#If only I could afford therapy huh? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starkstruck27 · 1 year

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TW: very brief mentions of suicide, and of course mentions of child abuse. Enjoy but please read with caution my friends.

Billy didn’t know if the urge to cry was coming from the fact that his dad had pulled him back in again, like a moth to a flame, or the fact that the man himself was lying in front of him dying.

Either way, the urge was there, and Billy took a little bit of satisfaction from the fact that he was able to take deep breaths to steady himself and his dad couldn’t. He was dying of lung cancer, and didn’t have long, maybe a month left, at most. Most of the doctors estimated that he’d be gone within a week or two, though, so Billy finally made himself build up the courage to book himself a flight from Ocean City to Indianapolis and actually get on the plane. It’d been 15 years, and it still didn’t feel like nearly enough time had passed since he last saw his father. The bruises that’d been throbbing that day in 1988 were long gone, but as Billy stepped into the hospital room, his footsteps keeping time with the heart monitor and breathing machine, he could still feel them all over his body.

“I’ll let you have some privacy,” the nurse who’d escorted him back told him, smiling nicely and shutting the door as she left. Billy didn’t even thank her, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Even with his father confined to a hospital bed and too weak to move even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help but feel a little unsafe in a room alone with him. Still, he twisted the ring on his left hand, took a few deep breaths like his therapist had taught him, and approached his father.

“Hey, dad,” he said, still fiddling with his ring. He remembered the inscription inside of it and the man who wore the matching one, and that helped him relax a little.

“Billy?” His dad wheezed, his voice only coming out on a whisper. It was another thing that Billy took satisfaction in, the fact that, no matter how hard he tried, his dad would never be able to yell at him anymore.

“Yeah, it’s me. Not used to seeing me without a red mark on my face, huh?” Billy said, a sharp edge to his voice. He knew the man was dying and he knew that the comment was backhanded, but he didn’t care. He didn’t owe his dad anything, and especially not respect. Still, it made the knife in his heart twist a little when a look of guilty recognition came over his father’s face.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now,” his dad said, “But I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you.”

Billy couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous that statement was.

“No you’re not,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And anyway, it wouldn’t even matter if you were, because I didn’t come here for that. I didn’t come here to forgive you or for your half-assed apologies so you could die with a clean conscience. I came here for me, because I deserve to be able to live knowing that at least if my father died thinking I was a disappointment, he was going to have all the facts straight, so shut the fuck up and listen.”

Billy’s heart was racing as he stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to give off the illusion of confidence even if he wasn’t entirely sure he was feeling it.

“First of all, I’ve been doing great for the past 15 years, so thanks for asking,” he said, flexing his fingers. “As soon as I got out of Hawkins, I went to college. I applied to UCLA, Penn State, West Virginia and the University of Phoenix. I ended up getting into all of them, so I went to UCLA and got a degree in Marine Biology. I graduated with a Masters degree at 26, and I started working on my doctorate a year or so ago. I got a great job with amazing colleagues, and I’m making more money in a month than you would make in a year.

“I got therapy as soon as I started making enough to afford it, and I’m not completely healed yet, no one ever is, but I’m a lot better off than I used to be. I was able to figure out why I was so angry all the time and why I couldn’t ever let anyone else in even if I wanted to, and eventually I learned how to stop being that way. Which, I’m glad I did, because if I hadn’t, I would’ve ruined one of the best things that ever happened to me before it even truly got started.

“When I left Hawkins, I didn’t leave alone. My best friend in the entire world came with me, because he also wanted to get out from under his father’s thumb. Steve and I moved to California and lived out of a motel for a few weeks until he could get a job and save enough for us to afford a place. I had just started college and things were rough at first, but I was able to start therapy when Steve and I started fighting more and more. I was so afraid he was going to leave me behind and go off on his own, but he saw that I was putting forth an effort, so he stuck by my side. And every day I’m more grateful that he did, because once I was able to see my therapist for about a year, I had improved enough to finally be honest with myself and with him, and I came clean when he took me out to celebrate one year of being on our own.

“He asked how therapy was going over dinner and I told him that I was doing good, and that I was finally gonna stop lying, and I told him that I was gay. And he just looked at me with these big soft eyes and a sympathetic little smile and told me that he was glad I told him, but he had already kind of figured that out. Then he told me that he didn’t care at all and that it didn’t change the way he viewed me at all, because he cared about me no matter what. And I knew he would probably react like that, because his best friend Robin is gay, and he’s known since the summer of ‘85, and they’re still practically attached at the hip to this day, but I was still worried. Then I told him that there was more, and I said that I had been falling in love with him from the first moment I met him, and it took me a while to be able to admit that to even myself, but now I had, and I wanted him to know, too.

“And when he told me he felt the same way, I nearly fell out of my chair. I could’ve sworn he was straight and I told him as much, but he just shrugged and said that he didn’t love me for what kind of body I had, he loved me for the person I was and was continuing to become. And I cried right there in front of the entire restaurant, because I never thought that anyone could love me just because I’m me.”

Billy paused and took a breath. He was still close to crying, and his voice was getting wavery and thick, but he cleared it and took a deep breath, getting ready to continue on. He looked at his father for a moment before he did, and was met with a face of stone. He had no expression on whatsoever, so Billy just let out the breath he was holding and kept going.

“It was another year and a half of just being together before he finally asked me to marry him. It was on Halloween, because that was the first time we met 6 years prior, at a stupid Halloween party my junior year. I remembered that party, because the first time I met him, he was with his girlfriend at the time, and this asshole we had both been friends with at one point wanted me to go over and brag to him about being the new keg king, but as soon as I saw his face, I stopped dead in my tracks and I could barely speak. It was kind of awkward, because I couldn’t think of anything to say to him and when I was silent for a few seconds, he ran off after his girlfriend who had slipped away and that was that. And then later that evening, his girlfriend broke up with him, and he was sulking outside, so I finally got up the nerve to go talk to him. It wasn’t right away, but we became friends, and we’ve stuck together ever since. He told me that that’s why he picked that night to propose to me, and before he could even finish asking the question, I was already crying and saying yes.

“I kissed him and he put the ring on my finger, but not before he showed me the inscription he had gotten on the inside of it. It said ‘Yeah I wanna marry you, don’t cream your pants’, because that’d been one of our inside jokes from the beginning, and he thought it would make me laugh. And it did, but not before I cried over it, because even though it was a stupid line, just the fact that he thought that much about it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. We got married a few months later in a discreet little church somewhere in LA, and it was one of the best days of my life. My friends from college were there, Robin was Steve’s best man, and she’d even managed to get the word out to a few people back in Hawkins that we were getting married and surprised us by having them in the audience when we walked into the church.

“Remember that road trip Max went on with her best friend El in 1990? Well, that’s where she was, a little hole-in-the-wall church in Southern California, watching her former babysitter and her older brother tie the knot. When I saw her in the front row in her light blue pant-suit, her hair up in a perfect ballerina bun on her head and smiling like the sun, I burst into tears. She looked so grown up, and I couldn’t even believe she was there. We hadn’t done a huge reception afterwards, but we did have a little something, and Steve and I were only really going to do the couple’s dance at first because his mom wasn’t going to make it and I didn’t have anyone to dance with either, but we did end up doing them. He danced with Robin and I danced with Max, and then we danced together, and neither one of us could keep it together. I can still remember the way Steve bawled when Max and all her friends made him take a picture with them, because he hadn’t seen them in a few years and when they were all gathered around him, he said he felt like no time had passed, even though it clearly had. Then Max and El pulled me into the picture, and Steve kissed me, and the kids all made faces like they were grossed out about it. That picture is still framed in our living room.”

Billy could hear his own voice getting more squeaky and uneven as he began to cry, but he made himself hold it together. He had to get through this, because goddammit, after everything his father had put him through, he was going to know damn well that it didn’t defeat Billy. He was going to have to listen to every good thing that’d happened to him and he was going to have to face up to the fact that no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t break Billy down, at least not permanently.

“We were married for two years before Steve started to bring up the topic of starting a family. I had just gotten my Bachelor’s degree and was getting ready to start my Masters, but we had decided to get a little drunk as a celebration and he asked me if I ever thought about maybe having kids. I knew he always wanted kids, but I wasn’t so sure. I told him I used to want kids more than anything when I was little and Mom was still around, but once she left, I wasn’t so sure, so we decided to table the discussion for now and talk again when we were sober. He brought it up again at dinner two nights later, and told me he’d always dreamed of having six kids, three girls, three boys, and that he still wanted that, but only if I did, too. And I could never say no to him, especially not when he was giving me that look, so I said that maybe we could just start with one and see how it went. He lit up like a firefly when I said that, and immediately started looking into the different options.

“It was hard, though. Most adoption agencies didn’t want to deal with us because we were both men, and finding a good surrogate took a lot of money that we just didn’t have at that point. It was killing me, both because Steve was so disappointed and because now that we’d finally talked and figured things out, I wanted a kid as much as he did. But then, just when all hope seemed lost, Robin paid us a visit and said that she might be able to help us. She was going to college at that point, too, and she knew a girl from one of her classes that was pregnant, but was thinking about terminating the pregnancy because she just didn’t want kids, she never had. She just wanted a career and to marry her boyfriend, and he felt the same, so she was weighing her options and thought aborting was the best way to go.

“But then Robin stepped in and asked if she would consider having the baby and putting it up for adoption, and the girl, her name was Lindsay, said that if she were sure her baby would go to a good home she might consider it, but the foster care and adoption systems weren’t great and she didn’t want her baby to go through that. Robin told her about us and how we wanted to start a family, and Lindsay and her boyfriend agreed to meet us and see what they thought. They ended up liking us, and Lindsay said that she’d help us out. Steve and I were both over the moon about it, and over the next few months, we did everything we could to get ready for it. And finally, on a warm April afternoon, I got out of class to find Steve waiting for me, telling me that Lindsay had checked into the hospital a half hour before and that she was waiting for us.

“It didn’t take too terribly long, only maybe five hours, but it felt like years had passed as we sat holding hands in the waiting room chairs. Neither of us moved from the moment they shooed us out of the delivery room until a nurse came out and told us that Lindsay was resting and our baby was being cleaned up and weighed. She told us on the way back to Lindsay’s room that the baby was perfectly healthy so far, and that they’d need to run some tests and give her her vaccines, but that she was okay so far. Steve was just relieved that she was okay, but then I turned to him and smiled and said, ‘did you hear what she said?’ And he didn’t get it at first, but then I said ‘she said she. We have a daughter,’ and Steve just stared at me. Then he started crying, and I had to hold him before we could go in and see Lindsay because he was crying so hard.

“When he finally calmed down, we went inside and Lindsay hugged us both and we shook hands with her boyfriend and we talked for a little until a nurse came in wheeling a little bassinette. She asked who wanted to hold her first and Lindsay looked at us, and I let Steve hold her first because he’d wanted this for a lot longer than I had. He held her and he looked at her and he kissed her head and I swear I’ve never before felt anything like I had in that moment, because a minute ago I was a new father, but it was like an abstract concept, and then when I looked at Steve holding our daughter, looking at her like she’d hung the sun, the moon and every one of the stars, it was like a switch was flipped, and suddenly I was willing to jump in front of a train or off a cliff or get eaten by a shark if it meant the two of them, but especially my little girl, would be safe and happy.

“And then, after a few minutes, Steve looked at me, and he asked if I wanted to hold her. And suddenly, I was stiff as a board and spacing out, because all that love and devotion I’d been feeling a second before were overshadowed and drowned out by this crippling, paralyzing fear. From what Steve’s told me, I went white as a sheet and started shaking like a leaf in the wind, and he said that all the life drained out of my eyes as I clenched my fists. He had to hand our baby to Lindsay for a minute, because he was worried about me, and he said he had to practically carry me to the little bathroom attached to the room so we could talk privately. He said in all that time, he didn’t even see me blink. I don’t remember much of this, I only remember him flicking water from the sink in my face to get me to come back to him, and he asked what’d happened.

“And then I remember I collapsed to the floor, and I didn’t cry, but I still shook like I’d gotten electrocuted. And when he sat down next to me and held my hand, I finally told him that it hadn’t quite felt real until that moment. But then he had tried to hand me the baby, and when I saw her tiny, fragile body and remembered that I was the one who was going to have to take care of her and keep her safe from then on, I just froze. I told him that I was afraid of her, which was stupid, right? Because she can’t do anything to me, she can barely even open her eyes yet, but yet she terrified me more than anything else in the world, because if she ends up fucked up, that’s our fault, and while I didn’t think Steve would be able to fuck her up, I definitely could. And he said that he didn’t believe that, and he said ‘you’re not going to turn out like your father’. And I swear to God, I almost socked him right in the face for that.

“But I didn’t, because somehow, without me saying a single word, he knew exactly why I was so fucking scared of someone who only weighed five and a half pounds. And once he said it, I was able to realize that that was what I was so scared of. I didn’t want to hold her because I was afraid I would get the urge to hit her for no reason. I was afraid I would start getting itchy because I couldn’t scream at her with other people in the room. I was afraid she would start to cry, and when I couldn’t get her under control, I’d just leave her for someone else to deal with, or even just to her own devices. I was afraid that if I would hold her and know that she’s mine, I would stop loving her and instead of seeing her as a blessing, I’d see her as a burden, and I wouldn’t want to take care of her. And I was horrified with myself for thinking that I would turn into you, but was even more horrified at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to control if I was or not. It scared me shitless that one day I might be sending my daughter to school with a black eye and fractured ribs because she forgot to put the dishes away before going to bed, or that she might not be able to take as much as I did and I might come home to find her limp body on the floor with a note telling me to go fuck myself, and I might not even care about it other than the fact that now I’d have to deal with what to do next.

“But for as scared as all those thoughts made me, I knew they were just that: intrusive thoughts. Because Steve had never lied to me once, never, in all the years I’d known him, and I knew that if he had a hunch about something, he was almost always right about it. And if he believed that I could be different, that I could be the dad I had always hoped for and wanted to be, then he was probably right about that, too. He told me that he knew from the look I got when I reiterated that we had a daughter out in the hall that I already loved her more than anything, and that I would never hurt her for anything in the whole wide world. Then he stood up, and he helped me up, too, and after helping me breathe more normally, he led me out of the bathroom.

“Lindsay smiled as we walked out and asked if everything was alright, and Steve told her it was just last minute anxiety, but that I was fine. And you know what, dad? I was. Because I knew that I was nothing like you, and that alone is what made me reach out and take our daughter from Lindsay’s arms, because I wanted to prove to myself that I was right.”

Billy was fully crying now, tears running down his cheeks in rivers, a constant flow that dripped from his chin and fell onto his jeans, his shoes, the floor. His nose was running a little bit and his throat was scratchy and his head was beginning to ache a little bit, but he didn’t care. He had come this far, and he was going to keep going until he’d said everything, aired every grievance he’d had to deal with and told him how he’d overcome them.

“Right after I picked her up, a nurse came in, holding a clipboard. She said that it was the birth certificate, and that everything was filled out except for our baby’s name. She looked at me, I guess because I was holding her, but I was too busy being happy that none of those terrible thoughts I’d had earlier were coming true and watching my daughter watch me to notice, so Steve said it. It’d taken us months to decide on what name we would go with depending on if it was a boy or a girl, but once we had them, we knew. I remember, in the early stages, when we would just toss names around, Steve had suggested something like ‘Lassie’ for a girl, and I almost smacked him upside the head. But then I was reading my textbook for class one night and saw one of the editor’s names, and I said to him, ‘what about Talia?’ And that was it. we decided that her middle name was going to be Ruth, after Steve’s grandmother, and it just had a nice ring to it.

“I remember when we got the official certificate a few days later, and I saw Talia Ruth Harrington written on paper for the first time. The way Steve tells it, I almost fainted, but I don’t remember that. All I remember is how the paper trembled, because when I held it, my hands were shaking. They did that every single time I held one of my kids’ birth certificates for the first time, and they’re going to do it again in a few months when our next baby is born. She’ll be number six, because Steve and I are both crazy, but me even more so, because I finally gave in and told him nothing would make me happier than to give him his dream family. And so far, I have.

“After Talia was born, I finished up my degree and started looking around for good jobs. I was open to anything, no matter where it was, and because our apartment was too small now that Talia was starting to grow more, we had to move anyway. We saved up as much as we could, and by the time Talia had turned one, we had a plan. I found a job at a small marine institute just outside of Ocean City, Maryland, and we decided to move there. We found a nice, three bedroom house about a ten minute walk from the beach for a reasonable price, and we bought it. We had only been moved in for about a month when Steve started teasing me about what we should do with the extra bedroom, and I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted to wait until we saved up a little bit more and until Talia was a little older. He agreed with me on that, and for another year, we did our best to raise our daughter and earn enough money to start thinking about another kid. Steve even got a job at a local daycare to help make ends meet and to make sure Talia was well cared for during the day while I was at work.

“And then, as luck would have it, just as we became financially stable and as Talia started to become more independent, we got our wish. Steve was opening up the daycare one day, and as he approached the door, he heard something from behind one of the fences. His coworker had just shown up, so he asked her to take Talia inside and he went to investigate, and the first thing he did when he found out what it was was open his cell phone and call me. He said he’d found a baby, no older than a month, wrapped in a blanket and just left there behind the fence with a note. It said ‘I can’t give my baby a good home, and I don’t know what to do. I figured someone here might. She’s healthy and has all her shots. Her birthday is August 5th, 1995.’ And that was it.

“Steve said that he was going to call the proper authorities, but he suggested that maybe we could take in the baby. He said we were thinking about it anyway and it couldn’t be a coincidence that another baby had just fallen into our laps like that, and I said that as long as it was a legal adoption, I’d be on board with it. It took a few months, a lot of money and entirely too much paperwork, but finally, we were given our second daughter. Because the mother had never named her, she had been dubbed Baby Doe by the court system up until that point, but once we were legally her parents, we got to name her. We went with Violet Frances Harrington, and then we were settled again for another few years.

“But Steve always wanted an even number of kids, and an even ratio of boys to girls, so once we got Violet settled and we were able to find a bigger house, we decided to go for baby number 3. It was 1997 at this point, and even though we were thinking about selling the old house before we had more kids, once again, fate stepped in. We hadn’t found a new place just yet, and we were toying around with the idea of either converting the attic or basement to a room or splitting the bigger of the girl’s bedrooms in half to make another when the adoption agency we went through called us. They said that they might have something for us, and asked if we wanted to come down and speak with them in person. We said we would, and the next day, we were sitting in an office when the lady who called us walked in and handed us two pictures.

“She said that a few days ago, a mother came in and gave her two sons up for adoption. She was young, probably in college or even high school, but she said she just wasn’t ready to be a mother and she wanted her babies to have a good home. The lady said that she’d called the list of potential parents, but none of them really wanted twins, so she eventually got to us. She said we could take some time to talk about it if we wanted, and then she left the room, and as soon as she did, I looked at Steve.

“I could tell from the smile on his face that he was already sold, and he told me that we should totally do it, because then it would even things up and we wouldn’t even need to get a new place or renovate ours, because then the girls could room together and the boys could take the other room. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was already in love with the boys, and I was too, so instead of answering him, I just went to the door and told the lady we’d be happy to take them in. She smiled and helped us fill out the necessary paperwork, and even though the boys already had names, she said we could change them if we wanted. We’d already had our hearts set on either Nathan or Gavin for our first boy, so we made those their first names, but we hadn’t decided on middle names yet, so we just gave them the names their mother had. And just like that, Nathan Jay Harrington and Gavin Anthony Harrington were joining our not-so-little-anymore family.

“After that, we were content for a while. I started thinking about getting my doctorate, Steve had moved up the ranks until he was practically running the daycare, and our kids continued to grow faster than we could keep up with. Before we knew it, Talia was starting school, Violet was learning to ride a bike, and the boys were curious about any and everything under the sun. Our house began to feel a little small, though, so we started looking around for a bigger place. We finally found one, a seaside mansion that was almost too much, but we made it work. I remember we told the kids Santa might not bring as many presents that year because he couldn’t make them fast enough. Really, Steve and I just couldn’t afford as many presents as we usually got them, but come Christmas morning, we had found a way to spoil them even though we barely had a dollar to our names. Anyway, the house was huge, and even though it only had four real bedrooms, the twins still wanted to share and there were a few extra rooms in the basement and main floor, so we figured if we had any more kids or the twins decided they wanted to separate, we could just use one of them.

“And after we’d been in the house for about a year, Steve started getting baby fever again. This was the first time we’d ever tried looking into the foster care system instead of adoption agencies or surrogates. We were just looking around at that point, not really deciding anything, Steve was just antsy and looking for the hell of it, but then he asked me one night as we were going to bed if I would want to foster this little boy he’d found when he was just looking around for fun. He said that he was about a year old, could already walk, and was able to say simple words. He knew I was a little baby-d out at that point, so he said this time we wouldn’t have to start from scratch, we would just be picking up at an easier point. The twins were 4 by then, Violet was 6 and Talia was 8, so he said they could all start helping out around the house a little more and they would be able to help with the boy if we needed them to. And because I can’t say no to him and he did make a good point, I said I’d think about it. He obviously knew I meant yes, so a couple weeks later, we brought him home. We had only had him for about two days when Steve and the kids all practically begged me to adopt him.

“He already had a name, which was fine by us, because we didn’t really have anything in mind when Steve had started looking around, but I still got that same shaky, fluttery feeling when I first saw Leo Matthew Harrington printed on the birth certificate in my hands. All the kids had been with us that day when we went to the courthouse, and as soon as we showed them the piece of paper and told them that it meant Leo was officially their brother, they all started cheering at the top of their lungs. We got a dirty look from the receptionist, but Steve and I couldn’t help but laugh. Even Leo started squealing and shrieking with joy, and since it was a sunny Saturday in May, we took the kids to the boardwalk to get ice cream.”

Billy was still crying, but now he wiped his eyes and walked around the side of the bed, and sat in the chair at his father’s bedside after taking out his wallet. He opened it and thumbed through it, eventually finding what he was looking for and holding it up in front of his father’s face. It was a picture, taken just a few months ago, on the beach right outside their house. He couldn’t remember who had taken it, probably some couple or kid walking by, but he remembered how happy he was in that moment.

“This is my family,” he said, the tears coming back with twice as much force and his voice beginning to wobble even more. “The man sitting next to me is my husband. The little girl behind us with the black hair and beige colored skin and almond eyes is Talia. The little black girl sitting next to me with the heart shaped sunglasses is Violet. They’re my daughters.” He paused again, wiping his nose as his voice broke and he took a breath to steady himself. “The little boy next to Steve with the blue glasses and red hair is Leo, and the two blond boys on our laps are the twins. Nathan is on my lap and Gavin is on Steve’s, and I can tell them apart because Gavin only smiles with his teeth and Nathan only smiles with his lips. They’re my sons.”

His father lifted a shaky hand to try and take the picture, but Billy held it out of his reach. It was too precious to him to even think about letting his dad hold it, especially since he couldn’t really respond this whole time and he didn’t know if he would, like, rip it up or something. He didn’t want to risk it. It was too important to him.

“In a few weeks, I’m going to get to hold my third baby girl. Her name is going to be Samantha Christie Harrington. From what we can guess, we assume she’s going to have pale skin and brown hair. We don’t know if her eyes are going to be blue or brown, or even hazel. We don’t know if she’s going to be born healthy, although we’re praying that she will, and we don’t know when her birthday is going to be or at what time she’ll be born. But we do know that the girls are ecstatic about getting a little sister, and the boys are excited for Aunt Max and Uncle Lucas to stay over with them while we’re at the hospital. We know that no matter what this child looks, acts, or is like, we’re going to love her just as much as we love all the rest of them. And we know that we’re ready and able to do that, because we’ve already done it five times before, no matter how scared we were or how tired or how uncertain we were.”

“Billy, I-” his father tried to get a word in, but Billy wasn’t having it.

“No, you shut the fuck up, I’m not finished!” He bordered on yelling, but he made himself regain control. He slipped the picture back into his wallet and put it back into his pocket, just trying to busy himself until he could be sure he wasn’t going to lash out again. His father was silent the entire time.

“Listen, dad, I didn’t come here to yell. I didn’t come here to get angry or to get an apology or even an explanation, I’m past all that shit. I came here because I heard you were dying, and despite how much shit you put me through, I couldn’t make myself hate you enough to just ignore that. I also can’t make myself love you enough not to come and forgive you and let you meet your grandchildren and your son-in-law. And as much as it kills me, I can’t make myself stop loving you no matter how hard I try, and I fucking try. But you were the only one who stayed. When Mom split, when Grandma died, when Uncle Jerry went to prison. You could’ve tossed me out like yesterday’s garbage since there was no one else around to give a damn, but you stayed. You put food in my stomach and you kept clothes on my back and, I don’t know, maybe deep down inside you, you really were just trying to make me become a better person, and I can’t hate you for that. But somewhere along the way, your wires got crossed, and you took it too far. You had this... this rage inside you and for some reason, you thought the best person to take it out on was your pre-teen son. And then I guess something broke inside you, because it seemed like you started to actively look for things to justify one more punch, one more insult, one more punishment. First it was because I wasn’t into sports like you were and I couldn’t hit a baseball to save my life. Then it was because I was queer, and having a faggot for a son wasn’t “right”. Then it was because of the music I liked, or the jewelry, or the people I hung out with or the grades I had. Nothing was ever good enough for you, I was never good enough for you.”

Billy paused again. He needed to wrap this up. He hadn’t even packed an overnight bag, just a few things to keep him occupied on the plane rides there and back. So he sucked in another breath and he sat up straight, and for the first time since he’d gotten the phone call that his dad was dying, he felt the weight lifting off of his chest.

“But I don’t need to be good enough for you anymore, and I know that now. It took a long time and a lot of therapy, but I know it. Now I know that I’m good enough to be another person’s entire world, so much so that they put a ring on my finger to make sure I’d be with them until we’re old and gray. We have bad days, we’re not perfect, we fight, but at the end of the day I’m good enough to man up and tell him I’m sorry and I want to make things right because I love him. I’m good enough to sit on the boardwalk with my Violet and throw bread at seagulls, and I’m good enough to walk around looking for seashells with my Talia while she tells me about the really cute boy that smiled at her in class. I’m good enough to play dinosaurs with Nathan with one hand and color with Gavin in one of his coloring books with the other, and I’m good enough to sing Leo to sleep when nothing else will even make him doze. I’m good enough to make amends with the people I’ve hurt because I actually want to, and not just because I’m on my deathbed and I want a better chance at getting into Heaven. And I’m good enough to hold my Samantha for the first time and tell her how much I love her and mean it. And I did all that by myself, because I wanted to prove that I was better than you, and that I would always be better than you, because you made my life hell and I’m still dealing with the aftermath. Every day it’s a struggle, but I know that I’m going to come out on top, because the hard part is over. I’m already out of your clutches. And I’m not going to take that or anything that’s resulted from me getting away for granted, because it’s too important to me.”

Billy stood up, wiped away the last of his tears with his jacket, and cleared his throat again as he headed for the door. He opened it and was planning on just walking right out and not stopping until he was in a car and headed for the airport, but something made him stop. He stared out into the blinding white hallway of the hospital for a second, and finally turned one more time to face the man on the bed. He didn’t owe him anything. But he had already bared his heart and soul to him, what was two more words?

“Goodbye, Neil,” he said.

And with that, he was gone.

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

Billy had gotten home the same night he left, albeit very late at night. He was more tired than he had ever been before, and he wanted nothing more than a nice hot shower and to curl up beside Steve in bed. But after the day he’d had, he couldn’t just do that. Something was still tugging in his guts, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the way he’d left things with Neil or if it was because he hadn’t eaten anything that day except for the little snack packets the flight attendants had given him and a snickers bar from the hospital vending machine that was probably as old as some of the patients. Either way, he was too tired to deal with it, so he just went inside, got his hot shower, and put on his pajamas before crawling under the covers with Steve. He was lying on his side with his back to Billy, so he shifted until their bodies were perfectly in line and he wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck. He only sat up a little bit when he felt a smaller body on the other side of Steve, only to find Leo curled up against Steve’s chest.

“You gotta make me a recording of you singing for the next time you’re out of town,” Steve mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “This was the only way I could get him to even close his eyes.”

Billy’s heart melted in his chest as he said it, and it only turned further into goop when Steve turned his head and craned his neck to give him a kiss before snuggling back into the covers. And as Billy settled in with him, his arms around both his husband and his son, the tugging feeling in his gut finally stopped.

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

Three days later, he got the phone call from the hospital that Neil was dead.

It’d been a busy Thursday morning in July, and while he and Steve were running around trying to get the kids up, dressed, fed and out the door for daycare, the phone rang. Billy was using one hand to wipe the maple syrup from Gavin’s face the the other to help Violet with her hair, and he couldn’t tell you what Steve was doing for a million dollars, so he didn’t even know the phone had been ringing until Talia walked over and handed it to him.

“It’s for you, daddy,” she said, then walked away to do whatever she’d been doing before. Billy had finally gotten the syrup of Gavin’s face and Violet was satisfied with her hair, so Billy stood up and took the cordless phone into a different room so he could hear better.

It was the nurses at the hospital. They said that they were sorry for his loss and that Neil had passed away that morning. They told him that he was the only one Neil had listed as next of kin, and that they would hold the body until arrangements could be made for his funeral. Then they offered their condolences and told him that he could call back at the number they gave whenever the arrangements had been made. Billy had gone on auto-pilot when he thanked them, and when he hung up, his chest felt hollow. He wasn’t happy or sad or angry or even relieved, no, he just felt numb.

He didn’t want to make the damn funeral arrangements. He didn’t want to have to explain to his kids that the man who’s body they were seeing being lowered into the ground was their grandfather, but they never met him because he hurt their daddy and would’ve probably hurt them, too if he’d ever been given the chance. He didn’t want his father to be dead, but he didn’t know if he was upset about it either. He was too confused and he didn’t know what to feel, but he still felt like he was about to burst with something, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

He took the handheld phone and hurled it at the wall as he let out a deep, animalistic howl of a yell, and crumbled to the floor with his head down and his shoulders hunched to try and keep it all under control. His ears were ringing, so he didn’t hear the six sets of footsteps running towards him from the kitchen until he felt one pair of arms wrap around him gently.

“Hey, Billy, what’s wrong? What happened?” Steve asked, tapping a beat on Billy’s shoulder to help him regulate his breathing, a trick he’d learned years ago and still remembered even though he rarely had to use it anymore.

“That was the hospital,” he said, choking out the words. “He’s dead, Stevie.”

“Who’s dead?” Nathan asked, his blue eyes big and round with questioning.

“Just... somebody that daddy used to know,” Steve said, hoping that that was the right answer. Billy would’ve told him if it wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything now, and neither Nathan nor any of their other kids questioned any further. Instead, they gathered around their father, all piling on top of him to give him kisses and hugs and tell him they loved him. Billy felt like a volcano, but only after the eruption, like his little outburst had been the hard part and now, with the help of his family, the magma was settling and the lava was cooling down into solid rock. He wrapped his arms around all of his kids in the most awkward group hug in the history of group hugs, but not one of them cared. It helped Billy to calm down, and that’s what was important.

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

A week after the call from the hospital, the phone rang again, and again, Talia was the one to answer. The handheld had been pieced back together with Steve’s nimble hands and half a roll of masking tape, but it would do for now. Billy still felt bad for breaking the phone, but he’d stopped apologizing for it when Steve told him that if he did it again, he’d break it worse so that he would stop. It was a joke, obviously, but it worked, and Billy had stopped apologizing for it.

They hadn’t had a funeral. Not a real one, at least. Steve had taken the kids again and Billy headed out to Indianapolis again, having to stay overnight this time, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t felt much of anything since the call, and was kind of distant for a few days, but he hoped that once his dad’s body was in the ground and he was back home, he would be okay. He just needed time to process.

Steve and the kids were giving him all the time he needed, the kids making sure they were on their best behavior and Steve doing anything he could to make sure Billy was alright. He’d talked to his therapist and was able to work through it a little bit, but the things Steve and the kids were doing were helping, and he was grateful for it.

He’d only stayed in Indianapolis for two days, one to pick out the casket and set things into motion, and the other to make sure they actually got him in the ground. He didn’t even wait for the headstone to be carved, instead just told them to make sure he got one and that would be that before heading for home once again. Steve and the kids had all run up to him to hug him as soon as he stepped in the door, and, per his request, they all sat on the beach that night and fed the seagulls as they watched the sunset. None of them spoke much, they just sat, but they were all perfectly okay with that. And the next day, Billy started to act like himself again, a little at a time.

Now, he was almost completely back to normal. His head still felt a little heavy, but it was mostly gone, and he didn’t even think twice when Talia handed him the phone and said, “It’s for you, daddy.”

It was the hospital again, but this time, it was much closer to home. Georgia, the lady who was carrying their baby, had just gone into labor and had checked into the hospital. Billy nearly threw the phone again in his rush to get to Steve and tell him the news.

Samantha had decided that she was going to come out a week early, so Billy and Steve had to wrangle five children into their mini-van by themselves as Billy called Max. She and Lucas lived in Pennsylvania, so they were going to be a little while, but Max said she was already leaving work and that they’d be there as soon as they could to get the kids. Billy thanked her and told her which hospital they were going to, then hung up as Steve drove through the town.

When they got there, Steve went to check on Georgia, and Billy stayed in the waiting room with the kids. It was just beginning to get dark out, Leo should’ve already been in bed, but Billy was too jittery to worry about that now. An hour and a half later, Max and Lucas showed up, both hugging him and Steve and saying congratulations before swapping keys with Steve and taking the kids back to the van to head back home. Steve walked them to the elevator and then returned to Billy’s side, holding his hand like he always did and pretending he wasn’t just as nervous until a few hours later, when the nurse finally came out and told them to follow her.

Georgia was asleep by the time they got into the room, but her husband was awake, still holding her hand. He used his other one to shake with Billy and Steve and congratulate them, and finally, the nurse came in with Samantha.

At this point, it was tradition to let Steve hold her first. She was asleep, or at least she looked it, as Steve picked her up, but as soon as he put his hand underneath her head, her eyes opened up and she began to cry. Steve tried to soothe her, but nothing seemed to work, and her little face got red as she continued to scream. It woke Georgia up and she tried to calm her down, but even she couldn’t do anything to quiet the baby.

But this girl had a set of pipes on her, and finally, she had screamed so loud and so long that it was almost excruciating to listen to. Steve took her back from Georgia and tried again, but it was useless, and he sighed.

“Here, Bill, you try and calm her down. Nothing we’re doing seems to be working,” he said, and handed Samantha off to Billy.

As soon as he had her tiny body cradled in his arms, the baby stopped crying. It was almost instantaneous, and even though her face was still a little red and blotchy, she blinked her big eyes up at him and smiled.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Steve smiled, wrapping his arm around Billy’s waist. “Glad to know she’s already chosen her favorite parent.”

Billy wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t think about much of anything else at the moment except his daughter’s big, dark eyes boring into his. He smiled at her and rubbed her belly with his finger, making her gurgle and coo in response. She took her own tiny hand and raised it just enough to grab onto Billy’s finger, holding it with an iron grip. Or, at least the newborn equivalent of an iron grip.

She continued to stare into his eyes and hold onto him for a long time, but after a while, her grip weakened and her eyes slipped closed. As she fell asleep in Billy’s arms, Steve came back over from making small talk with Georgia and her husband. Georgia was exhausted, and frankly, so was her husband, and they had begun to fall asleep again as well, leaving Billy and Steve as the only ones awake. Billy was still just staring at Samantha, though, and only noticed Steve by his side when he nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arm around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “You doing okay?”

And when Billy thought about it, he found that he really, really was.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ve never been more okay in my entire life.”

#my boys deserve a good happy life with minimal angst #and that's exactly what they're gonna get #and they deserve closure #so they're gonna get that too #and neil hargrove can suck an egg #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #parentgrove

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sparguscityangel · 2 years

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The Throne

Prompt suggest by the lovely @radioactivepeasant! <3 I’m a little rusty, I haven’t written anything in about a year or two so I’m still trying to get into my groove, though this prompt was too good to pass up!!! I’ll put some notes in the tags if you’re interesting in some of the thought process into this! Enjoy!

TW: brief and non-graphic panic attack, mentions of blood and body horror

Prompt: Underground post Jak 2 trying to make Jak take the throne?

The second the rift gate collapsed behind Samos and the Kid — Jak, how could he not have seen the resemblance? — Jak found himself standing in the Underground bunker flanked by almost everyone he knew.

It sort of slipped out of him. The outlandish discovery that he spent the better part of three months protecting himself from the very people would would still get their devious hands on him later in life still rattled him deeply, and when he saw Torn and Ashelin’s panicked expression over the lack of Kid with them, it kinda came out all at once. For once, it was Jak who spilled the beans and not Daxter, who did a double take as soon as the words came out. Jak doesn’t even remember exactly what he said, and was somewhat grateful when Samos stepped in to explain the time travel bits.

Somewhat grateful. He wished Daxter was with him, but he was also glad that his friend decided to hang back at the Hip Hog — now the Naughty Ottsel — in preparation for the celebration to mark the end of the metalhead war. Still, he really could use a friend right about now. Now he was standing under a swinging lightbulb while everyone regarded him differently. A sick part of him relished in the change of attitude towards him. They didn’t see him as the dangerous teenaged renegade, they saw him as the last of a royal bloodline. Their faces were painted in hues of disbelief and confusion, all masked by the stern expressions of a body of radicals deciding what to do with the problem at hand.

Torn was the first to speak.

“You were the Kid this entire time,”

“Looks like it,”

“So you’ve always been a huge pain in the ass, huh?”

Ashelin hit Torn’s arm. The former KG flinched, though it was evident that she didn’t even hit him that hard. He still strunk back as Ashelin took control of the meeting.

“Jak, we can’t begin to imagine what this city has put you through. It seems we’ve been messing up your entire life … Please know that this city owes you a debt of gratitude for helping us bring down my father’s regime and defeating Kor. You’re a true hero,” Ashelin said, her version of an apology falling to deaf ears. Messing up was an understatement, “That being said, we cannot afford to lose any time in rebuilding the city. We need a leader, Jak. The rightful leader,”

The room fell in complete silence. The last statement hung in the air like a dead man, ever present and the only thing on everyone’s minds. Everyone’s, except Jak’s it seemed. “Wait. You’re not seriously suggesting I take the throne, are you?”

It never occurred to him that this was the absolute best case scenario. He was too young before, barely four and far too naive in the ways of life, much less in ruling an entire city. Even if he did take the throne at that age, he still would’ve needed someone to oversee the operations of the city until he became of age. This, however, was a gift falling into the lap of the Underground. The rightful heir to the throne was old enough to make decisions regarding the well-being of the city.

Precursors, they wanted to put his ass on the throne before putting his ass in therapy.

Jak shook his head, hunching his shoulders in on himself. He was about to say something when Samos interjected. “He hasn’t reached his eighteenth year yet! There’s a right way to go about things like this—”

“He’s already been through the Trials, Samos, he’s more than ready to take the throne,”

“Just barely! Even the Precursors didn’t want to let him complete the Trials because he was too young even in this form. It was a matter of grave importance, but that doesn’t mean we can disregard tradition,”

“Tradition?” Ashelin hissed, her jaw tightening. “I think tradition went out the window the day when his father abandoned the throne,”

Jak went stiff. Everyone always talked about his older ancestor, but no one had even thought to mention his parents. Suddenly, new questions were racing through his head. Was his parents even still alive? Or were they just two more bodies added to the casualties of war? Would the city want to be ruled by the son of a man who abandoned his people in the middle of an invasion? What exactly were the sins he was inheriting by even just being descended from him? He looked down at his hands, slipping off a glove to stare at the knitted veins under his wrist.

The eco pulsed within him. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint purple tint under his skin. If his skin was paler, he could probably see the eco flowing through him, speeding up his heart rate and making everything seem all more intense. He felt his wrist and hand. Dark skin forever marked with an angry coil of waxy scars, bones that never healed just right and used to slip out of sockets in the first few weeks of his imprisonment. He mapped out the shape of his fingers, his nail beds, lines in his palms. Despite it all, he was still flesh and bone. His skin was colder to the touch, but there was still mass there. He was alive, he was here, and he was someone’s son. Someone, somewhere, five years ago gave birth to him and held him like he was the most precious thing in the world. Five years ago, a couple looked at him and pictured the day he would claim the throne to continue on their legacy.

Faintly, he wondered if he could find a news article of his birth. Would there be a record of Haven’s prince being born? Or were they lost when the new barrier was established? Did any evidence of the deserting king still even exist?

He doubts it. People weren’t even sure he was the son of the ruler until the amulet around his neck offered them a clue. No one bothered to give him any history lessons on the Kid’s background, but if Jak were to wage a guess, he doesn’t think anyone wanted to remember the king that left them to die in a war this brutal.

Ashelin and Samos were still arguing about tradition. Torn would just come in once in a while to defend his friend, but even Jak can tell he wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise. He was too preoccupied watching the way his body operated, pinching at his wrist to watch the purple hue grab brighter. Defending itself, almost, from an outside attacker. If it wasn’t for the countless times he’s been injured on a mission, Jak would be convinced his blood was just eco and black sludge that would pour out of him. He almost wished it was. Jak couldn’t be from an ancient bloodline if he didn’t even have any blood to begin with.

He couldn’t stop himself. The first chuckle came out like a huff of breath, then before he knew it, he was laughing hard. His entire body shook with the force of his laughs, but he couldn’t stop it now that it started. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his stomach was protesting with cramps, but all Jak could do was laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh.

Once again, everyone was deciding his fate without ever asking him if this is what he wanted in the first place. Just like how they decided he would go to the past and be a hero before he was even old enough to tie his own shoes. Just like when the Krimzon Guard arrested him and decided he was going to make history as a glorified lab kangarat. His fate was in the hands of people who didn’t even know him and he couldn’t stop laughing.

Torn and Ashelin silenced immediately, though Samos continued on his rant as if he didn’t notice the hysterical laughing coming from his right. Jak didn’t hear what he was saying, only his own laughing echoing in the bunker. “And what’s so funny!? This isn’t a game, Jak! Lives are at stake here!” When Jak didn’t answer, Samos was about to continue when Ashelin shook her head at him. Then the sage turned his concern to the blonde.

“Jak?” he said softly, laying a hand on a shaking shoulder, “Are you feeling alright, my boy?”

All Jak could do was shake his head, the tears falling faster down his cheeks. The laughs quickly turned painful, and he knew he was going to throw up soon if he didn’t stop, but nothing could stop him now. His fingers tried to thread themselves in his hair, but the goggles got in the way, so he flung them off without a moment's hesitation. The absence let his hair fall forward, tickling his cheeks and jaw for only a moment before he was gripped at the strands from the roots. A finger bumped into the mass of tissue under his hair, and that’s when the laughter finally stopped.

He couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. The world was starting to go fuzzy around the edges, and he felt like his heart was going to jackhammer out of his chest. He gripped his hair even tighter. He hoped the pinpricks of pain would ground him a little better, but without Daxter by his side to do the talking for him, the demons he tried to lock away were back to nipping at his heels.

And he was so tired of running.

“I can��t,” he whispered hoarsely, shaking and pushing the words out past the lump in his throat, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. They all hate me a-and I don’t know the first thing about being a … a king. I can’t even take care of myself, I can’t …. I can’t, Ashelin,” The light casted harsh shadows on Ashelin and Torn’s faces. Every line of disappointment cut through him like glass, leaving him in tathers and ribbons on the floor. The part of him that smelt like salt water and felt like the sun screamed at him to say something, anything to make them happy, but that part of him was mute. The only version of himself that could articulate anything is the part of him that was still locked in Cell B, whispering to itself as it broke fingernails trying to claw away at the bricks of its enclosure. “There …” he swallowed thickly, “There has to be another way. Someone else who can … w-who can take the th-throne. Ashelin, you—”

Lips pursed, the red headed woman cut him off. “I want nothing to do with my father’s legacy. One Praxis on the throne was bad enough, this city doesn’t need another. It needs someone from the House of Mar,”

Jak shook his head. To anyone else, it would seem like a denouncement of the family. A proclamation that he rejected his own birthright. To him, it was a declaration that it was everyone else that denounced him. “I can’t,”

Ashelin sighed. Jak felt like he was going to be sick. The thought of having to stand before the city and announce his ascension to the throne, of having their lives rest on his shoulders more than they already had been, made his stomach flip unceremoniously. Bile and spit accumulated in his mouth, though whatever dignity remained made him swallow it back down. He was already tethering on a complete breakdown, he didn’t need to add throwing up all over himself to his list of humiliation. “As the Baron’s heir, I’ve made my decision. You are to take the throne. That’s final,”

The hysteria quickly bled into anger, and Jak latched onto it like a lifeline. He can deal with anger. It was a natural emotion to him, he knew how to navigate it well and he knew how to use it to defend himself. The sobs stopped just as abruptly as they started, leaving him with cheeks streaked with dried tears and a curled lip.

“You really think they’re going to just accept the dark eco freak as a king? They spent months trying to collect a reward on my head! They’ll call bullshit on it from a mile away,”

“The public opinion has nothing to do with you now,” Ashelin shot back, “What’s important now is getting you on the throne. There’s a power vacuum right now, and I’ve heard talks of other members of the cabinet trying to beat us to the punch. It’s imperative we get someone unrelated to my father’s rule on the throne,”

“I don’t know the first thing about ruling a city!”

“You’ll learn!”

“People will revolt before that happens!” Jak cried out, slamming his fist on the table. It left a crack. “Or I could just abandon it, like my father did. It seems like he had the right idea,”

“Your father—!” Ashelin cut herself off, closing her mouth with an audible click of her teeth. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. After a few moments, she opened them again and continued, “That doesn’t matter now. That happened long before you — little you — were born. He abandoned his claim to the throne, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fill in for him,”

Jak scoffed. He was out of here. Call him a coward, but he wasn’t going to stand in this tin of a room and allow them to dictate his life more than they already have. He needed some air. Turning to leave, the teen was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. It was shrugged off, but the hand only gripped him higher on his neck. Samos was too short to reach him up there.

Torn waited for Jak to turn back around, dropping the hand down once he did. Wordlessly, Torn ran his fist over his chest in tight circles, breathing in and out for every complete rotation. He nodded at him, and Jak shakily brought his own hand up to mimic the movement. One circle, breathe in. Another circle, breathe out. The pattern was consistent, and despite the initial discomfort of feeling the raised coiled scars under his tunic, Jak continued to rub his chest until the panic subsided into something more manageable. Once satisfied, Torn patted his back.

“I’m on Jak’s side, Ash. We’ve already asked too much of him thus far, we can’t expect him to fix all our problems,”

“Torn!”

“As much as it makes our predicament harder, I’m also inclined to agree,” Samos sighed, shaking his head somberly, “I trained him to be a hero, but I forgot to teach him the makings of a good leader,”

Jak felt like he should be offended by that, but the relief of having the majority vote on his side outweighed whatever criticisms were directed at him. Ashelin deflated considerably, pinching the bridge of her nose as she spoke, “Fine. If you’ve got any other suggestions, I would love to hear it because where I’m standing, Jak taking the throne will be our best bet,”

Torn rubbed his chin. Finally, he spoke. “The coronation ceremony usually takes place on the heir’s eighteenth birthday, right?” When Ashelin nodded, he continued, “That gives us, what, a year? I bet you can teach him a thing or two about governing a city until then. He’s no genius, but he’s got something between those ears,”

A year. Jak can do a year. A year was a long time, and he’s a very fast learner. The idea of being a king still pulled on his insides heavily, the responsibility almost suffocating him once more, but who knows. Maybe with Ashelin’s teachings, the pressure will lift considerably if he knew what to do. He can appoint Daxter and Ashelin as royal advisors, right? It’s not like they’re going anywhere, plus it would give him time to get ready to mentally prepare. He nodded at Torn’s suggestion.

Asheline still didn’t look too convinced, breathing in deeply before exhaling from her nose. Her boot tapped on the floor in tantum with her nails on the table, body tensed and taunt. Then, she sighed. “Okay. I’ll take over as interim ruler, Jak can shadow me until his birthday, and then we’ll announce his coronation,” she pointed an accusatory finger at him, “But you’ll be moving into the palace. I need you where I can keep my eye on you,”

Jak smiled. “Deal,”

He can do a year. It’s not like the palace was going anywhere.

#i figured that praxis probably lied to people and said that damas abandoned haven since a lot of dictators use that tactic so that #the citizens dont try to put another family member on the throne #i think ashelin probably heard that growing up and never thought to question it #also!!!! my biggest hc is that in the tomb when the precursor is talking he's talking to jak directly #i think the comment that he's too young must mean that the trials are intended for someone older (maybe even 21 now that i think about it)#so that's why it started to seal itself back up because even though jak was older than the kid he was still too young to face the trials #jak and daxter #ficlets #jnd #thank you radioactivepeasant this was fun <3 #also bare with me i wrote this in like an hour aualieuhrg

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zawazawanightmares · 8 months

Text

Jaune Arc & Boyfriend

You, Jaune Arc, are connected to Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin] Your partner selected the Roleplay server. Please keep the chat clean. Your partner has a starter. Type /starter or tap here to see it.

Jaune Arc: /starter

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: 19M https://imgur.com/a/FIt4odq

Jaune Arc: ...Don't I know you?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I'm kind of uber famous so probably. Beep.

Jaune Arc: Famous for what exactly?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: For being awesome and having a great voice! I'm like a gagillion zillion trillionaire.

Jaune Arc: Oh...that's pretty cool, I guess.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Aren't you the wanna-be cop? Did you pass cop school?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: My friends dad says that cops are just dropout military men who didn't have what it takes.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep.

Jaune Arc: Wait...you're that weird guy who broke my window! I had to shell out $230 to have it replaced!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Why didn't you just tape it! Boop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Dummy I could fix it for like. A dollar.

Jaune Arc: I wasn't keen in soliciting the services of the guy who broke my window.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Why did you buy such weak windows? Bebop bop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Well! Glad it's fixed!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: It's so good when things work out.

Jaune Arc: Yeah, lucky me...so I'm guessing with your money, you don't need to break anything else?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Huh? Oh, uh.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: My money's super uhhh... hard to withdraw, uhhh.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: They don't let me get it out ...

Jaune Arc: That...makes sense, actually.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Yeah the bank doesn't like me.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: But I get my OWN money I can use from my other hobbies!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Like my youtube videos and stuff!!!!!

Jaune Arc: Good. Maybe you can use that money for therapy so you can figure out why you have to keep breaking stuff.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Therapy is for losers and pussies, I'm good!!!

Jaune Arc: That's a toxic mindset. It'll bite you in the ass in the future.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: What, it's toxic? I just thought it was fact. It's why my bff and I totally renounced therapy together.

Jaune Arc: It means that you two can't get professional help for problems you can't tackle by yourselves. There are plenty in your position who want to get help but can't afford it.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Oh I have to PAY for it too? Beep. I'm totally good dude. Can't I just professionally fix myself? It feels good to throw stuff!!!!!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: boop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I don't have the money stuffs available to go, my youtube videos only give me a couple hundy!

Jaune Arc: I mean, there are coping mechanisms you can look up but it's no replacement for outright professional help. But if you can't afford it...wait, who's in charge of your money? The bank can't just freeze your accounts unless you didn't pay a debt, you withdraw too much at once, you don't use it or you used the money to buy illegal things.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Uhhhhh.... uhhhmmm.... *He's twiddling his fingers as he thinks*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I might not be a million zillionaire yet..............

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: And I might've gotten restricted from family money cause I got in trouble.........

Jaune Arc: I see...and your family won't even cover your family expenses?

Jaune Arc: *living

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: No, 'cause I got in trouble. So I don't get anything until I go back and apologize!

Jaune Arc: Hm. Maybe you break stuff because...you're mad about your current situation and you need something to take it out on?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I dunno! You sound so smart when you say that though!~

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Are you a scholar?

Jaune Arc: No, I told you before: I'm a Hunter. I'm just spitballing here.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Smart people are so cool. My bff is smart!! He says so much stuff I don't understand!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: But I am SUPER pissed so you might be right!

Jaune Arc: Maybe you should find a different outlet for that anger. Maybe put those emotions in your songs?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I love putting emotions into my songs! But it doesn't get rid of them all. I just have lots of energy and I need to do stuff ALL the time!!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Plus sometimes my throat gets sore so I have to do other things. Usually I throw stuff off bridges!

Jaune Arc: Good point. Is there other stuff you like doing?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: RACING!!!!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I like zooming cars around and hitting stuff!! It only makes my neck hurt sometimes!

Jaune Arc: Maybe there are amateur competitions you can participate in, like demolition derbies? You can soup up your own car if you have one.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Woah. What are those? They just let you do that???

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Do you get in trouble?

Jaune Arc: Not if you're in the official competitions, no. It's your car.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: That is so cool. Do people watch?!

Jaune Arc: A few, yeah. The big shows get a couple thousand.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: dude... dude ................................... that sounds sick.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Is there an age limit?!

Jaune Arc: Not really. You just have to be old enough to drive.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Do I need a real license? Behehehehe. I'm gonna look into it with my girlfriend later!! It sounds so fun!! I could be famous there!!!!!~

Jaune Arc: Maybe. Just try to get the energy out without hurting anyone...or ending up in prison.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Don't worry! I am so much more pacifistic than the people I hang with! I really really really like this demolition thing you mentioned!!!!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Thank you!!~

Jaune Arc: It's no problem. Take care of yourself.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: If I get there I'll tell you about it!!

Your partner left the chat

#jaune arc #boyfriend #sequel

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vampirequeen019 · 10 months

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Chapter 3 of the story.

Sorry for the delay. Real life and all that.

Anyways, here you go.

Tags for this story: Light Angst, sad themes, self-destructive tendencies, depression, symptoms of depression, happy ending.

Second Date, Second Chance.

Chapter 3.

Anger and the reason behind it.

After her work, Kagome called her parents’ house as she was in the habit of doing every week. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone at that time, but if she didn’t speak on the agreed day, at the agreed time, her mother would worry about her and she would call her over and over again until she answered. But if there was one thing she could rely on, it was her mother’s endless conversation, which seemed more like a recounting of everything that had happened during the week since the last time Kagome called her.

She didn’t need to talk much, just a few, “Uh-huh, I see”, or a “How interesting”, were enough for her mother to continue talking non-stop. At the end of her monologue, Kagome’s mother reminded her how much she loved her and that when she wanted to talk, she would be there to listen without judging her.

“I know, mother. Thank you so much. I love you too”. Kagome said as he tried with all his might not to fall apart right there. Her mother seemed to know that something was wrong and as always, she did not judge her or pressure her to tell her what was wrong without her being ready to do so. After all, mothers are very wise.

“Give my love to grandpa and Souta too. I love you all…. Mhm… You guys take care too. Talk to you later, mother.” She ended the call and put her cell phone on her nightstand to charge it. She took a deep breath trying to control herself, she couldn’t allow herself to cry at that moment. She had to be strong.

She went to the bathroom to change and do her daily routine. Having finished, she went to her bed and lay down, but not before asking for a respite from her nightmares.

~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~~•~~~•~~~~

One month later.

Seeing no improvement in her friend, Ayame decided to take control of the situation and scheduled her an appointment with a psychologist, so when she informed Kagome that she would start therapy with her psychologist next Monday, Kagome screamed blue murder. How dare she make decisions for her? Not even her mom did that. Not since she turned 18. Just the thought of someone else knowing what she was going through left a bad taste in her mouth and made her even angrier. If Ayame kept meddling in business that wasn’t hers to do, and doing things that weren’t hers to do either, Kagome would either have to put a definitive stop to it or end her friendship with her.

“How could you do it without consulting me first, Ayame?! You can’t just make an appointment and expect me to agree without asking first.” Kagome got up from her desk and began pacing up and down her dorm. She was upset with Ayame for meddling in her business. No, more than upset she was seething in rage. She wanted to yell at her friend for doing that to her. Her hands made movements in despair and contained anger.

Ayame only watched her pacing back and forth from the bed. She knew that her friend was angry with her, but she would not give in to her anger. She would help her get out of whatever she was going through, whether Kagome wanted it or not. “A month ago I told you to seek help because you needed it. Kagome, you haven’t improved since we last had a conversation about it.” She told her as she ran a hand through her hair. “You’re not better, friend.” Kagome was going to say something and she opened her mouth to do so but she was interrupted by Ayame.

“Makeup isn’t helping you anymore, Kags. Those raccoon eyes don’t go away and you’re still just as skinny.” Kagome made a loud noise as she closed her mouth. “Still, Aya. You should have waited for me to be ready. I don’t even know if I can afford a regular psychologist, let alone the kind of psychologist you go to.” She sat back down in her desk chair but this time looking at her friend.

“There is no problem with that. I knew that you would try to use the money letter to avoid going, so my aunt, who is a psychologist, will be in charge of your therapy at no cost.” She smirked and then Kagome knew that she would have no choice but to go to the damned therapy. She brought her hands to her face and exhaled in defeat. She had lost and she knew it well. If she kept protesting or making excuses not to go to therapy, her friend would most likely call her mom and tell her everything that was happening to her. She took a deep breath and brought her hands to her legs. “You win. I’ll go to therapy but if at the end of the therapy period I see that it didn’t work, I’ll leave it and you won’t say anything to me or talk about it again, agreed?” She got up from her seat and walked over to her friend to close her deal with a pinky promise.

Ayame got up from her seat and hugged Kagome tightly. “I swear you won’t regret doing this, Kags.” She laughed and cried at the same time. Her friend would finally get help.

TBC.

Link to the previous chapter:

#sesskag #sesshome #sesskag fandom #sesskag fic #sesshome fandom #fanfic #sesshome fic

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xeter-group · 10 months

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Another vent post man I love this platform

Why the fuck is life so short I spend 40 hours a week at work and then I get home and I have my hobbies to do which are almost all academic and then I have my chores and then on the weekend I have to buy food and get exercise and catch up on sleep I missed and wash my sheets but don't forget I need to do political advocacy too otherwise I'm completely bereft of morals.

And then my internal debate bro starts asking why I'm only advocating for an economic issue not advocating for any other issues. You are queer yet you aren't actively advocating for queer rights? You hate women and poc too? You hate disabled people? You hate refugees? You hate the planet? You hate developing nations? You are a hypocrite. You only pay lip service to your beliefs. You pay taxes to a war crimes committing nation.

You donated a bunch of money to a political organisation, yes, but it wasn't to direct aid. You could afford to donate more. Why did you stop at the tax deduction threshold, huh? But if I directly donated to people it would be a bandaid solution. If I donated to a charity it would go to admin staff only.

You're becoming captured in the political system by joining and donating to a party. But if I reject electoralism then I'm just a theorycrafting leftist who wages war against the peoples front of judea for not being radical enough.

By the way don't forget your existence is 25% consumed, hurry up. Be more productive. Be smarter. Achieve more. Yeah your thesis grades were the highest of anyone you talked to but you HATE YOUR HONOURS THESIS. ITS CLUMSY. ITS NOT NOVEL. YOU WASTED YOUR LAST SEMESTER OF IT. you're toxic and stress people out and make them feel stupid and it was good you left academics.

dont forget to exercise. Did you stretch today? Did you look outside? Your eyes suck. Have you eaten too much meat this week? Savage. Have you spent too much on food this week? privileged. Oh is your stomach too large? Thats not the kilograms of food and water you just had, you're turning into a pot bellied boomer dad. Your BMI is 19 thats basically on the pathway to being overweight.

what happened to learning chinese? No time? Typical uncultured white person. Can't look beyond their own borders. What happened to learning Khmer? Just because you don't talk to your Khmer mother anymore? Why do you only consider asian languages anyways? Yellow fever? Why are your friends all asian anyways? Only ever had one friend group? Isolated. Not social. Awkward. You're basically 100% white because you're not from east asia anyways. Can you even use chopsticks? Oh my god wow your spice tolerance is better than I thought it would be!! You know, because you aren't asian enough. Stop liking kpop. The companies abuse their idols, you can't look at them or hear their music. If you ACTUALLY had morals you'd boycott the industry.

Don't forget to internally reflect on your biases. Don't forget to reflect on your gender. You don't have time to reflect on your gender? You're faking it. You're not that nb/trans. Don't forget to voice train though. Your friend passes way better than you and you need to catch up to them. But don't be jealous either. don't look like you're just copying them. You need to develop a fashion sense. At your age and you can't even shop for your own clothes without feeling perpetually embarassed or awkward or scared or indecisive? Fucking lmao. Subject yourself to the beauty standards. Look at people online more. Judge them. Pick apart what you like and don't like. But don't do that to yourself, its fiiiine, nobody else is looking at what you're wearing. Are you even bisexual? You haven't even dated anyone. Of the two amab people you've ever liked one is now transitioning. The three afab people you've liked aren't. And anyways, if you are aspec its not that, its just because you're awkward.

You don't really need therapy. You don't even want to kill yourself anymore. Most people have dreamt up idle vague plans about suicide before anyways. Its not that bad. You don't have panic attacks like your friend/romantic interest/previously a romantic interest does. You're fine.

You're fine.

Nothing's wrong.

Everything is normal.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

...

I'm too busy for this. I have things to do. I need to wash my hair or I'll look awful at work tomorrow.

#vent #personal vent #sus

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riseofthedark · 1 year

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Self-care

There's a post that just showed up on my feed that I want to discuss. The reason I'm not using the original post in this is that op comes off as somewhat abrasive [now if they truly are or aren't that I don't know].

In their post they say the recent mantra we don't owe anyone anything is a damaging mentality. As life is a collaborative event and we rely upon others we thus owe to others as much as we have to give. I'm not here to attack them (another reason why I'm making this a separate post), but rather am here to give my own thoughts and perspective.

I struggle with words and while I can use them properly in context their definitions tend to be fuzzy at best. As whoever may read this post might have the same issue with words I will define the word owe below.

Owe (verb) - have an obligation to pay or repay (something, especially money) in return for something received

definition taken from Oxford Languages

I struggle with what OP said mainly because I do that. I give in ways of my time, commitments, effort, all of that until I have nothing else to give. This need to give parts of myself until I have nothing else I can give has been instilled in my by my parents since I was a child. As a result giving has become the main way I show affection to people.

As a result i'm burnt out and struggling to survive. Not necessarily money wise (though that's also a struggle) but physically and mentally. OP says "we owe all we're able to give". But that's just the thing, all we're able to give and all that we can reasonably give are very different things.

Think in terms of money, I'll use my own situation as an example.

After taxes I make about $1800 a month total

Taking out every single necessary expense I have about $400 left over. For me to live paycheck to paycheck I only need $1400 on a good month. I am technically able to give my entire paycheck, but someone once told me when you have to say technically it's wrong.

So let's work with what I have, $400. I could give all of that money away since I don't need it. But, this leaves no room for anything else. If that $400 is always given away anything that comes up that I have to pay for that's not accounted for in necessary purchases, has to be bought with the $1400 I do have.

Something will have to give on my side but it can't be that $400 because it's already given away. So maybe i'll go without food for a week or even two because I have to replace something I can't afford otherwise. Anything unexpected I'll have to sacrifice something I need because i've already given something I need to give.

Reasonably what can I give from that $400? Maybe $50. Which, $350 is a lot of money so why did I say I am able to give it away? Because it's not necessary to my survival. But when I can afford it I'm paying for doctors appointments, medication, and currently physical therapy. Now im poor so a lot of that is covered but some it isn't. When all $350 isn't used up I put it in savings so next time something breaks I can replace it without hurting myself in the process.

Now let's talk about time, commitments, and effort. I can't really say no to people so my schedule has to include sleep or i'll try to go without it. Every minute of my day is planned if something unexpected happens I'll just get less sleep, maybe skip eating. After all who really needs hygiene?

When anyone asks me to help or to do something that time-wise I am able do, I do it. If I don't there's this overwhelming feeling of guilt and self hate that I couldn't even do such a simple thing. Typically, showing someone my schedule they ask me how I'm still functioning. It's because the way i've scheduled myself if I miss anything it builds to the point where even trying to get back on track takes at least one mental break down like a "you should come in twice this week for therapy" type of breakdown.

Huh, that got a bit dark for me.....

The phrase "you don't owe anyone anything", is true.

While the context it was originally formed in (general perception) was breaking away from toxic situations. I don't owe my parents my appearance, ideals, or sexual expression because they raised me. I don't owe my work soul breaking labor because they pay me. I am allowed to leave without feeling like I owe them a debt.

One also doesn't have to support the system or try to change the system even though it's done things have either benefited them or been detrimental to them. This isn't to say that life isn't transactional. To get money one has to work. To get services done you have to pay for it. To receive affection you also have to give it. Do I personally think that giving to or helping others is something you should do? Yes. There is no one way of thinking that covers every exception or every circumstance so my way of thinking is just that. My way of thinking.

But for me, I believe that one does not owe tall their able to give just for existing.

#giving #self care #giving all you have #mental health #coping #personal experience #opinion #“we don't owe anybody anything”#therapy #burn out

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khodorkovskaya · 1 year

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29.12.22

sooo i had the driving lesson this morning and uhhh... i don't know if it went well or not.

at the beginning i was super confident and then... the instructor stopped me and gave his verdict. basically everything im doing is wrong. the way i hold the steering wheel is wrong, i brake too late and, most importantly, i don't ever do the RTI. and i was like huh what is the RTI? apparently it's the number one thing they check for during the exam: you have to look (1) in the rearview mirror, (2) in the side mirror and (3) turn your head before you do anything. you have to do the three things in order every time. and i didn't know that... 😅 i only look in the side mirror and turn my head if i have to switch lanes and that's it. but you have to do it very often.

it makes sense why i feel like i never understand where im going when im behind the wheel. because i only look ahead. and no one ever told me that i have to look around too. and it's so stupid now that i say it. like duhh you have to look around while driving. but i never did bc i never thought about it.

when i went driving with B it was only when my stepdad asked me if my rearview mirror was adjusted that i realised that i could look in the rearview mirror... i drove around for weeks without ever looking in the rearview mirror...... and now it's the same thing. i drove around without ever looking around myself and didn't know i was supposed to do that...

so yeah the instructor said that he doesn't understand how i thought that i was fit to do the exam. he said i don't even have the basics and all i need to do now is do figure eights around the parking lot. he said i need 40 to 50 more hours of lessons before going to the exam. the problem is i only have my student license until april and if i fail i will have to redo theory all over again. and i can't afford driving lessons with an instructor.

so my first instinct was to give up on driving all together. this whole experience has been so painful and i have no idea how everyone does it! everyone ive met had passed their license on the first try and learned to drive in only a couple of weeks! meanwhile ive struggled so much with basically no progress. ive had my student license since summer of 2020 and im still at the level of doing figure eights at a parking lot. like idk i think im just r-word. like i just can't comprehend how people can balance so many things and look left and right and look at the road and read road signs and push pedals and switch gears and steer and quickly react to things all at the same time. like im not stupid, right? but why can everyone drive and i find it impossibly difficult?

in conclusion, my stepdad and i decided it would be best for me to go to therapy bc i have issues i need to resolve to be able to learn how to drive and not struggle so much. maybe im traumatised from driving with B. maybe it's my adhd. who knows. i haven't decided yet but im gonna do either cbt or nlp therapy to help me overcome my mental blocks. bc the struggle is real.

like idk. when i drove for the very first time when i didn't even have my student license, my stepdad told me that i was quite gifted and he was pleasantly surprised. i understood things quickly and progressed very well in a short amount of time. and then i started driving with B. and it all went downhill from there. and ever since i started driving with my stepdad again it's been catastrophic. i cry every time im in the car, i can't concentrate etc etc. and i don't even remember driving with B that much tbh. plus he had a manual! i have no idea how i managed to drive a manual! i remember just wishing for it all to be over and dissociating and crying. and i think that really fucked me up.

so yeah, i have until april to do the exam and i'll try my best and go to therapy to see what's up with this whole driving thing. and if i don't pass the exam then whatever, i'll try again in a couple of years when i'll be better in the head. hopefully.

#december

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baece · 5 years

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this is my lack of social skill coming thru but i hate saying long goodbyes

#like especially the end of semester type stuff...#like dam can we be like two ships passing and not imply we will never see eachother again :(#one time i asked my mom for my unique trait to write my college app essays on #and the only one she thought of was 'i could never get you to follow conventions. so ur unconventional.'#like oof huh #i actually am bad at like a lot of social stuff like recognizing expressions an tones and using the right tones and topics...#i think if i ever get to afford therapy again ill ask about that...

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 2 years

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How they'd react to being told they need therapy

King the wildfire

"oh yeah, you would definitely benefit from therapy," You said, nodding your head. King lowered his ale to fix you with a hard stare, he was annoyed but only because he hated it when you were right. King groused , "why would I need therapy?"

"because you're the closest that childhood trauma will ever get to taking physical form."

You raised your eyebrow and waited for him to come up with a retort. However he just sulked and stared at you expectantly, wanting you to finish conveying your point so he could go back to eating his dinner. You sighed, "King, I've been going to therapy for years, trust me it really does make a difference."

King looked away and grumbled, "I believe you, it's just a luxury I that do not have, or at least cannot afford."

"I suppose that's true, I suppose I could impart with you things I've learned from my therapy."

King huffed, "That's fine, but it's not like my past weighs that heavily on my present, right?"

You give him an unimpressed look and joked "hoo you'd be surprised, I've noticed lots of behaviors that are informed by your trauma. I can make you a list if you like, big boy?"

Trying to act like he doesn't like you calling him that, King glared at you and sighed, "I know I have issues, trust me I'm aware. I will appreciate you sharing your insight later, but not right now in the mean time lets enjoy this quiet night."

Fire Fist Ace

"We need to find a therapist for this boat," you ranted while hanging out with Thatch, Marco, Izou, and Ace. Marco lifted his hand in a polite manner and stated, " I'm not doing it, I'm not qualified and I have enough on my plate. Plus I would probably need the therapist's services as well."

"oh same, I know I don't look it, but I've got a lot of baggage," Thatch chortled.

Ace laughed, "I agree that this lot needs one, but I don't think I'd need one."

Izou snorts as you snap, "you need one the most buster!"

Ace gawked at you in shock, "Huuhh? No, I don't."

" Then tell me three things about yourself that you think makes you worthy of love."

Ace averted his eyes and remained quiet, as an ache clawed its way into his chest. Marco leaned forward and asked, "really dude?"

Izou sat and stared, feeling his brotherly instincts rearing their head in his mind. Thatch drawled, "oh honey."

You grabbed Ace's face and made him look at you, playfully squished his cheeks, and cooed, "exactly, you are a jellybean who sadly was misled into believing he is unworthy of love."

Ace stared at you in shock silently, as you said, "say it."

"I'm a jellybean," Ace mumbled cheekily as he grinned at you around your hands.

You snickered, " I meant the worthy of love part, smartass."

Marco grumbled, " I'm going to go convince pops to get a therapist aboard."

"I'm going to the kitchen, this boy needs some cookies." Thatch gripped.

Ace seemed to think that moment was the perfect time to launch a tickle attack on your sides.

As Ace's fingers danced against your weakest spots he demanded, " A smart ass, am I? If I am a smart ass, what are you? Huh?"

support me on Kofi and Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenarios #king the conflagration x reader #king the wildfire #king the wildfire x reader #king the conflagration #ace #fire fist ace #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #fire fist ace x reader #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/5/22 #no beta we die like men

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serendipityunho · 2 years

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diamond kisses (pg). – park seonghwa

disclaimer: sugardaddy!seonghwa - kinda

It had been a rough week with sickness washing over your body. No amount of warm earl grey tea could unclog your nose of disgusting snot. But money could.

What seemed like an everlasting quarantine was quickly abolished by online shopping that satisfactorily came on the same day. It was a healing sight to see all your luxuries waiting on the kitchen counter.

Seonghwa had no surprise or problem with your expenses. Well, he was the one paying for them anyway. Money was never an issue in your relationship, if you could afford it, then there was no problem at all.

“How are you feeling?” Seonghwa looked exhausted, well, who wouldn’t after hours of business meetings?

“I’m fine, just a lot of flem every now and then,” it was honestly the least you were worried about, even though you’d feel like spitting it out like a smoker.

“Good, now get dressed. We don’t have much time left,” confused, you watched him scurry up the stairs while taking his blazer off. Seonghwa was never the one for surprises, always had to plan and evaluate weeks before.

“Why? What’s going on?” You followed him up the stairs, sipping on your tea.

“Think we need a little treat after tiring ourselves out don’t you think?” Seonghwa popped on a casual polo shirt while struggling to balance on one foot, trying to slide his jeans up.

“Yeah...?” An eyebrow raised as you step into your walk-in-wardrobe, placing your mug on the counter.

“Let’s get some retail therapy,” Seonghwa smiled, throwing a simple dress and a pair of heels onto the counter.

“Did you perhaps not see the fifteen packages in our kitchen?” You chuckled, snaking both arms around Seonghwa’s waist.

“Oh I did, just didn’t look like enough packages to me.”

“This package is enough though,” you smirked, running a finger up against that package.

“Okay, you’ll get to open that one after we go. C’mon, stores close in like two hours!” Seonghwa took initiative for himself and started tugging at your sweatpants in hurry.

“Okay, okay. Give me a minute,” you laughed, undressing yourself for the fit he had nonchalantly picked.

“Where to first?” Seonghwa snatched his car keys off the kitchen counter as you juggle yourself on the stairs, trying to slip each heel onto your feet.

“Uh, I forgot to buy some shoes surprisingly,” despite the separate room dedicated to your shoes in the house, sneakers were what was missing. All the other ones chewed up by your puppy.

“Chanel?” Seonghwa mentioned, the sneakers were nice, just not really the ones you were looking for.

“Eh, I was thinking maybe Burberry.”

“Expanding the collection huh?” It wasn’t necessarily a very noticeable collection in your closet, but wouldn’t hurt to expand.

The ride to the epicentre of luxury stores was quick with Seonghwa’s sports car, you were always lowkey scared of being in it but you did trust Seonghwa’s driving without a doubt.

Amongst the street of luxury providers and classy restaurants, Seonghwa was the only one that always caught your eye. His slicked back hair and prominent jawline could make you weak, in a good way.

By the time you were done window shopping, Seonghwa’s arms were covered in shopping bags. You could see the red dents from the handles of the bags, fortunately enough, there was barely enough room for all your purchases.

“There’s one more thing you forgot,” Seonghwa smiled, shutting the boot of the car before clutching your hand.

“What was that?” You wondered, was nearly three hours of shopping not enough?

“Here,” Seonghwa leaded the way, sunset beams lighting up his features.

After what seemed a short walk, you were met with the bay of the water. There were parents, playing with their children by dock, some jumping in and having a laugh. Oh god, please don’t say Seonghwa brought you here to talk about kids-

“Isn’t it pretty?” Seonghwa pulled you down to sit on the bench beside.

“You or the sunset?”

“Both?”

“Yes-”

“Surprise,” You were cut off as Seonghwa pulls out a large thin velvet box with a big smile on his face.

“What’s this?” You were confused, never once in your shopping session did you see anything packaged in a box like that.

“Happy Anniversary...” Seonghwa opened the box to a beautiful diamond necklace, the ones that go all around the neck with a larger one in the middle.

It was gorgeous, never in your collection had you owned one like this. But what was the meaning of this gift-

Oh. Shit.

“Anniversary?” Well, fuck.

“Ohh, so you actually did forget something,” Seonghwa’s smile faded into an ‘o’ shape.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You can make up for it later,” Seonghwa laughed.

There was no words to describe how bad you felt, other than a deep hit to the guts. Well, it was safe to say you will definitely make it up to him later.

“I love you?” You questionly smiled.

“I love you too.”

#ateez #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshots #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa oneshots #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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jawabear · 3 years

Text

1 of 10 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF (look at this man...)

A/N: so here’s that Bucky fic I’ve been talking about. This took me too long to write but I like it? I’m absolutely loving Falcon and The Winter Soldier! I’ve mentioned this before but Bucky Barnes is my all time favourite fictional character. This is set before the events of episode one but maybe like a week or so before. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, tfatws spoilers, Bucky being awkward, nightmares, therapy, Bucky isn’t as smooth as he was in the 40s but he’s still cute

Summary: Bucky has ten contacts in his phone. One of which belongs the the girl he feels he has been searching for for 106 long years.

The times in which he found himself now were more than confusing. But that was the best way Bucky could think to describe them. For him though it seemed a lot worse than for others. For others, they had a gap of five years missing. For Bucky, he had far more than that.

From 1943 to 2023 there was a lot missing. He remembered it however. He remembered everything. The good, the bad, and the horrifying. What was meant by missing was that it wasn’t him who was living. He had missed out on living between those years. He had missed out on everything. And he knew, like the billions of others, he would never get those years back.

But now he was a civilian. Working to make amends from his past after being given a pardon. However, settling into his new easy life was proving far from that. It had been a few months now since the whole ordeal with saving the blipped half of humanity, Bucky included, and it had been a few months now since Steve went back in time and started a new life leaving him and Sam behind.

Sam. Right.

Sam was an avenger. More so than Bucky could ever be. So he was off doing his avenging work while Steve’s shield gathered dust in a wardrobe somewhere he was sure. Sam didn’t have it in him to take up the mantle of Captain America. He felt the shield belonged to someone else. It was Steve’s. It only ever could be.

More often than perhaps Bucky would like, he would get texts from Sam. Asking him how he was and telling him about missions he was going on. Bucky never replied. He didn’t know how to half the time and he didn’t want to.

He didn’t know how he was. He didn’t know if he was okay. He was forced to go see a therapist but all he did was lie to her.

“Have you had any nightmares recently?” She would ask him.

Bucky would think back to the night before their meeting and all the others as well. Each night he’d have to be faced with the horrors of his past. Every mission he carried out. Every person he carelessly killed.

“No” he would answer. And it wasn’t like he was wrong in his answer. The things he saw in his sleep were not nightmares they were memories. The nightmarish horrors he was were his reality, so when he said no in response to her question, he found it difficult to be accused of lying.

There were few things he could agree with her about. But the one thing he could see eye to eye with her about was the fact he was alone.

Sure, he had Sam. But only when Bucky wanted to acknowledge him which had not been often as of recently. And as his therapist so kindly pointed out he only had ten contacts on his phone. But in his defence, he still wasn’t used to the whole world of mobile communications and internet. So his phone was basically redundant to him. His mind was still in the 1940s where you’d find a date, what would now be classed as, the old fashioned way. By looking in person and talking. Not just texting or swiping left or right on an app.

Granted, Bucky did try his hand in online dating but it was far too much for him. It wasn’t only hard for him to figure out but also he saw too much of people he didn’t even know. The openness of the internet was something that was mind boggling to him. So that was thrown out of the window pretty quickly.

But what his therapist had failed to note was one name in his contacts. The name of his neighbour and quite possibly the one he wanted to end his loneliness with.

Back in his time, when he didn’t just have the looks of someone in their 20s, Bucky was in fact quite popular and good with the ladies. But the ladies, he found, of this new age were completely different to the ones of his time. Not that there was a problem, he just knew that he couldn’t used the same moves now as what he could back then.

He met (Y/N), his neighbour, as he was first moving in. After coming back, loosing Steve and getting a pardon, Bucky thought it be best to try and start a new. He did that by moving back to his old home of Brooklyn. His old apartment was obviously gone and with little money to his name he couldn’t afford the one that replaced it. It was far to big for him anyway. But he managed to find a smaller more affordable one and he much preferred it. If not only for the quieter location then the others in the building too.

(Y/N) was the first person he spoke too when back in Brooklyn. She was sweet and kind when introducing herself. She offered to help him move in but he really didn’t have that much stuff to use in making his new apartment more homely. And he had no food either. So (Y/N) did the neighbourly thing and invited him in for some food. A meal of sorts although she didn’t have much food either at the time. Even so, it was nice for him to be in company for once. And it was such warm company. They didn’t speak about much but he learnt a few things about her.

And now, on most Thursday evenings, he’ll find himself with her in her apartment eating a meal, sometimes she’ll cook, sometimes they’ll order take out, but he enjoys it regardless.

It was clear from the offset that she knew who he was. He frantically explained to her that he wasn’t what he used to be anymore and explained the terms of his pardon and how he’s making amends. But he needn’t have waste his breath on it. She didn’t seem to care about it. About who he used to be. She told him that she doesn’t live in peoples pasts and that she wanted to get to know him for who he is, not who he was. Those words meant a great deal to him. And from that moment on he had fallen for her.

Bucky sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs to his floor. He desperately wished there was some way of getting out of these therapy sessions. But he was tied to them. He couldn’t stop going to them even though he wanted too. But there, it wasn’t really like he had anything better to do. Nothing but either sitting at home in silence or walking around busy streets constantly looking over his shoulder. Those were his only other options.

As he walked to his apparent at the end of the hallway (Y/N)’s door opened and she walked out dressed for the outdoors, it was getting cold so it was smart of her to be wearing a warm coat. “(Y/N)” he called gently to her. She lifted her head after locking her door and gave him a warm smile.

“Hi James” She said, she always called him James rather than Bucky. He didn’t know why but he didn’t exactly mind. “How was your session today?” She had memorised the times at which he went to his therapy sessions. She probably knew he schedule better than he did.

Bucky shrugged “the usual” he told her making her laugh a little.

“That bad huh?”

“I guess” he said scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m heading to the store to get some food if you wanted to talk on the way? Don’t feel you have to”

“No, that sounds good” he tried to smile but it was a little awkward, but she didn’t seem to say anything and just motioned her head for him to follow.

The shop wasn’t too far away so it was a quick walk. Bucky wasn’t the talkative type, not really anyway. Especially not to someone he didn’t like. And Dr Raynor was someone who he didn’t like. He was sure that deep down she was a lovely person but he didn’t like the fact she was insistent in getting him to admit his feelings. Although that was her job.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the store “so what happened?” (Y/N) asked as she picked up a basket.

“Just the usual...she asked me if I had a nightmare-“

“Did you?” Bucky didn’t answer and just looked away from her. “James, you know that it’s her job to help you. And it’s in your best interest to let her”

“I know...but at the same time...I don’t see the point. These things are mandatory. So if I don’t want to go then I don’t see it being helpful”

“I can understand that” her eyes flicking between two boxes of cereal as she inwardly decried in which one to get, but her indecisive nature got the better of her so she opted to get both. Her indecisiveness, Bucky thought, was incredibly cute. It linked in with her kindness, on their Thursday evening meals together it takes ages just to decide what to have. “But still,” she continued, Bucky following her like a lost puppy “like you said, it’s mandatory. And there are people who would love to be in your position. Getting therapy I mean. So you should at least make the most of it while you can”

“I mean...yeah. I guess. But...I don’t know I just...well it’s easier to talk to someone like you then it is to talk to her” (Y/N) smiled at little at this as she finished putting on the last few items before making her way to the till.

Neither of them said much else. Expect for (Y/N) making light conversation with the cashier as she paid although both (Y/N) and Bucky knew that the cashier really didn’t want to be there. Luckily it didn’t take long for (Y/N) to bag her items and pay for them before they were both leaving the store.

It had gotten colder outside then when they left originally. (Y/N) shivered and pulled her coat around her a little more before they both began walking back to their apartment building.

“So what is it about me that makes you find it easier to talk?” She asked, she brushed her hair from her face as a sudden gust of wind blew it out of place when she turned to look at him.

“Well...” he muttered shoving his hands into his pockets “for one, you don’t sit there with a passive aggressive notebook ready to write shit about me” this made her laugh a little, she always found it funny when he’d talk about this notebook Dr Raynor had. She didn’t really know why he hated it so much, and she knew she shouldn’t have found it funny but he never stopped her from laughing about it, in fact often times he would join in thereby encouraging her.

“Yes, that is something better I guess. Although, I’m sure I could find a notebook if you wanted” she teased.

“Oh god. Please don’t” He said holding back a smile.

“Anything else?” She asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment. There were many things about her that made it easier for him to talk to her, but he couldn’t list them all. For one, that would be embarrassing, and two he didn’t think he’d have the breath to do it. “Well-“

He was cut off when he saw (Y/N)’s smile fall and her pace began to slow right down to a stop. Bucky stopped and looked at her “everything okay?” He asked her, his voice full of concern.

She turned sharply to the side so she was facing the road “y-yeah..” she stuttered nervously “just...my ex is walking this way and I really don’t want him to see me”

Bucky felt a strange feeling inside him. He didn’t even know she had been in a relationship. It must’ve been a recent thing right? Unless it was a really bad break up in the past, or this guy had done something to her to prompt her being so on edge. Bucky turned to try and scope out this guy but he didn’t have a clue what he was looking for. So he reached over to her and pulled up her hood on her hoodie that she wore under her coat and pulled her into his side so that her face was hidden from view.

“Tell me when he’s gone” Bucky muttered to her. She nodded her head and let him walk her along the path, she kept her eye on the path ahead as best she could while still covering her face. But she was now more focused on two things, his arm around her and his wonderful smell. Never did she think she’d ever get this close to him. She never thought he’d let her, but here she was attached to his side with his arm wrapped around her, holding her protectively against him.

And his smell. It was just as comforting as she dreamed it would be. A mix of his cologne and what she could only describe as Him. All she wanted to do now was to just melt into his strong and warm embrace and just stay there forever.

In all her daydreaming she didn’t notice that her ex had long since walked by and they had reached the entrance to their apartment building and she didn’t tell him he could let go or that it was safe for her to walk properly.

Bucky came to a stop and slowly slipped his arm from her “I mean...I take it he’s gone now right?” He said a little nervously. (Y/N) stood up straight and pushed the hood from her head and nodded quickly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Yes, right. Sorry. Yes. He’s gone. I um...I just wanted to make sure he didn’t suddenly turn around you know? That’s all” she said in an unconvincing tone. But Bucky himself was too flustered to actually care that she was flustered as well.

“Of course, that’s smart. Well we made it back” he said stepping up to the door and pushing it open for her. She nodded and thank you and quickly hopped inside the building, Bucky following after her.

The walk up the stairs was an awkward silence. They felt like teenagers after their first ever date. Who says something first? What do they even say? Luckily for them, this wasn’t a first date, and they weren’t teenagers. They were fully grown, mature adults. But that doesn’t mean adults can’t get flustered in the presence of their crush...right?

After what felt like hours, but was more like five painstaking minuets, they finally got to their floor and walked down the hall, both briefly forgetting that they lived right next to each other.

(Y/N) stopped at her door and placed her bag of food on the floor to fish out her keys from her pocket. “Uh...you want to come in?” She asked whilst fiddling around in her pocket to find the keys. “I know it’s not Thursday but we didn’t really talk as much as usual...” her voice seemed to trail off as she finally found her keys and put them in the key hole before unlocking the door. “You don’t have too..”

“I’d...like to...” he said in a soft voice with a gentle smile to try and put her at ease even though he too was freaking out inside. She smiled back and picked up her bag before walking inside her apartment, he did too.

They both made their way into her small kitchen and he made himself at home by sitting in his usual seat at her white kitchen table and she began to unpack the shopping “Do you want me to help?” He asked her as he went to stand up but she waved off his offer.

“No no, it’s fine. There’s only a few bits anyway” she told him as she began to pack each item away in its rightful place.

“So uh...” Bucky began quietly as he scraped his metal finger again the wood table. “This ex of yours...what’s the story there?”

Bucky was a little cautious of his words. He didn’t want to say anything to hurt or offend her but at the same time he wanted to know what about the guy made her so on edge earlier.

“Oh uh...” she muttered as she pulled two cups from her cupboard.

“You don’t need to tell me if you want want to. Sorry..”

“It’s fine” she assured him “nothing really happened I guess. It was just a bad break up. He didn’t really take it well and for a few weeks after that he just kept texting me and trying to call me. He came round to my place too to try and get me back. He never did know how to take no for an answer. But about a month ago he finally got the message and stopped all contact with me. Seeing him today...I was just worried that he’d try it all again”

“He sounds like a real asshole” Bucky said flatly making her laugh a little as she went about making some tea for the both of them. “But in his defence, if I lost a girl like you, I’d struggle with taking no for an answer as well”

(Y/N) let out a nervous laugh and almost dropped his tea cup from the shock of his comment but she was a little more used to his flirtatious nature that would sometimes make an appearance when they were in her apartment. After he told her about his boyish charms back in the 40s she noticed how he would often slip back into that era. It was cute to say the least.

She set down his tea in front of him and he flashed her a “thank you” smile before wrapping his fingers around it.

There was a brief silence in the room. She was greatly over thinking is earlier comment. But so was he. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. He meant it though. But what if he had pushed the limit a little too far?

“What was the other reason?” She asked him, her finger nail scratching again the tea cup trying to avoid eye contact with him at all costs.

“Huh?” He questioned looking over the table to her.

“Earlier. You were going to give me another reason why I’m easier to talk to. What was it?”

Bucky’s muscles tensed as his fingers gripped the tea cup handle as he stared into the black tea she had made for him. “If I’m being honest...” he began slowly “I think...there are too many reasons why I find talking to you easier. But I guess one is that you don’t do it because you have to or it’s your job to. You do it out of kindness. And it’s...easier to talk to someone who’s listening because they want to. And yes, I get that Dr Raynor probably does want to help me but I also know that at the end of the day, it’s all for a pay check. But with you...you do it because you want to. Or at least...I think you want to”

“I do want to, James. I’ll always be around to ask if you’re okay. And to make you okay when you’re not. I care about you...”

“And...I care about you. Another reason I prefer talking to you is because...I like you...a lot. I just think you’re the most beautiful woman, and you have such a sweet and caring nature and a good heart that is wasted on me. But I can’t help but like you...” he couldn’t really believe he just said what he did. He wasn’t mean to tell her that. It was meant to stay a secret within him into the end of time. But there was a shift in atmosphere that just made it all slip out.

“You...you like me?” She asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah...” he said. There was a little more confidence in his voice as he admitted his feelings towards her.

“I like you too..” she too held a little more confidence in her voice as she admitted her returned feelings. It felt...good. Especially since she knew he returned the feelings she had harboured for him since they met.

She stood abruptly and held her hand out to him. He looked at it and looked up at her again before taking her hand. She pulled him to his feet and a little close to her.

He smirked a little as he looked down at her “you want me to kiss you or something?” He said almost proudly.

“Yes..” she said “but first...I want to know something”

“What do you want to know?” He asked her. She squeezed his hand and dragged him out of her kitchen.

She lead him to her bedroom and noticed the worried expression on his face when he looked at her bed. This was what she wanted to know.

“You don’t have a bed in your apartment...” She told him quietly. (Y/N) turned her body so she was facing him completely, he cautiously lifted his hands to settle on her waist.

“I know...” he mumbled.

“Why?”

Bucky paused but he felt safe enough to give her an honest answer “I...I’m...scared. Of them”

“What is it about a bed that scares you?” She whispered, her fingers gently trailing down his cheeks. Bucky didn’t answer right away, for one he was to busy focusing of the beautiful touch of her hands, and for another, he didn’t really know the answer to her question. But he could take a guess.

“Because I...I don’t think I’ve slept in one since 1943. And I...after everything I’ve done...I don’t deserve to lie in such luxury...” his voice was quiet and barely audible, had it not been for the close proximity they were in, she probably wouldn’t have heard him.

“James...” she laid her forehead against his and he instinctively griped her waist a little tighter. The comfort and warmth she was bringing him was something he didn’t want to loose. She was someone he didn’t want to loose. He felt safer with no one but her. For once he actually felt...okay. But he felt he was holding her too tightly, but if he was she was wasn’t willing to tell him that.

“You know that you have no reason to be afraid. You are changing. You are becoming a good man. You do deserve to live in luxury, even if that starts with sleeping in a proper bed. Maybe it is scary for you...but...if you’ll allow me, I’ll help you face it”

“Please...” he whispered with a nod before pressing his lips to hers.

05/04/21

Taglist: @lunaserenade @phoenixhalliwell @slytherin4ever

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Sebastian Stan #tfatws #marvel #fluff #angst #fanfic

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hanazou · 3 years

Note

Hi, could I request headcanons for chuuya with a s/o who loves giving genuine compliments whenever they see him, they just can't keep it inside for example whenever they see chuuya they go like"you are so beautiful" and some cheesy shit like that😩✋🏻

𝘾𝙝𝙪𝙪𝙮𝙖 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝘼 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧

Word Count : 1.4K

Shelf : Hardback

Genre : Fluff, romance

Note : of course u can darling. smooches xx 💗 he needs it to help with his abandonment issues anyways <3 i hope u enjoy this one ! I still need to practice for Chuuya, I'm not fluent with him as I am with Dazai and Fyodor

There are three approaches to observe how Chuuya reacts and behaves around you; his initial feelings, his first physical reflex, and how he adapts with your behaviour.

Chuuya doesn’t fare well with verbal affection before you start doing this with him. Your frequent compliments will soon stretch his heart’s capacity to be more flexible in both accepting and giving heartfelt compliments, but of course, it has to start slowly.

At first, Chuuya is definitely perplexed and transparently flustered.

If your affections with him start with something subtle, like “I like today’s cologne” or “That was manly of you” Chuuya is still able to afford to mutter a tangled “Huh, thank you” albeit not looking at you in the eyes.

But when it gets more intimate like “Your presence is always so comforting” or “I can always trust you to have my back” and cheesy things like that…

The first thing Chuuya thinks of is why the hell you’re so intent on killing him with embarrassment.

“Why did you say that out of the blue?!”

But should there be a reason? Can’t you just be affectionate with your own boyfriend?

When you say that to him, he stops working.

If your compliments are really, super, cheesy, the type that sends shivers down the bone, Chuuya’s face is a mix of confusion, bewilderment, embarrassment, and slight repulse.

Don’t be offended though, he’s simply not good at taking compliments.

Chuuya wraps his upper arms as if he’s chilly while he stares at you, shocked and dumbfounded, with a face that’s the physical manifestation of “what the f*ck?”.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

If it keeps going on and on for days, he just hisses and clicks his tongue while hiding his red face

There's going to be a stage when he doesn't know what he's supposed to feel, so he’ll resort to convincing himself that he's angry.

It’s ineffective and he becomes more turbulent than ever

All it does is make his temperament easier to poke at, and that doesn’t help with his embarrassment every time you compliment him.

Chuuya raises his voice more often, especially at you, but it doesn't last for long because of how wrong it feels whenever he tells you to shut up.

And on the contrary, the more he thinks about it, your compliments actually make him feel… good?

Yeah, good

His physical reflex is pretty transparent and hysterical. It’s really easy to see right through him and it’s not like he tries to deceive you by faking his reactions either.

After flaring his nostrils and widening his eyes, Chuuya backs off to gather himself together and to get some space--are his ears tricking him or did you actually say his shouts sound nice? Who even thinks of things like that?

He shouts things like “Stop joking around!”

But despite sounding frustrated, the way his eyes crease with embarrassment betrays his ‘anger’.

The way he bites his lips, his blue eyes bulging out, while laboriously breathing loudly, makes you want to tease him more to get more dramatic reactions.

There’s that tiny look in his eyes that pierces into you as if he’s asking you to say more.

When he's at his Angry Stage, his voice is louder than usual and sounds just as fierce and he can never strike a casual conversation, let alone look at you in the eyes.

Best he can do is stare at the top of your head.

While blurting shorter sentences “angrily”

That's the sure sign that he's just embarrassed, in case you're afraid you offend him.

When Chuuya loosens up, which happens by itself without your intervention, you can tease him more and he hides his face under his hat. He growls away from you after snarling at you to stop.

No more pretending to be angry since all it does is confuse himself more.

What if you still shout “You look cute when you’re grumpy!” when he walks away?

He literally walks up a random building to get to the roof to escape.

This is a perfect game of hide and seek.

Nothing childish or straightforward like chasing each other, but Chuuya actively avoids you whenever he can.

He finds refuge in his personal office but alas, you have a spare key.

So he goes to Mori’s office without any prior summoning and tries to strike a conversation with him there, a not-so-smooth one, but discussing future deals with importers does keep Mori’s interest.

Since Mori doesn't like being interrupted, whenever Chuuya migrates to Mori, you're barricaded from seeing him. Not for long though. Just an hour at the most.

When he sees Kouyou, he pretends as if nothing is wrong although there’s no way she fails to notice his embarrassment.

Each time you find him and give more (cheesy) compliments, Chuuyal runs away, and you’ll find him again to tease him. A full circle

If you drive Chuuya to his absolute limit, he pins you against the wall, his gloved hand shutting your mouth. Nothing suggestive, just pure embarrassment and stress boiling out of his ears.

“Will you ever stop!? What do you want?!”

Being partnered with Dazai for several years makes him think that you’re being tricky with him even after you told him you mean nothing bad

When you confess that you really are being genuine, his mouth gapes and he backs off with an obviously embarrassed “Are you kidding me?!”

Eventually, little by little, he gets used to it.

His eyes won’t widen as dramatically anymore and he doesn’t jump away in embarrassment. The grumpiness is still there but it’s cuter than it is hostile.

He responds to your “Good morning, handsome!” by muttering “Yeah, yeah, whatever,”

Chuuya actually likes the attention but he realizes this only after he’s exposed to enough of your affections to get used to them a little, letting the overwhelming embarrassment recede slowly to leave enough space in his head (It happens after he covered your mouth).

He’s not the person to be most familiar with spoken affection after living a life full of uncertainties.

Exposure therapy vibes.

It actually feels nice to have you transparently tell him that you love him. Not that he’ll admit it straightforwardly though.

He gets used to your lovey-dovey treatment for him little by little. His reaction will be the same except it’s much more controlled and less out of reflex.

He previously 'ran' away, but this time, he simply puts a small distance between you both and covers his mouth, looking away.

He previously protested loudly, now he just softly snarls, embarrassment straining his voice.

“Geez, don’t you ever run out of those cheesy words? Where did you learn all that crap?”

When his skin has grown thicker, Chuuya sees each of your compliments as an invitation to a competition on who can make each other more flustered.

He keeps your compliments and affection, recycles them, and throws them back at you.

For example, if you say that he looks dashing under the sunlight today, he’ll double the intensity of the sweetness back at you.

(That is, after thinking carefully about what to say. He's not the best natural flirt)

“Because you’re the sun shining on me, babe. I won’t shine without you glamouring first.”

If you gape with your eyes bulging out and face reddened, Chuuya smirks in triumph.

“Huh, you’re not that bulletproof yourself, babe, think about that before shooting at me,”

If you have a high tolerance for verbal sweetness like this, even for super cheesy lines, he’s determined to kick it up a notch to earn a reaction out of you.

He’s going to be a sweet talker in training.

He does all of those out of the petty reason to get back at you, but sometimes he doesn’t realize what he says until it’s too late in which he flusters himself.

If even that doesn’t work, Chuuya gets physical.

He pulls your cheeks, pinches your nose, squeezes your face, flicks your forehead (and is serious about it), or pokes on your ticklish sides.

If he finds your weak spot, there’s no mercy.

You can laugh until you’re about to faint and he won’t stop messing with you

"How does it feel to be on the receiving end, huh?" He asks so casually cocky while tackling you down.

You don’t realize it, but even though Chuuya’s self esteem isn’t the lowest, it’s not the highest either. He’s just avoiding that topic. So your compliments, no matter how silly or random, makes him feel slightly better under his own skin.

One day, Chuuya will ask how you come up with those praises so easily

If he understands how you do it, maybe he can do the same for you in the future.

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