranium fingers brushing the hair out of my face. He lowered his lips, giving me a tender kiss. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Bucky gushed.

Leaning up on my toes, I gave him another quick kiss. “I love you too, Bucky.” 

We started walking again but suddenly, I remembered the surprise that I had yet to show him. 

“I have something to show you, only if you’re up for it.” I said. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close again. “I’m always up for anything if you’re involved, doll.” 

“No fucking way,” Bucky gasped. 

“I know it looks a lot worse since the last time you saw it but I have so many ideas on how we can fix it all,” I babbled on while pointing to different things around us, stating how we could change things. 

“If you think about it,” I continued to ramble, “All it really needs is new flooring throughout and a good paint job. And the kitchen could use an update. Oh, the bathrooms need to be completely gutted.” 

“Doll,” Bucky reached for my hands causing me to come to a complete stop. 

He wore the pridest, widest, smile I had ever seen on his gorgeous face. It was the type of smile that made the corners of your eyes crinkle. 

“You bought my childhood home?” He asked. 

I nodded but grew anxious the longer he stared into my eyes. “Should I not have? Was that too weird?” 

Bucky hushed my ramblings with a kiss. 

“I fucking love you, doll. I can’t believe you did that,” Bucky mused against my lips. 

Our fingers laced together and I pulled him along, filling him in on how we could fix things and update the home to its former glory. 

The dining room had a huge window that when the sun would set int he evenings, it would cast the home in an orange hue. 

We could tear down the wall between the kitchen and living room, giving the home a large open concept. 

There were three bathrooms total, all of which needed to be completely gutted. 

Out of the five bedrooms, I guided Bucky towards my favorite one. His old bedroom. 

“I know your room was the smallest but what if we tear down that wall,” I pointed to the one opposite of us, “And connect the two rooms. I really love how large the windows are in here. We could put in a set of French doors that lead out onto a deck.” 

“That all sounds amazing, Y/N.” 

Bucky had not stopped smiling since we stepped foot through the threshold. He knew immediately where we were the second I had turned on the street. 

“The agent told me that there’s a small lake behind all of those trees. I tried to get in contact with the man that owns that land to see if he was willing to see but I guess he disappeared with the snap,” I stated while we turned to look out the large window in the room. 

A small chuckle erupted from Bucky’s throat, earning a confused look on my end. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“Names James Buchanan Barnes. I heard you were interested in buying my land,” Bucky extended his hand towards me, wanting me to shake it. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Confusion was an understatement on how I felt at the moment. 

“Before I went to war, back in the 40’s, my parents surprised me with that piece of land. They wanted me to have something that I would be able to make a home on and raise my family close to them,” Bucky shared. 

My lips parted slightly at his words. Between the both of us, we had now owned just over two acres of land?

“I can’t believe it,” I laughed, shocked. 

Bucky wrapped his arms around me from behind, placing a kiss on the top of my head. 

“Thank you for this, doll. I can’t wait until we fix this up and start raising our family here,” he mused, thinking of his exciting future ahead. 

I turned into his arms, snaking my arms around his neck. “You want to have a family with me?” 

Bucky’s eyes shone with so much love and purpose. I could feel the pride emanating from his soul. 

“Y/N, I want to live with you for the rest of my life, even when we’re ghosts. I don’t want to experience this life with anyone else,” Bucky sealed the admission with a kiss. 

Suddenly I had remembered that there was one more final thing I had to tell him. I knew that with this news he wouldn’t be so happy. As I opened my lips to speak, Bucky had beat me to it, rambling on about ways we could fix up the rest of the house and the backyard. 

He spoke with so much purpose for the future, our future, and it brought tears to my eyes knowing that after the hell of a life he had, he was excited for something. Bucky had a future to look forward too that didn’t involve death or heartbreak. It involved us and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sam. He was all we had left and I refused to leave him behind, even if Bucky tried to kill him. 

With a silent nod, I had decided to keep that final secret of losing our child in the snap to myself. 

“Buck,” my voice came out husky and raw. “Why don’t we head back to the hotel to celebrate?” 

Seeing how excited he was for our future brought immediate warmth to my core and the itch to feel him between my legs again. 

Without a second thought, Bucky’s pupils turned dark with lust as he lifted me onto his shoulder and ran out of our home. We didn’t want to waste any more time.

[yanderepuck]

Dragon OCs!!

So we got Talgosa and Karid. Both from Eskor.

I made a post on Talgosa but I'll sum her up: She is a Silver dragon. She has a human and dragon form. Info on Silver dragons: They don't spend much time in their "lair" so the things they hoard are small so it can travel with them. Silver dragons LOVE to fly and will just soar for hours through cold, wintry skies. They are the largest breed of dragons, their height being at 24ft, and their wing span being 150 ft. They will also eat just about anything, they like to try new things.

A Silver dragons scales will sparkle in the sunlight. They also have frills that start at the top of their head and go all the way down to their tail with the base being a light color, and as it gets closer tot he end get to a deep purple and sometimes black at the spines. Silver Dragons are fairly family oriented and live in groups. Silver dragons just want peace and to not cause harm, if they are asked to help, they won't turn them down though. They also enjoy the company of elves.

Talgosa is very different in this sense. She prefers to be alone, but it is mainly because she has always been alone. While on Voa she doesn't bother anyone. She lives far North of the island in the mountains and comes down into town every so often. She's always in a bad mood because she's stuck on this island. Ambrosia informs her every time that she is allowed to leave, but Talgosa won't because they don't know what the world is like, and for all she knows, she's one of the last dragons alive.

~~

Now Karid is a White Dragon. The smallest dragon breed at 16 ft and a 72 ft wingspan. They will hoard anything shiny. They don't care what it is. Shiny? They take. So their scales are obvs a pure white and sorta sparkle int he sun. Their head and neck seem to be one int eh same, they blend into each other. Their wings are always a tad frayed at the edges as well. They also have a pointy turned down beak. Some of their teeth show when their mouths are closed. They also have a large fin on top of their head but have no horns

White Dragons and Silver Dragons are similar and very different from each other. Their colors are similar, they both live in icy cold habitats, and their abilities relate to ice as well. But Silver Dragons are the largest and most intelligent breed, while White Dragons are the smallest and considered the dumbest. However, White Dragons have an incredible memory, so if you do wrong to a White Dragon they will hunt you down to kill you.

White Dragons are remarkable hunters, but will really only eat anything if it is frozen.

Now Karid is fairly small, but he's not stupid. Far from stupid really. White Dragons barely want to take care of their eggs let alone live with someone else, but he loves company, He loves being around others. He has a very hard time understanding somethings tho.

~~

If we are looking at their Dragon form height. This is how much of a difference there is:

This is about what they are in their humanoid form tho

Talgosa is much taller than Karid. Plus Talgosa has horns even in her humanoid form.

I can't really draw but this is basically Talgosa's humanoid form. I need to fix it a bit. Silver Dragons don't have a forked tongue...but I gave her one. She also has blue eyes.

I don't have a ref of Karid, and surprisingly enough...he does wear clothes unlike Talogsa

While Talgosa keeps her hair shoulder length. Karid has long white hair that he pulls back. His sclera is black instead of white, and his iris are green. The edges of his wings are a bit tattered and all of the scales on his body are white. He has scars on his face and different parts of his body from fights.

His tail isn't as thick as Talgosa's and it flicks around like a cats tail. He will often wrap it around his waist to keep it from getting in the way.

~~

The two are from the same country, Eskor, but they don't know each other. With White Dragons being the smallest they keep to themselves to avoid conflict from the other dragons, but other than Silver Dragons, not many others adventure into the snowy mountains.

Eskor is a country of Dragons, other creatures lived there too. Many elves did along with some humans who where there to receive protection from dragons, thus giving the dragons something in return.

They still haven't technically met, but I'm working on that

@spoopy-fish-writes @legalize-arson

[sweeteastart]

✨Day 1 ✨

of the @khoc-week 2021 :D

Themes : 1. Strengths, 2.Reference sheet, 3. How would them describe themselves?

Mikana

1. She is well known for her agility, the fact she is level headed and her very good understanding of magic.

2. Her name is Mikana. Currently she is 18 years old during KHIII. Her height is 1m75 (5ft8), she is quite a tall girl x). Her homework is yet to be decided. Her key blade is named Anti Matter.

Str. : 4/10, Def : 5/10, Magic : 10/10, Mg Def : 8/10, Agl : 7/10, Int : 7/10

Abilities : Confuse, Cure, Vacinity Break

3. Mikana would describe herself as strategic and practical

Sika

1. She is ressourcefull, a quick thinker and can add simple spell to objects (like a bracelet that can utilize Cure one time)

2. Her name is Sika. She is 17 years old at the end of KHIII. Her height is 1m65 (5ft4). Her homeworld is White Castle and was the homeworld of only her, her master and two other disciples. Her keyblade is named Broken Oath.

Str : 6/10, Def : 7/10, Magic : 5/10, Mg Def : 6/10, Agl : 8/10, Int : 6/10

Abilities : Groundbreaker, Sliding Dash, Counter Kick

3. Sika would describe herself as funny, friendly and open minded. However she would add to it that she is terrible at magic. Like not good with it.

Bunny

1. Her strength reside in her leadership, magic power and her determination.

2. Her name is Bunny, she is Anis's twin sister. She is 15 years old during KhUx (2nd drawing) and around 24/25 mentally during KHIII (1st drawing). She is around 1m70 (5ft6) once she is an adult. Her homeworld is one now unkown who fell to darkness right before KHux started. Her keyblade when she was a teenager was named Bunny hoop and the one she have once adult is Missing Ache (I couldn't help myself but give it to her, it fits too well.)

Str : 5/10, Def : 5/10, Magic : 6/10, Mg Def : 9/10, Agl : 6/10, Int : 8/10

Abilities : Aerial Sweep, Aero and Esuna

3. Bunny would say that she is close to her family, a calm person and a extrovert. Also that she is the only thing keeping Anis in check.

Anis

1. He is particularly good at finding trusting allies and friends, he is fast and magically gifted.

2. His name is Anis, he is Bunny's twin brother. He is 15 in the first drawing and around 24/25 in the second. He is 2m10 (6ft10) once he is adult. He had the same unknown homeworld as Bunny. His keyblade when he was a teen was named Innocent wish. However she broke down at the end of KHux and later on he has Clock Shard (the design was inspired by the clock tower from KHux)

Str: 8/10, Def : 5/10, Magic : 7/10 ,Mg Def : 6/10, Agl: 4/10, Int : 5/10

Abilities : Poison, Quick Slash, Counter Kick

Anis can more or less manipulate darkness and make simple attacks with it. However he can't do anything too fancy because it's draining all his energy and there's always a risk.

3. Anis would say about himself that he is close to his family, rather funny and fun to be with, friendly. Also that he has a hard time with rules and tend to do what makes him happy. Also he is rather introverted.

Pêche

1. They are technically at the same level as a Master that be in strictly technical combat or with their magic. They are very good at stealth. Sometimes, without realising it, they don't make their presence known. It more often than not result in a sort of jumpscare.

2. Their name is Pêche. They are physically 16 years old but mentally... It's another story ! I would say approximately 30 something. Their height is 1m60 (5ft2), the smallest of the bunch. Her homeworld is Radiant Garden. Their keyblade is named Dark Crystal.

Str: 7/10, Def : 7/10, Magic : 7/10, Mg Def : 8/10, Agi : 10/10, Int : 6/10

Abilities : Thunder, Sleep, Falling Slash.

Pêche can manipulate darkness at will without any effort. After years being a nobody, they also acquire the ability to understand and control the small shadow heartless. Even if they are now more or less a somebody, they kept thoses quirks of being a nobody.

3. Pêche couldn't care less about describing themselves. They have forgotten what being a individual was a long time ago

Pfioou and that's it for today ! Like you might have understood I wanted to present five of my ocs for this year. I have to say it was quite a bold (and a bit stupid) idea x) it was very difficult to produce this much art and I had to search deep within my own mind to respond to some questions ! Anyways, even if this was sometimes hard, i had a lot of fun. I'm so happy to participate again this year :D