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honourablejester · 2 years

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Okay, slightly more detailed and semi-thoughtful response to Episode 3. I’m going to do this by character because that seems sensible to me. Oh gosh. Okay.

Right. Let’s start with Patia. Because I haven’t really thought too much about her, but she finally stepped out and stepped up this episode. And, okay. Laerryn is still my ideal wizard, flaws and all, but I absolutely adore how Marisha approaches the Scribes subclass with Patia. The honour and responsibility of knowledge, the desire to be the one holding the key, the little orb that hoovers knowledge and memories and portrays them back to the world. On a more personal level. The loyalty, the jealousy, the edge-on approach to morality and honour, the need to write her own fate, the refusal to accept when she can’t. The viewing of everything through the lens of matching the Raven Queen. Mortal forms won’t matter anymore. Her pride, and how tactical it can be. Walking out looking put-together as fuck in the sure knowledge it will lure Lycretia to her. The real bond with these people, Laerryn her best fucking friend, opening the lock and using forbidden magic for Zerxus and Evandrin, not feeling she needs to defend herself to Nydas but offering her memories anyway. Patia is so shady, memory magic being slung like confetti, but she’s also so loyal and so proud and so determined to carry the people that matter with her. She wants to know. Laerryn wants to do, but Patia wants to know. She wants to open the door and look through. And she is smart and she catches things, but she views them through her own lens. She’s fascinating. Her voice breaking when she tells Zerxus his forgetting was his choice, not hers. The way her first thought was that Laerryn had somehow made Evandrin a god, because that’s her obsession, as much as the Leywright is Laerryn’s. The way she has to steel herself after Cerrit comments viciously on their selfishness, but then marches onwards anyway, spine straight. Of all of them, Patia is the most Age of Arcanum. The most beautiful and the most damned. And the first to realise it, through the tree. The first to fully realise what they’ve done. Perfect irony.

Then, let’s talk about Zerxus, since I’ve focused on him a lot. He’s so broken by Evandrin. So incredibly broken, as Patia’s reveal only hammered home. He made himself forget that he’d failed. That he’d failed. Not anyone else. There’s selfishness in him. He wants to forget the things he thinks are his fault. He demands everyone else’s secrets, but elides his own. There’s grief and desperation and selfishness in him, so much. But. He’s also … He is a redemption paladin. Because he gives so many chances, and instinctively. He backs down because his demand for truth made Nydas break, speak in a tone he’d never heard before. Laerryn is telling him how Evandrin died, Quay is panicking and telling her to stop, and Zerxus just asks her to give him a chance. And doesn’t fly off the handle and attack her. Later, when she’s on the opposite side of a fight from him and Nydas, his magic cannot mark her as an enemy, because his magic is instinctive to him and she’s not, she’s just not his enemy. Every single fight, he’s just trying to protect everyone in range. Even in the confusion, even when Evandrin’s right there, he’s just trying to pick his way through the morass with as few people hurt as possible. He opened his demand for truth by willingly failing his own save. If they had asked, before so many other things developed, he might have told them the full truth. Probably would have. And now his secrets are revealed, or about to be, in an apocalyptic way, and it’s gonna hurt so much. Because Asmodeus is here in the flesh, and he has Zerxus’ blood, and his devils will be honoured to serve Zerxus, and this just cannot go well.

And, on the subject of things not going well. Laerryn. My favourite mono-maniacal astronaut wizardess, this perfect lesson on the sunk cost fallacy, desperate to the point of absolute obsession to make everything the Leywright has cost worth it. It killed Evandrin, or as it turned out got Evandrin stuck in a tree, she’s been living in terror of Zerxus discovering this, she’s sold a decade of her life and her relationship with the person who matters most to her for this machine, it was for him in the first place, for him and for her pride, her need to see and explore and know and do, and it’s cost her everything, it will cost her more again, and to the very last gasp she’s trying to finish it. Because at this point it has to be worth it. There has to be a way to stop the betrayers without sacrificing the apogee and the leywright, because this is her one chance, and can you give your entire world for years, the thing that has cost your friend and your marriage, can you sacrifice all of that, for something out of the fucking blue that just shows up one day and attacks everything? But the thing is, she does. She fights it all the way down, but she does. She saw that Quay was afraid, and she let Nydas grapple her. All that calculation and semi-willingness to let the city fall and fury at the druids, and she still stopped. And then the fucking tree stabbed Quay and Patia, and she can’t lose anymore, and thus the world is doomed. She was willing to back down. But not at the cost of Quay’s life. Because none of this matters if he doesn’t make it.

And Quay. Fucking Loquatius Seelie. This fucking episode. Sam Reigel, fuck you so much. There’s one story in Exandria of a fairy coming through to this plane and falling in love. Setting himself up to take the fall for her. Lying to everyone, even their friends for her. Immediately scrambling for a scapegoat for the city, because she’s all that matters. But she isn’t. He’s been protecting all of them from the sort of reputational crossfire he fears. He listens to Nydas for Avalir’s sake. He’s going along with Laerryn, choosing her first and foremost, but he’s also arguing with her every step, playing devil’s advocate (or, in this case, mostly not devil’s advocate). He’s the first one to want to warn the world of what’s happening. In the midst of the confusion of the final fight between the party, when he’s released from Hold Person and doesn’t know what to do, he goes to help Patia. He’s been playing insight and deception against himself for Laerryn’s sake, because he’ll do horrible things for her, but his first instincts are mostly in favour of the world and protection in general. But his first methods are lies and illusions and sacrificing other people to protect the ones he loves. And, too, to sacrifice himself. If necessary. What a ball of contradictions and deceptively simple motivations is this man. He'll be the villain in her story if it protects her and gets her what she wants. He doesn’t agree with her, but he’ll do everything he can for her anyway. That’s … That’s a whole thing. Okay then.

And Cerrit … will not make the same allowances. Not as Quay, not even as Zerxus. He won’t forgive Laerryn the same way. Because, much as Laerryn herself, Cerrit’s motivations boil down to one very simple priority. Laerryn would have risked his children as she risked Evandrin. And Cerrit just flat nopes out. Leaves completely. He’s there with them, he’s willing to figure this out, but Laerryn is holding to her guns, trying to keep that ball afloat, and Cerrit just breaks. Because she would have risked his children. That was such a shocker moment. Cerrit, of all of them, whose been so reasonable and such a rock for the others. His breaking point is so simple and so sudden and so complete. He’s been rolling insight, rolling investigation, guiding them along, not pressing too many wounds, not pressing Nydas, but he presses her, because that’s the sticking point, and because he’s been sensing catastrophe build and if these people aren’t going to fix it, if they’re going to risk it for Laerryn’s dream, then he has to grab his kids and get them out. So he leaves. And … finds the body of his friend and subordinate, who died thinking of him and his children and helping them in a way the Ring of Brass hasn’t. Oof. There’s … something in that. The non-magical sticking together against and around the arrogance of wizards.

And then. To finish. Nydas. I’ve been enraptured with him this entire episode. Because he’s afraid, and he doesn’t know what’s happening, and to a large extent he’s just caught up in other people’s priorities, and then he’s the one who holds the line. He’s the one who snaps Zerxus back, he’s the one who defends the tree, he’s the one who nearly dies when Laerryn’s lair actions take exception to his defense. He’s so afraid. The prophecy has rattled him to hell. He’s leaning on Cerrit’s tacit approval for his clinging to hope and lies, he’s leaning on Zerxus’ friendship and protection and honesty, he wants this to be simple. To be clean. To be fixable. But when push comes to shove, he stands up to all of them, for the sake of something he doesn’t want to be true. Just in case it is. He will die for this city, and he’ll die for the world. He values these people, even when they’ve maybe betrayed him (Patia), he values them so much, he doesn’t want to hurt them, uses every non-lethal trick he has, but he still fights them. Nobody expected the merchant, the ex-pirate, to be the one standing there, holding the line, not even his player, but Nydas does. You’ve no idea how much I love him this moment.

And … a similar thing, with Nydas and Zerxus in particular, and contrasted with Cerrit, but one thing I’m amazed by through so much of this episode, is how much they are holding together. Like, this episode went to PvP, one of the characters just flat noped out, but they still … Secrets came out. Priorities were argued. Actual blows were come to. But nobody except Cerrit actually broke from the others, and Cerrit had an extremely understandable overriding priority, if doomsday’s arrived. And the others, they held, to such an amazing degree. Zerxus rolled with what Laerryn had done to Evandrin. Nydas understood why Patia had to compromise on his dreams. Quay listened to Nydas even through his devotion to Laerryn. Laerryn was relieved Dweomer hadn’t disintegrated Nydas. Quay ran to protect Patia. Zerxus couldn’t mark Quay and Laerryn as enemies, even with them and Nydas actively fighting around him. Laerryn backed down because Quay was afraid, gave up her whole dream for him. They held so much. Given the sheer magnitude of the secrets and revelations this episode, I was amazed how well they held. How much leeway they were willing to give each other. Like, even their arguments are to protect each other from each other, and they all instinctively swing if anything else threatens any of the others. It’s … their best and worst feature. They’ll all damn the world for their loves and loyalties.

Except, possibly, Nydas. You amazing terrified ex-pirate you. God I love him.

This was such an episode. Such an episode. I’m still only barely verbal. I love these beautiful damned idiots so much. How many of them are going to die the day after tomorrow? I both do and desperately don’t want to know.

I’m so glad I decided to pick up this little mini-campaign. It will be the death of me, but I’m loving it.

#exu calamity #exandria unlimited calamity #episode 3 #spoilers #reaction #mostly character babbling #the ring of brass #help

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bygiornogiovanna · 2 years

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Bellyache

How would he take care of his s/o when they have a really bad stomachache?

Featuring: Bruno Bucciarati

GN reader

Wordcount: 1k

A/N: I've been having really bad stomachaches for the past three days T-T. And the thought of Bruno taking care of me is making me feel better :(. Anyways, hope you will enjoy this!

You squirmed in your bed, groaning in pain while holding tightly onto your belly. At this point, you wanted to cry out in pain. It became unbearable.

You had no idea what caused your stomach pain, but you knew that you wanted it to stop. And you wanted it to stop faster. You tried everything. Everything. Pills, heating pads, diet, weird yoga positions, drinking lots of water, but nothing worked. The only time you felt at ease as if your insides weren't ripped out, healed, then ripped out again, was when you would lay on your stomach, with your pillow pressing on it.

On the first day, you thought it was just you being hungry since you didn't eat properly the past week, the work stressing both you and Bruno out. But, as days passed, the pain got worse and worse. You didn't announce your boyfriend about it, not wanting to worry him out, but maybe it was the time to. Bucciarati always found a solution to everything, but you thought it was selfish to distract him from his work as capo only cause you were sick. You weren't a five-year-old anymore and he wasn't your mom.

As you shifted around in your bed, groaning again, you heard a few knocks on the door. "Come in," you said and buried your face into the pillow, soon feeling a soft hand caressing your back. "Amore, is everything okay? I heard you groaning and moaning in pain and I got worried." your boyfriend asked and you turned to him, another pained sound leaving past your lips.

"My stomach hurts really bad. And I tried everything, but it doesn't stop! And I also feel like I'm going to throw up, but nothing come out. Please, make it stop." you cried out to him, holding onto his arm. Bruno sighed, softly chewing on his lip. He knew you, you probably already tried everything, so he didn't start making "suggestions". He knew you've been exposed to all kinds of pain since your work didn't leave you much of a choice and that your pain tolerance was a medium one so it must mean it really hurt. Not that he didn't believe you, he just tried to imagine it.

"Well, the only solution left is to go to a doctor. And since you feel this bad, I'll call someone to come here. What position feels the best?" Bucciarati stated, softly petting your hair in a comforting manner and you left out a small giggle at his last question. You knew he didn't mean it that way right now, but still. "Oh, come on now. What are you, a horny teenager? What's there to be laughing about?" the capo rolled his eyes and you giggled again. Your mood slightly increased since he came, even if the pain didn't decrease. He took your mind away from it.

"I'll go call someone and maybe make you a cup of tea." Your lover said but you quickly denied it. You couldn't eat or drink anything, except water. It was like your body denied being fed. You quickly explained to Bruno why exactly you couldn't drink tea and he nodded, an even more worried look plastered on his face. He quickly left and called someone, telling them to come as fast as possible. At first, he thought about calling Giorno, but he wasn't in town.

"Bruno" you called out, holding onto your tummy. "I think I'm going to throw up." You affirmed and ran to the bathroom before he could reach you. As soon as he got next to you, he quickly held your head and your frame. "It's okay, caro, it's fine. I'm here. Don't force yourself." your boyfriend whispered, holding you as you attempted to catch your breath. Finally, after several minutes of struggling, you managed to stop throwing up.

"Come on, rinse your mouth. But don't swallow." Bruno guided you to the sink, still holding on to you. "The doctors will arrive in a few minutes. Do you feel better?". You nodded, the pain decreased a little after this, but it was still strong. You felt relieved that it got better, and took a deep breath. You headed to the bedroom after rinsing your mouth, laying down, and hugging a pillow.

Soon, a doctor and two nurses came in, one carrying the medical bags and the other having the stand for the pain-reliever vial. You sighed relieved at the sight of them and your boyfriend. He gave you a warm smile and went to your side. "Y/N, she is doctor Ricci and they are the nurses, mr. Russo and mrs. Marino. They are the best in town."

You smiled at them and nodded in respect. "What seems to be the problem, sweetheart?" Miss Ricci asks while mr. Russo was taking out the vial, and attaching it to the stand. His co-worker, Marino prepared your arm for the perfusion.

You explained to the sweet doctor next to you your situation and what have you eaten these days and she hummed in approval. The woman started to slightly push parts of your belly, asking you questions about the pain scale. You winced almost every time and she hummed again. "I'm not totally sure, but it seems like a common case of gastritis. I'll have to go with you for the ultrasound at my clinic, but for now, rest a little. The perfusion should relieve your pain in several minutes."

Bruno caressed your hand, placing a soft kiss on it, and, as the doctor said, after minutes your pain started to slowly disappear. You felt your eyes heavy and, with Bruno's voice being the last thing you heard, you drifted off to sleep.

"They'll be fine, right?" Bucciarati asked, concerned and his friend nodded. "Yeah, don't worry. They will have to go on a strict diet and medication, but it will be fine."

"Thank God. I'll call you when they wake up and we leave to your clinic." He said and thanked his friend again. The woman just brushed it off, gathered her things, and left with her co-workers.

"My, my, amore, why didn't you tell me sooner? Why do you like to suffer alone?" He talked to himself while playing with your fingers as he listened to your soft breathing. "I promise I'll make more time for you..."

#jjba x reader #jjba x you #jojo x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba #bruno #bruno x reader #bruno bucciarati #bruno bucellati x reader #bruno buccerati #bruno buccellati #bruno part 5 #bruno jjba #vento aureo #reader #gn reader

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fuwaprince · 7 months

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Thoughts on friendship, shared experiences, swimming/drowning and my apprehensiveness

When I was kid at the public pool, I enjoyed swimming in the deep ends. There were usually other kids around who couldn't swim as well. Sometimes I would be GRABBED out of nowhere and I'd feel like I'd just been assaulted!!! I'd instinctively want to throw/shake these grabby assholes off of me UNTIL assessing what was happening and realizing that most of these "assholes trying to drown me" were actually just kids like 9/10 times who literally just COULD NOT fucking swim and needed help getting to the edge of the pool. I remember they wouldn't ask bc they were usually already coughing up mouthfuls of water 😭 sometimes a stressed out mom would apologize to me afterwards and try to explain that their kid didn't know how to swim yet and I would just be like omg no I get it!!! it's okay, are they tho?

Sometimes the kid would apologize. Sometimes it was their friend or their sibling. Other times they'd just be too panicked and leave without a word and that was okay too. Even though I was left startled, that was fine compared to how startled I would be to see someone not moving at the bottom of the pool.

My bro couldn't swim well either and sometimes he did the same thing when he was first learning to swim. Didn't say excuse me before just reaching for whoever was closest to him for support to get to the outer edges of the pool. Only focused on shallow, safer ends and clinging to the nearby edge. People got pissed but many of them understood he wasn't trying to harm them. No one punched him in the face.

I've been both that desperate drowning person and the pissed off bystander that gets pulled into someone else's stressful situation.

Today I listened to a pair vent about having to drop a toxic friend for threatening suicide. I listened to them dismiss a crushing amount of real compounding shit someone else was unfortunate enough to be going through in favor of reducing their ex friend's desperate grasping for life as a needless, selfish tantrum and an exhausting, painful emotional burden on them. Idk but to me it just felt like they lacked major compassion and that they weren't willing to tolerate the pain and toxicity, which is fair and good for them. Emotional manipulation IS toxic... And going through shitty things isn't a free pass to be a pain in the ass to all your friends... but if someone/a friend is drowning before your eyes and reaches out to you, regardless of how they did it, wouldn't it make sense for you to try to protect them? How rational could it be to leave them to drown (sometimes it is)? What's the point of escalating the situation for them before leaving?

It's one thing if you aren't able to swim very well. I wouldn't suggest someone unable to support someone else try to if there's a high probability that'll end up with two drowning people. If you can't, you can't. Can't hold that against anybody! But wow imagine cutting off and recharacterizing a friend as a vengeful asshole for something they probably couldn't help either. People go through all kinds of things outside of their control and we only know what drowning looks like on the surface. Some people have these giant weights pulling them down and from the surface others could never be able to tell just how hard they're trying to keep their head above water. It might look like they're choosing not to swim harder ig.

I got the feeling that the friends felt like it was an attack on them too in ways. Like it was a threat not against their friend's life but against their own first and foremost. They basically responded to the possibility of their friend's voluntary death like "why would they do this to me? why would they threaten our whole friendship? why would they threaten MY peace plus everyone else's? that approach is toxic and i know they're manipulating me to try and stay alive. so selfish, we aren't friends anymore".

I hate the implications that it wouldn't be okay to ask the person closest to you for a lifeline. What are we taught in emergencies? You go to the nearest place you think is safe and ask for help, right? That's so common and normally taught early on. It's a survival instinct. Yet

Idk. If I dropped all the people who went to me during stressful times instead of a therapist I'd have like 0 friends. Friends are supposed to be safe spaces you can go to if available... Literally what are friends for? It isn't just laughs and somebody to have lunch with. It's weird to think you'd drop a whole ass friend for that. It's weird you'd go on to talk shit about them and use dumping them as toxic waste as something to be proud of bc being reached out to at all is supposed to be interpreted as a testament to trustworthiness.

It's weird the pair walked up to me in the middle of me crying to say all that then followed it up with "tons of people come to me for support so I'll do my best for you if you tell me what's wrong". Like I started off saying I was apprehensive to talk and they made themselves sound like the most unsafe people as if it would convince me they were so nice that people felt good enough to be vulnerable with them. holy shit. I feel bad for their ex friend for not having their vulnerability protected. I feel like I 100% can't trust those people so I'm glad I didn't open up. I'm not willing to talk to anybody and everybody about what's going on out of desperation anymore.

I'm doggy paddling by myself sometimes and it's better that way. It's hard but it's better than clinging to someone who will treat me badly. Call me leary? I feel bad for people who don't know how to swim. I've been that person before.

#literally sometimes i forget how to swim too and what's a person to do when they forget in the middle of a pool?#idk the point is just be nice like even if you can't be there for somebody be nice in the ways you can be #i was crying and these ppl walked up and asked if they could be there and i said I was apprehensive #idk i had many thoughts listening to them try to convince me they were good people with the most wack story that ended up being a vent #i was a good listener but like idk i got a different point

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the-sun-and-the-sea · 2 years

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TBOSAS Thoughts (Chapters 4-6)

Chapter 4 begins with Coriolanus in the monkey enclosure at the zoo. He and Lucy Gray use this to their advantage to gain some publicity and give Lucy Gray more engagement from the Capitol. Something I really like about this part is it marks the transition from the mentality of ‘tributes are animals’ to ‘tributes are dolls whose purpose is to entertain.’ Neither is preferable over the mentality of ‘tributes are human’ but there is a notable difference. Lucy Gray was likely the first tribute ever to make the Games entertaining, and I think that’s so interesting to explore, especially when we get into how the Games evolve throughout this book alone.

Another point I’d like to bring up is the theme of children’s innocence throughout this chapter. We see the Capitol children at the zoo watching the tributes, and they are portrayed as young and innocent. Even Lucy Gray, who has every reason to hate the Capitol, treats their children with delicacy and care. Then later, when he’s asked why the Games are used to punish the districts, Coriolanus responds that it’s because people love children. I just thought that was an interesting theme to bring up.

Chapter 4 was also our first introduction to Dr. Gaul, who Coriolanus (and probably every reader ever) is unnerved by. It’s really interesting to see Coriolanus so disturbed here when we know what role she will go on to play in shaping his mindset.

Onto chapter 5, Coriolanus mentions the “soft orange glow of the sunset.” Just pointing that out because I liked the little Peeta reference.

When Coriolanus sees that Sejanus is feeding the tributes sandwiches, his immediate rationalization for the action was that Sejanus had some ulterior motive; he was trying to win the Capitol’s attention, or provide a resource that Coriolanus didn’t have in order to make himself look better. The idea that Sejanus is just trying to help people in need never even comes into play until Sejanus expresses it himself. Coriolanus just makes the assumption that Sejanus’ actions are motivated by ambition and the promise of success rather than basic human decency, because that’s primarily what his own motivations are.

Later, when Sejanus asks Coriolanus to give a sandwich to Lucy Gray through the bars, he replies that he “can’t treat her like it’s feeding time at the zoo.” Not because he feels morally responsible to treat her like a human and not an animal, but because that would not align with the narrative of Lucy Gray’s “specialness” that he’s trying to portray.

Another similar example is when Sejanus asks Coriolanus if he wants to trade tributes and get the District 2 boy instead. Coriolanus spends some time deliberating this; he envisions winning with Marcus and reasons that Lucy Gray doesn’t stand a chance. But then he considers what trading tributes would mean. We see some brief sympathy when he remarks on how difficult it would be to abandon Lucy Gray, but it’s immediately negated when he says that telling the audience would be worse. He cares more about how the audience perceives him than how “his girl” feels. But the most significant reason he doesn’t take Sejanus up on the offer is because Coriolanus has something that Sejanus wants, and he wants to keep it that way. It’s revenge for everything that Sejanus has that Coriolanus doesn’t.

The point of the previous two examples is that Coriolanus is doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons. He treats Lucy Gray like a human, and he refuses to abandon her, but it’s all fueled by strategic thought and a desire to be as successful as possible. What’s worse, if I remember correctly from when I last read this book, is that this will transition to Coriolanus doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons. Soon, he won’t be in the right anymore. He’ll just be selfish.

This also makes me worry for the movie. At this point in the story, it looks like he’s doing everything right, from an outside perspective. Viewers of the movie who haven’t read the book will probably be rooting for him. I hope they can find a way to express the fact that his motivations are corrupt.

Chapter 6 was a long one, so I’ll try to keep this concise. We’re back at it again with the animal comparisons when Coriolanus says that abandoning Lucy Gray would be like “kicking a kitten.” This seems to be mainly performative as he says this to Sejanus.

Speaking of Sejanus, he’s very outspoken about his anti-Games mindset during this chapter. The mentors discuss ways to make the Games more entertaining, but Sejanus is not having it, asking why people should watch at all. Meetings like these are some of my favorite parts of this book. At this point, the Games are primitive and barbaric, and Sejanus is right. Who in their right mind wants to watch this? So I can definitely see how the Games had evolved to become such a pageant in the original trilogy. This chapter introduces a few of the key components of the Games that we know: betting on tributes and sending them gifts in the arena. It’s so interesting to see how this all came about and how Snow played a role in shaping it.

There’s also a scene where the tributes and mentors formally meet, but it’s largely unsuccessful because most of the tributes are unresponsive. Coriolanus and Lucy Gray grow closer, and we see the beginnings of some concerning and possessive behavior from him.

The last scene of this chapter was shocking the first time I read it, and still holds some weight now. Arachne was being cruel by teasing her starving tribute with the food, and her tribute’s emotional reaction (although not the action itself) was certainly warranted. This book seems to be leaning heavily into the theme that people become what they are told they are. Treat a bunch of starving and disadvantaged kids as animals and that’s how they’ll start to behave. Also since we’re seeing this from Snow’s point of view, anything the tributes do is seen as barbaric because he already has that bias against them.

There was only one song in these three chapters, The Valley Song, so I’ll link that here.

Thanks for reading and feel free to share your thoughts!

#this is a scheduled post by the way #so if you leave a comment I won't be able to respond for a few days #I hope you enjoyed my thoughts on this chapter #tbosas reread #tbosas spoilers #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg

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phantomessangel · 2 years

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To be heard

You know it’s really funny to me when people tell me how confident I am in front of a crowd.

“You’re so unperturbed to just get up and speak. You never seem scared or unsure.”

And that’s the ridiculous part because inside I’m actually having an crisis and trying not to cry.

Inside I’m trying to push back all the emotions and the worries and fears and doubts and the ‘what-ifs’ that play gymnastics in my head because anxiety is a PAIN like that, right?

And for a long time, a very, very long time, I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to have that level anxiety. I didn’t know that it wasn’t a normal things to go through those hoops and have those constant worries plaguing you.

We just didn’t talk about those things.

I didn’t know that the doubts and frustrations that you feel didn’t have to be on loop in your head.

But what did I know about anything else if that’s ALL I knew to be the constant?

And life experiences, for varied reasons, lead you down interesting roads. They make you stop and force you to see things sometimes.

You learn hard truths about yourself.

Case in point?

The anxiety I’ve felt my whole life? Partially due to mistreatment.

My therapist calls it trauma and says that what I feel is valid.

And that’s *weird* for me sometimes. It’s weird to think about that, to believe that someone understands you and believes your experiences to be the truth and that they matter.

Especially when you’ve been telling yourself the same thing that others have been telling you for a long time too: that it’s all in your head. That you’re not as bad as you’re thinking, and that you’re just being overly dramatic.

Suck it up. Stop being a brat. Stop being so selfish.

The loop continues to circle through.

Core beliefs are established and those thoughts continue to plague you, long after the voices have stopped speaking and you’re left alone to think.

And think.

And overthink.

Always overthinking.

That’s the other thing I’ve learned. The other discovery I’ve made.

Apparently, I have adhd? Undiagnosed until now. Untreated until now.

Because I was a good student.

A quiet student.

A quiet person.

Shy.

I didn’t want to bother people.

I didn’t want to interrupt.

I didn’t want to make a mistake.

But...the more I’ve been thinking about it, the more I’ve put my thoughts in order and really tried to understand everything, the more I’ve started to question the ‘why’ behind some of those beliefs that I’ve had.

Why do I need to be quiet?

Why did I ever think I was interrupting?

Why do I always apologize?

Why am I afraid of making a mistake?

Of doing something wrong?

Why do I think I bother people?

Why?

It’s a complicated mess of anxiety exacerbated, possibly, by the adhd I never knew I had because I was never the hyper one, never the loud one, never the one to get in trouble.

I was the one who hyper focused on doing well. The perfectionist.

I was the anxious, good student, following the rules, but the one who never felt like they fit in for one reason or another.

Who was always on the outside looking in.

Perhaps it’s because of experiences with family and others, where I grew up, mixed in with this whole adhd thing I never understood and never knew about within myself.

But it’s had a lot of effects.

And I don’t quite know how to process things.

But something I do know is that I’m still dealing with the aftereffects of not being sure of how to speak up anymore, not feeling like I’m worth that effort.

That my voice still doesn’t seem to feel like it matters in many instances.

That who I am isn’t quite as important.

I think I’ve lost a sense of identity and confidence in who I am recently. I find myself turning inward because I feel like, perhaps, that’s the only place that I’m wanted.

I’m whining, I know. And it probably sounds selfish. I understand that, I do.

I’m just a bit reclusive. A bit shy again.

Not wanting to bother, if I can help it.

It’s hard, when you’re left alone, to find yourself as important in many ways. And it’s hard to see the good that you might be, when you’ve felt like an outsider for so long.

Sometimes, you feel like that outsider again, always looking in and wondering what it must be like to finally find that sense of belonging.

#writing #thoughts #personal #anxiety #adhd

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smokeybrandreviews · 2 years

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Sadistic Charisma

Finished constructing Prinz Rupprecht last week and i am pretty happy with myself. It didn’t take near as long to complete her than it did the other Priority ships i have in my dock and, thanks to the brand new Research Queue, i was able to stack enough Rupprecht Blueprints to get a decent start. The second i finished building, i was able to boost her DEV level to eleven. Obviously, i got her in my main fleet for the grind. I need to get the youngest Prinz to that level cap as soon as possible because, as she is now, i am a little disappointed by her stats. At four stars, Rupprecht has an A rank in FP. That’s solid for a Battleship, which Rupprecht is, but it’s a little disappointing considering we just came off Priority Four and the KMS ships there were mad overpowered. Obviously, Aegir is a Decisive so she’s already a whole ass problem but even August was something special. Not only was she one of those elusive KMS Carriers, but her AVI, the thing Carriers are known for, is rank S! Both Iron Blood ships in the previous Priority, both have S rank abilities that aren’t HP and that sh*t is wild to me.

I understand that Rupprecht isn’t a Decisive but if August can get an S in something offensive, why can’t she? Now, i am far from properly completing Rupprecht’s development so this might change in time. Her overall level, after about two days of grinding and a few dozen EXP packs, has her at eighty-eight. Obviously, her overall stats will increase as she closes the gap on that cap and you better believe Rupprecht is the next one up when it comes to breaking that one-twenty soft ceiling. While that level grind is arduous and still in process, I ave gotten her affection to max and put a ring on that today, actually. That boost in stats has gone a long way to making Rupprecht one of my better Main line ships and she still has a ways to go in terms of DEV level. I am okay with this progress. Plus, I even maxed out both of her available skills. Even though i still have such a long way to go and that she isn’t as powerful as i would like right now, i am still very pleased i have Rupprecht in my fleet. She is an investment, for sure, but one i am more than willing to put in the time. Plus, come on? She’s f*cking adorable!

In other news, i am loving this new update for very, very, selfish reasons. I do alright during events, rolled a Joffre on that last French banner, but the Shinano rerun was pretty good to me, too. I actually rolled two of her in the gacha but, more surprising, i was able to net myself a Shangri-la! Interesting enough, she was my other choice in the last Wishing Well. The other was Zeppy, for obvious reasons, so after i rolled the chibi Graf, i bailed. I didn’t want to waste anymore cubes. During the rerun, since i had already beaten it the first time, i had a ton of those Gacha vouchers so i figured I'd use them all. I think i started with twelve or something and, on my sixth roll with them, i landed another Shinano and then, immediately after that, Shangri-la. And not a single Wisdom Cube wasted in the process! With the update a few days ago, several new ships hit the Pool once again and i figured, you know, i got a couple of Cubes I'm willing to burn, let’s see if the gods are still kind? They were. Generous, even. It took more Cubes than i would have liked, around sixty, i think, but i netted myself Alabama, Aylwin, several f*cking Stephen Potters, and Baltimore! As you all know, i am an Iron Blood main so i don’t really give two sh*ts about the other Fleets. Eagle Union is probably the third most complete i have (kind of on accident) and, while i am more or less indifferent to everyone else, i do have a soft spot for them Yanks as i am one in real life.

Honestly, if Prinz Eugen would have been an Eagle Union ship, i would probably be maining them but my darling is a Kraut, so i am all about that schnitzel. That said, I'd be lying if i denied my adoration for Alabama and Baltimore. I’m a sucker for a dark skinned woman so ‘Bama fits right in with my South Dakota and Minneapolis. I’m a little bummed that i am still missing Massachusetts but we’ll see how that goes. In regards to Baltimore, i remember, way back before i decided to focus exclusive on KMS ships seriously, rolling on all the banners in an orgy of mild whaling, i made a run at Baltimore during her event and failed miserably. I did roll Intrepid, Cooper, and Bremerton, though, so adding Baltimore now, feels like a win, even if it’s substantially late. Still missing Reno but like Massachusetts, i imagine I'll have another shot eventually. Probably in a Wishing Well situation or something.

This brings me to the current event, Aquilifer's Ballade. I enjoy the ships in the Sardegna fleet but I'm not breaking my neck to collect them. Like, I don't plan to make a run at the banner at all this time around, mostly because I'm in it for the shop. This is the first Event since the PR5 ships have been released and I need me them Blueprints, man. There's thirty of those b*tches just waiting to be plucked and I am on it! I spent most of my time at work today, running through the first part of the event maps, tallying up, like, three thousand of those little Expo Commemorative Coins. Please believe I blew that entire load on those Blueprints. Anything for my darling Rupprecht. Also picked up Taihou's new costume, Sweet Time After School, because of course I would. I absolutely adore Taihou, she's easily my favorite Sakura ship, so it goes without saying that I would snatch up a brand new, live 2D ,outfit for her. At needs to be said is that I picked up Roma's extra outfit, White Heron of Darkest Night, because I f*cking rolled Roma on the first try! I cannot express how this was a throwaway attempt, ten Wisdom Cubes just to see what would happen, and it landed the only ship I wanted in the entire event! Didn't I say I do alright during events? All in all, the last few weeks of my Azur Lane journey have been pretty pleasing. Now, if only Manjuu would stop f*cking around and give my my goddamn Orthant rerun!

#Azur Lane #Aquilifer's Ballade #Prinz Rupprecht #Roma #Joffre #Shinano #Baltimore #Alabama

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smokeybrand · 2 years

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Sadistic Charisma

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lily-drake · 3 years

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Death

Death was nothing new in Marinette’s life. In fact it played a large role. Her friends and city had died a hundred times over. Her brother. Her funny, smart, loving, dramatic brother had died at the hands of a mad man. She didn’t think it was wrong for her to use the horse miraculous to visit her brother's grave. It was officially five years after all. He would be 20, he would have loved to plan out her 16th birthday this year. She sat down and read Pride and Prejudice out loud, only a few tears falling as she glanced at the grave every so often. She had also brought a bouquet of white lilies, statices, red carnations, and white daisies. Soft grass laid over the dirt, the sun gleamed above, and sometimes when she would lean against the grave it was almost like she could feel him.

Dark storm clouds began to cloud the sky, and she knew she would have to leave soon, though she didn’t want to. Dad would be upset if he caught her, though considering how many weeds she had to remove from the grave and how abandoned it looked, she doubted anyone had visited any time soon. Suddenly the rain began to pour down and it felt like the earth shook. She felt a great imbalance, but where, and how? She touched both of her ears and she could feel her miraculous still there, Tikki even poked her head out from her bag with a look of fear. A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as rain came pouring down soaking everything in sight. She looked around, and she kept spinning searching for something, anything that could have caused or been affected by the imbalance. She waited there for many minutes just waiting, when she felt the dirt beneath her feet begin to shift a little. She quickly moved away and watched as the dirt slowly moved and shifted. She felt sick, because the dirt moving was directly where Jason was lying in eternal rest. This couldn’t be right, this must be some mistake! Her brother had died, she had seen the body, it haunted her nightmares for so many nights. He’s been gone for five years! This can’t be possible without some type of wish.

The grass began to move and shift away, and a fleshy mud covered hand raised from the ground causing a scream to rip from her lungs. Her body sprung into action before her mind caught up to her beginning to help dig up her brother's grave, and when she saw the jet black hair covered in dirt and mud she knew that it was him. She heaved him out from the hole and stared in shocked horror as he just sat there staring at her. His eyes were the same blue she remembered, but they were so clouded. Fear, confusion, and nothing shown in his eyes, like he wasn’t even truly there. This must be a dream, it has to be, no, a nightmare. Her brother shouldn’t be back, he died, she saw his limp body in dad’s hands, even if Alfred and bluebird tried to stop her. But the imbalance was real, she could tell, and he was affected by it.

Slowly she raised her hand and hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into her hand, though his eyes were still clouded and void. He may be alive, but he wasn’t fully…alive. She tackled her older brother into a hug and began sobbing onto him, but just sat there, head leaning against hers. Pressing her ear against his chest she could hear his gentle heartbeat, and just for a moment everything seemed like it would be ok. Then she felt a sharp prick in her neck and the world faded to black.

________

Marinette awoke to darkness. She tried to sit up and felt her hands held behind her back being held together by something cold and thick. Memories flooded back into her mind and she snapped into awareness and looked around. It was dark, though there was a small light coming from a window far above where she could not ever reach. The walls seemed to be made of thick stones and there was a heavy iron door a few feet in front of her. Jason wasn’t there though, he wasn’t in the room, she didn’t understand. Suddenly the door opened and she looked up and saw her mother’s green eyes. Her panic grew again, how did she get here, was she captured too? She had visited her often in Paris. She was very vague about her job, and she knew it was probably sketchy, but could it be bad enough to be captured?

“Marinette, My Darling. I apologize for your treatment, I did not realize that you were part of this.”

Talia rushed towards her daughter and unlocked the chains. She was pulled into a tight hug that Marinette quickly returned. After a few moments she pulled away but held her shoulders gently.

“I must show you something, come.”

Talia quickly stood and helped her daughter to her feet and walked swiftly through the calls of Nanda Parabat.

“What is mom?”

Talia smiled at that, she had always loved when her daughter called her that.

“It’s a surprise, My Flower.”

A few more twists though hallways and they stopped in front of a thick wooden door.

“I want you to meet someone.”

The door was pushed open and there sat a small baby in a crip with dark black hair, tanned skin, and dark green eyes. Marinette gasped and covered her mouth,

“Meet your brother, Damian.”

Marinette slowly walked over and stared at Damian through the top of the crib. He silently watched and studied her without making a sound.

“He’s about 3 months old.”

Talia said, smiling happily as she watched her daughter run her fingers through Damian’s small tresses of hair. With a snap of her finger one of her shadows stepped next to her.

“Bring Jason.”

And with that order they were gone returning a few minutes later with a boy who was alive physically, but was mentally gone. She could fix that though, it would be the last resort if all else failed, but she could fix it. Marinette looked up when she heard Jason’s footsteps and her bright smile fell slightly into a small sad one.

“Jay-Jay.”

She whispered softly as she took slow steps towards the boy. She quickly ran and hugged him again. He no longer smelled like mud and he wasn’t wearing his suit, and he was….he was alive again! Tears fell down her cheeks, because she missed him so much.

________

Marinette stayed with her mom in what she learned was Nanda Parabat. She trained with Jason, but he was catatonic, just going through the motions blankly. It worried her, especially as she watched her mother grow more anxious. She cared for her little brother, and wondered if her dad knew, or if he would even care. She often looked at Paris news for when she needed to go for Akuma attacks, but if her host parents even realized she was gone. They hadn’t, nor had any of her “friends” apparently as they hadn’t sent her a single thing from the weeks she’s been gone.

Marinette knew that Nada Parabat wasn’t a good place, knew that the people were bad, knew that her grandfather was the head of it. He didn’t seem to care who she was, he just thought she was some nurse for Damian, and she was thankful for that. She knew that the Lazarus Pits were here, what they did, how they were made, how her grandfather used them for selfish purposes. She didn’t do anything though, she was mad at her father for sending her away, mad that he adopted a bee kid only a year after he sent her away, mad that he never talked to her, mad that Dick never fought for her or looked for her, mad that Jason was forced to wake up and climb his way out of his grave only to be practically brain dead, mad that her classmates believed lies over her, mad that her host parents believed them and treated her like dirt or an invisible object meant to seen and not heard, mad that Chat Noir would leave her during battles because she didn’t return his affections, and mad that no one cared that she was gone! So she trained as hard as she could, made sure that she perfected everything her mother threw at her. Took care of her family and made sure they knew how thankful she was for them and loved them. Then when she finally got a text from someone it was insults for being a horrible person and hurting Lila when she hadn’t been there for weeks!

She threw her phone at the wall and the crack echoed around the room. Her breathing was harsh and ragged and then the tears she had been holding back finally fell. Sobs wracked her body as she bit her lip to keep silent. She tried to take in deep shuddering breaths, but it was no use and the sobs came out. Her knees felt weak and she crumpled to the ground. The door burst open and she saw her mom there knife in hand looking around the room with swift deadly eyes. When she didn’t see any visible threats she kneeled in front of her daughter and looked directly into her eyes. Eyes a storming blue that flooded with tears and made her heart ache and her want to murder whoever made her precious daughter look so broken.

“My Flower, what’s wrong?”

“N-nobody cares ab-about me! No one cares that I’m g-gone. Everyb-body hates me, and I’m so tired of it! I’ll n-never be enough for an-anybody and I’m t-trying so h-hard to do wh-what everyone needs or exp-ects me to be!”

Marinette stuttered out between sobs. Talia glared at that and felt anger at Bruce. She thought that he at least checked in with her every once in a while. She had guessed wrong then. She pulled her daughter into a hug and let her cry against her shoulder.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You are perfect the way you are Marinette. You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re such a good sister, you train so hard, and you have so many amazing skills and talents. You are enough, don’t let anyone say anything different.”

Marinette gripped onto her mom and they both just sat there in silence as Marinette finally just cried. After who knows how long Marinette gently pushed away and looked her mom directly in the eyes with complete seriousness said,

“I want you to help me fake my death. If everyone wants to pretend I’m gone or wants me to disappear, then fine. I will. I don’t want to be seen anymore.”

Talia stared at her daughter in shock for a moment then gave her a small smile.

“It will be done my dear, you will be free.”

“Thank you mom.”

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @laurcad123

#maribat #BDBWM2021 #marinette dupain cheng #marinette al ghul wayne #talia sugar #class salt #tom and sabine salt #day 13 #death #sibling au #sibling jasonette #sibling daminette #damian is a baby #angst #fluff

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

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➳it's good to see you again ♡ ☾

in which y/n l/n comes home from a 2 year long mission to subdue the rest of the escaped death eaters and meets her best friend, fred weasley, yet again.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.5k

tw: mentions of scars, nightmares, mentions of the war

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. angelina and george

it's been a long day without you, my friend

and i'll tell you all about it when i see you again

it's good to see you again

y/n was sitting comfortably in the backseat of george's fancy car, earphones plugged in and listening to a song to drown out the sound of angelina and george talking about something they had seen on the news. her head was leaning against the window, her eyes drinking in the familiar view of london in nostalgia. it hurt her that she wasn't the only person who would see the beautiful city she'd known from the very beginning. and she missed it. angelina and george had picked her up from the quarantine centre after she had made a trip to albania for a couple of years with the rest of her auror unit to imprison the remaining death eaters. albania had recently acquired many cases of dragonpox, and so all the unit members had to isolate in a little hotel by the edge of italy. it had been a few weeks since the start of the quarantine and now she was zooming along a british highway, ever so keen to see her friends and family again. and fred. fred was her best friend. they had been since 5th year. perhaps she was harbouring feelings for him, perhaps she wasn't. and here she sat, curled up and watching the views, trying to decipher whether or not he'd be different. he had survived the war just barely. it would be acceptable for him to change. did he still have the millions of freckles dotted along his face? her face flushed just thinking about it. bringing her hands up to her cheeks she shook her head. chile, y/n, he probably has a girlfriend. it's been two years, and he didn't like you two years ago, he won't like you now. the thought alone made her frown. "what's got you blushing and frowning like mad?" angelina looked at her through the mirror in the front of the car. george whispered something in her ear and she giggled. "y/n, is this possibly about a certain fred weasley?" her eyes widened. "nope, not at all." "really? so you were definitely not thinking about the amount of freckles my twin has on his face? hmm?" "no! george, seriously?" she stuck my tongue out at him. "or his ginger hair?" angelina added. "no! you guys are idiots!" she folded her arms. "and she's blushing again," angelina sniggered. "stop!" "it's okay, he blushes about you way more," george laughed, eyes on the road. "stop, stop, stop!!!!!" "it is true." "no it isn't, okay? erm, i don't like him, he doesn't like me. we're best friends. you guys are gross." she resumed looking out the window, shaking her head. they had reached a pretty big house with two levels, with large windows that y/n would absolutely die to have and cute little bricks sticking out. "what? i thought we were going back to my parent's house?" "you wish." "who are we visiting?" "oh just a person i know from work," angelina said with a twinkle in her eyes. "okay. did we bring anything?" "just you," she replied, "me and george are heading back to our place. your stuffs at your parents." george nodded. y/n frowned, "okay." she bounded up to the door and knocked a couple of times. the door opened and she immediately began babbling off a greeting and an introduction without looking at the person. "i'm y/n l/n, and i understand you're from angie's work! it's nice to meet yo-" her eyes were met by chocolate brown ones, framed by so many freckles. fred lived in this place? "it's good to see you again, miss y/n l/n," he grinned and oh my oh my, y/n felt her heart skipping beats all over again. fred was worried when there was silence, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt arms wrap as much as they could around his waist. true to his nature, his cheeks turned as red as his hair. he breathed in the smell of her hair, the smell of her and oh he had missed her so much. "i missed you a lot," he mumbled, tightening his grip around her, "so so so so so much." "me too, freddie," there that nickname was, and it made him possibly weak at how pretty she was and how pretty her voice was. when she let go, he almost felt empty, and so he snaked an arm around her waist. "your place is so beautiful, freddie!" his secret was that he had bought it hoping that she would

live with him. he knew she loved beautiful windows and bay windows and balconies. "not as beautiful as you, lovely." and his eyes were graced by her flustered expression, her cheeks tinted the most delightful shade of pink. "but the windows! gosh they're pretty." "wanna live with me?" he dropped the question ever so casually. "are you sure? i've got an apartment set up and all so it's no big deal-" "no. i want you to live with me." "then your wish is my command, i guess. i don't have much stuff though." "that's fine! i knew you would say yes so i got a bedroom ready for you." she hesitated. fred looked at her. "is everything okay?" "i-i don't want you to think that i'm best friends with you because you're rich or whatever and i feel like i'm taking advantage of your richness and it's not right?" "you're not, okay?" she nodded, still hesitating a little bit. "if you really feel bad you can come visit me and george in the shop and do some type of customer service. you'll be paid." "am i paying rent if i live here?" she asked. "no, y/n, i own this place." "don't you pay land tax?" "yeah, but it's not that much." "nope, i'm paying rent or you're not paying me for the shifts i do. or both. take your pick." "i won't pay you for the shifts. is this really a big deal?" "yes it is! it's money and morals. that's a very big deal." "okay, fair." "gimme a list of all my shifts please." "nah, you pop in whenever you can." "okay, when's rush hour?" "hogsmeade weekends and thursdays." ☆ it was night. y/n couldn't sleep at all. she was lying in the insanely boujee king sized bed and the insanely comfortable sheets, and she still couldn't fathom why she couldn't sleep. maybe it was because she always slept with one eye open in albania. habit. so she was just sitting in her bed, looking around the room. she was tired, but she couldn't be untired. and it would be selfish to disturb fred. but he had said his door was always open. so she crept out and made her way through the corridors, finally stopping at a door which she hoped was fred's bedroom. it was half ajar, so she peeked her head around it. he was asleep, a very thin blanket draped carelessly around his body, his ginger hair messy and his chest rising with every peaceful breath he took. his room was big and simple, cluttered in the most fred way. she approached him, tapping him on the shoulder lightly. "freddie??" he opened his eyes drowsily, "mmm?" "i can't sleep." "'ave you tried countin' broomst'cks?" "i can't sleep." "'kay," he pulled her into his bed, wrapping his arms around y/n and tucking most of the gryffindor red blanket under her chin. it smelled like him, "this 'kay?" fred was shirtless. y/n was blushing. "yeah." "mm, have a good night, okay? i'm here, you're safe." y/n nodded, feeling the most comfortable she had in two whole years, cuddling up to his chest as she fell into sleep. sleep. she hadn't properly slept in two whole years. every night would be spent either patrolling or anxiously preparing for the next day. when she did get some shut-eye, it was broken and restless. but her dreams were stopped with visions of terrifying death eaters casting sectumsempra onto the auror unit. she felt the pain she had endured through a long time ago. it left a scar on her back and imprints in her mind. it was impossible to forget. she remembered yelling as she saw another auror drop dead. running, running out of the hellhole of the death eater's base. "y/n, y/n," fred was shaking her awake. she was shaking, tears were running down her face. she fervently apologised to him. "don't say sorry, lovely," he wiped the tears off of her face, "what was your dream about?" "t-the mission, the death eaters w-were cutting people up and they got me." "oh darling, why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked gently, cradling her head to his chest. "it, it comes out at the worst times." "well you're not in albania anymore, okay, love? you're here, in london, and you're safe. you're okay, you're fine." she nodded, "sorry." "don't you dare,

it isn't your fault. sleep, okay? i'll wait for you to go to sleep before i do, yeah?" she nodded. her head fell onto his chest and fred traced gentle patterns on her back, whispering small nothings in her ear. for the first time, it seemed like fred could watch her without repercussions. even with her tear-stained cheeks and wild hair, she was beautiful. and when he had stayed up for hours into the night and morning for this girl, this was when he realised. he would do anything for her. he loved her.

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 3 years

Text

Shotgun Wedding

MASTERLIST

Angel Reyes x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: angsty angst, language, s3 spoilers, (gif not mine!)

Marisol Reyes’s diamond sparkled underneath the grim lighting of the Mayans clubhouse. The diamond she always imagined resting on her ring finger. Y/N stared blankly at the beaming woman glued next to Angel. Y/N tried her damndest to conceal her heartache keeping a calm demeanor. As if cemented in the very place she stood, Y/N didn’t dare move a muscle at the abrupt announcement.

Her ears rung horrendously blocking out the unwelcomed laughter and cheers. Her blood simmered rising in temperature every passing second, but Y/N swore her heart stopped beating the moment Angel wouldn’t…couldn’t look at her. Tranq’s eyes searched the room finding Y/N all too easily, a familiar sadness rested behind her eyes showcasing her inner misery.

Nails’s smile continued to irk Y/N as her fingers wrapped around an empty beer glass.

Angel’s voice boomed through the room next; “That ain’t it..we’re havin a baby!”

Hoots and hollers broke out across the room celebrating the surprising news.

Y/N froze too stunned to glance up from the wood counter she was currently staring holes in. Ezekiel’s eyes followed suit; pity filled and genuine disbelief. Didn’t seem like big bro told him either. Suddenly glass shattered forcing Y/N’s gaze downwards, blood danced down her palm moving delicately towards her wrist. Two shards embedded deeply into her hand as her eyes bulged at the growing mess.

Tranq moved quick grabbing a towel. He hesitated sizing up the shards and their removal. His lips moved but Y/N didn’t hear a thing. A minor pinch resonated from her palm glancing down at the removed bloodstained pieces. Angel chanced a glimpse towards Y/N knowing the damage had been long done.

“Y/N?”

She merely nodded applying more pressure to the cut.

Her voice dead-panned void of any emotion; “Shit, I spaced. Sorry bout the glass.”

His brow scrunched upwards at the overtly monotonous tone. Meanwhile, Y/N busied herself wiping up the crimson liquid. Not more than five seconds later her back was to him as she rushed to the back room. Tranq tailed her closing the door behind him. Her chest heaved unable to catch her breath as she paced in circles.

“Say somethin, anything…”

Y/N stopped, her eyes pierced his gentle ones; “Did you know?”

Without hesitation, Tranq answered; “No idea.”

He sounded just as hurt as she did causing concern to spread throughout her shivering frame; “I thought you and Nails were—”

“Me too. Guess not.”

Unshed tears begged for release but Y/N fought harder. Her voice sounded broken, laced in pain; “I hate him.”

Tranq rubbed her shoulder soothingly; “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

Her shoulders deflated; “It’s not your fault. It’s fucking mine for giving him another god damn chance.”

“Stop. They made their choice. Does it fucking suck? Hell yeah, but it’s outta our hands for good. Don’t let that shit spread.”

“Your optimism is annoying as hell.”

His hand grazed over her chin keeping her attention; ““He doesn’t deserve you; he never fucking did.”

“And she’s a total bitch for blowing you off and running back to him the second he turns her damn direction.”

“I don’t want to hurt like this anymore, T. Angel will never choose me and that’s a hard pill to swallow. But seriously? Seriously? He fucking parades her around, proposes to her, and then knocks her up?! What fresh hell did I walk into tonight?”

“You and me both.”

Her fingers carefully grazed along the liquor bottles aligning the farthest wall; “I think I’m going to miss you the most.”

Confusion clouded his thoughts; “You—you’re leaving?”

“I have to. I can’t just stay here and watch him play house. Angel’s left me no other choice.”

Tranq closed the gap between them bringing her into his chest. Her arms wrapped around him trying to memorize every possible detail.

“I still have a phone, ya know. I’ll keep you in the loop, promise.”

“You are worth finding. Worth knowing. And undoubtedly worth loving. Don’t let him take that away.”

“You, my friend, have a way with words. This isn’t goodbye.”

“Just a see you later?”

The hallway light shone brightly as the door swung ajar. Picking up one foot in front of the other, Y/N stride didn’t falter instead focusing her energy straight ahead on the exit until an unwelcoming voice echoed out for her.

“Y/N, wait up!”

She began a light jog attempting to make a clean getaway. Heavy footsteps clogged about alerting her of another presence. Y/N fumbled for her keys but not before Angel Reyes caught up.

“There’s nothing left to say, Reyes. Your announcement made that crystal clear. Now go the fuck away.”

“At least gimme a minute to explain.”

“Explain what? How you told me you loved me TWO DAYS AGO and then proceeded to propose to your fuck buddy? Oh, congrats on the baby by the way. I hope you both burn in hell.”

Angel held her arm keeping her in place; Y/N fought against his grasp; “You’re a selfish, irredeemable shell of a bastard.”

“I know.”

“I love you, all of you so damn much. But I’m sick and tired of the bullshit. You’ve obviously made your decision, Gel. I gotta get out of here for a while.”

Guilt ran down his spine seeping into his stiff bones. Angel opened his mouth but no words followed. Not once in the last twelve hours had he stopped running at full speed. Now with the dust finally settling, Angel’s actions finally caught up with him.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

Her jaw nearly hit the ground at the audacity of this asshole; “I bet your fiancé is looking for you. Should probably head back.”

The words held a finality Angel wasn’t sure he was ready to embrace. His mind screamed at him to be honest, to tell Y/N she was the reason he got outta bed every day. But then Nails told him she was pregnant and the rest of the world became a blur. Angel never actually expected to lose Y/N. Now his reality had shifted, altered on its very axis and there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it. The car door creaked open and shut in record time. Blurred headlights were all that remained as the distance grew further and further between them. Crickets chirped far too loudly as the silence set in. It was time for Angel to let Y/N go even if his heart resisted.

~~~~~~~

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Boxer Levi & Coach Reader

author note :: i lost the ask for this, but this is not good at all. quite literally the worst thing i have ever written /srs anyways,,,,, anon said they wanted me to post it no matter what so i hope you do enjoy whatever this is,,, the pacing is non-existent and it has not been edited 👍🏼

requests are always open :-) i promise i am usually better than this,, anyway i may just use this as a rough outline for a fic 🤔

word count :: 5.4k....... yeah......

you and levi become acquainted with each other in university. it’s all very cliche if you do say so yourself. he steps in playing the role of good samaritan heroically saving your wallet and wordlessly he hands it to you even after running for the thief. the man doesn’t do as much as pant in exhaustion.

his stamina is…never mind that, his reflexes are out of this world

he expects a thank you because anyone else would expect at least a token of gratitude shown via words but the sentence you want to ask only ends up trapping itself in your throat

it comes to the point where he nods understanding maybe you have a sore throat or just don’t want to thank him at all

eyes flicking to his hands you immediately lunge forward taking your chance.

almost immediately you feel regret for holding onto the wrist of a complete and utter stranger without permission

“your stamina it’s great!” the man turns to you, he isn’t smiling but he’s definitely intrigued by the sudden change in behavior

and that’s where it all begins

levi’s horrible at getting to know strangers, even worse at forming bonds and connections. maybe that’s why he doesn’t warm up to the idea of having to deal with new people and new settings all at once

“i hope you’ve met your coach this is aman-” introductions are cut short by levi stubbornly interjecting in the middle of your sentence

“i have, but is she you?”

pursing your lips an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, you look around uncomfortably wondering what he means.

“well, no?”

“then i won’t box.”

?????

you don’t even know what to say??? here you were thinking maybe he would be a little more cooperative than this.

his index finger points right at you and he takes a step forwards. his shoes come into contact with yours and you find yourself holding your breath apprehensively.

“i won’t box unless it’s you in charge.”

that is when you and levi formally meet for the first time. you are but an inexperienced coach and he, an inexperienced boxer.

“i’m getting drinks you want anything?”

“oh no don’t worry i’m good!!” you smile at levi and he nods his head venturing off to buy himself a bottle of sparkling water

levi has had you coaching him for a few years now

really he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more than respect for you. respect for the way you stay back late with him to train, respect for the schedules you make him and he’s most definitely respectful of your boxing knowledge

sure out of the two of you he’s more physically capable but it doesn’t change the fact that he becomes frustrated when he’s told he has to spend a day without you.

it’s not like you think that levi cares or anything, nothing sappy like that.

he just probably hates, no, despises having to listen to anyone else’s instructions. he finds that they somehow sound demeaning or less sincere.

every instruction you give him has a reason behind it. you don’t beat around the bush and he’s stated before that he enjoys that he knows he’s developing his skill set and progressing when he’s with you.

the olympus ring - one of the largest boxing competitions known to man is approaching soon and if levi manages to place in the top two his career is set to sky rocket in no time at all

that thought makes you feel unusually nervous

worry gnaws at your mind and you wonder about whether or not he’ll replace you after the competition concludes. after all who wants a coach with little fighting experience? all you really know is from your family. your brother and father had been professional boxers years prior.

you have no doubt at all that levi will place number one that’s for sure but you really hope he doesn’t find a replacement for you.

you’ve never had much faith in your coaching and to be left behind in the dust hurts you a tiny bit but you never bring it up because you know what? levi progressing in his career will make him happy :-)

levi’s happiness over yours and it’s not good to be selfish you suppose >:(

“y/n.” he’s waving a hand in front of your face, you’re uncharacteristically quiet today and he’s caught on

“you awake?” he asks again.

upon receiving no response levi’s now waving his hand with more tenacity

“wake. up.” he flicks at your forehead and you stir a little finally coming to your senses once you see him leaning up above you.

he looks taller than normal from this angle and your cheeks blaze, he has a habit of walking around shirtless whilst training and doesn’t realise the effect it has on you

“i- yeah good totally good. just thinking.”

“thinking about?” levi kneels to the floor looking you in the eyes and your mind falters wondering when it was he began to sit so close to you. it feels like it was just yesterday when the two of you used to eat lunch separately out of embarrassment.

the silence stretches for a second too long and his eyes narrow suspiciously leaving you to think on your feet

“i well, you have a press conference soon and i have to think of transportation and-”

“coach. i can deal with that.”

you’re a little stunned when he says that because he’s never tried to take away from your responsibilities in the past. is this a hint that he no longer wants you around?

“but it’s my job?” you reply back feeling threatened

“but you’re always doing it. i can figure it out this once.”

without even hearing the rest of what you have to say he stalks back towards his punching bag leaving your chest empty

he’s definitely thinking of replacing you is what you think

really this should not be getting you worked up.

you’ve known levi for years, you should have faith in the fact he trusts you but you find yourself indulging in self doubt more often than you intend to

guilt fills you as you scroll through the multiple job listings in front of you but you have a justification. this is your lifeline, you can’t afford to lose your source of income and it’s best to be prepared

however there’s no real amount of preparation that can get you used to the prospect of not seeing levi every day

he’s sort of just made a space for himself in your daily routine

chewing at your bottom lip you can’t get through one job listing without thinking about him and you shut your laptop down thinking tomorrow will be a better day and you’ll check back in then

why does levi even matter?? he’ll officially be an ass when he dumps you of your position?? who cares about him???

but that doesn’t stop you from caring and now you’re hunched over your closed laptop trying to understand what it is that’s making you feel this way

maybe it’s the whole attachment you have with him??

he is the very first person you’ve ever coached that’s true

he’s made you proud and allowed for your name to get out there in the boxing world

maybe that’s what’s holding you back from looking into other jobs

but that reason doesn’t make much sense

you should still be frustrated with him.

AND

you most definitely should not care about how he’s doing OR worry about who’ll patch him up when he ends up stupidly injuring himself during practice (he does that a lot)

“why do i care so much for him?” you type into google thinking there’s no person on this earth that can help you with this predicament now

honestly at this point asking AI is probably going to have to be your only reliable option

tapping on one of the first links you hope to find your answer

“what happened? yeah, you had sex?” pops onto your screen and you tap off as quick as possible.

no. you did not have sex. oh god, you haven’t even touched levi much. the most you’ve done is lace your fingers with his and offer him a hug

are you meant to have… had sex???

is it wrong for you to feel that way withou-

okay enough. this has got nothing to do with sex and your feelings are still valid. maybe you are right and you’re attached to him that’s it!!! right?

scrolling further down you nearly give up until you reach another link titled “the science of caring for those who don’t care for you.”

rolling your eyes you still hesitantly tap praying you find some sort of answer

and an answer is what you find that’s for sure

staring you right in the face in bold letters

1. you feel responsible for that person

not really, he’s very independent.

2. the person is a family member

absolutely not

3. you could be romantically attracted to the person in question

…….

romantically interested?? no. that’s wrong. not true. incorrect. not right. just not real. you are not romantically attracted to levi

,,,or are you?

that does explain why he makes you feel jittery, it explains why you shivered the one time he engulfed you in a hug at his first championship

it also explains why you feel burning jealousy when a celebrity shoves their number into your hands asking you to pass it onto levi. they don’t even look at you like you’re a human being. you’re just a messenger pigeon

they’re worlds away from you. you forever stuck in your tracksuit and them - those beautiful models in skintight dresses and heels to match are stuck in a world where everything they want is handed to them. that includes men

you know it’s not their fault and you’d kill to be like them too but you guess the whole sweaty tracksuits and boxing daily has just become your niche

nonetheless levi is a man. a popular man.

and he sure as hell has no romantic interest in his clumsy, uncoordinated coach

sighing you huddle yourself into a ball choosing not to think about it anymore

but you know you’ve already come to your conclusion

you like levi ackerman more than a coach should

and it’s taken you years to take notice of it

when you became a coach you never really thought people would talk about you much

you were clearly very wrong about that. you and levi are both hot topics on discussion forums and boxing panels. luckily for you levi finds no entertainment in such forms of boxing and so never glances at them

he’s completely unaware of all the online comments. to be honest you’re happy he’s oblivious to it all. he doesn’t deserve to deal with spiteful, mean spirited jabs

you’re less like levi and find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news articles and boxing q&a pages. it’s interesting to see what people have to say on social media

but these days all the searches for your name are filled with “replaced soon?” and “not good enough to coach ackerman?”

the headlines are cruel jokes but again you’re willing to handle taking the brunt of the press’ force instead of levi. yes, even if it hurts you.

“what you reading?” levi peers over your shoulder and you nearly throw your phone away to the other side of the room but instead you choose to grip at it tightly and shove it into your chest

you grin hiding the screen away. “something private.”

levi doesn’t look like he believes you, he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you need anything because frankly you do look slightly distraught but he decides against interrogating you

“oh okay. i’ll be back. you want anything from starbucks?” he asks.

at that moment you wish he asked you if you wanted to talk about what had been bothering you

but you know even if he did ask you’d deny his help

the olympus ring’s official press conference is one in which many rivalries will be established

levi has always had an issue with zeke jaeger one of the top contenders in his division.

it’s a long story......

one which includes the purposeful injury of a mutual friend in order to sabotage his career

you remember it all, the way you had to physically hold levi back from pouncing at the man. it had been one of the most difficult things you had to do

erwin was your friend too and you wanted him to receive justice. part of you wanted to let go and allow for levi to attack zeke with his all but you chose to be levi’s coach before you were erwin’s friends

if he wasn’t going to make good decisions for himself you would do it for him

if you had let him go through with that rash choice he could have risked suspension and suspension could completely halt some careers. suspension almost always led to shorter longevity and motivation

and so that’s why you always shift to levi’s side when he walks past zeke. there’s no way you’re taking a chance. knowing levi he could lose his cool and completely pummel him with an upper cut

so that’s what you’re doing right now. trying to edge levi to the other side of the hall but he does no such thing.

“coach, do you have to be so cautious with zeke?” he finally asks with a bland look on his face

you wince a little when he doesn’t use your name and it looks like he notices the reaction. he makes no commentary on it

“this is my job. let me do it properly.” you explain nudging him to the side so your path doesn’t coincide with zeke’s

levi looks at you poking a tongue in his cheek clearly not amused nor happy

“i’ll do what i want.” and with that said and done he walks on ahead. you take note of the fact that despite saying he’ll do what he wants he does in fact comply with your instructions and walks in the opposite direction and into a nearby convenience store

sighing you rummage through your backpack trying to find your meds

your head has been pounding since you’ve arrived and you hope to fit in at least one nap

looking up to survey the area the street is clear and there is no sight of zeke. you feel at ease at that discovery, not only does he cause you discomfort but he’s a general displeasure to interact with

his tuft of dirty blonde hair irks you to no end and you’re up for no conversation with the man who who ended erwin’s career

he’s the last person you want to ever initiate small talk with.

but fate is a weird thing is it not? because as soon as you’re sure you’ve escaped the clutches of zeke jaeger you hear a chuckle behind you

“well if it isn’t levi’s side piece?”

a hand lands on your shoulder but you shake it away immediately

jaw clenching you try to ignore zeke as best you can but he continues to taunt you

“imagine if levi got an actual coach and not a whore to fuck in the gym?”

turning to face him you see him midway through shrugging his shoulders

believe it or not there had been a time where you and zeke were good friends. a time where he hadn’t let fame get to his head.

so for him to refer to you like that does make your heart sting a little

“cat got your tong-”

and there it is

the long overdue punch

it hits him right in the jaw without warning and you’re tripping trying to stop levi - who might you add has shown up from NOWHERE.

you thought he was shopping?????

“you know if i needed to swing at him i could have?!?” you whisper shout at him completely infuriated that he’s possibly thrown away his chance of competing

“you weren’t going to though.” he says plainly and you can’t deny it.

you don’t have it in you to swing at zeke.

levi doesn’t choose to inflict more pain on his opponent and instead kneels beside him leaning by his ear

you don’t know what he whispers - you’re completely out of ear shot but it’s not even thirty seconds later till levi rises and saunters away seeming content

shooting zeke an apologetic look for the over the top beating you’re surprised to see him look...regretful?

whatever levi said you wonder what it was

it’s been a solid fifteen minutes of you walking behind levi

his back is all you’ve seen so you have no idea about his mood and it’s not that you’re intimidated or anything but peering in just to look at his face is a little odd so you choose to stay a suitable distance away

“y/n.” he says finally when he reaches his hotel room.

fishing through your backpack for his keys you’re surprised when he holds your wrist to stop you

“listen to me.” he sounds calm but slightly on edge

“has zeke always said those things?”

twiddling your thumbs you awkwardly laugh

“well no, we used to be friends. remember how i told you ages ago? he was so cool back then and yeah i miss that zeke :-) but i don’t know what’s up with him.”

you’ve never really told anyone about how you feel about zeke’s hostility so you’re getting KINDA emotional right now thinking about the friend you miss

“i mean to ask, since you started coaching me has he always said that?”

“it was a bit before that but yeah. it’s no big deal at all. people change, zeke changed. i can’t do anything about it.”

moving to find his room keys again you don’t expect for him to hold his grasp

looking up at him there’s a look of simmering anger on his face

“why did you never tell me he said that about you?”

running a hand through your hair you’re only getting anxious having to deal with this in the middle of a hotel hallway

“levi. everyone says that about me. me and you are always together, all sorts of stupid rumours spread.”

“so why do you have to deal with all the malicious comments?? it’s unfa-”

“levi, the world has never been fair.”

handing him his keys he looks between you and them. he’s deciding if he wants to continue with his questioning

ultimately he decides he’s heard enough

a few hours have passed since the incident. neither you or levi have had the courage to come out of your separate rooms to discuss anything

you know you’re going to have to break the quiet and go through his possible press conference questions with him. even if you don’t want to this is your job after all.

so that’s how you end up sitting cross legged on his bed in your pyjamas. levi’s still in the shower so you’ve welcomed your self in. it’s common practice between the two of you to do so

after the one time he walked in on you naked…there’s practically nothing to hide from each other

scribbling a few ideas down onto your notepad you’re curious of what the press have in store for him this time

“yes exactly my thoughts” the sound of levi’s voice is coming from the bathroom, you suppose he’s had to take a business call and think nothing of it

“y/n?” he scoffs and you assume at first he’s calling out for you but then things take a turn for the worst

“sometimes i think about not having y/n coach me that’s all… there’s nothing wrong with that?”

oh.

so your suspicions were correct.

glancing down at the interview questions in your lap you jot down a note at the bottom

hey couldn’t stay for long but try to review the press conference questions on your own if you have the time! :-) much lov good luck, y/n !!!!

and then you retreat.

you don’t know if you make it up but you swear you hear knocking at your door during the night. you aren’t too sure but whatever it is disturbs your sleep.

stretching outside of your room the next morning you’re drowsy and beyond exhausted. you don’t even notice levi come outside.

one of his knuckles is rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. has he not slept well?

“i tried to wake you up but i guess you were asleep?” his statement comes out as a question. you’re not used to levi exhibiting much emotion at all and right now he seems unusually inquisitive.

“i was sleeping.” not even sparing him a second of your time you give him a rehearsed smile and walk off towards the hotel cafe

you can’t find the energy to even look at him

the hall is lined up with barricades to prevent possible assault or injury and you’re behind the stage with levi

the two of you have yet to say another word to each other since this morning. levi’s buttoning his shirt up and you’re looking around for his necktie. the least he can do after yesterday’s confrontation with zeke is to look presentable

“tie?” he asks over his shoulder

throwing it at him you hear a grunt of annoyance. he must have disliked that.

“can you help me with my cuff links?”

breathing out of your nose you feel anxious. you’ll have to get really close to him to do that.

but again you have to.

you take them from his hands and stand in front of him. you don’t really know how to go about this, what way is there for you to appropriately position yourself?

he’s sat on a backstage bench and checks the time on his phone “we’ve only got a few minutes left.” he’s clearly requesting that you hurry this up but you can’t seem to do it you’re completely frozen in place

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks

“nothing.”

he doesn’t have to know you know

“something’s wrong.”

“we’re in a hurry it doesn’t matter.” yanking him by his right sleeve you slot one of the cuff links through the slits in his shirt.

levi silently observes you fiddling with his sleeves, you can feel his stare burn into you. even as you’re moving onto the opposite side you can see from the corner of your eye that he hasn’t stopped staring

“was it something i said to you?” he asks again

a silence drags between the both of you and you debate on whether or not you’d like to enlighten levi with the information you obtained yesterday night

“more like something you didn’t say.” you finally respond.

thrusting his arm back at him his hand lands onto his lap and he opens his mouth to respond only to be cut off by an announcer

“THIS YEARS OLYMPUS RING CONTESTANTS MAY ENTER.”

crowds can be heard cheering outside but levi still hasn’t ripped his eyes off of you

“go on, maybe you’ll find a new coach after the press conference.” your bitter smile tells him all he has to know and his face visibly drops realizing what has happened

“i–”

“mr ackerman to the stage. i repeat mr ackerman to the stage!!”

he’s torn between staying behind and explaining himself or leaving to head towards one of the most important press conferences of his life

his teeth tug at his bottom lip as he looks between you and the entrance to the stage

“go levi.”

and he does.

levi’s sat on one of many chairs on the panel, he gulps taking a sip of water to calm his nerves. he’s not even nervous about the press conference, that can wait. he doesn’t know how much you’ve heard and how much you’ve misinterpreted what he’s said

he finds it weird at first that he’s even worried because you and him have a professional relationship

but then he has to stop himself from smacking the back of his own head. he knows that much isn’t true, hell if it was a strictly professional relationship he wouldn’t be walking around shirtless to get your attention

he wouldn’t lace his fingers with yours when he was nervous either

he wouldn’t let you tend to his injuries and scold him if this was about being professional, he doesn’t tolerate being scolded by anyone but if it’s you he’ll take it

when it’s you scolding him for fucking up one of his fists it feels okay, it feels right. he feels warm inside knowing that you have to care for him if you get that angry

he sighs feeling exasperated waiting for the last person to join the panel and get this question and answers segment over and done with

zeke makes his obnoxiously late appearance but levi doesn’t have it in him to roll his eyes. evidently he’s still stuck on you and thinking about apologizing as soon as this is finished

zeke sits right next to levi and some members of the crowd whisper amongst themselves

“have they made up?”

“think there’s gonna be another brawl??”

“i hope not they’re both my favourites…”

one of the reporters right in front of the stage but behind the barricades is the first to speak

“as we all know there has been an unmistakable sense of tension between two of the most promising contenders this year. mr ackerman and mr yaeger. would you like to put the rumours at rest?”

the question makes levi clench his jaw, zeke rolls his hands into two fists feeling just as frustrated. this is boxing not a reality tv show who cares what the terms of their long broken friendship are?

zeke nudges levi’s knee with his and levi returns the movement.

for now they’ll call a truce. it seems that both he and zeke have more pressing matters to attend to

“me and levi are bros. i’m frankly upset such a rumour started in the first place!” the crowd is mumbling again and the reporter himself is stunned by the unexpected response

“i admit that a fight which some may have saw yesterday was my fault. i had made some inappropriate comments towards his coach to get at him. it was a malicious move on my part and i hope people don’t think him and i are mortal enemies because of this bump in the road.”

zeke is so well spoken when he wants to be that levi feels self conscious sitting there having said nothing.

“mr ackerman? would you like to comment or?”

levi’s eyes light up, this is an opportunity to have you hear him. he doesn’t have to wait to explain when he can throw hints right now. you may be giving him the silent treatment but you wouldn’t miss this press conference for the world

sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat levi looks directly into one of the cameras pointed at him. he’s sure you’ll be able to see him from backstage.

“me and zeke have no other disputes apart from that i assure you. i simply value my coach greatly and so i acted rashly yesterday.”

the reporter nods along feeling pleased with the answer.

a few more questions are thrown around to the other contestants, levi sits there bored out of his mind until at the last minute before everything is just about to wrap up he’s asked a question once again

“regarding your coach, have you thought of a replacement if you win the championship?”

levi presses his lips together not understanding the question

“why would i replace my current coach?” where on earth has this question even come from??

“rumours have been flying around regarding lack of experience and the fact you’re outgrowing each other now. it’s all over boxing discussion forums.”

your hands are embarrassingly shoved into your pockets as people pass behind you backstage offering you pitiful looks. maybe wearing your bright pink team ackerman tracksuit wasn’t the best choice because everyone can hear what’s going on up front

levi’s memory flashes back to the number of times you hid your phone behind your back and awkwardly chuckled saying nothing was bothering you. he understands what you were hiding now

his mouth twists into a scowl, he knows you’re a few meters away listening to all of this and hearing it coming out of a stranger’s mouth is probably upsetting you

“i plan to stick with my coach till the day i die.”

you sit up not believing what you heard, it entirely contradicts what you heard last night

some journalists are jotting down notes, members of the audience are leaning forward listening intently

“well, why is that?” the reporter presses on

levi twirls a pen around in his hands staring off into the crowd.

“i don’t think anyone else could tolerate me.

you bite back a laugh because you know that’s true :-)

“they’re a person who saw potential in me when no one else did.”

he chuckles to himself. “your stamina it’s great!” his witty imitation of you is rather accurate

“that was the first thing coach ever said to me.” he pauses allowing himself to reminisce.

“but i did want to drop my coach the other day.” he admits.

hearing him confess to it should make you mad, you should be pissed off right now but you can’t manage to feel that way at all

“i said it because i wanted them to relax. i never really understood the magnitude of the criticism they were receiving until recently.”

levi’s staring directly at the camera and his eyes pierce into yours, it’s as if he’s actually looking right at you

“i’d be lost without them, so i want to say to the one person rooting for me backstage, thank you for everything you do for me :-)”

you’re covering your face with your hands feeling the blush creep up your cheeks now. GOD what is he doing??? you may as well be the same colour as your tracksuit, you’ve never heard him be this sentimental in his entire life

“so no, i won’t be replacing my coach any time soon. if anything i should worry about my coach replacing me.”

levi ackerman...

he’s a HUGE idiot if he thinks you’ve ever thought of seriously replacing him

levi presses his arms against your sides when you’re both alone and in the solitude of his hotel room.

“i’m sorry for thinking you wanted to fire me.“ you mumble it into his chest feeling much too embarrassed to look up at him and say it

“also i may as well say this now but i have a fat, massive, huge crush on you “

after that you awkwardly laugh to yourself. you both kinda stare at each other and you’re meant to regret telling him how you feel right now but you don’t. having that weight lifted off your shoulders feels amazing.

"you don’t have to like me back or anything and i know you don’t like me back obviously you probably like that one actress- what was her name?? the one with the long black hair she gave you her number at a fundraiser dinner. you’d both look cute together, have i said that??”

levi gives you a blank look

“i threw her number away.”

you’re open mouthed feeling completely shocked, she’s gorgeous??

“HUH?? HELLO WHY? LEVI ACKERMAN, HAVE YOU EVEN SEEN HER??”

“i have but is she you?”

the all too familiar words from years ago ring in your ears

nostalgia hits the both of you in waves and levi takes you in for another hug. your heart hammers in your chest and with your face pressed against him once again you can feel the irregular beat of his heart too.

that is when you and levi formally meet for the second time. this time you are but an experienced coach and he, an experienced boxer.

:-)

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alvfr · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Hotch

Gif by the lovely @dudeitiskarev

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+, minors DNI Words: 3.9K (look at me writing something shorter than 15k, huh?) Warning: Semi-public sex. Anal play (fem receiving). Love. Description: A short version of Hotch's POV from Chapter 1 of Bittersweet ("Accidents" Part 5). Link to the full series in my masterlist - will probably make most sense if you’ve read those first 💕

(Warning: Very NSFW below the cut! 18+)

Bittersweet Hotch

There were a lot of reasons why Aaron loved you.

The bigger things, of course, such as your intelligence, your sharp humor, and your heart. Your unbridled compassion for the whole world, however undeserving at times, where Aaron occasionally filed himself in the latter category. Just occasionally though, not all the time anymore. Not after you had made it so blatantly clear how good you thought he was and he found himself striving to live up to those expectations. Surprisingly, it worked.

So yes, the bigger things were almost self-explanatory for why he loved you. Why anyone would love you, really, if they got the chance. Then there were all the little things. Small drops accumulating all the time, like water on a mountainside patiently eroding the seemingly impenetrable rock. One drop after the other until the dam broke and Aaron finally realized he loved you, even if he had done it for some time already. How you hummed to yourself if you thought no one was around, how you always stretched right after waking up, and how you lit up at the sight of him without noticing it yourself.

It was subtle, of course, especially when you were at work. But after Morgan had deftly pointed it out to Aaron — who had asked how the infamous bet started — it was impossible to ignore. He could see how other people on the team had picked up on it. It sometimes made it unbearable to maintain the rigid professionalism you had agreed on at work because now Aaron noticed it all the time. Whenever you walked into a room, you would seek him out first. A small glance, maybe a split second at most, but always there. At home, in more relaxed surroundings, you dropped your guard down further and he could see how your pupils dilated when you caught his eye. And lately, you got that small smile on your lips too, a smile that had Aaron convinced he would do absolutely anything for you.

It was that smile of yours that had made him bold enough to say those three words for the first time back at his kitchen. After that unsub clocked you with a two-by-four and Aaron had to physically restrain himself from beating up a local SWAT officer. Your reaction to those three words had not been as he hoped for, at least not at first, but it had improved quickly. He had come to realize that although you were — like him — keenly intelligent and —also like him — profiled people for a living, you were just as stupid as he was when it came to love. Just as human and vulnerable. There was something incredibly reassuring about that and in all honesty, it just made him love you more.

It meant he had to work harder though, to make you realize how serious he was about this. About this relationship, about you. This promotion they offered you, the one that forced him to squash down his selfish desires to keep you close at all times, was a good thing. It was good for you, and where he had let Haley play the second fiddle in favor of his career and his goals, he was not going to subject you to the same. He could be supportive — he wanted to be supportive — and if that meant sacrifices on his part, so be it. Hopefully, you’d realize he was serious about both this relationship, but also that he took you seriously. As a person, a partner, and a profiler.

The forced hierarchy from your jobs should not and would not seep into any other areas of your lives together.

All of these things had been clear in his mind when you stormed into his office earlier, kicking the door shut, and demanding answers. He loved that about you too. How brazen you could be and that you were comfortable enough around him now to be brazen, even here. Time had gone by quickly, but he could recall just like yesterday when he had held an impromptu performance review here in his office. When he had tried — in vain — to lay down some boundaries, but still found himself unable to say outright that this couldn’t happen. You and him? Impossible for so many reasons. The age difference, your jobs, his son — so many obstacles that had been swept away by those steady drops of water. Things he eventually forgot were obstacles at all unless someone pointed it out for him.

And as he watched you chew your bottom lip raw — so obviously conflicted about this offer and so obviously looking for some kind of permission from him to take it — he realized he would do anything for you. Maybe that was why it had happened? He certainly hadn’t planned it, but seeing your wet eyes after he asked you to move in — again, not the reaction he planned for — he had acted on instinct. Anything to turn that confusion into something simpler.

It started as a kiss. Just a simple gesture of affection and a physical distraction. And perhaps your boldness had rubbed off on him or all those whispered confessions how you fantasized about being bent over his desk played a part, but the next thing he knew, he had pushed his hand up the skirt of your dress. By then it was too late to back down. The way your breath hitched when his fingers brushed against the silken part of your inner thigh skipped through both ears and brain and lodged straight into his libido. And then that perfect mouth of yours had dropped open when he ran his finger against the thin material of your underwear. Using his trigger finger to carve out that well-defined slit marking the entrance to something downright holy — he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and despite your half-hearted pleas, you didn’t want him to stop either.

You hadn’t been wet to start with, but it took seconds before he felt the fabric dampen. Blood rushing to swell your lips and that tight bundle of nerves he loved to rub, suck, and bite when the occasion called for it. He thought he could tell the difference with each of your heartbeats and he’ll admit he got lost in the moment.

A calculated risk on many levels, but when you shuddered and tightened around his fingers — two of them pumping into you with sloppy wet sounds — he knew he would have come in his pants if he’d been twenty years younger. Sometimes he hated that he was noticeably older than you, other times he silently thought it gave him the opportunity to show you the sexual experiences you deserved. He had another kind of patience now than when he was young, another kind of appreciation for giving as well as receiving pleasure, and let’s face it, another kind of stamina. Not necessarily better, but different.

The sight of you fully dressed, knees knocking against his where he caged you in the chair, and with a glow to your cheeks would forever be burned into his retina. He’d never able to see anyone sit in that chair again without remembering this moment and he was unable to decide whether or not that was a good thing.

It was at least part of the reason why he stayed hard — rock hard, so uncomfortably strained against the stretchy materials of his boxers — even while driving to the city. Trying and wanting to make good on his offer for lunch. And he could smell the faintest wafts of your juices on his fingers and that didn’t help one bit. For a second he had been tempted to let you help him as you had offered — unzip and lean back as far as possible in the seat, pushing your head down and feeling the rasp of your teeth when he pushed too hard at one point. No. He had tried, he told himself, to make this about you. All about you.

There was still a limit to his willpower.

“Aaron,” you had said when the car was parked, the forest empty besides the two of you. As if nothing really existed outside the two of you. Your lips were swollen from his kiss where you leaned halfway over the console. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and focused on him, pinning him in place with your unbridled sincerity. “You just need to decide if you want me to suck your dick or not before you fuck me.”

It took less than a minute before he was shoving his dick into your wet and open cunt where you laid splayed over the passenger seat in the SUV. The door stood wide open to allow him access to you, with the chill of the Virginia forest whispering across the bare skin of his thighs and yours alike. Outdoors, in the middle of the day, when you both were supposed to be at work and not fucking like two teenagers at the end of a forest road. You with that fancy dress rucked up to your midriff, and him with his pants and boxers nestled around his ankles. He didn’t even bother stepping out of them, working with what he had and shoving himself into you through the car door.

The agent and the lawyer in him mumbled something vague about indecent exposure, but drowned out at the sight of you throwing your head back when he snapped his hips forward, your wet open lips pressed against and around him. You weren’t even worried. Another part he loved about you. Spontaneous, risk-taker, daredevil — call it whatever the hell you wanted, but he loved it. It. You. He loved you.

It always felt like the first time when he pushed into you, that heated way you almost sucked him in, squeezing around his dick like a tight fist. Pure velvet fire consuming his dick, and his fingers scrambled for hold, searching for those soft parts of your body that yielded to his grip. He could feel your insides tighten whenever he hit a particularly good point and he kept the pace brutal because you asked him to. At least he thought you did — you at least swore incessantly and it was hard to tell the fuck me’s from the ordinary fuck’s. You always swore like this when you didn’t have to be quiet — and sometimes even then — and it was all breathless and beautiful and he strived to give you everything you wanted. Everything he had.

He loved the way he could see your breasts bounce even under that tight dress he had all but tricked you into wearing today. And when you had to turn around, he loved the way your ass jiggled every time he thrust into you. He loved the way his fingers fit on your body, how pliant it was, somehow always making room for him — be it his fingers, his dick, or his tongue.

You made a spectacular sight and he didn’t know where to focus. On the faint reflection in the window on the other side where he could see your eyes tightly closed and mouth hanging open. On the curve of your waist, flaring up to your hips where his hands held you. On the ripple passing through your thighs and ass cheeks every time he went all in so his balls smacked against your undoubtedly swollen clit. Or on your puffy wet lips gripping around his dick in rhythm to his hips snapping forward, a clear mirror of how your other lips looked like when they locked around his cock.

His mind felt blank and he was aware he was saying something. Trying and failing to put his thoughts into words, mostly groaning your name and saying how beautiful you were over and over again. Because you were. Jesus Christ, you were. It was partially as a distraction for himself when he reached around to find your clit — two fingers, pulling the hood back a fraction so he could move better around it — because he wanted to fill you up now.

He wanted to pump you so full of his cum you’d feel it for the rest of the day. It was a little caveman-ish, but he was done trying to deny he loved seeing his white spend pool out of your hole. A claim, a mark, an undeniable sign of where he’d been. Of what you’d done together and how you’d let him use your pussy. The only thing that could compare was seeing it in your mouth, a small pearly shimmer of something that was his gliding over your tongue.

This distraction wasn’t working. Fuck. Aaron felt the drops of sweat run down his back — despite all his cardio, his dress shirts were tight and warm now with the brutal pace he’d set. God, you were exquisite. Knees spread wide on the seat, bottom of your ass resting on your ankles on either side of his thighs. Wide-open and fucking gorgeous. He wanted to make you come around his dick again. He needed to make you come around his dick again. To feel what only his fingers felt earlier, how you’d squeeze and pulsate and buck your hips to get deeper and more. Fuck.

His tie hung loosely over your back and occasionally censored you from his view. Breathing hard, Aaron flung it away and — acting on some kind of instinct or just pure debauchery — he pooled spit in his mouth and let it drop down so it hit that perfect little asshole of yours. You obviously felt it — he heard both a gasp and had to increase his grip so you wouldn’t fly right off his dick, but most of all he saw how you tightened and that little asshole became momentarily smaller. Fucking exquisite. He checked your reflection in the window, saw the full-on mask of pleasure, and more blood left his head to pump into his dick so he wondered if you would feel it thump inside of you.

He could debate how good of a distraction it was, but at least the sight of his spit running between your cheeks kept his focus from how his dick felt in your pussy. Aaron knew he was good at multi-tasking, but this was almost too much. Remembering to keep fingering your clit — aided by how you squirmed against his hand — and trying to keep a steady pace with his dick — again aided by how you also pushed back to meet his thrusts — and wetting his thumb thoroughly before gliding it over your asshole.

Worth it, he thought vaguely, based on those positively angelic sounds you made. Even with how you swore, it sounded like gospel. He barely remembered to ask if it was okay —if it was good, if this was accepted —so mesmerized at the sight. He had done this before — always carefully, always asking for permission — not really for any other reason that in some positions, it felt like your body offered it to him. And you liked it and where Aaron hadn’t had any particular fantasies about it before, it struck that caveman-gene in him again that this was another hole to fill with his cum. Another part of you to claim in the most depraved way possible.

Maybe down the line, but so far you had never gone further than what he did right now. Rubbing a slick finger around that tight little ring he couldn’t imagine fitting even his pinky inside. It took some willpower to let his hand follow the rhythm of your body — sometimes you pushed back against his dick so hard his finger would have poked into you whether you wanted it to or not — but he wanted this to be good for you. Needed this to be good for you.

But when you told him to fuck you, and rub your clit, and don’t stop, he wasn’t going to question it.

He groaned, mostly because of how you squeezed your pussy around his dick — again like a tight fist that you might as well have sucker-punched him with — as he pushed the very tip of his thumb into your ass. Tight. Hot. Only wet because of his spit, but based on your sounds, not exactly painful. He rubbed your clit harder, hoping to ease any discomfort there was or at least distract from it, and worked his thumb gently around. A vision of his thumb buried down to the hilt floated across his mind. Another way to grip you, using your ass as a balance hole to pull you back onto his dick, and he closed his eyes while involuntarily working your clit harder as if he could transfer some of his quickly approaching climax into you.

Another time, he reminded himself and tried to focus on your words. That didn’t help. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Aaron, please don’t stop. And in the same breath, you told him to come inside you — to fill you up — and that you were moving in with him and you wanted him to keep going and he couldn’t.

On your instructions, his thumb was inside to the first knuckle and he could feel himself now, could feel his dick where he was balls-deep inside of you. The further his thumb went in, the easier it got too, almost like you were sucking him in and he tried to remember to wiggle it around, loosening you up some, wanting this to feel good for you. But you were so tight and wet and you weren’t happy with how he’d slowed his pace on anything because you obviously wanted more.

He kept rubbing your wet little clit, almost on auto-pilot, but had to stop thrusting before he came before you. Did you have any idea of how good you felt? On his dick like this? Gushing wet and spread open and still so fucking tight? The slick sounds of his fingers on your clit drowned in your breathy pleas for him to keep going.

The words made it through the haze in Aaron’s mind, where all he could see was where the two of you were joined. Yes, he could do the fucking laundry. Yes, in his apartment. Yes, you were moving in. Yes, you were close to coming and you sounded so desperate he had to try. His wrist burned from circling your clit at the awkward angle, but he’d wear a wrist brace for the rest of the week if that meant feeling you lose yourself to a climax around him.

But he was so close. His balls tight and throbbing, bursting with cum he wanted to shoot inside of you. Wanted to watch it ooze out of your swollen glistening cunt afterward, use his fingers to push it back in, and then let you lick them clean. He wanted to do all of that. But not before you came first.

Almost holding his breath, he pulled his dick out with a lewd squelch, fighting to keep the rhythm on your clit even though you were squirming and swaying all over the place. Both of you were so close and you shoved your hips back to meet his next thrust, and your tight, tight asshole swallowed the rest of his thumb, and thank god that made you almost scream as you came because Aaron only lasted two — three — four more thrusts into your tight, tight pussy before he followed. He felt it in his whole body, the way the dam burst, and his nerve-endings exploded as he came.

The quiet forest engulfed his loud groan, the sound of your name in his chest, and your thin whimpers of unbridled pleasure. He desperately grabbed onto your hips to steady himself, keeping you from pulling away, wanting everything pumped into you. He halfway pulled back and buried himself all the way in again and grunted your name like he had traveled ten thousand years to the past and reduced to nothing but animal instincts. His balls pulsated, shooting string after string of cum into you, more than he would have expected. Hopefully enough. Filling you up to the brim, just like you’d fucking asked for, and enough to eventually run out of you to coat that expensive lace he’d bought today.

He clutched your hips like a lifeline — like you’d clutched that folder earlier today in his office — like your pussy clutched and milked his dick. He still twitched inside of you, still on the cusp of the orgasm, and he breathed hard to counteract the light-headedness. You were so perfect for him in every way, just so tight that he could feel his own cum coat around his dick in the limited space.

I love you, he thought and memorized every curve and line of your back, not enough breath in his lungs to say it just yet. Slowly coming down, he massaged your hips where he had left his marks yet again. Fingerprints dug into your skin in slight bruisings, ones you seemed to appreciate. You breathed equally hard as him, but looked at him over your shoulder, so flushed and gorgeous and deserving of the world.

I love you.

It was in your eyes, your smile, and often coming out your mouth too. Not right now as you only panted slightly, but you looked at him in a way that stole his breath away all over again.

I love you.

You had looked at him like that so many times before you said it for the first time, and Aaron knew you had held back. Patience. Trust. Understanding. It was in your every move and conversation with him. He didn’t know if he had earned it, but he hadn’t lied before of how grateful he was for it. Now it was his turn, he realized, to show you the same. To adapt to your schedule and your needs like you had done for him.

Like you were doing right now when the sound of his ring tone cut through the foggy aftermath of your orgasms. Not even hesitating, you reached out for his phone — Aaron swallowed a grunt when the movement pulled his dick from your gushing hole — and handed him both phone and some wet wipes. You had never tried to compete with either the job or Jack, and Aaron loved you for that too. Even if he deep-down knew he should have prioritized differently at times, you had made it so he didn’t have to. You had made everything so easy. Always, so easy, because apparently you felt he was worth it.

Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything but satisfaction in your eyes now either as you watched him try to listen to Garcia. If you kept this up, he might start to think he was worth it too.

He wanted to be worth it, he realized, watching the wicked glint in your eye when you sucked his fingers clean after the call ended. Wanted to have you and this and everything forever.

There were many reasons why Aaron loved you, but most of all because you had made him believe he could love again at all.

A/N: First time writing this "you"-style from Hotch's POV and looking for feedback. If it's confusing or if it’s unclear who’s POV it is. Also first time writing smut from a guy’s perspective and accepting feedback on that as well 🥰

As always, I strive to be inclusive of my reader-inserts, so please let me know if any descriptions or phrases needs changing.

Remember to reblog if you liked it! And that comments feed my creativity just as much as caffeine 💕

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #accidents #criminal minds fanfiction #tumblr exclusive

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holdoncallfailed · 2 years

Text

long post sorry lol

i’ve posted about this before in kind of oblique joking terms but one of my professors in college whom i truly adored and admired, with whom i exchanged many emails even after i wasn’t in her classes (though i took as many of them as i could), and who was probably the closest thing i had to a ‘mentor’ in the admittedly flimsy academic structure of my undergraduate program is now a huge antivaxxer and general conspiracy theorist. she was always rather caustic and prone to luddism (she railed often against stuff like tinder killing romance and serendipity) and we certainly didn’t agree on a lot of media-related stuff, but that was something i really liked about her: i liked that we had such different tastes but that we still respected one another. she was intelligent and incredibly well-read, and it was in her classes that i first encountered many of the texts that would become foundational for my writing and general worldview—marxist psychoanalysis and sarah schulman and hilton als and derek jarman’s blue, to name a few. i always felt like i learned from her even when i disagreed with her (on media, not politics—i.e. she thought almost famous was drivel and that say anything was cameron crowe’s masterpiece; i think the opposite). but her criticism of contemporary society and media always seemed like it was rooted in a deep love of culture despite that—as in, she only hated so much recent crap because she knew that we deserved better as audiences and could do better as creators.

she also liked to talk about astrology (“ad-rock is the perfect example of a scorpio man!”) and homeopathic shit (my friend once emailed her saying she couldn’t come to class because she had a bad cold and she told her to take a shot of liquid oregano and come in anyway), but i ignored it because astrology especially was a common lighthearted talking point at my school. midway through 2020 she started posting on her blog about how frustrated she was with all the lockdown measures and the general state of the world, as we all were, and then it devolved so quickly from there into full-on antivax stuff. i’m talking pull quotes from RFK jr. and celia farber and glenn greenwald and even fucking joe rogan, and other shit like that. and now her whole blog is just pages and pages of antivax nonsense when she used to post screencaps from bresson films and excerpts from james baldwin’s writing. i feel like her blog could be used as a case study for the slippery slope of antivax conspiracy theory culture, how it started with one or two comments and then devolved into...whatever it is now. especially because she doesn’t fit the stereotypical antivax profile, because she was a marxist professor at a left-leaning liberal arts university who was known particularly for her critical thinking skills!

it makes me so sad, for mostly selfish reasons, because this was someone who is ultimately the source of so much of the influential work i now hold dear, and it’s difficult for that to not feel tainted now—even though the work obviously exists on its own with or without her. but it also makes me sad because reading her blog reveals the extent to which this kind of paranoia is truly so isolating (ironic lol) and how it feeds a genuine, livid hatred of the world that can never be satiated or soothed. you can’t enjoy anything with a worldview like that, as much as people who think this way claim that their fealty to capital-T Truth is based on wanting what’s best for humanity. i can’t imagine how exhausting and thankless and lonely it must be to go through life with that mindset. there’s no love in it, no grace. i think it’s pathetic, really. (in between the antivax stuff she talks about how miserable and exhausted she always is, how she isn’t moved by anything anymore, and the connection seems so obvious. how can she not realize it?) but i do still think it’s possible to critique contemporary society and media in the way that i thought my professor was doing while i was still her student—that is to say, with love: we do deserve better and can do better. but whatever she’s doing now isn’t that.

i suppose i’d like to think that she could change someday. we were still exchanging emails when she started posting that BS (i didn’t know; i wasn’t checking her blog) and not much seemed amiss to me, but obviously i haven’t contacted her in a while since. it’s a funny way to lose someone, i guess.

#i obviously can't write about this for my newsletter or anywhere publicly really so i'm putting this here i guess.#this is not even touching the astrology to antivax pipeline which i do think exists and of which she is an example...another discussion #for another time.#text

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hexisqueer · 3 years

Text

wish you cared

a/n: this was a rollercoaster to write, and through tears, all i say is, osamu big himbo :/ tw: swearing word count: 3.9K (lot of word ;-;) pairing: osamu x gn!reader genre: angst (if it’s not very good, pls forgiveness, internet person)

The late nights with the light breathy words, whispered discussions, the iridescent illumination of the screen on you face, exchanging words that would have neither rhyme nor reason when the next day greeted you. But not a day went by that you didn’t giggle to yourself, alone in your room, as your eyes skimming over the words that Osamu’s fingers carelessly typed out. And you knew, before you realized, you knew in the deepest of hearts that you were gradually falling for the inane spiker, that this was your middle school infatuation. Little did you realize that this was not, in fact, an infatuation but rather something that would plague you for years, building up for years, overwhelming you, pouring out, resulting in meaningless words and broken hearts.

But for now, it was no different than normal, your heart skipping a beat as he replied to every message of yours, head whirling with possibilities of what he would say next, feeling slightly giddy if you were to describe the emotion you experienced.

The truth was that talking to Osamu Miya, it was like being intoxicated. Not that you truly knew what it meant to be in such a state, but this was what you imagined it to be like. Always waiting for more, desiring to keep going, for the night to just still right then so you may converse endlessly, not having to worry about your mundane duties as the moonlight that shone through your windows left you feeling light-headed and weightless.

But the moon always set to give way to a new day, where you could see him in real time, but none of it felt as ethereal as the late-night talks, as intimate as it was when it was just the two of you alone, as scandalous as it felt spending hours mindlessly revealing the tiniest details of yourself to him.

You’d hoped, of course, that things wouldn’t change when time came for high school; the time, most say, is when old relationships are forgotten, the path to the future is forged, a future you hoped still entailed the time you spent with the Miya twins and Suna. You weren’t ready to move on from Osamu yet, you’d never really gotten to know if he returned the emotions you experienced. And so, you ended up a freshman at Inarizaki High, manager for the volleyball team, an integral part of the group.

You were content. Or so you thought.

Y/n was not someone who forgot easily. This was a thought that occasionally graced the train of thought that ran across Osamu Miya’s mind. They hadn’t forgotten when he said he preferred citrus drinks over plain water, hadn’t forgotten the day he’d mentioned that onigiris were his favorite, or the time he’d wished someone would make him a playlist for when he cooked.

A thought that sprang to mind as he sipped on his lemon water every practice, you beside him, mocking Atsumu, or having sarcastically enthusiastic conversations with Sunarin, or tilting your head upwards to smile at him and telling him about your day while he chuckled lightly.

A thought that crossed his mind every time you cheerfully called out his name during lunch, plopping your pale blue lunchbox on the table, bringing out an onigiri for him every other day, leading to much whining by Atsumu, but he liked it; he was special to you, not his brother, not Sunarin, it was him.

A thought that occurred to him as he put on his headphones, clicking on the song queue you made for him, one that was admittedly perfect for his cooking, calming enough for him to know what he doing, yet passionate enough for him to feel inspired. He never told anyone, but each dish he procured after a day’s cooking, was modelled after a particular song you spent day picking out to put in his playlist; one that was just for him.

He liked being special in your eyes. It made him feel like he was at the top of the world. He noticed, even if you didn’t realize, he noticed everything you did for him. Your encouragement for him at volleyball matches slightly louder than for the rest, not enough for anyone to realize but enough for him to spike the ball down stronger as your voice drowned out the crowds’ cheers for him. The sound of happiness you made eating his food, always motivating him, telling him that he was the best chef you’d ever met. The subtle blush that spread across your face as he patted your head, ruffled your hair. How a simple smile from him could light up your face, no matter how bad you’d been feeling before that.

And how could he ever forget the conversations you had under the covers of darkness? The night only rejuvenated his hope that you were only his, your gentle words and stupid memes, the quiet chuckling under his blankets that made Atsumu throw a pillow at him, yelling at him to take his ‘lover boy’ talks elsewhere.

That was the part he disliked. He was fond of you, of everything you did for him, of how you made him feel like he could do anything when you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. You were his friend. Not everything was about romance. Just because your face made every day, and night, of his better, it did not mean he had to be in love with you. You weren’t exceptionally attractive or anywhere close to the type he preferred, so why did people assume he was in love with you?

For some reason, however, he couldn’t utter those words to you. He knew, that you liked him, else why would you do so much for him? But he chose to ignore it, because if the truth came out and you decided to part ways with him seeing as nothing would ever come out of your efforts, he couldn’t bear it. He needed you. He wanted you.

But not in the way you wanted him. So, he kept you around, no matter how selfish that was.

“Good work, captain!” You smile at Kita-san, handing him a water bottle, quickly moving down the line. “Good work, dipshit.” You toss the bottle to Atsumu who stuck his tongue out at you. “Work, Suna,” you teased and received an eyeroll in response. Handing out all the bottle and murmuring ‘good work’, you finally moved to Osamu.

You loved the whole team and spending time with all of them was something that you adored, but you always saved the last bottle for Osamu. You were sure to keep it separate from the other ones, tucked in the pocket of the basket you carried so you didn’t mistake it for another bottle.

“Here ya go Osamu, good work today! You’re getting so much better.” You face away from him, towards the pair that were walking towards you now that they had a small break.

“Thanks y/n. So, did you decide who you would like as your partner for the English project the teacher assigned us? I mean Sunarin and Atsumu would be glad to have you as their partner too, seeing as you’re the genius among us.” He brought his face down closer, attempting a mocking tone, but it came out as a genuine whisper, directly sounding in your ear, that made a shiver run down your spine.

“W-well, I h-haven’t really decided yet, but I-I was thinking we could work together.” His proximity had flustered you. Your face tilted slightly upwards to him, and only then did you realize that god fucking dammit he’s too close, I can’t think like this. The thumping of your heart against your chest didn’t help either, or the fact that he, apparently, didn’t understand how much you affected him.

You collected yourself before you stuttered anymore. However, barely a word passed your lips that you were interrupted. “Ay lovebirds. This is still a public place. Yer too close to them, ‘Samu. Do you not see how red they’re turning?” You blink twice and throw a punch at the blond, missing completely in your embarrassed state, end up crossing your arms while the two laughed.

“Aw did I say something wrong though? Are you upset I exposed you to your knight in shining covers? Ya talk way too much with him at night. Do you even get any sleep?”

“Just shut up, ‘Tsumu.” Gathering up all the bottles, you walk away, too discomposed to face Osamu after what his twin said. It was probably already obvious to him, but you didn’t want to be humiliated like this in front of someone you held so dear. At the water cooler, you realize you’ve forgotten to bring Osamu’s bottle in your hurry to get as far away from him at that moment as possible. “Fuck.”

You turn back towards the gym.

The three boys watched y/n almost sprint away, laughing lightly. He can feel two sets of eyes on him, and the question echoes in his head. When are you confessing ‘Samu? He wasn’t. How could he when it would just be a lie? He didn’t want to be unfair with you, you deserved a shot at true love. But then again, he wasn’t exactly giving you a chance here was he? Keeping you bound to him, avoiding conversations about admitting romantic intentions, flustering you just for a reaction when he knows, he knows what he does to you.

“You should confess ‘Samu.” His brother’s voice sounded out, unusually soft and serious. Sunarin eyed him, seemingly thinking the same words, but not uttering them. This was the last straw. He had grown tired of people asking him about his affection for y/n, he didn’t realize how or when, but he had. He didn’t want to keep having to repeat the same tactics over and over, dodge and deflect. He was done talking about you in his free time, time he would much rather spend with you than about you, and people just didn’t seem to get it.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” The words came out as a snarl, his temper rising too high too fast. “I don’t fucking like y/n, they’re not my type. I just keep them around because I know they care.” He inhaled, avoiding all the staring eyes of his teammates. The words had come out unintentionally hostile, but he was glad he’d said them. “I mean, have you seen them? They’re not really attractive or interesting at all. It’s just because they make me feel special that they still hang around with us, that I let them hang with us.” His secret came spilling out and he didn’t regret it; he was glad to finally get it off his chest.

Atsumu and Suna, however, weren’t listening to him anymore. They were both staring past him, at the sight behind him, which Osamu whirled around to see. You were standing completely still, arms trembling at your sides, basket of bottles at your feet, eyes glassy.

The whole team followed you with their gaze as you quietly walk to the captain, bow without opening your eyes, murmur out an apology and exit the gymnasium as fast as you could. It was not a swift recognition of what had happened, but Osamu understood eventually that it was his words that had caused this. His brother and Suna merely stood there, shock evident in their eyes. “So, you were just taking advantage of them?” Osamu’s head whipped up at the soft voice of his captain. His words were calm but his expression was one of silent fury. “Do you truly realize how much you broke them with those few sentences? You may not have understood it but, we can all see it. They don’t just care for you, they love you. More than you’ve ever loved anything in your life.”

Osamu was overwhelmed, to say the least. He never intended to hurt you like that, but it had happened. Now, what of all those late-night talks and secret shared smiles? What of the playlists you made for him and the encouraging words you whispered to him before a game? What of his onigiri supply that you procured for him from your little blue lunchbox and the motivating comments you gave him on his cooking?

Before he could stop it, the stinging behind his eyes gave way to tears. Not because he loved you, he still didn’t harbor any romantic intentions towards you, he didn’t want to. But because his heart ached at the thought of being away from you, at the idea of losing you to another group of people, at the realization that you belonged with him.

Belonged with him, just as friends.

Your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. It was bad enough that you learnt that someone you’d been in love with for years now, had just been using you, but it was worse that he admitted clearly it in front of a group of people that you adored. The shattering of your heart as he spoke masked the quiet chatter of his teammates at the display. The humiliation seeped through you, the pitying glances of the team piercing you as Osamu’s words echoed in your ears - have you seen them … not my type … let them hang with us … keep them around … not attractive or interesting.

If that was what he really thought, then why did he let you make those advances? Why did he let you make a laughing stock out of yourself by doing so much for him? Why did he make you believe that he was equally interested, staying up late with you, returning the same energy you exuded?

You knew why now – he wanted to be special. He wanted to bask in the passion that you showed towards him without having to reciprocate any of the emotions. And you gave him that every day, didn’t you? Making him a separate water bottle, bringing him an onigiri, compiling playlists for him, asking him to work with you on the project even if it usually ends up with you doing all the work so you can keep up your grades?

Everything you did, you did for him. What hurt most was that he had been there for you too. He was, in all truth, your best friend. He knew every insecurity, every desire.

The time when your grades plummeted because you stayed up too late, he was there to comfort you, hold your hand and let you lean on his shoulder, cry in fear of what your parents would say, murmuring in low voices about things he did that day to distract you. The time you had refused to leave your room for days after watching that terribly sad anime, he was there to knock some sense into you, but he also laid gentle kisses on your forehead and let you explain ‘everything that was wrong with the world’. The time that he snuck into your bedroom at night just because you mentioned that you were bored and wanted to meet him; cuddling with him until he fell asleep, so you let him stay the night, waking up with his arm around your waist.

And yet, he had absolutely no hesitation in bad-mouthing you in front of everyone you were close with. Did none of that mean anything to him?

Even as the tears streamed down your face, the anger built up slowly, creeping out of you, staying with you long after your face was dry and eyes were left red. And that’s when you decided – Miya Osamu wasn’t special to you anymore. First things first, you had to sort out a few things; your life revolved around the gray-haired spiker. Well, no more.

Pulling out your phone, a text message is sent just a quickly as it is typed out.

y/n [13:25] hey tsumu, I need a partner for the English project. Do it with me or you suck. You were deflecting your emotions with humor, and yet if his face came to mind, you would breakdown right where you stood.

tsum-tsum [13:27] y/n! oh god, where are you????

y/n [13:30] um, home? Where else would I be?

tsum-tsum [13:31] are you okay? I think you should let ‘Samu explain himself. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of that. It was probably all just a lie, just so he didn’t have to answer us.

y/n [13:40] Atsumu I know yer his brother but you don’t have to cover for him like this. He said what he said. We all heard him loud and clear. It’s alright, each to their own ig.

tsum-tsum [13:42] y/n I know what he did is wrong but hes locked himself in his room and he needs to process his feelings. Yer the only one who can talk to him, so please please im begging, help him out.

y/n [13:50] I appreciate the offer but I will have to decline. It’s not often you find out yer being used by someone you love, and you rarely want to see their face after.

tsum-tsum [13:51] love? tsum-tsum [13:51] you actually love him?

y/n [13:52] ah fuck. don’t tell him I said that, I don’t want him to know this now, after he told us how he feels. y/n [13:53] Tsumu? Hello?? y/n [13:53] please don’t do it.

Osamu felt… empty. It was like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think. He was sat on his bed, staring at his phone. He tried to contact you, but none of his calls went through and his texts were undelivered. Was this how it was going to be? No more midnight conversations, no more spontaneous gifts, no more affection or encouragement? He had never implied that he wanted a relationship with you, then why were you so broken?

He never intended anything romantic… did he?

He was a fucking liar and he knew it. He knew what he was doing when he snuck into your room to spend the night with you. He knew what he does when he puts his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort. He knew how you felt every time he stood behind you, your breathing slightly faster, a faint blush running down your neck, struggling not to stutter over your words.

Osamu wanted to scream. Everything about you was adorable. When you weren’t with him, it ached. His arms itched to wrap themselves around you, forehead leaning against yours, your lips moving against his ears, telling him that it would be okay when the coach yelled at him; calming him down when Atsumu got on his nerves; making him smile when nothing went his way. You were there, since middle school, and he never got tired of being around you.

You were his as he was yours. And he…

He loved you.

The tears finally came. Messy and fast, moans escaping his lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups, tears welling up and spilling over no matter how hard he tired to wipe them away. The door slammed open and a furious Atsumu grabbed him by his collar. Osamu could barely fight back, much too devasted as the words he said in the gymnasium came echoing back to him. He loathed himself, for saying all that, even as he knew, you were the light in his life.

Atsumu was yelling at him but the words fazed past him. Out of the blue, his face stung, a slap landed squarely on his face. “Yer so stupid, ‘Samu. They loved you. They loved you and this is how you respond?” Only at Osamu’s sobbing calls for you did Atsumu realize that maybe, maybe his brother had finally understood his own emotions. “Are ya- are ya okay?” The blond wrapped an arm around his twin, pulling him in close while the latter wept, for minutes, hours. It was his own fault, for not seeing all the signs and now he had lost you forever. “It’s not forever ‘Samu. Not if you fix it right now. Do you really want to give them up?”

Cries slipped past Osamu’s lips. No, no he didn’t.

The fervent knocks on your door gave way to the shaking figure of Miya Osamu, his hands balled up in fists, head aimed downwards as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. “Y- y/n.” His arm wiped across his face, failing miserably to compose him. “Pl-please talk to me. I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

Merely the sight alone was almost enough for you to reach out to him; almost. “Go away Miya. I would like to retain my dignity, thank you very much.” You reached to swing the door shut, only to be blocked by a trembling arm. There were no words but you could see it in his eyes – something, something had changed. It was saddening, watching the strong, self-confident spiker fall to his knees at your bedroom door, no longer able to hold it open.

You’d tried all your life to pry open the door between the two of you, making every effort to keep you both close, getting along with his friends, cutting off ties with anyone he didn’t deem fit to interact with you. You did it for him – but you were tired; holding the door open this long, it hurt, a deep ache that pulled on your heart strings; binding you to him but at what cost?

“I wish-,” your voice came out quivering, your lips carefully trying to form words around the lump in your throat. Osamu glanced up, gazing at your through watery eyes, hopeful, longing. “I wish you would have told me, before I invested so much of myself. But then again, I should have realized, that when something seems too good to be true, Miya, it usually is.”

He gets up slowly and reaches to you, with shivering fingers, but you step back and his fingers clench into a loose fist, eyes showing emotions that have never graced his face before. Atsumu promised, it’s probably not too late yet. You can still convince them. But behind your stained face, was resignation. You were no longer his. He had lost you, the ground underneath him crumbling away, the thread that you had so carefully woven the only thing connecting the both of you.

A thread, that could not bear anymore weight. Before he could say anything to bring back what you had before, you spoke. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry I wasn’t everything you wanted. But I’m done. My heart is tired of being played with.” You glanced at him with determination clear in your eyes.

“N-no, no please y/n. Let me explain.”

“I think, I think this is goodbye Miya Osamu. I hope you find someone who made the moon seem as beautiful to you, as you did for me.” With that, you gave him a forlorn smile, shutting off the door that connected you to him, snapping any threads surrounding you. Not another word was exchanged ever.

And yet, at that moment, you were tied, sitting on either of your mahogany bedroom door, weeping for someone you would never have.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #osamu angst #osamu x you #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu angst #haikyuu miya osamu #haikyuu miya #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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softtransbf · 3 years

Text

Fresh Blood, Old Scars Part 1

You'd disappeared 15 years ago without a trace- what's Yancy supposed to do when you walk into Happy Trails Penitentiary and don't recognize him, because he's transitioned? canon compliant trans!yancy/reader

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of violence, canonical and parental. deadnaming and misgendering before either of you came out (none by anyone who knows the correct name/pronouns)

Word Count: 2,690

“Hey Yancy, I heard there’s fresh blood comin’ in today for some sorta museum heist.”

“Oh? Know anything else about these guys, so we can give ‘em a proper welcome, Bambam?”

“I know some. The first guy, Mark Iplier, claimed to have been in charge of the whole thing, but from what my sources said, it’s the partner that ran the show- just real quiet-like. I’ve been told that he don’t say a word.”

“Got a name for this, uh, silent partner?” He chuckled at his joke.

“Y/N L/N.” Yancy’s stomach dropped the way it always did when he heard that last name, your last name. Get your shit together. Wrong first name, and Bambam said he and his. Bambam don’t use pronouns other than they/them unless they’re sure. It’s just some guy with the same last name.

“Yance, you okay?” Tiny waved his hand in front of Yancy’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, just, uh, thinkin about how best to greet dese guys. The usual, wit Don’t Wanna Be Free ready just in case?”

“Right off the bat? You really think they’re that high of a flight risk?” Sparkles finally spoke up.

“I, uh, I don’t trust dem silent-types. They’s always schemin’, got somethin goin ahn in their heads.” And if he's anything like- yeah. Gone before you know it.

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll go let the others know.” Yancy didn’t even register who was speaking; he was too lost in memories.

- 15 years earlier-

Yancy knew it wasn’t cool to be excited for the first day of school when you’re a senior in high school, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need or even want to be cool- all he needed was to be your friend. Well, maybe not just friend. You’d been gone for almost the entire summer, and he’d spent the whole time figuring out how to both ask you out and tell you that he’s a guy.

He practically skipped across the street to your house so you can walk to school together, like you had every day since middle school. He knocked- nothing. Rang the doorbell- still nothing. He checked the back door and the spots where you had hidden spare keys over the years- nothing. All the curtains were drawn, too, so he couldn’t see inside. He kept trying as long as he possibly could before he had to sprint to make it to class just barely in time. All day, he kept an eye on the door, waiting for you- the two of you made sure to sign up for the exact same schedule before you went on your vacation. At lunch, he went to the office to see what he could find out.

“Y/DN isn’t a student here anymore- Mr L/N just told us last week.”

“What? Do you know where they went?”

“I’m sorry, hon, I don’t. All I know is that Y/DN is no longer a student here.”

He’d never ditched a class in his life, but that was the last thing on his mind as he ran home, crying. He didn’t stop crying for weeks.

-Present -

He’d never wanted to be wrong more in his life, but there you were. Looking better than he’d ever dreamed, following Mark around silently as he blabbered on about wanting to rally the other inmates to try to break out. No. I lost you once, and it cost me everything. I’m not about to lose you again. He quickly spread the word to skip pleasantries with the new guys and prepare for the song. As he was, you made eye contact with him from across the room. His heart dropped; you didn’t recognize him. You looked right through him, with the same calculating expression you gave everyone else. Of course he wasn’t gonna recognize you, dumbass. You’ve been on hormones for years and have had top surgery. Usually Yancy loved that he couldn’t see anything of the person he used to be in the mirror, but today he hated it more than anything in the world. Stick to the plan, Yance. He doesn’t recognize me, but it might be better this way. This way, I can get him to stay and get to know me as I am now, and he won’t be disappointed that I haven’t become anything like what we dreamed of so long ago.

Yancy couldn’t have planned it better, Mark practically begging Jimmy to punch him through the wall right before the show started, leaving you alone.

The number went great, as always, but then you showed him a picture of your parents. He knew that picture; you took it when the four of you went on a vacation together before you started your freshman year of high school. He also knew that he had once been in the picture, but you’d cut him out. The tape and staples that had been holding his heart together since you left fell away.

He stuck with his usual response to people citing family for wanting to leave, for the most part. No one at Happy Trails knew about you, and he’d killed his parents before they could leave him, so he’d kept his true abandonment issues to himself. Face to face with you after all these years, though, he couldn’t stop himself from adding “they’re always just gonna leave you behind” and a warning about trifling with the past. You flinched a little at both of those, and a spark of hope ignited in his chest- maybe you hadn’t forgotten about him, even if you didn’t recognize him now.

Then you still chose to leave. The rest of the rather single-sided conversation was a blur to him. Later, as he was tending to his injuries in solitary, he remembered calling you handsome and/or beautiful and your blush when he did. And, of course, you knocking him flat on his ass. He’d challenged you to a fight, because he’d always been able to beat you before. The part that truly left him confused, though, was why he offered to help you break out.

All he’d wanted for the last fifteen years was to go back to the day you left and beg you to stay. He’d told himself dozens, maybe hundreds, of times that if he ever saw you again, he’d do everything in his power to keep you with him. On his darker and angrier days, he truly meant everything. But here you are, and he offered to help you leave. This is what you get for even hoping someone might stick around. Let’s just do this. I gotta stop in with the warden first, though…

“Me? Out there? With you?” He chuckled. You had no idea that, with that simple gesture, you offered him everything he’d wanted for so long. Fuck, I don’t deserve him. I still love him, but he deserves someone better than the angry, selfish man I am. The fragments of his heart splintered even more. “I, um. I done a lotta bad things. And, uh.” He made himself brighten up. “This is home! For now, anyway. Maybe next time parole comes up, I’ll, uh” take it and go find you like I should have fifteen years ago. And I’ll spend every minute until then trying to become the kind of man you deserve. “Anyway, I gotta get back to it. You take care now, you hear? And, hey, visitation! Every third Sunday!” You looked down at the box you’d brought with you, and he ran. When he got back to his cell, he cried genuine tears for the first time since that August day when his world turned upside down.

- 2 weeks later, visitation day -

He knew hoping you’d come was a waste of time, and that he was just setting himself up for more pain. He’d learned the hard way that when you were gone, that was that. But still, there he was, looking up every time a guard walked into the room. As expected, they never called his name. The rest of the inmates gave him a wide berth as he went back to his cell for the night, and they were right to. He was itching for an excuse to fight. No one gave him one, though, so he told himself he’d find one tomorrow and got ready for bed.

When he got to his cell, it took him just one second to realize there was someone on his bed, pull them off, and shove them against the wall. It took him three more to process that it was you, and then another five to step back and let you go.

“Sorry for scaring you, Yancy. I didn’t mean to. It’s just… it’s visitation day, but I’m still wanted for the escape you helped me pull off, and I haven’t decided if I want to come back for good or not.” He stood there, frozen. You chuckled nervously. “I get it, your turn to be the quiet one. I’m sorry about that, by the way. There was a lot to process all at once, and I just kinda shut down when I get overwhelmed.”

I know. I remember that you didn’t say a single word our first day of high school, Yancy wanted to say. He wanted to say something, anything, but you being there and so close was just too much.

“Okay, so, honesty time; there’s a specific reason I came back.” You took a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that I know you, somehow. But I know I’d remember meeting you- no way I’d forget someone like you. Anyway, I'm probably way off base and ridiculous. I guess I just wanted to tell you?” You ran your hand through your hair. “God, that sounds even flimsier than it felt in my head. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It, uh. It means a lot that you came back to say that.”

“Uh, Yancy? What happened to your accent?”

“Shit. Um. C’mere.” He muttered, as he sat down on his bed and pulled you down next to him. He prayed that you couldn’t hear how his heart started racing when he noticed your knees were touching. “No one here knows that the accent isn’t how I always speak. Not even the warden. I’ve been here five years and haven’t dropped it once. Anyone learns about this, and you’re dead, understand?” He knew that the threat was empty, but you seemed to believe it.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I gotta ask, though- why fake it? It seems like a lot of effort. You don’t owe me an explanation, of course, but since you’re heart-on-your-sleeve about your parents, it must be one hell of a reason. I bet it’d feel good to let it off your chest. I can promise to leave and never come back if you do- a burden shared is a burden halved, and if I’m gone, you can be 100% sure no one here will know.”

He took a deep breath. “Something flipped my world on its head, and I needed to distance myself from who I was before. That’s an odd phrase, though- ‘a burden shared is a burden halved’. Where’d you pick that up?”

“Oh, um. The mom of someone I loved a long time ago used to say it a lot. It just kinda stuck, I guess.”

“Loved, huh? You break their heart, or did they break yours?” Yancy was surprised he got the words out without his voice shaking or cracking. You were silent for a long time, and Yancy was sure he’d pushed too hard and you would completely shut down or, worse, leave altogether.

“Sorry, I haven’t talked about this… ever." Your voice shook. "I’ve never talked to anyone about this. I don’t know if I was loved back, but if so, I was the heartbreaker. I didn’t mean to be- I couldn’t control having to leave, and I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back until it was too late. I couldn’t say goodbye. I’ve hoped every day for the last fifteen years that my feelings were unrequited, though. I’m happy to have the pain of an unrequited first love if it means she wasn’t heartbroken.” The incorrect pronoun stung a bit, but you didn’t know, and you’d loved him back all those years ago. He was invincible.

“Have you tried reaching out? Even if your feelings were one-sided, I think you owe it to both of you to say them, at least once.” He reached out and took your hands without thinking. You didn't stop him, and he felt like he could fly.

“I tried, actually. About eight years ago, I'd, uh, escaped and was finally an actual person again after everything that was done to and taken from me, so I started looking for her. But it’s like she vanished off the face of the earth five years to the day after we were separated. It’s actually how I met Mark- I got into some deep and shady shit looking. I only gave up last year. Nothing turned up in seven years of searching, so I have to figure that she did something incredibly stupid a decade ago and got herself killed.”

“I didn’t die. Just the name did.” Yancy breathed. A half second later, he realized he’d said it out loud, and his heart stopped. You took your hands out of his and scooted away.

“Yancy. Are you trying to tell me that you’re- that we- oh my god. It is you. I knew I knew you. Everything else is different, but I should have recognized your eyes. I guess some part of me did. But you- I- I thought you were dead.”

“As you can see, I’m not dead, Brain. And for the record, your feelings were definitely not one-sided.” He reached out and cupped your cheek with one hand.

“Shit, Pinky, it really is you.”

Yancy had dreamed about how seeing you again would go in a million different ways. Not a single one of those included you practically jumping into his lap and kissing him with a lifetime's worth of love and want.

He let out an undignified whine when you broke the kiss. “Wait, wait. You knew from the second I walked in here who I was, didn’t you? You tried so hard to stop me from leaving… but then you helped me do just that. You chose to stay here when I asked you to come with me. Then I came back, and you got me to say all those things… And we’re both trans and wound up here? This is all just. So much. I can’t- I can’t do this.” You got off his lap and scooted to the far end of the bed.

“What are you saying, Y/N? That you’re leaving? Again?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

You stood up and faced him. “You do not get to play that card. You don’t know how much I went through trying to find a way to tell you I was sorry, that I didn’t know that the trip was a permanent one until we were on the other side of the country. Dad said that I'd never see mom again, and he’d kill me if I tried to get in touch with you or anyone else from back home. He broke my arm to prove he meant it. I can’t stay here to unpack all of this. I have to go. But you can come with me. I mean it even more now than I did last time. I’m not leaving you, I’m leaving here.”

You walked to the cell door and looked back at him with a sigh. “But I know you, and you have a family here. I’ll get you my address- it’s your turn to come to me, when you’re ready. I’ve waited 15 years to be with you again, what’s a little bit longer?” Without giving him a chance to respond, you kissed him again and were gone.

#yancy x yn #yancy x reader #yancy x male reader #yancy x trans male reader #yancy ahwm #ahwm fanfiction #otp: don't want to be free #self ship fanfic #self shipping fanfiction #self shipping fic

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