#tw: panic attack
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Dissociative Identity Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Do you ever just want to illustrate your blorbos Going Through It™.
HC territory.
I know we've seen Jason deal with his PTSD a few times, particularly in AK, WFA and UTRH, all in different forms, but I wanna see that boy clutch his chest and recite words of the past as he crawls towards the darkness of the room as his panic starts to overtake him - the darkness, the shadows, where Bruce always told him it was safe, where you could take cover - and grasp desperately for an item of the present before the rage kicks in (the second wave of defence).
For Harvey, I know we've kinda seen it here and there, mainly through his relationship with alcohol, but I want to see him taking copious amounts of painkillers to soothe the headaches and muscle strain from switching alters. He downs throat soothers like no one's business after doing that voice, and when the derealization episode hits after the stress and scare of it all, he falls into a catanionic state, wearily gazing around him, wondering if he's real with his coin as his anchor.
Anyway. :P
#harvey dent#two face#jason todd#red hood#tw: mental health#tw: panic attack#headcanons#fanart#dc comics#gif#retro aesthetic#reginalususart
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Here's a snippet of the Healing Scara comic I worked on today during my Picarto stream! If you want to see more, I stream on Saturdays at picarto.tv/drawlypsy.
If you want to see Part One, go HERE
Thank you again for being patient as I work on this comic. I'll have the full piece up on my Patreon! (along with other NSFW works)
#scaralumi#Healing Scara#genshin impact#Genshin Impact#genshin impact fanart#genshin impact fan comic#tw: scalpel#tw: torture#tw: blood#tw: trauma#tw: panic attack#Lumine#scaramouche#faruzan#dottore
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8x10 coda
bucktommy fix-it (sort of), emotional hurt/comfort, hopeful ending | cw: angst, dissociation, mild descriptions of a panic attack | 1.5k words
(Buck’s face at the end of that episode got me in the feels and I had to get these words out of me. Thank you @fuselsstuff for making me feel better about my writing and my endings 😘❤️)
As Buck watches Eddie drive away, something inside him crumbles, another piece lost to the wreckage that has come to be his life. He stands frozen in front of what used to be Eddie’s house—his house now, technically—but the words don't sit right.
His house.
They feel foreign, misplaced. Like a title handed to someone else by mistake. He knows he chose it, knows the reason why he did it, yet what seemed like a good idea at first now feels like a crushing weight around his shoulders.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there. Staring at nothing. His head filled with static noise. All feeling draining out of him, until emptiness is all that surrounds him. Distantly he’s aware of his clothes progressively getting soaked as the gentle drizzle grows into a steady downpour. But he can’t seem to make himself move, staying rooted to the spot.
Eventually, however, the cold seeps so deep into his bones that it forces him into movement. Buck turns, steps inside and shuts the door behind him. And is promptly at a loss. He feels like he took a wrong turn somewhere and forgot where home was. It’s a disconcerting feeling.
Buck makes his way to the bathroom, peels his wet clothes off and steps into the shower, turning the heat up as high as it’ll go. It skalds his skin, but even then, he’s still cold. It’s like it’s burrowed deep inside and refuses to let go. He pulls on a hoodie, refusing to think about whose it is and why he picked that particular one.
By the time he stumbles into bed, his limbs feel heavy, weighted down by something vast and shapeless. His mind is scarily blank. Whatever thoughts flicker into his mind are gone too fast to take hold of. Maddie almost died. Eddie’s gone. And, why won’t they listen to me? Why can’t they see I’m drowning? Everyone has something, someone. And what do I have? What am I left with?
Nothing. It’s always nothing.
I am nothing.
For once, the thought doesn’t hurt. It barely registers at all. It’s just a fact—objective and empty. He notes the detachment like he’s reading about someone else’s life. It should scare him, but he doesn’t feel much of anything right now. I don’t like this, Buck thinks distantly, I don’t like this at all.
He sees his hands move as though from far away, outside his body. His fingers close around his phone. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus, to process the screen in front of him. He scrolls through his contacts, searching for Dr. Copeland. That’s who he meant to call. That was the hazy plan he’d formed in his head.
But somehow, Tommy’s name is the one he presses.
The phone rings. One. Two. Three times.
The sound should make his heart pound with anxiety. Instead, he finds himself being soothed by the repetitive sound. His mind latches onto the rhythm, following it like a thread in the dark. The longer it rings, he starts to fill each pause with a thought. Of course. He won’t pick up. You don’t matter to anyone. He didn’t want you.
And then—
“Evan?”
A pause, a quiet breath. Then softer, “you okay?”
It shatters something in Buck. The numbness that had settled in him disappears. The concern, the familiarity, the way Tommy has never been anything but honest with him—hearing it now, when everything else has started unraveling In him, it’s too much.
His breath is knocked out of his chest. His throat closes up. He feels a tingling in his hands as his heart rate picks up. He wants to speak, to explain, to say something, but all that makes it out is a choked, heart-wrenching sob that feels like it’s been ripped right out of him.
“Sweetheart,” Tommy says, instantly alert. “Evan. Talk to me. What’s wrong? Where are you?”
Buck tries to breathe, tries to push the words out, but they’re trapped behind his lips. He can’t speak and that drags him deeper into desperation. He clutches his shirt, as though if he grips it tightly enough, he’ll be able to keep himself together and he’ll remember how to use his words again.
His whole body shakes with the force of it, and it’s humiliating, it’s embarrassing, it’s—
“Okay, okay. I’m on my way,” Tommy says, voice steady but urgent beneath it. Buck hears the sound of an engine turning on, the rush of movement on the other end. “Just breathe for me, baby.”
“Eddie’s,” Buck finally manages to croak out.
“What?” Tommy asks, slightly distracted. Buck hears car horns and the shift of gears.
“I’m at Eddie’s.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The words come quick, sure, no hesitation.
And Buck appreciates that Tommy doesn’t ask any more questions. He just keeps talking, filling the silence with warmth. You’re okay. I’m here. Breathe for me, sweetheart. Just like that. You’re doing good. You’re so good. Just hold on, I’m almost there.
Buck clings to every word like a lifeline, tucks them inside himself. He tries to believe them. After all, Tommy doesn’t lie to him.
His sobbing has slowed, but now something worse is creeping in—the weight of reality pressing back down. He called Tommy. He’s on the phone with him right now. He’s crying like a fucking baby.
“I’m sorry.” Buck rasps, voice raw. “I—I shouldn’t have called you. Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Evan.” Tommy says his name like it’s a prayer, like it’s something precious. Like it means more than Buck ever let himself believe. Like it means love.
Buck inhales sharply, stomach twisting in knots. He’d missed that. God, he’d missed hearing his name spilling from Tommy’s mouth.
Tommy’s voice softens. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. It’s okay. Whatever it is…I’m here for you.”
He can’t accept that. “No—no, I…you were probably busy.” Buck’s voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to pull you away from anything important.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Tommy says, simple and reassuring. Then, quieter, “And, even if I was…I’d still come.”
Buck should feel comforted. Instead, it makes something ugly rise in his chest. A sick, gnawing pit of self-hatred. Sharp and precise.
Why does he always do this? Always need too much? He feels everything so loudly, and then drags people into the mess of him, makes them carry it when they shouldn’t have to.
He lets out a dry, broken laugh. “There I go again,” he mutters, bitter. “Bucking it up. Making it all about me.”
Tommy exhales roughly through the line. And then, firm but gentle, “Evan. I don’t know what’s going on, but it's okay to feel things. And you’re more than allowed to be upset and want to talk about it. It’s okay to need people.”
Buck closes his eyes. His whole body hurts. He wants to argue. He wants to tell Tommy he’s wrong. That everyone else thinks he’s too much. That Buck’s needs are a burden.
But before he can—
“I’m here. Can you open the door for me, sweetheart?
Buck manages to drag himself out of bed and down the hall. His breath hitches once he reaches the front door, hands trembling slightly, his mind still caught between panic and exhaustion.
He opens the door.
And there’s Tommy.
Standing on the other side, rain-damp and breathless. There’s concern written into every tense line of his body. His shoulders are squared, his jaw set, like he’s ready to take on every single one of Buck’s battles without hesitation.
Buck swallows hard. “Tommy.”
So much weight in a name, in a single word.
Tommy doesn’t say anything. He just opens his arms.
And Buck simply falls into them. No second-guessing or uncertainty. He clings to Tommy like he’s a safe haven, fists gripping at the fabric of his hoodie, pressing in close until there’s no space left between them. And still, Buck wishes he could crawl inside Tommy, just to be even closer. His mind quiets, the storm inside him calms into a single thought, repeated over and over again.
Tommy. Tommy. Tommy.
He breaths him in, the familiar scent anchoring him. Slowly, he matches his breathing to Tommy’s. And, in that moment Buck is entirely convinced their hearts are beating in sync. As one.
Tommy holds him just as tightly, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other cradled protectively against his spine. He starts to run soothing circles up and down Buck’s back, murmuring lowly in his ear.
“Shh, I got you. I’m here.”
Then, gently, hesitantly, Tommy presses a kiss to the side of Buck’s head. Soft. Careful. Like he’s afraid he’s not allowed to touch Buck like that, but still feels compelled to, needs to do it.
Buck lets out a shaky sigh, melting further into his arms.
He knows eventually they’ll have to talk. About the break up, about them. About what had set Buck off.
He’ll have to untangle the mess inside him, sort through everything he’s buried deep. There will be therapy. There will be hard conversations.
But not right now.
Right now, he lets himself believe Tommy—that he’s here, that he means it—and decides to go from there.
“Can I come in?”
“Will you stay?”
They speak at the same time.
And then—
Yes.
For the first time that day, Buck feels a genuine smile break across his face.
It won’t be easy.
But he thinks that maybe—just maybe— things will be okay.
#911 spoilers#bucktommy#fix it of sorts#911 8x10#911 8x10 coda#evan buckley#tommy kinard#tw: dissociation#tw: panic attack#hopeful ending#angst#hurt/comfort#my fics
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Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts | LN4 (PT. III)
pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader
summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.
warning: description of panic attack, partying, alcohol consumption, bestie franco, jack a cutie, y/n feeling themselves, lando is PISSED. jealous!lando if you squint!!
fc: none!
wc: 4.5K
a/n: so would y'all hate me if the next few parts are taken from maxton hall??
part 1 | part 2 | current | part 4
You didn’t know a lot about musical theater but in high school you did follow the crowd by finding and listening to the cult classic Heathers and suddenly you felt like you were living ‘Dead Girl Walking’ but only in reverse. Instead of a demon queen deciding to ruin your life socially because you made her look like a fool at a party so you venture out to get fucked by your crush before that happens, instead you get laid by your not crush crush and THEN the demon king decrees what you can assume is your social reputation all because you made a fool of him for trying to bribe you. The only difference between Heathers and you, Heathers is a fictional cult classic where the characters were in a small town while you’re attending the most elite school in the world so one bad word from someone attending and you would actually be done for life.
God, don’t you just love Fridays?
Your hands start to shake as you look down at your phone. Your stomach twists and your heart is now in your throat. You aren’t sure if you’re going to cry or scream or vomit or all three. You try to take a few deep breaths but you can’t focus on your breathing while your mind runs with so many different scenarios about talking to Lando and none of them end well. Your breathing continues to pick up speed and you feel hot. Your heart is pounding and you think that you’re going down. You gasp for air as you sit up back against your headboard, trying your hardest to calm down but it’s impossible with the impending doom looming in your head. You're shaking violently and you can feel tears rolling down your face as you gasp again for air and a choked sob escapes you so you pull your knees to your chest and hug them tightly, riding out your first panic attack.
After what felt like forever, you finally come down from your panic attack. You take a few deep breaths and now you feel exhausted from the adrenaline drop. Closing your eyes you sniffle before staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell your life took such a weird turn. Then you remember that you have free will and are not obligated at all to meet with Lando. You silently curse at the ceiling as if Lando could see or hear you before finally making the slow effort to get off the bed. Your legs wobble but you manage to limp your way to the bathroom so you could look decent for Franco’s return. The last thing you need is for Franco to see you like this after the wonderful date you two had. You wash your face before patting your face dry as you look at your face. Your eyes are red and puffy but you could at least pass that off as recovering from the very welcoming overstimulation Franco put you through.
Limping out, you start back to your bed before there’s a knock at your door. You look over your shoulder as fear digs its dagger of ice into your heart and you feel so cold. Your breathing starts to become shorter before you take a deep breath. There is no reason to freak out. There is no reason that Lando should have this effect on you. He was nothing more than the school’s demon king. A demon king that is egotistical, rude, cocky, good for nothing stupid asshole of a player that just needed to leave you alone and let you focus on your studies and–
“Y/N?”
You feel relief flood through your body when you hear Franco’s voice. Limping over, you crack the door open and smile as you open it enough for Franco to slip in, using the door as a cover, before closing it. “Sorry,” you laugh gently, “kind of hard to walk right now.” You blush when Franco smirks at you. Cheeky bastard, knows exactly what he did. You squeak when Franco swiftly grabs you by your legs and tosses you over his shoulder. “Franco!” You laugh and kick your feet slightly as he carries you back to your bed before carefully putting you down before sitting next to you and grabbing the TV remote, flipping through the apps on your tv to find something to turn on.
“Where’d you go?” You ask as the realization hits you that you never actually knew where he went. “Hm? Oh, I forgot I promised Liam I’d help him with his Spanish homework so I had him meet me in the lobby so we could work on it. He did most of it and honestly doesn’t give himself enough credit so it was pretty short.” Smiling sheepishly at you, “apologies. I thought I told you before I left but it seems you were still a bit dazed. I should’ve stayed to make sure you were much more present.” Your heart melts as Franco talks and you gently nudge his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. You went above and beyond during the aftercare. Truly, I just zoned out and completely missed that bit of information. That was on me.” You smile up at Franco leaning onto his shoulder for a moment before leaning back, “but I’m glad it went well! Did you find anything…interesting while talking to Liam?” You glance at Franco with your eyebrow raised.
Franco glances at you and breaks out into a grin. “Put something on.” Franco passes you the remote and you end up putting Spotify on and letting your playlist be a shield. Shifting, you and Franco face each other as you grab a pillow, pulling your knees up to your chest hugging your pillow with a grin. “So? What did you find out??” You see Franco shifting to get comfortable and how he was taking his sweet time and you groan, “Come on Franco! The suspense is killing me!”
“Sorry! I’m trying to figure out where I want to start,” Franco finally gets comfortable as you lean forward. “Let’s start with the biggest lore I found.” Franco takes a deep breath as he puts his hands together, “I have to take Lewis Hamilton off of my roster.” You gasp loudly and lean back in utter shock at this revelation. “What?! Are you serious???” You watch Franco nod mutely and dramatically pretend to wipe an invisible tear away. “Just yesterday you were so stressed about being near him and now he’s off the roster? What changed? What does Liam know that would take Sir Lewis Hamilton of all people off the roster?” You tilt your head as Franco leans forward and reaches for your hands. “Let me hold your hands while I tell you this.” Gently squeezing your hands, “...Charles has a date with Lewis–”
“CHARLES WHAT?!”
“Y/N!” Franco chides playfully at the sudden raise in volume. You let go of Franco’s hand to cover your mouth, “sorry! Sorry! I’m just–I was just texting Charles! He never fucking told me he got a date with Lewis Hamilton.” You reveal. “Oh? Were you talking about…me?” Franco grins as you blush and huff, laughing while you shake your head and speak, “that’s not important right now! We’re on Lewis having a date with Charles and that in turn having you take Lewis off your roster! Stay focused.”
Holding his hands up, “right.” Franco says. He sighs softly as his shoulder deflates and leans back against your headboard, “I like Charles. I do, I have so much respect for him as a person and a student and especially as a teammate so it feels…wrong almost to keep Lewis on my roster since Charles seems so happy to have this date. I was already pushing it by keeping Lewis on knowing Charles has the biggest crush on him,” Franco murmurs. Which makes sense. You nod slowly, “so you took Lewis off since you suspect that he’ll be off the market?” Franco nods as he leans forward, “yes. That is exactly why. Also, before you ask, Liam found out because he overheard Charles talking to Carlos about it while they were in English together.” You shake your head and laugh because oh dear Charles. Horrible at keeping his mouth shut.
“I can’t believe him. Such a chatterbox but I’m proud of him! Can’t believe he didn’t fucking tell me–” you grab your phone and see about 20+ messages from Charles and reading the preview, you put your lips together. “False alarm, he texted me about it I just didn’t answer.” That gets Franco to laugh and you join in the laughter. “Oh Y/N, please never change.” Franco grins at you while you giggle. “Also, do you want to come with me tonight to Beta Kappa Alpine? Liam said they’re throwing a party tonight and it should be fun but not wild since it’s Alpine throwing the party. Most people are going to head to Alpha Delta Red Bull’s party tonight.”
You stare at Franco and blink. A party. A party at Alpine’s frat house. Tonight. While Red Bull is having their own frat party and everybody who was anybody was going to go to Red Bull and party like rockstars or try to anyway. You weren’t really the one to party or go out but tonight would be different.
“Sure!” You smile happily at Franco, “I would love to go to Alpine’s party with you.”
“Wonderful! I can show you what a fun night looks like and you can actually enjoy a night that’s not studying and homework,” Franco grins clapping his hands together, “oh! In honor of it being October, they’re doing themed parties leading up to Halloween. Tonight is sports themed so,” Franco is climbing off the bed and gathering his things as he says, “I can lend you one of my jersey’s for tonight when we pregame?”
“...Pregame?” You question.
Franco looks at you like you’ve grown ten heads. “Y/N. Do you not know what pregaming is?” He laughs out of shock as you shake your head. “Oh my dear sweet Y/N. Don’t worry. I’ll teach you all about pregaming tonight when I come over with my jersey for the party. I’ll be back here around 7. Then we can get ready and pregame and head over to the party, is that okay with you?”
“Perfect.”
“Wonderful, I’ll see you at 7.” Before he leaves, Franco gives you a quick forehead kiss before he’s out the door.
You let the door shut before falling back into your bed with a sigh. Your first and probably last frat party. At Formula Ivy Academy no less. Picking your phone up, you see that you have about 2 hours to go down a rabbit hole. You think for a moment and decide that you’re going to spend going down the rabbit hole then the second hour calling Charles and demanding answers about his date with Lewis.
Well, this is certainly one way to go out from a place like this, you guess.
“Oh god, this is horrible.” You cough and gag slightly as the after taste of the cheap vodka Franco bought hits you full force. Putting the glass down, you make a face and gently push it away before turning back to finish your makeup. “Is this the type of alcohol that is going to be at the party tonight?” You look at Franco through your mirror and your face falls into slight horror when he just nods as he fastens his jeans. You look back at your glass and take a deep breath before downing the rest of it and gagging again, “so, is that why you pregame? At least for frat parties? So by the time you arrive you’re already buzzed and won’t have to taste how shitty the alcohol is?” Franco laughs while nodding which is all you need to know that this is exactly the reason why. “Could you pour me another glass? Maybe with a bit more Sprite instead of vodka? I would like to keep my taste buds intact by the end of the night.”
“Oh my dear Y/N, you’ll be lucky to wake up not feeling like death but what’s this?” Franco asks as he comes over and refills your cup. Thankfully, Franco isn’t that much of a psycho and pours more Sprite than vodka into your cup as your request, “asking for seconds. Y/N, could it be that you’re going to get drunk tonight?” He jokes as he gently hooks his chin over your shoulder as you tickle his nose with your brush before returning to your makeup. “What are you doing and what is that stuff?”
“It's a shimmer I’m putting on my cheeks.” You explain as you continue. “Make me pop under the lights. You want something?” You tap your brush against the lid of the container before making room on your makeup bench as Franco sits and turns to look at you ready to be shimmery. You smile and put some shimmer on Franco’s cheeks before cleaning up your makeup station. “Perfect.”
You two take another 45 minutes to yap and drink till both of you are feeling a nice buzz. You then double check you have everything. Phone, wallet, keys, and portable charger. Then checking yourself over in the mirror you take a moment to fix your hair before tying Franco’s away jersey, tucking the excess inward. “Are you sure you won’t be upset if this gets makeup on or messy?” You turn to Franco who simply waves you off because ‘it can be washed’. You shrug before grabbing your jacket and putting it on before the two of you head off to Alpine’s frat.
The walk to the frat house was about 15 minutes from your dorm just a bit off of campus which is filled with chatter between you and Franco. Though, the closer you two get to the frat house the louder the music gets. You typically don’t go out so this is all new to you and you keep losing your train of thought but thankfully, Franco is the least judgemental person. When the house comes into view, you blink at the small line that formed to get inside. “There’s a line?” You ask.
“Oh, yeah. Almost every frat has one. Same with sororities. Some of the houses aren’t cool with each other or like–a sorority girl slept with her sister’s man or ex so now they’re blacklisted. Sometimes people who have been kicked out try to sneak in so they usually have someone stationed at the door to basically play bouncer.” Franco looks over at you and laughs at the expression on your face. “I know. I know. It’s wild.”
“Damn…so high school really is neverending,” you murmur and shake your head, “do they have a list?” Franco thinks as he peers around, “it seems so. Though again, Alpine isn’t one of the more popular frats so it’s probably just a small list of who’s blacklisted from all the frats on campus along with their own.” He shrugs a shoulder as you two move up, “besides that they’ll let about anybody in. Even the overflow from Red Bull.” “Really?” The chance of running into Lando went from 90/10 to a solid 50/50 and that makes your stomach turn. “Yeah. It’s a Friday night. College kids are looking for parties, especially with fraternities and sororities.” Franco explains, “so whoever Red Bull rejects will end up here or try to sneak in at Red Bull since they always throw ragers.” Glancing at you, he grins, “those most people haven’t been successful in doing that but there are a few cases.”
Raising a brow, “Yeah?” You ask. “Mr. Colapinto, are you admitting to me that you’ve snuck into Red Bulls raging frat parties before?” You tease softly and grin seeing him blush slightly. “You totally have! Franco!” You giggle as Franco laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender. “You’ve caught me. Though this was prior to me officially joining the lacrosse team and getting the fast pass into their parties. It does pay to know people around campus though.” He admits with a wink as you two step to the front door. “Which was me just offering to go as a plus one to the pretty sororities girls or offer to play wingman for the frat bros.”
“Well?” You tilt your head. “I haven’t gotten a single negative review.” Franco grins as you two step onto the porch and see Jack is at the door. Jack was in your and Franco’s graduating class and even though you and Jack didn’t really talk, you two were familiar and friendly with each other. Jack pulls Franco into a “bro hug” as they greet each other before Jack offers an arm and you happily accept the side hug. “Y/N! Hey!” Jack grins as you pull away. “Hey Jack. How’s manning the door?”
“Good! It’s good. I should be done in about ten minutes. It’ll probably get busy in about an hour or two but one of the older brothers will man the door then when all the people who got turned away from Red Bull show up. Most of them will probably be let in but there are a few that might cause issues. They’re more familiar with the history of all the frat drama and stuff than I am, which is fine by me. After the week I had, I would like to drink my week away.” Jack leans in and points. “Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen. Soda’s in the fridge and outside in the cooler along with more drinks. Door to the backyard is in the kitchen. There’s a beer pong table outside as well so head in and have a fun time! I’ll see you soon.”
You nod and smile, thanking Jack before following Franco inside. You watch Franco become a social butterfly by saying hi to everyone (because of course he knew everyone) so you make your way to the kitchen. You make a plate of snacks and a drink for yourself and wow. Maybe you should drop out and become a bartender because you can’t even taste the alcohol in your drink. You enjoy your snacks and drink as the music is playing, glancing up seeing the small DJ station set up on the balcony which surprises you but hey. The music is good, drinks are flowing, and food is great so you have no complaints.
You head outside to play beer pong for the first time when Franco finally makes his way over to you with Jack. The first time you were not the best which resulted in you and Franco losing. Determined to win one game, you played again and again. By the fourth time, you were locked in. Everyone was surprised at how good you were but also cheering you on or teasing their friends about losing to you which had you laughing and joining in with the teasing and very playful trash talking which delightfully surprised everyone.
As the night went on, more people arrived as if on cue. Everyone who didn’t make it into Red Bull was coming to Alpine which meant the party was now in full swing. You always had a drink in your hand while also accepting shots from Franco and/or Jack. You would be pulled back to the beer pong table once in a while when someone needed a last minute partner since word had spread around that you were a killer beer pong player but when you weren’t there, you found yourself on the dance floor not giving a single care in the world. You actually talked to people who you never thought you’d talk to in a million years and for once, it wasn’t awkward. All social standings seemed to have disappeared in Alpine’s frat house. In here, you all were a bunch of young adults partying after a week of classes and stress.
You don’t remember when you went from buzzed to tipsy but you were thankful for that transition because by 11:30, Alpine was packed. The house became so unbearably hot while everyone was packed together as sardines. It was near fucking impossible to move but by some miracle, you manage to make your way outside. You sip your drink as you enjoy the cool air while glancing. People at the beer pong table, others sitting around and talking at a table. A few walked to the further part of the backyard and you assume it's because they were going to smoke which is confirmed when someone slips past you, saying a soft ‘excuse me’ and you get a whiff of the weed clinging to their clothes. You scrunch your nose as you shift and wow, the world is so dizzy suddenly. You brace yourself on the nearest surface trying to will the world to settle down and it does.
Yet, people come in and out and say hi to you. There’s no weird looks or second glances. Everyone smiles and is friendly to you. Some even stop and chat with you for a few moments. There’s no malice in their words or some malicious intent. For fuck sakes, some of the frat guys actually pass you and smile at you or tell you that you look “really good”. One or two get bold enough to actually flirt with you. All this positive attention is so new to you that it makes your head spin in confusion though you’re still convinced it was mostly the alcohol making the world spin. Still, you soak it all up while standing outside before you finish your drink and deem that you’re done with drinking alcohol for the night.
Giving yourself a moment, you venture back inside. You try to find Franco, who is currently cozied up with some girl and you squint. It’s hard to make out who exactly he’s with given the dark lighting but when the flashing lights pass over them, you realize it’s the girl he’s been talking nonstop about. When Franco meets your eyes, you give him a bright grin and two thumbs up because yes, you had a small crush on Franco, but he was your best friend first and foremost. Because of that, you wanted nothing but the best for him and if that meant being his cheerleader and keeping yourself entertained while he wooed his crush then so be it. Turning, you make your way into the sea of people to keep yourself entertained when the urge to pee hits. Peeling off into the hallway, you see the line to the bathroom. “Fucking hell.” You murmur.
Glancing back, you think before entering the sea of people to see if you could find Jack and ask if you could use the bathroom upstairs since upstairs was only for the frat members, those sleeping with the frat members, or explicit permission. As you wiggle through the crowd you swear you see Oscar. Looking over, you blink since you don’t see him and think that the alcohol was playing tricks with your head and feeding into your paranoia. Still, your gut twists and you think it’s warning you to leave but you just chalk it up to the alcohol not agreeing with your rising anxiety so you push the thought away. You finally find Jack on the dance floor and make your way over, grabbing his sleeve. “Hey!” You shout over the music to get Jack’s attention. “Can I use the bathroom upstairs? I really gotta pee and I won’t make it on the line!”
“Yeah of course! Do you want me to go with you?”
Your gut says yes Jack should go with you. “No! I’m okay! Just tell me where to go!” You listen to Jack explain when you get upstairs it’s the third door on the left and you thank him before wiggling your way out of the crowd. You stumble slightly when you’re finally free before climbing the stairs slowly but surely. You count the doors before gently knocking and going into the bathroom and see yourself in the mirror and damn. You always thought people were being dramatic when they explain ‘alcohol never hits you till you either stand up or see yourself in the mirror’ but they weren’t kidding. The alcohol really does hit you then as you stare at your reflection and giggle at yourself before turning to the task at hand.
“Someone’s in here!” You shout when there’s a knock on the door as you flush. Washing your hands, you hum gently before turning and trying to find a towel to realize there is no towel. How the hell did the guys survive like this? You shake your hands out slightly into the sink before deciding to grab some toilet paper to dry your hands. Throwing it out, you check yourself over in the mirror once more as the knock on the door sounds like someone pounding. Damn, they must really have to pee. “Okay! Okay!” You say as you fumble to unlock the door before opening it and stopping short when you almost run into the figure.
The figure is standing there in jeans and a black hoodie with a jacket over it but you can tell by the build that it’s a male for sure. Maybe a frat brother who was coming upstairs to skip the line which was understandable. Your breath catches in your throat when you get a whiff of his cologne and he smells so…sweet. Vanilla, buttercream, and cookies. “Oh I’m so sorry!” You look up at the mysterious figure with a smile. Suddenly you are cold stone sober and your smile falls. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Red Bull was having a party tonight. Everyone was there partying. All the big frats and sororities, all the sports kids and those who deemed popular on campus. The only people at Alpine’s right now were Williams, Haas, Martin, the other smaller frats and sororities, you and Franco and whoever Red Bull turned away.
Or, these are the only people that should be here tonight.
Yet, green eyes are looking right at you and you try to leave. Though Lando is faster as he easily cages you against the doorframe. “Well. Well. Well.” Lando murmurs slowly as he tilts his head slightly to study you. He looks you once over and his gaze hardens and his face contorts into disgust when it lands on Franco’s jersey but drops the facial expression when his eyes meet yours again. “There you are. You had me on a little hunt for you when you didn’t show up for our chat. I’ll admit, I was…entertained trying to find you. Luckily for me,” he pauses, “and unluckily for you, I have eyes and ears everywhere on this campus.” Bending down, Lando’s face is so painfully close to yours. You can feel his breath on your lips as he speaks.
“Now. Let’s chat. Okay, bunny?”
tags: @norrisleclercf1, @dripostsstuff, @tinyhrry, @formulaho, @green--beanie, @brekkers-whore,
@taliya8346282844eliviahgdajs, @fat-meh, @landossainz, @jaydensluv, @carpediem241108,
@rayaharper, @bookishnerd1132, @asmoothoperator, @loloekie, @kawaiifurychaos,
@st0rmzi3, @eclipsedcherry, @linnygirl09, @ln4-cl16-world, @poppymelonz,
@katiascraft, @fangirl125reader, @hadesnumber1daughter, @annispamz, @su0aveee,
@strawberryy-kiwii, @landorris, @oikarma, @formula1-motogpfan, @plotpal,
@amalialeclerc, @spikershoyo
#moonlight releases#rich boys don't have hearts#rbdhh#rbdhh installment 1#rbdhh part 3#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#jock!lando norris imagine#jock!lando norris#jock!lando norris x nerd!reader#jock!ln4#jock!ln4 x nerd!reader#ln4 imagine#tw: panic attack#tw: alochol
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True Meaning: Act I, Part II
Isekai teen!reader + Genshin Impact

❥Masterlist
Tags: Panic Attack, Reader has an existential crisis, Agnst with comfort, Arataki Gang being silly :P
Including: Itto, The Arataki Gang, and Kuki Shinobu
word count: 2,522 words
A/n: Heyyyy guess who wrote this in two hours <3 (I'm kinda proud of myself for that) And I would like to thank you for the love on part one of this series <3 and other will be a poll at the end of the story for which twin you guys would like to have as the traveler and if you guys want me to write about the two days the reader had with Itto and the gang leave a comment. This short story will be posted along with my normal uploads.
Pervious | Next
True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡
“Here it is, in all its pride and glory! The Otogi Ramen Stand!” The gang leader said presenting the run-down ramen stall. “Get whatever you’d like we can cover it.” He said with a chuckle. You looked down at the prices, which were between 100 mora and 500. He probably took you here for the cheap price since he doesn't have a deep pocket.
You scanned over the menu looking at all the food but one dish in particular caught your eye. “One bowl of chili oil and beef ramen please.” You heard a gasp behind you as you ordered. Behind you, the boys had their hands on their chests while others had their faces in their hands. They looked like mothers from the 1800s when their kids tells them they're gay. “Um, you guys alright?”
“No! You just disrespected the auxiliary member of the Arataki Gang!” One of the members said while pointing an accusatory finger at you.
Auxiliary member? I don’t remember one of those in the gang. And how would I be disrespecting them by ordering that dish? Maybe I am still dreaming.
“Guys she doesn’t know yet so don’t be too hard on her,” Itto turns back to you. “The Auxiliary Member of the Arataki Gang is my buddy Ushi.” He punches the air and a flash of yellow light appears only to be replaced by a small bull. Ooohhhh, that Ushi! Itto’s bull. “(Y/n), Ushi, Ushi, (Y/n). As you can see Ushi is part bull so we find it a little disrespectful for someone to eat beef.”
“Oh okay, no problem,” You turn back to the seller, “Then instead I will have a chili oil and pork ramen bowl.” The seller, who has been listening to your strange conversation the entire time, gives you a weird look and then makes your bowl for you.
Once it is all paid for by Itto, the gang and you sit down at a table and talk. You don't participate in the conversation that much but you do learn the names of the others in the gang: Akira, Genta, and Mamoru. But you were more focused on the ramen in front of you. It certainly wasn’t the best ramen you’ve had, but it's not the worst. I mean it could use more noodles. It was lacking on that par and- “(Y/n)!”
Snapping out of your food-themed trance you glance back up at the group looking at you like they were waiting for something. “Hm? I’m sorry what were you saying?”
“We were asking if you had any place to stay for the night or were just on the streets?” Mamoru asks.
“Oh, I’m uh, on the streets,” You say putting your head down in shame. You didn’t have a place to go other than that forest area, but that wasn’t the best option.
“How about you stay with me?” Your head snaps up in surprise. You knew Itto was nice in game but you didn’t know he was this nice. “I’ve got one spare bed in my house for ya,”
“But Boss, you only have two beds and one of them is Shinobu’s, she probably won’t like this arrangement.”
“Nocense! Once she sees the noble act I have done for this child she will be proud of me! Plus she’s out for two days so we will have time to come up with a better solution.” He said speed talking the last part.
“I mean as long as I’m not intruding…” you say hesitantly
“Of course not it's my house!” He says a flashes a small at you. “Now come with me, I will show you around!” You said your quick goodbyes to the gang and headed off to Itto’s house.
The first thing you noticed when you got inside was the amount of filth in his house. The sink was filled with dirty dishes, and blankets and pillows were tossed wherever.
“How long ago did your roommate leave?”
“Oh, a day ago,” He says as he grabbed a pillow from the kitchen and dusted it off. He's hopeless without Shinobu, oh my god… There is no way she would have let it get this bad, and within a day he has already managed to wreck the place.
“Anyways, here is where you’ll be sleeping for the time being.” He opened the door to a clean bedroom with a kneeling table in the middle, a futon in the corner, and a dresser on the opposite wall. It was so neat and well put together. You couldn’t even compare it to the natural disaster of a room that was the front room.
“This is so nice…” You walk into the room in awe.
“Yeah, Shinobu is a clean freak, you’ll meet her in 2 days and I’m sure she’ll be happy to meet you and proud of me hehe.” He says with a chuckle. “Oh! And I will get you something to sleep in, I will be right back!” And with that, he dashed off into another room. Leaving you alone. In a room. Of a fictional character's house. Away from home. Away from your family. Friends. Everything you’ve ever cared about and know has gone away from your reach.
Your breathing starts to pick up and the reality of your situation sets in, You are in a dangerous world full of monsters and people who would kill you without a second thought. Why are you here? How is this happening? What do you do when Shinobu comes back to find a stranger in her bed? She’ll probably kick you out and what are you supposed to do then? Your throat tightens up and you feel your self tearing up, you collapse on the floor and hope you disappear. You have no idea what you are doing.
“Woah woah, are you okay.” Itto appears beside you and kneels next to you hesitantly pulling you into his arms. “Hey hey, it’s okay I’m here…” He says trying to comfort you but it doesn’t seem to be helping. “Um, listen I know things are tough right now, and you are a long way from home. But you are strong, and you can make it through this. And don’t worry I can help you every step of the way.”
You look up at him in surprise, “Really?”
“Uh, um… yeah, of course!” He looked like he regretted promising that to you. “Don't worry, for now just get changed and go to sleep. That’s the best thing you can do right now.”
Y-yeah he’s right I just need a bit of sleep to get my mind right.
“Thank you Itto, for everything,” You give him a warm smile and take the yukata from him.
“No problemo sister, anytime!” He says smugly and shoots finger guns at you. “Have a good night and I will see you in the morning.”
The next two days you spent with the Arataki gang were the most fun and the fastest days you’ve had. The first day they took your clothes shopping and ended up getting banned from two shops for improper etiquette. On the second day, they went around challenging children to beetle battles, which caused children to leave crying with less mora than they had originally. This eventually led to Itto getting told off by angry parents. (Let me know if you guys want mini-stories on these events.)
But throughout those two days you still had one thing on your mind. How do you get out of here? Since you knew that sakoku and vision hunt decree were still in act that would mean the traveler hasn’t arrived here yet which is good. Because he could be your ticket out of here. But you had one problem, you had no idea when they would get here. You don’t know if you arrived during their time in Liyue or worse, you guys arrived at the same time. If you arrived at the same time as the traveler, that could be bad for you as it could take a year or two for them to get here. But this fact was out of your control. All you could do was wait a hope they’d come soon.
For now, you were at a restaurant in Inazuma City as the gang said they had something very important they needed to discuss with you. This restaurant was a very middle-class restaurant that would probably have a three-and-a-half review on Yelp, but the price was on the expensive side for Itto and the gang. So they must have had something really important they needed to discuss with you.
You go through dinner with the guys laughing, talking, and enjoying for when Genta nudges the boss and jesters towards you with his head. Itto clears his throat and raises his glass of water while tapping it with a spoon. “Treasured Members of the Arataki Gang, only two days ago have we met this young child all alone in the woods, starving and helpless…”
You quirked your eyebrow up at him, “I wasn’t starving and helples-”
“Starving and helpless!” He pushes a finger in front of your mouth and shushes you. ”And within two days we have nurtured them in a strong individual. This is why I’m pleased to ask, from the gang and myself, if you would like to join the gang of Ara-!” “ARATAKI ITTO!”
A shout vibrates through the restaurant and causes everyone in the restaurant to jump in surprise. The source of the shout was from none other than Kuki Shinobu, the Deputy Officer of the gang.
“Sh-Shinobu! I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!” Itto says with a nervous chuckle.
“I said three days, and I’m back after three days ain’t I?” She says with a dark expression on her face. Her eyes glanced over the table and most of the boys hid their gaze until they landed on you. You don’t know if she is angry at you or what but her eyes never left you. “Itto. Outside. Now.”
“Yes ma’ma.” As they walked away Itto hung his head low in shame. And they walked out of the restaurant and slammed the door behind them. The restaurant hung in an awkward silence until your waiter brought the check out to your table.
“Wait but we're not ready to leave yet,” Genta says to the waitress.
“Um, yes but we are. Please pay your tab and leave, thank you for dining here tonight.” She said nervously while bowing then walked away.
The boys looked at the tab and their faces darkened.
“Shit.”
“Hm? What's wrong?”
“We don’t have the mora for this.”
“Well, how much is it?”
“4,634 mora…”
Shit.
“What were you thinking?! Bringing a kid into the gang, as an official member!?” Kuki Shinobu was currently berating her boss for bringing a kid into the gang without consulting her first. “When Mamoru told me in that letter I couldn’t believe it!”
“But Shinobu you didn’t see how they wer-”
“I didn’t ask for your input, I will allow you to speak when I need you to, yes?”
“Yes…” Itto said dejectedly.
“This has to be the most immature thing you have done in a while and I’ve seen you do some pretty stupid shit. But to bring a child to a gang then allow them to sleep in my room while I was away.” She shook her head at the horned man. “I can’t believe this… Alright, you may defend your case now.”
“Okay, so you see th-,” But before Itto even got a full sentence out Shinobu stopped him.
“Actually, I want to hear this from the kid themself, go get them.” She snapped at him.
Itto let out a sigh, “Fine,” He marched back into the restaurant and grabbed you while the other members frantically figuring out how to pay for this meal. Once you stepped outside and were met with shiobu face to face. She is a short but menacing woman, the mask covering her face made her even more scary.
“My name is Kuki Shinobu, I am the Deputy Officer of the Arataki Gang, you have most likely heard of me through them.” She says gesturing back inside the restaurant. “Now, I'm not mad, I just want to know what's happening. Please tell me your side of the story.” She said giving the floor to you.
“Um, well you see, I was sent on a research mission for the Akademiya here when-…” Kuki listened to your story without interruption and only nodded at you as you explained.
“Hmm, I have a couple of questions. Why don't you go to the Tenryo Commission to take you back?
“I would but it’s still too expensive to go back and I don't have that kind of money right now."
“Hasn’t the akademiya sent a letter to you or anything?”
“In that Strom,” You say pointing to the storm blocking anything from getting in and out of Inazuma. “No.”
“Hm, do you really have nowhere to go?” She says emphasizing 'really'. You shake your head at her. This was the first question you did have to lie to her about. You really didn’t have anywhere to go if Shinobu kicked you out of her house. You didn’t know what you would do… That throat-straining feeling came back to you at that moment.
“Last question, if you were to join the Arataki Gang would not be paid much, and you would have to help around with the gang and keep them out of trouble. But you would be offered a place to stay, eat, and people that have your back. If you are fine with these terms then, would you like to join the Arataki Gang?”
The world stops for a moment, was she offering you a place in the gang? That feeling constricting your heart disappeared and was replaced by an overwhelming joy in your heart. “Y-yes, yes! Absolutely yes!” You rush forward to give her a hug which she hesitantly accepts.
“Hehe, okay let's go back in so we can tell the good news to the boys.” She says smiling with her eyes.
When you walked back into the restaurant you found Itto and the boys hunching over the bill with bags of mora in their hands.
“Come on boys let’s pay the tab and leave.” the masked woman ushers them to hurry.
“We're trying to but, uh, it got a little expensive…”
She quirked her eyebrow up at them. “Hm? Let me see the bill then.” They hesitantly handed her the bill and after one look at it, Shinobu's eyes blew wide open. “4,634 mora…!”
“We’re sorry Shinobu! We swear we will make it up to you but we just need half of that sum for dinner today!”
Shinobu looked like she could kill at any moment right now. “You better or else I’m going to have your heads as dinner the next time!”
You stood behind Shinobu giggling at the fact that a small Japanese woman was lecturing a group of grown men. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if traveler took a little longer to get here…
More Genshin Impact Stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚
True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡
REMEMBER TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON, OBLITERATE THAT FOLLOW BUTTON AND, REQUEST FOR A SHOUT-OUT IN MY NEXT VIDEO 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥
#genshin impact#genshin x teen reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin#platonic genshin x reader#genshin x child reader#platonic#genshin sagau#genshin isekai#itto x teen reader#itto x reader#arataki itto#genshin impact itto#kuki shinobu#kuki shinobu x reader#kuki shinobu x teen reader#ushi#platonic genshin impact#genshin impact kuki shinobu#tw: panic attack#angst#angst with comfort#REMEMBER TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON#OBLITERATE THAT FOLLOW BUTTON AND#REQUEST FOR A SHOUT-OUT IN MY NEXT VIDEO 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥#true meaning
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Simply Miraculous - Teaser Trailer
TW: nudity (not explicit), panic attack





*Cue intro music*
I’m excited to start making this into a comic! Do keep in mind that this is going to be a mature comic with adult themes like insinuations of rape and sexual assault; panic attacks; anorexia; sexual themes; drug use/abuse; bullying; death; gore; PTSD, and other stuff. This is not to glorify these things, but to bring to life these issues, gives the characters more human depth. Anyway, enjoy!!
#simply miraculous au#miraculous#miraculous au#miraculous fandom#simply miraculous headcanons#simply miraculous comic#miraculous redesign#miraculous but as adults#dark miraculous au#artwork#kailee draws stuff#tw: nudity#tw: panic attack
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𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧
“Interesting, this one came out early. :) I’m add this to my AO3.” - Ichor
Summary - “You give the Emissaries Imperatus an written envelope, only to end up with more than you're comfortable with.”
“@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”
“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000.” - Tagged
TW // Controlled Panic?
||Words: 2.5k || {Chapter I} - {Chapter III}
Your eyes watch the standing golden knight in front of you. Skimming over any detail that his still armor could give you. Your mind debating on even attempting to… make contact with the custodian as you shift in your seat, trying to get comfortable despite the soreness in your side. The same question popping up in your mind.
Can you just up and trust this- these golden beings that don’t belong? Can you trust the unknown? Can you trust them on watching over Eden, would they even do it? Would they even accept a written proposal from you? You don’t even trust them enough with your own voice…
“Speak your mind, little one.” The aquamarine visor of the golden knight glows a bit brighter on acknowledging you with a male, modified voice. That weird… what do they call it? Feathers? Plume? That red plume of theirs waving softly behind their cone-like helmet as the vent system of the mansion keeps the small library-like office cool. In fact, it is the only area in the whole mansion that was cold and very much protected by the golden knights for a reason your mind cannot grasp.
You don’t give a hum or a movement of acknowledgement to the golden knight, but your eyes? They do. They search him, judge him, strike him down if they could. You wanted information on the one that seems to be the… messenger of the group. Even if you would like to know more: where they come from, their purpose, but you know you’re limited by things unseen. Things that shouldn’t be true. Things that make you have a migraine just thinking of the golden knights. It’s preposterous, and cruel in its way.
“Come now,” The golden knight encourages you. His modified voice deep, rumbling, something that seems it was a genetic tone for them to have, including the Astartes. Yet his seemed to be more smoother; softer. You suppose not all are a copy and paste. There is something in them the makes them different like how all humans don’t have the same finger prints. “You do not sit there to stare at any one of us. You need something.”
His words speak truth. You were never one to just stare blankly. If anything, that was a trick to any on lookers, but these keen beings have read you just as you have read them. Well, in body language. There was nothing in books that could explain these beings. However, do you really need something? Were you really desperate enough to seek something they could provide? That is even if they accept your proposal, but you weren’t going to take a denial for an answer. If these beings stayed around this hellish household, they can made do on your proposal.
Your eyes shift up to his glowing visor, staring him down with such intensity from where you lounge on the dark brown leather chair that it makes him tilt his head to a centimeter to the side. Another thing you notice these beings having a same habit of doing. Always tilting their helmets when they seem curious of something in front of them that causes the head tilt.
Then, you stand. A bit tense at first, but the more steps you dare to take to be in front of the golden knight? The more your form is… unseeingly: hidden, more… confident. Your head having to tilt back and look up at him while he has to lean a bit to look down at you, and the both of you just stare at one another for a moment. His form shifting; straightening up. His eyes beneath his helmet watching as your hand reaches into your back pocket and bringing out on envelope with a wax seal on it. Your hand positioning the envelope where he can clearly see it as he was dumb enough to not to.
You keep the envelope in front of him, making sure that he is absolutely seeing it. You were not going to play around on this deal that you wouldn’t even have done, but your hand is forced. You would not be there for Eden, even if you wanted to. It was just not possible with your position. You are at a barrier with your family and you have other stuff going on that needed your attention. So, there guys are really your own best bet in this situation. If not? You suppose an Alpha Legionnaire wouldn’t mind taking that place. At least, until she finds her own bond or that Astartes might get lucky, who knows. You’re not against a bond, but you are not keen of one either, for yourself anyways.
The Custodies lifts his gauntlet slowly to take the small envelope into his armored fingers. Seemingly not wanting to scare you away as he was the height of a damn skyscraper, and he knows you feel a bit… differently about them. You’re not that easily swayed with whatever the warp holds over this ancient Terra like a regular baseline. Your little mind subconsciously notices they don’t belong.
You turn away from him when he takes the envelope, walking back to the chair and just stopping just before the end table off to the side. A cream colored, touched activated table lamp lighting up the area a bit more as the sun starts to set for the day through the picture window. The oak trees swaying slightly outside at the nighttime breeze. Your form leaning a bit to pick up a book upon the end table and flip through it for a second. Thinking of what you have done today while you hear the Golden Knight open your envelope.
You have gone out in the early morning, the air still crisp with frost. Your breath able to still make a cloud of carbon into the air that brings a certain nostalgia over you as mourning doves coo out, greeting the new day. It’s soft sounds definitely better than a rooster screaming at the crack of dawn. That would no doubt awaken the Golden Knights quick, not that you were sure they even sleep… You swear that Shadow Keeper doesn’t. You get caught by that one in the middle of the night all the time. You also get caught by that Solar Watch too, if you wandered a bit far from the property, but hey. That gave you a pattern to put them down on, sort of.
The Shadow Keeper liked sticking close to your places that one would find you mostly in like your bedroom and the current room you’re in present time. The Emissaries Imperatus liked being in areas where there was… knowledge? Like again, the current room you’re in: the office-like library. Aquilan Shield liked to try and follow you around, no matter if it was a singular step for him to do so, or if your family was near. (That always ended up in some sort of disaster.) The Dreaded Host? He was a bit more tricky one, but you mostly see him placing himself where the highest… damage could be done, verbal or not, and the Solar Watch? He is like the wanderer of the outskirts. Always keeping an eye on what comes in and what goes. So, you had no doubt that he had saw you leaving the property this morning. It was hard to avoid their watchful eyes, but you have ignored them long enough to not care too much. They at least don’t snitch on you. Well, as far as you know. You feel like they snitch on you to each other when you’re out of your… “boundaries.” Something that seemed unusual of you to do. That Aquilan Shield always seeming to know where to go to find you; scaring some Astartes and humans alike around you away, and that annoys you to no end. You have business: work to attend to. You know not to rely on your failing father.
Besides that, you have gone out into the world. Walking out onto the paved driveway with a few cars like a black BMW, deep red Ferrari and a couple more expensive cars sitting out in the driveway that belonged to your father and some annoying partygoers. Your form simply walking past the (rather unimpressive) cars and walking down the mile long driveway with just a landscape of fresh cut lawn. The lawnmower hire coming in the early mornings to finish the job they do rather good at for getting paid practically nothing. You feel bad for them, and sometimes even pay the man personally for his hard work which in return you get a praise from him. “You’re too kind.” He would say, and for some reason, that clenches at your heart. Were you really kind or were you just… masked sympathetic?
You shake your head in that moment of time, dismissing the thought quickly. Your form taking the sidewalk at the end of the driveway. Doing your duties that you set upon yourself like: picking up some lunch, checking up on Eden at a public school with said lunch and just do some personal things that you thought that was well earned of you. Indulging into things that could give you a bit more of a fraction of happiness into your soul. It wouldn’t be a whole lot as you could regret such a purchase later, but it was something, right? To at least feel something of what you could call your own?
You jump softly as you feel something wraps around your waist, snapping you quickly out of your thoughts of the day. Your heart jumping up in your own chest as you glance up and behind you while you get pulled back into a cold material, getting an eyeful of a glaring gold in your vision. Your face giving a wince at the bit of the contact, not at all used to it. Your form tensing up and twitching slightly as if expecting to be hit or on uncomfortable and/or uncommon grounds.
“You are injured, little one.” The golden knight rumbles down into the top of your head, his helmet blocking the breath that would have ruffled your hair. His body having to curl around you and kind of fit you underneath him like a puzzle piece. It was… it was strange, something you never experienced to much of. Was it a hug? Was he trapping you? Was he trapping you then going to throw you off a cliff? It just all felt… uncomfortable. You don’t think you would allow such… actions, but again, you’re forced to test even your own boundaries. You don’t like it. “Why?”
You don’t answer him, you never have. Why should you now? All just because he was claiming; assuming you to be injured? Why can’t they just back off for once? Why can’t anyone? Why do people have to be such drama seekers? Why can’t they just leave you alone? Stop calling you names-
“Little one.” He sighs and you inhale through your teeth. A sharp sting shooting up through your nerves, causing you to wince and twitch away again. Trying to get away from his prodding touch. It was gentle, but not gentle enough to your mind. Your body spinning around; quick to stick something into the Custodies gorget.
A dull sound rings out then just the sound of your breathing is heard as he lets go of you rather slowly, unaffected. Leaning back up again to his full height. Your own heart giving quick, rhythmic beats into your own ears as you back away from the Custodies immediately. Your feet heading for the closest exit. A low, repetitive-like zap barely just being heard over your own heart.
You watch with panicking eyes as the Custodies slowly rises his gauntlet up once more, towards his gorget. Seemingly… not surprised by what you have stuck him with. Simply pulling out the taser you kept on you for defense for all types, but clearly it didn’t work for the armored beings…Though, you should have expected that with a logical mind. His visor dulling, looking down at you as if you’re some piece of meat. “…I see, little one.”
You’re not sure if you should be running for your life now or just keep still like a deer in headlights. Perhaps even hide yourself in your own room until you starve within it by yourself. You’re unsure of what these beings would do to you after you ruined a chip of their precious armor. They were always unpredictable. You can’t find anything on them, and that unknown scares you.
“…We accept your proposition.” He speaks again, making you shift in your spot with unease as he crushed your defense object with undeniable deftness. The hairs all over your body going up. Not at all soothed by his words. “However, we would like to make one as well.”
You narrow your eyes at him, and you know full well that you shouldn’t. Not after sticking a god damn taser into a piece of his armor just a few minutes ago. Sure, you had the stoicism against your family, against the world, but them? Golden beings of the unknown? Your own feelings, your own personal boundaries don’t stand a chance. All the more reason to be untrusting of what they were about to propose to you as well.
“Allow the Shadow Keeper: Celsus Varon into your personal quarters.”
You and your own heart pause, a bit surprised at that request and incredibly stressed by it. You didn’t allow anyone in your personal- er bedroom. Not even a maid. The closest anyone has gotten was just standing right outside of it. You hated to think anyone would barge right in a take anything they wanted from you, not that one had tired yet, thankfully. They think you’re poor: a maid. Yet, what would an custodies need from you that would be in your room? Why would they want to be in your room at all?
A heavy sigh escapes you. Out of trying to calm yourself and at the situation that you put yourself in. You mind trying to think through the mental panic attack that you were having. Trying to get the pros and the cons of this… and well? There wasn’t much, but you wish there was. You wish there was something that you could pin these being down with, but they prove to be innocent until proven guilty.
You nod very slowly, very hesitant to even accept such demand in order for your own to be fulfilled before instantly heading for the exit of the room, nearly running into the damned Shadow Keeper as you quickly turn away from him too. Not wanting to be in a room with that custodies any longer, or with any custodies for that matter. You can handle Astartes, but you can’t stand a custodes.
God, you need to move out. Get a place to yourself. Maybe that would take the custodies off your back? Take everyone off your back? To be in your own world that others don’t have to worry about you? That sounds so pleasing, but atlas. The world, fate- whatever it is likes to keep playing its own, cruel game to play with your own life.
#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry sentience#adeptus custodes#adeptus custodes x reader#polyamory#third person pov#second person pov#oc: sabinus ventura#emissaries imperatus#oc: celsus varon#shadow keeper#oc: atlas ectorius#aquilan shield#oc: pythios erős#dread host#oc: horos ectorius#solar watch#tw: panic attack
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Trailer Park Steve AU part 7
part 1 | part 6 | chapter 1 on ao3
cw: panic attack, ptsd flashback to minor character death, graphic depictions of… food? lol
Dinner is exactly as chaotic as Steve expected it to be. He and Claudia take opposite end seats with a glass of red wine each, and the kids take the middle and start acting like a pack of caffeinated raccoons: talking over each other, scraping forks against plates, stretching their entire upper bodies across the table and dragging their sleeves through the side dishes instead of just asking someone to pass them the butter; Steve’s starting to wonder if any of these kids have ever eaten at a table before, or if they maybe just wandered in from the surrounding woods. Feral asses.
When they do start asking for things, he regrets wishing they would, because Lucas goes “Erica, can you pass me the salt?” and Erica sneers “I don’t know, can I?” and Mike jabs “Whatever; nobody says ‘may’ anymore, you dork” and Claudia gasps “Michael!” and it all escalates from there until Dustin tries to catapult lasagna off the end of his fork and hits Steve in the side of the head with a glob of warm cheese.
Silence falls around the room.
The cheese plops onto his plate.
“Sh-ii-it,” Dustin breathes, face stuck in wide-eyed shock.
Steve gives Claudia an imploring look.
“Why don’t we clear the table for dessert?”
The commotion starts up again in double time, everyone scrambling to clean up and clear the room before Steve starts bitching about them messing up his hair (and his plate, and his clothes, because the cheese splash sent a spray of little tomato sauce droplets splattering all over him, and isn’t that just perfect; he’s gonna have to hand-scrub the stain out of his khakis), so it’s just him and Dustin left when Dustin’s elbow catches and tips over his wine.
The liquid spills onto his plate: dark, and red, oozing into the uneaten scraps of sauce and cheese and pasta to form a viscous, fleshy sludge. Red like his dad’s office, like his father’s mangled thigh, and it’s just food it’s just food it’s not blood it’s not blood but he can’t fucking breathe, can’t hearing anything beyond the wet, gasping sounds his dad made the night he died, and then he realizes that he’s making them, mouth moving fruitlessly around air that won’t pass, trapped in the bottleneck of his choked-off windpipe.
“Steve?” Dustin asks, and his voice sounds far away. “Shit, shit, Steve! Can you hear me? Are you choking? I know the Heimlich, just- just hold on!”
He snaps out of it when Dustin pulls him halfway from his chair, gets his fists under his ribs and all but punches the air from his lungs. It sets off a nasty coughing fit that leaves Steve snotty and ready to hurl, and he braces himself with his forearms on his knees and stares hard at the ground until the hacking finally stops.
There’s a scuff on his sneakers.
He can’t replace them any time soon.
A moment to catch his breath, and Dustin’s shaking him by the shoulders. “Are you okay??”
Steve keeps his head bowed. “Yeah.” He needs to get the fuck out of here. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He rises from his chair, grateful that everyone else already cleared out before they could witness his little moment, that the blare of the TV from the family room covered the sound of his retching coughs; more grateful still that they won’t notice him now, scampering out of here with his tail between his legs. “Hey listen, man, I’m not feeling so well,” he says absently, fishing his keys from the pocket of his jeans. “Can you get your mom to drive everyone home?”
“Shouldn’t you stay?” Dustin frowns in concern. “If you’re sick? You can go lie down in my room or something, it’s—”
“—Nah, man; I mean, thanks, but…” His hand trembles around his keys, the muscles in his calves screaming bolt, bolt, bolt. “I just- I gotta go.”
He makes a break for it, rushing out the side door so no one else will see him leave (and he knows it’s fucking rude to head out without saying goodbye, but he’s also pretty convinced he’s going to combust if he doesn’t go right now.) “Tell your mom I said thanks, okay?”
“Tell her yourself!” Dustin chases after him, clumsy and slow across the darkened yard. “Dude, will you slow down? Talk to me!”
Steve throws himself into his car like there’s a demodog on his heels. “I’ll call you!”
“What the fuck!” Dustin shouts, but Steve’s already gone.
—
part 8
tagging a few people i know have been following along 🩷 @slowandsteddie @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @pennyplainknits @ledleaf @hellion-child @formosusiniquis @missjashin @runninriot @xpaperheartso @steddieas-shegoes
#trailer park steve au#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#steddie fic#steve harrington fic#dustin henderson#claudia henderson#lucas sinclair#erica sinclair#mike wheeler#tw: panic attack#tw: ptsd
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reader who had a anxiety attack when like out w friends or smth and has to like shakily call remy to pick him up and is doing so bad at explaining bc hes just like sitting in a corner somewhere shaky or wtv
ill silence now. (until later…) 🦕
hehehehehehehehehehe angst timeeeeee hahahahahahaha *evil laugh goes here*

Calling him.
Getting drinks without Remy holding your hand was going fine. It was going great. Everything was fine. You and your friends were chatting. You talked about how you had a boyfriend now and how happy you were being his boyfriend. Your friends talked about their lives and bought more drinks. Everything was great.
Then someone started shouting in the kitchen and then a car backfired outside. Your heart started to speed up but everything was fine, right? Right?! You did the breathing exercises Remy had gone over with you last time but then one of your friends started yelling at some guy nearby. You didn’t even know what had happened.
You were fine though. Everything was going to be okay.
And then someone dropped a glass.
That was it.
Your heart rate started speeding. Your hands got clammy and it was so stupid. You couldn’t breathe and you just needed out. Tears were falling down your cheeks. You clambered up from your chair and rushed into the bathroom, bumping into everything that was in your way.
You stumbled into the bathroom and slipped into one of the cubicles, locked it and sat down on the toilet lid. What were you meant to do?
Call Remy. He always said to call him.
With shaking hands, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and managed to dial his number.
Ring, ring, ri-
“Baby, baby, whats wrong?” He asked over the phone.
You breathed a sigh of relief and tried to talk. You cleared your throat and tried again.
“Need-need to get-,” you tried to say as your throat closed up again.
“Cherie, what’s wrong? Cherie?” He pushed gently.
You could hear the twirling of his favourite card, the King of Hearts. He always did that when he was nervous. You hated when you made him nervous.
“Nee- need to ge- get picked up,” you managed to mumble out.
That same split second, you heard him picking up his keys and rushing to the door. You could hear his footsteps running towards his car.
“Baby, stay there, okay? Pandye an ladann ti bebe a!”
You heard his car start and you nodded before remembering it was a voice call.
“Ye-yes, I’ll stay put,” you said quickly.
“Bòn,” he said quickly before hanging up.
You turned your phone off and started rocking back and forth as you waited. You hadn’t gone too far from home so he hopefully wouldn’t be long. You tried his breathing exercises again and they started to slowly work but you just wanted to be in his arms.
A few minutes later, you heard familiar yelling. You couldn’t make out much but you heard where’s my boyfriend, asshole! You tried to make a sound but you just couldn’t, too scared you’d start crying again.
Eventually, the bathroom door was slammed open and he knocked on your cubicle door.
“Cherie? You in there, my love?”
You scrambled up and unlocked the door. He nudged it open and then pulled you into his arms. He felt so safe. He was always safe.
He led you outside and to his car and into the passenger seat. You curled up and wiped your eyes.
“You’re safe now, ti bebe.”
#gambit x male reader#remy lebeau x male reader#remy lebeau x reader#stormy writes things#x reader#x m!reader#x male reader#gambit x reader#tw: panic attack#🦕 anon
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The way I relate to Lilia's fear of death is probably one of the things that makes me love her so much bc every time I think too much abt death I have a panic attack but watching Lilia overcome her fear and eventually accept death was kinda inspirational and now I want to be as strong as her and accept the fact that my existence is limited and I have to make worth the time I have
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I haven’t been able to write anything for the last few days. Every time I open the document I can’t make the words appear on the page. Today I finally had a little bit of inspiration so I’m sharing some of my bucktommy beach date fic. Hope you like it. 🌊🌊
“Here we are.” Tommy announces pulling into the parking lot of the quiet beach. Jumping out the car to gather the supplies from the truck bed. His excitement makes him unaware of the discomfort Evan is desperately trying to hide.
The fidgeting hands and the rapidly increasing breathing goes unnoticed as Tommy loads up the picnic basket, blanket and bags. Evan takes a deep breathe and exits the car onto shaky legs, pasting a smile on his face. Evan watches the water as Tommy rounds the car his smile bright until he notices the paleness of Evan’s face. The unfocused stare and the quick, rapid gasps.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Tommy asks dropping everything in his arms and grasping Evan’s hands, standing in his eyeline and blocking his view of the ocean. “Evan, sweetheart. Please talk to me.” Tommy begs worried about the distant gaze and the shallow breathing that Evan is displaying. Tommy steps closer to Evan placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing a thumb across Evan’s clammy cheek. “Evan, let’s get you back in the car baby. There we go, sit down for me. Good boy.” Tommy says softly opening the passenger door and guiding an unresponsive Evan into his seat. Placing the long legs he so loves carefully into the car Tommy closes the door, fear and worry coursing through him. He has never seen Evan like this before. Grabbing all the things he dropped and throwing them into the truck bed, Tommy races around to the drivers side and jumps in. Reversing quickly with no plans other than to get Evan as far from the ocean as he can.
Tommy grips the steering wheel and wonders what he can do to help Evan. He is pretty sure he is having a panic attack or a ptsd episode, he remembers vividly the ones his some of his platoon members experienced during his army days, Tommy just isn’t sure what has trigged this in Evan. The cause, he knows, is secondary to finding a place to take Evan to feel safe again. Somewhere away from the beach, somewhere open incase Evan is feeling claustrophobic at all. Tommy looks over at Evan, he can see his mouth moving but his voice is so quiet he can’t make out what is being said. Spotting a park ahead Tommy reaches over and places a hand on Evan’s cold, shaky arm. “Almost there baby. Just give me a sec and I’ll help get you through this.” Tommy says trying to remain calm despite the worry roiling in his stomach.
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|| moon river. || part. xiii. ||



|| masterpost || part xii. || part xiv. || ao3 ||
“Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." David Foster Wallace. pairing: Levi x fem bodied reader chapter content: modern au, coworkers au, suggestive themes, SMUT (we're having vanilla loving intercourse okay), unfaithfulness themes (there is no cheating!), alcohol/drinking, fluff paired with heavy angst, cliffhanger warning, self deprecating thoughts, Levi's sad sad past, reader's respective past, the kids are Fighting, description of a panic/anxiety attack, mentions of previous death and related traumas, terminal illness mention, this chapter is equally cute as it is dark man, jealousy, did not beta this one we are dying like men, minors/ageless blog do not interact. summary: in which levi gets a little jealous. wc: 11.7k a/n: there will be no warning, only chapter appearing on your dash. after two and a half years, I am back writing this story. thank you, YOU I AM TALKING DIRECTLY TO YOU, for sticking around so patiently for this update. I love this story with my entire heart and soul. thank you for loving it as much as I do. I hope you enjoy.

“Have you ever thought about where you’ll be in five years?”
The question catches you off guard, shattering the comfortable silence hanging in perfect fragility of the moment. The sun is scorching hot, and you’re absolutely positive the intense rays are leaving burns on your exposed body. The sky is cloudless, the sand beneath you is baking in the heat, you find absolutely no relief in your lounging form, or solace in the dampened towel under the backs of your legs. There’s a breeze, not strong enough to bring forth a chill, but just enough of one to dance and tickle its way through your ears.
As soon as Mikasa is done with this conversation, you’re sprinting full speed into the lake directly in front of you. You feel as though you’re laying in fire sunbathing on this beach.
“Not really,” You say nonchalantly. “You?”
“Yeah. I think about it all the time, actually.” Her gaze is transfixed straight ahead towards the gentle waves caressing the shoreline, leaning so comfortably back in her beach chair.
“Where do you think you’ll be?” You redirect her question.
Your sight is hinged in deep oranges, a side effect of the sunglasses perched over your eyes, but it doesn’t obstruct the view of Mikasa’s gentle smile as she responds, “Here. Owning a big house, being a doctor, maybe I’ll be married or something.”
“Definitely married,” You chuckle. “You’re already getting proposals.”
“Jean asking me out on a date is not a proposal,” She crosses her arms.
“You should go out with him, he seems nice!”
“He blushes every single time he sees me. It’s embarrassing.”
“I think it’s sweet!”
“I don’t.”
The two of you share a look and erupt into laughter. You shake your head, “Fine, fine. Who are you getting hitched to in your dream future?”
“Well, Eren and I have been close almost our entire lives,” Mikasa muses cautiously.
“Eren is a full blown idiot.”
“He’s cute,” She defends.
“Mika,” Your tone deepens. “He’s not worth your time or energy.”
“Yeah well, he was worth yours, wasn’t he?”
The sour expression painted across her face is painful enough to look at, but accompanied by the venom on her tongue, the hurt you feel is comparable to being stabbed in the chest. Your heart tightens at the internal pain.
Eren is just your friend these days. He is nothing more and nothing less.
“I’m sorry,” Mikasa sighs. “I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s okay.” It’s not, but you tell her this anyway.
“I’ve just always liked him, you know? Even if he doesn’t feel the same, I can’t help it. I just do.”
You nod, “I get it. I just think you deserve someone who’s head over heels for you.”
“Yeah, well, he is for you isn’t he?” She digs her toes in the hot sand and allows your silence to settle the topic. She fills the air, “So anyways, five years, where are you?”
Your eyes float away towards the glimmering water before you. It’s nearly blinding, the way the rays bounce off the waves in full opacity. The lake almost looks black in color beneath the sparkles.
“In five years,” You start slowly. “I really don’t know. Probably here, just like you.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No.”
“So then you know what you want.”
“I want to be somewhere new,” Your lips lift into a sad smile. “Meeting new people, exploring the world, all that sappy stuff. Maybe I’ll be able to do it with my degree, that’d be really cool.”
“It would be,” She nods. “Then I could travel with you to all those places, visit you wherever you settle down. Maybe we could be pen pals.”
You close your eyes. Mikasa has no idea. “Pen pals, that’d be cute.”
“You’ll have an art gallery in every major city,” She continues excitedly. “Critics will be raving about you. I can see it now.”
“Not even the best artists get those kinds of reviews.”
“You will though. I’m sure of it.”
“I’ll miss you,” You try your best to disguise your growing tears as a chuckle, as choked up as it may sound.
“We’ll talk every day,” She states. “You won’t miss me that much. It’ll be like I’m right there with you, wherever you are.”
“Let’s not talk about it anymore, I’m getting emotional just thinking about it.” Because this isn’t a five year plan, you’re leaving soon and she has no idea.
“Okay, fine,” Mikasa shakes her head, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Only because I don’t want to get emotional either. Just know you have my full support.”
“And I just want you to know,” You take a deep, staggering breath. “That I really love you, Mika. I always will.”
She slaps her palm against your bare bicep, “I just said I don’t want to cry! Stop it!”
You laugh, “Okay! Okay! I just had to tell you!” In case you never get the opportunity to again.
“And I just have to tell you right now, whoever is the last one in that water, has to be the one to go on that date with Jean.”
She bolts out of her chair with a ferocity comparable to a lightning strike. Your jaw drops and you scramble to your feet, screaming after her, “That’s not fair! I don’t even like Jean!”
Mikasa is already at the bank of the lake when you finish shouting, bare feet colliding with the tender waves that melt on the shore.
-
You’re awake, yet the memory continues to play behind your closed eyelids. That day spent at the lake was one of your last moments with your beloved friend, and it’s not a day you often like to dwell on. It’s too painful to remember. How completely unaware Mikasa had been of your plans, yet so in tuned to you, like she had known all along.
How strange that you think of her now, of that specific memory. You mull it over for a brief second, remembering how freezing cold the water was beating against your knees, how soft the sand was under your toes. Mikasa’s face is the only detail that seems blurry, and you realize it’s fading. It’s been well over a year since that day. You don’t know how to feel about that.
A fingertip tracing your spine jolts your body forward, a quiet gasp releasing from your lips. You hear a thick chuckle behind you, “Sorry, did I scare you?”
You turn over onto your back, Levi’s straying finger blossoming into a full palm on your stomach, and you hum, “Maybe.”
Levi smiles in response, eyes heavy and drooping, “Too bad.”
Entirely distracted now from your previous thoughts, you shimmy closer to Levi’s bare chest, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. “You’ve got a lot of attitude going on right now, not sure if I like it.”
“Is this a complaint?”
“Formally, no. Just a critique.”
“Hm. I don’t accept those.”
“Critiques?”
“Complaints,” he corrects.
You nip at the skin of his shoulder, “What would you call this exchange then?”
Levi grasps your chin, angling your face towards his, “A disagreement.”
“And how do you plan on addressing this problem?”
“Like this.”
His lips are swollen from sleep, and so entrancingly soft as his head dips down to meet yours. He kisses you slowly, his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth, swiping sneakily past the barrier to prod at your bottom lip. You melt, bidding a goodbye to your sarcasm to fall under Levi’s spell.
“What are you doing today?” He murmurs against your mouth.
“Working,” You respond, trying to recapture his kiss.
He leans away playfully, “What a coincidence, me too.”
“Levi,” You pout. “Stop teasing.”
“Teasing? Me?” His wrist rises, thumb grazing the underside of your chin. He gently sucks in a puff of air, your focus darting to the sliver of tongue that appears when his mouth parts. “I’m just trying to talk to you, jolie fille.”
(Pretty girl.)
“Talk to me later,” You mumble, leaning in closer. “This is a priorité.”
(Priority.)
“Look at you,” Levi chuckles. “En utilisant vos mots, une fille si intelligente.”
(Using your words, such a smart girl.)
You roll your eyes, unknowing and uncaring to what he even said, and press your lips to his once more. Levi succumbs valiantly, you think, his hand trailing down to caress your neck, keeping you trapped in your embrace.
Would it be too much to tell him you loved him again? You’re tempted, and it would be so easy — pulling away when the troublesome need to breathe surfaced, the skin of your mouth still entangled with his, so softly brushing against one another as you speak those words, “I love you, Levi” — no, it’s too much. Too soon.
You don’t regret telling him so rashly last night, entirely lost in the throes of heat and pleasure and passion. You do wish you had made the sentiment more meaningful though.
You’ll have plenty more opportunities to do just that, you think. To tell him you love him.
“So soft,” Levi purrs, delicately sucking your bottom lip. “Maybe you were right. We can talk later.”
A whine gets trapped behind your teeth when his fingers tighten around your throat, squeezing lazily. Fire ignites in your sleepy body, your eyelids fluttering and breathing shallow. It’s ridiculous how much of an effect Levi has on you. Although, you suppose that must be love. Or at the very least, lust, and that is an emotion you are not hesitant to express.
Something changes when he locks his eyes to yours, his hand beginning its descent down your goosebump ridden skin. He halts his motions, a look of worry painting his expression. Your eyebrows furrow, a look of confusion on yours.
“Maybe we should talk,” Levi says after a moment of silence. “About last night.”
That fire flooding your veins turns into frigid ice. The juxtaposition of temperature kills any of the previous budding desire in your core, and in an attempt to recapture it, you shake your head. There’s no need to talk about anything.
Levi presses his hands to the tops of your shoulders, immobilizing you from chasing after his kiss again, “We need to talk about what happened.”
“I told you already, last night,” You resign. “I called a friend from home. She didn’t answer.”
He sighs your name, “Have you talked to her since you left?”
It’d be a lot easier to lie if Levi wasn’t looking at you so intently, so full of care and worry. You tell the truth, “No. I haven’t talked to anyone. Kind of ruins the mystery of running away from home.”
He skips past your poor excuse of a joke, “That’s why you were crying then.”
“Yeah.” You close your eyes.
“You miss her.” Not posed as a question, just a simple observation.
“Of course.”
“Maybe she’ll call back,” He murmurs, and when you open your lids and peer at his face, his expression is vacant.
“I called her to talk about you,” You say slowly. “I wanted to tell her about us.”
Levi blows a humored breath out of his nose, “How cute.”
“It was mostly to brag. You’re really hot and we have incredible sex.”
That elicits a change in his features, the playfulness returning into his eyes, “How modest of you.”
“What can I say? I am nothing but humble.”
“If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”
“You wouldn’t describe me as such? Ouch.”
“There’s a lot of words to describe you, but modest and humble aren’t at the top of my list.”
“Of course, how could they when the list starts at beautiful, intelligent, hilarious, captivating—“
“Just do me a favor,” Levi turns serious one final time, laying his forehead against yours. “If you need to cry, don’t run away. I can handle a few tears.”
You soften, “What if there’s a lot of them? What if I have snot all over my face and I cry really ugly?”
“Anything, I can handle it. Just don’t run away from me, okay?”
There’s something swirling in his silver eyes, something you can’t place. Fear, maybe.
“Okay,” You breathe.
“Okay,” He says. His thumb swipes across your jaw, grazing the shell of your ear. “Your breath stinks, by the way.”
You roll your eyes, pulling away from his embrace, “So does yours, asshole. C’mon, let’s go get ready for the day.”
-
You’ve worked an uncountable amount of shifts beside Levi, but tonight feels much different than any previous times. Maybe it’s due to the fact that his eyes never leave you once — truthfully, they never have, as Levi was always expecting you to fuck up crafting a drink, or to trip and fall and break something, including yourself. Or maybe it’s because he’s being incredibly bold tonight, trailing his fingers along your back as he brushes behind you, leaning in extra close to your face when you speak to him about a customer’s drink order.
But it’s probably different because of the undeniable fact you are in love with him and you are the one unable to keep your gaze off of Levi. You aren’t a master of subtlety, that much you can admit, but you feel that you’re making your yearning extra obvious tonight.
It’s not exactly a secret you and Levi are fucking each other anymore anyways. Hange and Petra know, even Claude, who sits smugly at his usual stool, fifty dollars richer than he was before all thanks to his winning bet.
You still need to find out what this bet was exactly. It’s eating away at you in the same way you’d be unable to remember if you left the faucet running at home. Stuck lingering in the back of your mind, it’s a nuisance of a thought.
Levi has this stupid, and probably right, idea that you two need to be professional at work. What a joke, since he nearly fucked you raw in Hange’s office a few weeks ago. Now he wants to play the perfect angel, all sweet and compliant?
Realistically, if this kind of relationship between boss and employee had happened in any other job setting, you’d both be sitting in some office, tails between your legs while you recounted your indiscretions to a Human Resources representative. However, in your special case, said representative caught you red handed and spread open on their desk and laughed in your face.
So you feel entitled to the opinion Levi is going for overkill with the elusive displays of affection. Sure, when he dipped closer to your face to understand your speech you did try to pucker your lips and kiss him. Yeah, it’s understandable he pulled away, a customer standing directly in front of you. But who cares? Everyone already knows anyway.
You pause in the middle of your thought process, uncorking a bottle of wine. What do they know exactly? Do they think of the two of you as a fling, or something more serious? What is the definition of you and Levi anyways? Is the naming of a title something that concerns you now? What do they think? What does Levi think? What do you think?
You flicker a glance to the ravenette, speaking loudly to a patron. It wouldn’t be so bad to be his girlfriend, you think. Girlfriend feels so childish though, but friend doesn’t seem serious enough. Fuck-buddy is off the table with the L-bomb being dropped. Partner would imply years of history. Any other title requires a formality both you and Levi are definitely not ready for.
So where does this leave you? Why do you suddenly care so much about what the two of you are, and what others may think?
Maybe, you ponder, you feel this way because no one has been solely yours before. Any romantic conquests in your past have been defined by noncommittal ambiguity, a do not ask and do not talk about policy. You have never truly claimed a lover, not in the permanent sense.
You think of Eren, of all the awkward fumblings and inquisitive explorations, the lack of feelings and passion. You ponder what it meant to be a young girl discovering her sexuality and romantic feelings, and finding nothing of substance at the time. Sure, Eren was fun, but what did it mean?
It meant that you knew what love would really feel like when it finally rolled around, you decide. Not that you didn’t hold love for your friend, but it wasn’t – Levi. Levi, who urges you to self-reflect and dissect your past to build a solid foundation for your — well, whatever this is.
Truth be told, you’ve never really done this before. Taking a look in the mirror is uncomfortable. But Levi deserves someone capable of humility. You wouldn’t call yourself shallow, but neither would you declare yourself deep. Maybe it is time to change that.
Not just for him, but because you deserve it too.
You smile softly upon the epiphany. Maybe you’ve been treating yourself so unkindly for all this time because you never really believed you were deserving of this kind of love. Maybe that’s why you have your track record of escapes. Maybe this is why you’re choosing to stay.
Your fingers gently brush against Levi’s back as you glide behind him. A tall glass of wine leaves your opposing palm, passing it off to a patron. You wear that silly smile with pride and continue on with your shift, heart warm and mind distracted by wickedly sweet love.
The end of your shift arrives surprisingly fast. The bar was fairly busy tonight and thankfully easy to manage. Though the feeling of confidence has settled in for a few weeks now, you’re at a place where you can boldly declare that you are now excelling at your job. You have regulars, specifically requesting you to make their cocktails. It feels good. It feels rewarding to see your hard work and perseverance pay off.
“Hey! Did Levi tell you yet?”
You glance up from your side work, rinsing soapy glasses. Hange leans against the bar counter, elbows sliding across disinfectant Levi had just sprayed.
“Tell me what?”
“Good for nothing,” Hange laughs under their breath. “I’m hosting a dinner party tomorrow night! Nothing fancy, but fancy-ish.”
“What’s the occasion?” You ask.
“Moblit’s birthday!” They grin. “No need for gifts either, I have everything handled.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, frown sliding from the corners of your mouth. “I feel weird walking in empty-handed.”
“I’m sure,” Hange winks. “Your presence is gift enough. Although, if a bottle goes missing from the bar, I won’t say anything.”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Of course I’ll be there!”
Hange throws a thumbs up, speaking loudly over your head, “Levi! Bring your camera!”
He grunts, nodding without glancing over. Hange disappears shortly after, and the night dwindles on. Uneventful and quickly, your shift wraps up.
Per routine, Levi walks you home after locking up. He holds your hand, making casual conversation about nothing in particular. You smile and nod along to his words, though you mostly stare at where your fingers interlock with his.
It’s sweet, being like this with him. It’s heartwarming to be invited to parties together hosted by your mutual friend. Whatever title you two hold doesn’t seem so important when you’re in this moment, so viciously present and insurmountably happy.
Stationed in the sanctity of your bedroom, Levi presses open mouthed kisses to the nape of your neck, fingers reaching lower and lower down your clothed belly. He whispers inaudible sweet nothings between his employed lips, tracing the peaks and valleys of your flesh. You shiver in anticipation, arching and mewling at the divine attention.
You find it justified that you’re picking up exactly where the two of you had left off this morning. Or rather, what you didn’t start.
In the process of, whatever you want to call it, you’ve discovered that your insatiable appetite for Levi reaches no limit. You crave him insistently. There is no way to quench your desire for him, in every and any form he exists in.
It is all consuming. Where you had feared love before, every fiber of your soul screams to pursue and to follow.
His hand dips below the waist of your jeans, palm cupping your covered heat. Levi grinds the heel against your cleft, an action all too teasing and mean to declare enjoyment over.
You need more. You will always need more from him.
In a frenzied haste, you spin to face him, ripping clothing from your body. His focus is violently direct, his eyes never leaving yours as Levi follows suit. Standing bare before one another, you lunge for his lips, kissing him so deeply and passionately you knock the breath from your lungs. He matches your vigor, carding his fingers through your hair and caressing the back of your neck.
It feels as though you two are the only living beings in the entire world. There is no one else who exists or matters.
Levi, Levi, Levi, you mentally repeat in a mantra. Love, love, love.
Your palms glide down his naked biceps, clutching and scraping at his tense muscles. You grip and mold, memorizing every curve and indent in his flesh. When your hands meet his wrists, you clutch desperately at the bones.
He takes the touch as a plea. With a warm press of his open hand to the dip of your back, he leads you backwards until the inside of your knees rest against the mattress. You fold at the contact, laying down. Levi cascades over you in a seamless set of motions, never interrupting the meeting of your mouths. Your legs circle his waist, ankles hooking once they collide, and without a drop of elegance you lift your hips to slide against his. Your dripping center brushes against his throbbing member, your sexes so wet and hot from all of the anticipation.
“Want you,” You murmur against the plush of his lips. “Need you.”
Levi barely nods, too consumed in the sizzling connection. Your lashes part as he nips at your bottom lip, gazing at him with starry eyes as he pulls away. A whine ripples through your vocal chords at his departure, despite knowing the distance will be short lived. A smirk dances across his mouth, his eyes lidded and heavy as he takes in your form.
His head descends, his mouth parting in anticipation to greet your heat with salivating fever. Your hand darts up, tugging at his scalp to stop his movements. When his eyes lock to yours, confusion swirling in his silver irises, you shake your head. Silently, you answer him with another kiss, lifting your hips once more to rock yourself against his cock.
Levi understands, or so you assume. He reaches down, sliding an inquisitive fingertip through your folds. You whimper at the contact, so sensitive and so needy. With a curse under his breath, his palm circles around his swollen member, jerking languidly. Guiding the leaking head between your blossomed petals, he swirls your clit in a messy pattern. He lines himself to your entrance, pausing to gaze into your eyes.
He wants you too. He needs you too. It’s written all over his face.
Slowly, Levi pushes in. Your hole wraps around the head selfishly, walls contracting and pulling his shaft deeper. He hisses in pleasure, his pupils rolling behind his eyelids. His hips jerk as he is completely consumed by you. His cock twitches, pressing upwards at the soft spongy spot lurking in the depths of your cunt. You choke on a moan, lifting and rotating yourself to repeat the motion.
“I’m gonna’ cum if you keep doing that,” Levi says breathlessly. “Fuck, feels so good.”
“Don’t care,” You whine. “I need you, Levi.”
“So selfish,” He chuckles darkly. “Want it that bad, huh?”
You nod, gasping as his hips flick in a shallow thrust. His palms travel to the backs of your thighs, lifting your legs until your ankles dangle at his shoulder blades. The burn in your muscles feels so sinfully good, it renders you wordless.
“All yours,” Levi says huskily. The gaze he holds contains such depth, a rich endearment swirled with pure carnal desire.
He plunges. The pace he sets is sweet, each pull and thrust stroking at every nerve ending within your body. You grip at his arms tight, holding onto some semblance of grounding. Your mind is gone entirely, your voice a casualty to your surmounting pleasure. That familiar liquid fire begins to build, igniting your veins, teasing at feelings beyond your comprehension.
The bedframe shakes, creaking and groaning with Levi’s increasing pace. His mouth is positively filthy, hissing intelligible praises and curses. His expression maintains that desperate ferocity, his eyes raking up and down your flexed body. Your breasts sway with each movement, your torso pressed together so tightly you feel as if your lungs are in your throat. You’ve never been a contortionist, but in this position, you fear that you may gain the skills necessary for the job. The stretch of your muscles only echoes the pressure building in the pit of your belly, a numbing effect replacing any pain.
A hand leaves your thigh, trailing down the curve of your ass and the decline of your center. A fingertip trails the crease, a thumb presses to your aching clit. A swirl, gentle at first swipe. A delicious pressure applied. A breathless moan. A quickening speed.
You’re out of your right mind. Completely at Levi’s mercy, you gape up thoughtless and outright stare. You’re sure your expression conveys how absolutely fucked out you feel.
Levi makes good on your neediness. His rolls are precise and aimed to deliver the mind-blowing euphoria your body begs for. It’s filthy, how well he knows your desires. How well he executes the actions required to bring you to climax. When one pattern on your clit grows weary and familiar, he swipes up and down, eliciting toe curling and bone shaking.
This is a union intended only for pleasure. You want it fast, hard, and immediately. From the brutality he unleashes, Levi craves the same.
The heat in the bottom of your sternum rises, impossible to ignore. You’re close, and judging by his thrusts growing irregular, Levi is as well.
“Come on, pretty girl,” He begs. “Meet me there, I know you can.”
You cry out in response, panting at all the attention. His cock stretches against your tightening walls, brushing at the back of your cunt. His thumb works in tandem, amplifying the dizzying stimulation. Levi’s going to force it out of you.
Your legs quiver, still positioned high, as you begin to approach absolution. It’s going to hit you hard, you know this. It’s all too much but exactly what you need.
It all spills over in a matter of seconds. Before the words can even reach the back of your teeth, you’re shaking and shrieking breathlessly. Billow waves plummet over you, bright white casts your vision. You constrict and pulse around Levi, who gasps and moans alongside you. His dick throbs, twitching erratically as he meets his demise. A mix of fluids fill you entirely, the world pausing for the moments shared in complete bliss.
You cum so hard it is almost agonizing. Levi whines above you, shoving his face in the crook of your neck, gripping ferociously at whatever he can grasp. His thumb twitches but remains dutiful, stroking at your sensitive bud with increasing gentleness. The come down is hard. It feels never ending. He breathes deeply, huffing hot air against your skin.
When you finally begin to regain conscious thought, the stretch in your lower body becomes unbearable. You whimper, tired and exhausted from all the vigorous activity and uncomfortable flexing. Levi loosens his grip on your thigh, slowly bringing it down beside his torso. You cringe at the feeling, soreness settling in within your hips. The relief is almost immediate despite.
“Fuck,” You giggle, pressing a sweet kiss to Levi’s temple. “I fucking love you.”
He grunts in response, eliciting a more pronounced laughter from your gut. A lazy peck is placed upon your clavicle, and you understand it as a shared sentiment of emotion. He rolls over unceremoniously, flopping onto his back beside you. Reaching for your palm, he intertwines his fingers with yours.
After a few moments of lounging in post sex euphoria, Levi searches for a towel to clean up all the mess left behind. He cleans you thoroughly despite the exhausted state, a content smile glued to his lips.
Levi likes taking care of you, you’ve learned. As you settle into bed for some much needed rest, scratching loving patterns between his shoulder blades, you observe another simple fact.
You like taking care of him too.
You love him.
-
Hange’s house is almost exactly what you’d expect their house to look like and at the same time not what you’d envisioned at all. Which you feel is pretty on brand for your employer and friend — predictably unpredictable.
Stationed on a crowded suburban street on the outskirts of the city, the home seems extraordinarily normal, especially nestled in tightly with the neighboring exteriors. The houses line up directly side by side, roof heights varying and unique but still so distinctly antique and harmonious — if it wasn’t for Levi guiding you inside the intended dwelling, you could’ve walked up to any single one of these homes with the utmost confidence that this was Hange’s residence.
The difference would’ve struck you immediately upon entering the wrong dwelling. Hange’s decorating is so irrefutably Hange’s that, well, it makes sense. The front door opens into a dining room, cluttered with deep brown furniture — there’s hardly any room to walk.
There isn’t a single centimeter of wall that remains bare, dark maroon paint peaks through here and there in between photographs, years of memories being honored and celebrated in each frame. It sort of reminds you of Levi, minus the chaotic placement. You curiously peak at the ravenette as you glide through the entryway, watching his eye twitch at the sheer disorganization.
You stifle a laugh, but you become instantly distracted upon the mesmerizing sight of the beautiful line of house plants lounging against the front room window. Nestled in the corner, given just enough space to dance and bloom with the sun, the greenery stuns you. You think of Jeremy and his potential and you mirror Levi’s expression.
You clench your teeth. Hange’s plants, plural, three of them to be exact, entangle their limbs together, speckled leaves caressing one another so lovingly. As if they’re the greatest of friends, choosing to bloom and grow together without any complaint or hostility.
Jeremy needs a friend, needs one yesterday.
Through a narrow hallway leading away from the front room, Hange and Moblit emerge, but before they’re able to greet the three of you, a golden haired puppy comes barreling forward. His face squishes in between Moblit’s ankles comically, and the little one is off.
His paws are too big in comparison to his body, his legs uncoordinated, the puppy jets to Levi first. He yips excitedly, tail wagging, licking and biting at the tips of Levi’s shoes in greeting.
You smirk, unable to hold back your chuckling this time, and bring yourself down to a crouch. Big brown eyes flicker towards you, and Levi becomes old news.
In your hands in an instant, paws on your chest to stare into the depths of your soul, you fall so deeply in love that you question if you’ve ever truly loved before this moment.
You glance up at Levi, stars in your eyes and the beginnings of a plea on your lips. He glares back in response.
Well, there goes that idea of convincing him to get a dog. To be fair though, you’re underestimating your abilities. After all, you made it your life’s mission to befriend him, and despite the odds it worked out even better than what you had set out to do. So just maybe you could figure out a plan in which he ends up with a furry companion in his arms.
With mandatory visitations and custody rights on your behalf, of course. Really, the dog would just live at Levi’s, but it’d be yours.
“No need for us to say hello then since Bean has that covered,” Moblit chuckles. “Thanks for coming guys.”
“Thanks for having us,” You beam. “Happy birthday Moblit!”
He grins shyly, bashfully thanking you. “Hange’s finishing up cooking now, please make yourselves at home!”
“By finishing up you mean the delivery driver is almost here?” Levi arches a brow.
You smack his arm playfully, “Levi!”
“Hey! I worked hard placing that order over the phone!” Hange shouts. “Do you know how hard it is to place an order that large?”
Moblit sheepishly chuckles, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “In our defense, they really did make a salad.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “No judgement here.”
“I’m judging,” Levi breathes.
You squint your eyes and raise your hand to land another blow. He relents his sarcasm.
“Anyways come on in, take your shoes off, get comfortable!” Hange says. “Drinks are in the kitchen! Help yourself!”
The couple lead you further into their home, the puppy at their heels. Bean is his name, if you remember correctly. His paws patter across the wooden floor, and your heart melts.
More plants and a dog. You’re going to look into this immediately.
Down the short hallway, the walls open up to a large living room. Dark emerald green couches take up the majority of the space, a large coffee table sitting in the center of the room. More pictures decorate the room, more notability family portraits of people you don’t recognize. Parents and cousins, you presume.
You inform Levi that you’re going to grab a drink from the kitchen. He nods, beginning to embark on a conversation about photography with Moblit.
You follow Hange’s directions to their kitchen, and nearly slam into something tall and hard once you pass through the door frame. A pair of muscular hands grasp your shoulders, preventing a disastrous fall.
“Nice to see you again too!” Erwin laughs, bright and cheerful.
Heat rises to your cheeks, “I am so sorry! Wow, that’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you or anything did I?”
“Not at all!” His hands trail down your arms, releasing once they reach your elbows. “Could’ve been rough for you though. The floor isn’t very forgiving in this place.”
You laugh weakly, “I’ll find some other way to put myself in danger, I’m sure. How are you?”
Erwin smiles charmingly, “Busy. I have a client in the area that is entirely too demanding of my time. But they make phenomenal art, so I just have to deal with it I suppose.”
“Oh, what do you do?” You crane your neck to the left.
“I’m an art collector,” He says proudly. “Well, dealer, but primarily collector.”
“That’s amazing!” You say. “You must travel all over the place!”
“It’s exhausting,” He chuckles. “But extremely fulfilling. It’s a family business, so I inherited the job when my father retired. I never got the hang of creating any art myself, but admiring it is a skill in itself.”
You nod, “Absolutely.”
Feminine arms wrap around your midsection as your name is shouted into your ear, “Hey! Is Erwin talking your ear off?”
“I was only telling her about my deeply riveting and nuanced career,” Erwin smirks.
“Boring,” Petra whispers. You conceal a giggle poorly. “I’d rather be the artist, like this wonderfully talented girl here.”
“Oh, stop it,” You say sheepishly. “I’m not a professional by any means.”
“Really? You’re an artist?” Erwin quirks a brow. “You know, you kind of have that look about you.”
“The self-depreciating, existential dread look?”
“The look that you take in every detail,” He smiles. “You know, if you’re ever looking to be a “professional”, I’d love to see your work.”
“She would love that!” Petra shakes your shoulders gently. “Weren’t you just saying that you were thinking about taking classes again?”
You bite your lip. While you like your art and even consider your pieces to be adequate, this proposition seems far from your capabilities. Don’t professional artists have to be geniuses? You paint well, you know all about composition and color theory and what-not, but not like that.
Honestly, you don’t know what to quite make of this conversation, so you decide to play to humbleness, “I was, yeah. I don’t really finish pieces, so I couldn’t show off anything that I’ve done.”
“Ah, I see,” Erwin says. “In any case, I know a studio in the city that holds classes every other weekend. I frequent them myself, scouting out new clientele. I’d love to have you join me sometime. Say, next weekend?”
Is he – is he asking you out? Or are you secretly a narcissist, assuming Erwin, with his big blue eyes and exaggerated vowels, is hinting at anything other than platonic friendship? Maybe his work-life is slow, maybe he lacks the clientele he speaks of. Yeah, he probably is just searching for some unknown artistic genius to discover and make a stupid amount of money off of.
Maybe you’re just the fool to fall for it too. He speaks so earnestly, you doubt that he’s hitting on you. Besides, everyone knows you and Levi are together, right? Though, Erwin isn’t intimately involved in your friend group. Still, you never followed up with meeting with him when Hange initially suggested the idea. Didn’t he get the hint?
Besides, is a career as a painter something you truly want?
“She doesn’t need classes. She should be teaching them, actually,” The familiar grit and gravel of Levi’s voice cuts through the anticipation of your response. Petra takes a step back and Levi fills the empty space she leaves, a tight fist circling your waist. He grips you, almost possessively, as he continues, “Petra is right. She is talented.”
Erwin’s eyes lock on Levi’s embrace, a taut smile growing across his expression. “Levi, wonderful to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Levi replies dryly.
A pregnant pause ensues, tension thick enough to slice through. You flicker your focus between the two men. Erwin’s stature noticeably stiffens, his shoulders squared back and jaw flexed. It’s like he’s fighting for politeness. Levi – you crane your neck – looks as if he is about to launch himself toward the blonde. A storm rages behind his narrowed eyes, a frown deeply embedded in his mouth.
This is a bit ridiculous, in your humble opinion.
Petra must pick up on the brewing hostility, as she timidly breaks the ice, “Weren’t we grabbing drinks?”
“Yeah!” You speak just a bit too quickly, too high-pitched. “I totally forgot!”
“That was my fault,” Erwin relaxes just a fraction. “I completely interrupted you when you bumped into me. Good thing I caught you before you fell, at least.”
“Yeah, good thing,” You reply awkwardly.
Without further conversation, Erwin walks off in the direction of Moblit and Hange, throwing a cold glare at Levi. Levi’s eyes trail his retreating form, brows knitted together.
Levi momentarily distracted, you mouth a “what the fuck” to Petra, only answering you with a shrug of confusion.
Opting to press forward and forget the weird encounter, you follow the strawberry blonde into the kitchen. Levi follows suit, noticeably less tense. Petra pours the three of you a cup of pink looking liquid. The house drink, she remarks casually, probably something with vodka as it is Moblit’s poison of choice. You take a tentative sip, pleased with the taste, and enthrall yourself into light hearted conversation with your best friend.
Petra catches you up to speed with the on-goings in her life. The trials and tribulations of online dating, how work has sucked since the two of you haven’t shared a shift together in a couple of weeks, and how bothersome it is to own and drive a car in the city. You listen excitedly while Levi zones out. You spare a few glances in his direction, growing more and more worried about his quietness.
“I think they’re about to sing happy birthday!” Petra interrupts herself in the middle of a rant, leaning over your shoulder to gaze into the living room. “Looks like everybody is here now!”
You turn to see a sea full of people, only recognizing the hosts and Erwin. Everyone else is a stranger, and you laugh under your breath. Here you thought you were special, being Hange’s friend. Turns out, they have loads.
Makes sense, with their endearing personality and charming demeanor.
Levi trails behind you as Petra guides you to the crowd, erupting into the song once a lighter flicks in Hange’s palm. A cake is held in front of a sheepish Moblit, blushing and grinning ear-to-ear. You clap when he blows out the candle, laughing when Hange swipes a bit of icing from the top and glides it across Moblit’s cheek. He shakes his head, staring after Hange so lovingly it makes your heart swell.
It’s picture perfect. You look over to Levi expectantly, waiting for the flash of his camera. An empty space stands where he should be, but a bright white light strikes from somewhere else in the room. He doesn’t rejoin you afterwards.
Petra resumes her rambling, introducing you to other attendees amongst her conversation. You smile politely, feeling a bit out of place without Levi by your side. You try to push down that worry that something may be wrong, that perhaps you did something wrong, but it eats away at you throughout the night.
It isn’t until Erwin locks eyes with you from across the room that feeling of concern heightens. Nearing midnight, you haven’t seen your ravenette in nearly two hours. Did Levi think you were flirting with Erwin? Is he upset with you for simply talking to another man?
You’re becoming increasingly irritated by the idea. You love Levi, proclaimed it several times verbally and physically. You are as wrapped around his finger as one can possibly be. In fact, this is arguably the most time the two of you have spent apart in weeks. You have conquered your own fears and insecurities, reluctantly at the start maybe, but goddamn it. You did it.
You try to imagine yourself in Levi’s shoes. What if you had been the one to catch him talking to another woman? Pondering the thought for a moment, you lack the tight grip of jealousy in your stomach. Simply seeing another woman in the vicinity of your lover wouldn’t send you over the edge of rage and loathing. If she were to flirt with him? Still, no strong feelings claim to be felt. Just as you belong to Levi, he very much belongs to you.
But what if he doesn’t see it that way? Does he think you are noncommittal? That you lack the dedication and seriousness after all that has happened?
Levi has gifted you with so much, and has spent so much time by your side. Day in and day out, it has only been him. You eat every meal together. You share the same friend group. You work at the same job. You live next door to one another. You sleep in his bed three nights of the week, he sleeps in yours the remaining four. So quickly, he has become your entire world.
A clarity you did not seek comes hurtling towards you. Is it possible that he has grown bored of you? Is that why he abandons you now?
You’re spiraling, and you know that you’re spiraling. You feel mildly pathetic, leaning against the wall, sipping from your cup, gazing off into space. Petra walked off a bit ago, swept up between grabbing another drink and catching up with another friend. When did you get so dependent on Levi’s validation and attention? If you thought he was being ridiculous before, having a pissing contest with Erwin, you feel ten times outrageous at your trail of thoughts.
“Where’d your body guard go?”
Almost grateful for the distraction of a distinctly English accent, you focus on the blonde standing before you. “Levi is probably catching up with some friends, if that’s who you’re referring to.”
“How long have you guys been together?” Erwin places himself to your left, mimicking your anti-social lean.
“A little while now,” You smile. “How long have you guys known each other?”
“A little while now,” He smirks. “Moblit and I were coworkers for a spin, hence the friendship with Hange. Levi and them are a packaged deal. In a roundabout way, I guess that makes Levi and I friends too.”
“Really seems like it,” You say sarcastically.
Erwin chuckles warmly, “I wouldn’t say that I am his favorite person by any measure. He doesn’t appear to like me very much.”
“It took some time to break through his wall of ice, but with some blood, sweat, and tears, he’s really a great person,” You reply. “Oh, and a batch of cupcakes that he swears he hated.”
“Hm, noted,” He says. Following up with a diversion from the topic, he asks, “What brought you to the city?”
You dread this question. Only having explained it to Levi, Petra, and Hange, you feel very uncomfortable confronting the reality of your move. It sounds bad saying you ran away from home, horrible even. Like you have some deep, dark, mysterious past. In a way, sure, but it feels so childish in comparison to other people’s struggles.
“A change of pace,” You decide to answer. “Gave up most of my possessions, took all of my savings out, and decided to risk it all. You probably think it’s silly, but it ended up working out.”
“I don’t think it’s silly at all,” Erwin’s thick brows descend into his lashes. “That’s quite brave. You must’ve been so scared.”
Brave. A word Levi had previously used in a very different context. How peculiar that Erwin’s use of it feels wrong, like he’s coddling you.
“Yeah well,” You bite your cheek. “Like I said, everything worked out for the best.”
“Please forgive me if this comes across condescending in any way,” He begins, a weight dreadfully pools in your chest. “But based on what I know, you seem far too, what’s the word? Motivated to be where you’re at.”
“What do you mean?” You force down a defensive tone.
“Working at Hange’s,” He clarifies. “It shocked me when I first met you that someone like you would find yourself in the service industry. You don’t strike me as the type to conform to a typical easy job.”
“It isn’t easy, first of all,” You respond, words clipped and politeness abandoned. “Second, I am completely grateful that I even have a job. I was weeks away from being homeless. Levi and Hange are owed every bit of thanks for that.”
“I apologize if I’m being offensive. I tend to be blunt,” Erwin says hesitantly. You see the words forming behind his eyes, the careful choice of vocabulary as he continues, “I like you. I like what you have to say. You intrigue me. I think you have a lot more to offer, and I am interested in that.”
“Wow, you are blunt,” You blink, shocked at his confession.
“I was serious when I said I’d like to see your work. I’d like to get to know you better. Both professionally and otherwise.”
Your mind reels. So Erwin was flirting with you earlier. A pulse of rejection sweeps in your throat, ready to clarify your romantic interest as zero percent. Sure, you thought the blonde to be attractive previously, but that was before a certain raven haired asshole stole your heart and offered you something so beautiful in return. The idea of being with another man disgusts you, simply put.
Before you can respond, shutting him down on the spot, he extends two fingers, a business card slotted between them.
“Call me if you’re interested,” His eyes flicker over you, distracted by something. “Or whenever he isn’t around.”
While you’re gaping at the audacity of his words, Erwin seizes the opportunity to push the paper into your hand. He bids you a quick farewell, disappearing moments later.
Without an opportunity to process what just happened, fingers land on your shoulder. You jump, startled by the abrupt sensation, and crane your neck sharply to your right. Levi quickly removes his touch, expression stoic and hard.
“Where have you been?” You inquire, pressing a palm to your thrumming heart. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“Around,” He stares blankly. “I’m ready to head out.”
“Oh, okay,” You say. “We should probably say goodbye to everyone then.”
“Yeah.”
Okay? You raise your eyebrows in question, but Levi is already en route to the nearest friend. With hugs and thanks to Hange and Moblit for hosting and a tender farewell to Petra, Levi leads you swiftly towards the front door. You make sure to pet Bean on the way out, tuckered out from all the attention the pup received from the party guests. Levi flags down a taxi, wordlessly opening the back door for you, and joins you from the opposite side.
The car ride home is spent in excruciating silence. The spiraling you traversed through earlier resumes, enhanced by Erwin’s offer. Did Levi hear all of that? Does he know that you’re not interested in Erwin or his professional opportunities?
You think back to the night prior, how strikingly different the energy feels between the two of you. Levi held your hand as you walked home, whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep, cuddled up in his embrace. He sits so far from you now in the backseat of this taxi, practically crushing himself against the door. You wish to cross the distressed leather, to laugh and smile as he recounts his night, thread your fingers through his and place sickly sweet kisses to his cheek.
You gaze at him from the corner of your eye. Levi glares out the window, figures beyond the glass blurring past in dizzying haste. Lights pass his face in a flash, illuminating his emotionless expression. You almost want to cry, displeased that he would assume the worst from you. Clearly, Levi is upset.
The thoughts take a darker turn, ones so deeply embedded in the rawest parts of your being. You disappointed him. You hurt him. He sees you in an entirely different light now. You are not a good person. This is all that you are good at, inflicting emotional pain and burden upon others.
Selfish. You are selfish. You do not deserve Levi or his affection.
You grip at the paper card in your pocket, bringing it discreetly into your lap. You rip it in half silently.
The ride is unbearable and tormentingly long. Despite this, as the cab slows in front of your building, you feel hesitant to exit. Levi all but dashes from his side, shoving a fistful of cash at the driver. Gulping nervously, you find the courage to join Levi in his departure. Taking long strides towards the lobby doors, your body begins to shake. Anxiously, you pause, drawing on pure adrenaline to guide you next.
“Hey,” You call out weakly, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Can we talk?”
Levi stops, fist wrapped around the metal handle of the door. “About what?”
“You’re acting off. What happened at Hange’s?”
He doesn’t turn to face you. “Nothing happened.”
“Levi,” You implore. “Don’t be like that. Talk to me.”
“If you want someone to talk to, there’s a card in your pocket with a phone number on it. Try calling it.”
And there it is, the crushing realization that you were right all along. He thinks you to be unfaithful, flighty, drawn to anyone who bestows even a fragment of their attention.
“Levi, I love you,” Your resolve breaks, a shattering crackle to your words. “I am not interested in Erwin. I was shutting him down when you walked over. Both times.”
“Didn’t look like it,” Levi sounds so dejected, so defeated.
“Why are you being so–”
“So what?” He flies, hurtling towards you so swiftly it throws you from the moment. “Jealous? Insecure?”
“Yes!” You shout. “I thought we were past misunderstanding each other! You should know I would never flirt with anyone other than you!”
“Do I?” His tone shifts to that of ugly condescension, bruising both your ego and your perception. “Do I really? You were practically drooling over him, talking about art. I saw it all over your face. You like him!”
“Be so fucking serious!” You’re nearing hysteria. “I hardly know the guy!”
“Like it matters. Erwin always gets what Erwin wants.”
“What the fuck are you even talking about, Levi?”
“C'est de la foutaise!” He throws his hands in the air.
(This is bullshit!)
“Can you just please just speak to me?” You plead. “This is insane.”
“I can never just be happy!” Levi’s eyes line with the hint of tears. “I can never keep anyone that I love! You are so perfect, so unabashedly you, and I am so fucking undeserving of that.”
“That is not true.”
“Mais ne voyez-vous pas? It is, mon précieux. These past few months have been perfect, far too perfect. Look at me, chérie, really fucking look at me,” He gestures wildly. “I have nothing. I have nothing to offer. I am not some art collector sitting on a fortune, ready to spend it on whoever catches my eye. I manage a fucking bar barely making ends meet, I own nothing of value. I can’t even look you in the eyes and ask you for commitment. I don’t know how to.”
(Can’t you see? – my precious – darling.)
“Why would I care about that?” You step closer, a small breath away from his face. “Levi, I don’t care! I’m not exactly in a great financial place either! I never was!”
“But you are so – alive,” Levi pauses, gazing so deeply into your eyes. “You are so brave, the bravest person I have ever known. You feel everything. You are so full of talent and adventure and lust for life. Until you, I had no passion for anything. Not even photography. I feel like I’m an echo chamber of everything that you are.”
“Stop diminishing yourself!”
“I’m so fucking scared,” He says your name, a broken call. “I am so scared that you are going to see right through me someday. You are going to see everything that I am not. I have lost so much, and I refuse to watch you walk away.”
“Where is this coming from?” You ask exasperatedly.
The reality of this situation dawns on you. Levi is having a panic attack. The swirling of his pupils, the accelerated intake of his breathing.
“I’m sorry,” He heaves. “I tried so hard to be good enough for you, but I can’t. I don’t know how to hold on to the people I love.”
“Levi,” Your tone softens as you begin to understand. Your palms reach for his face, flushed and blotchy, caressing him gently, “I love you, and you are more than enough for me. I am not leaving you, not now or ever.”
“You’ll have all of me,” He says. “Every rotten part of me. And then you’ll move on to your next grand adventure once you get bored of me.”
“Hey,” You coo, heart wrenching. “That isn’t going to happen. Look at me. Levi, breathe, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears threaten to fall from his lashes, “Everything that I have ever let go of has claw marks on it.”
“I never took you as a poet.”
“Only if the situation calls for it.”
A weary smile breaks through your worried lips. “Is this really about me talking to Erwin?”
“No,” Levi admits, slowly regaining a sense of calm. “Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death.”
“I didn’t know,” Your thumbs work in circles on the edges of his jaw. “I’m sorry.”
“I should have told you.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t matter. I’m here now, I’m listening.”
He nods reluctantly, peering at you with such intensity it makes your brain rattle. “She died when I was young. Cancer. My uncle – Kenny – took guardianship over me after my mom passed. Threw me out at seventeen. Ever since, I haven’t had anyone stable in my life. Hange is the closest one to ever resemble some kind of security, but I take care of them and the bar. It isn’t the same, they rely on me most of the time.”
“I’m sorry,” You offer weakly. “I can’t even imagine the loss you’ve been through.”
“I don’t like the pity,” Levi shies away for a brief pause, embarrassed and disparaged. “I don’t even like thinking about it. It feels weak.”
“It isn’t, though,” You say. “Levi, you have been the only person taking care of yourself. If anything, you should be angry.”
“I am,” He cuts. “Because I alone have the control over who hurts me now, who can leave. And you—“
“Left something before,” You finish for him, a finality to your tone that surprises even you.
His face scrunches, as if hearing the words brings some kind of painful conclusion to his venting. “I don’t want to make you feel ashamed, but it’s what I worry about.”
“I don’t want to leave you though,” You insist. “You make me so happy Levi. Happier than I have ever felt before. I ran away from home because I was drowning. You have gifted me so much.”
“That’s not fair,” He hisses. “To you or to me. I can’t be responsible for your happiness, I can hardly manage my own. Clearly.”
“We are human,” You firmly state. “We both have our shit to deal with, to heal from. But I want to figure it out with you. I don’t want to run, I have no reason to. For the first time, I want to build a life, something permanent. I want that with you.
“I am so far from perfect,” You laugh without humor. “But I stopped being afraid when I started falling in love with you. I want to feel everything. I want to experience everything, the good and the bad. Levi, you have left an immeasurable impact on me. I have grown so much. I have changed.”
“You don’t need me for any of that,” Levi frowns. “You would still be doing all of that if you hadn’t met me.”
“But it’s because of you I spent the time looking inwards, to face all the bullshit I ran from. You make me a better person, just being in my life.”
He searches for something in your face, maybe a hint of doubt. “How are you so – sure?”
“I’m not. Not even in the slightest. I have no idea what the future holds, or who I will be tomorrow, next year, or in five. But,” Tears burn behind your irises. “I know I want you there.”
He takes a deep, stabilizing breath, “More than anything, I’m terrified to ever let you go.”
“Then don’t.”
“You make it all sound so simple,” Levi chuckles bitterly. “This is all so much easier when you’re the focus.”
“Hey, I can handle a few tears,” You repeat the words he’d murmured to you previously. He smiles begrudgingly as you continue, “Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll make you a cup of tea, and we’ll keep talking okay?”
Swiping the back of his hand along his eyes, Levi nods. He shakes his arms, ridding himself of the emotional weight of his vulnerability and fears. Loosened now, you reach for his hand, holding his palm securely. You stare at one another, so raw and earnest.
You cannot deny the irony of it all. Levi, who has lost everyone. Withered and battered from abandonment and rejection, so adamantly convinced that somewhere within his being there lurks something so deeply flawed and unlovable. You, who has run away from everything you have ever known. Motivated by the belief that the only way to survive is to leave the damage and destruction behind.
Faces flash in your mind’s eye. Your mother, who changed so dramatically for the worst over the course of your life that you hold only a handful of fondness for. Armin, who gave you the gifts of kindness and empathy. Without him, you do not believe you would find any sort of profoundness in your previous actions. Eren, who bestowed you with passion and regret, but also forced the hand of forgiveness of self. What tidal waves of feeling would you experience without his influence? Would they mimic shallow pools?
Mikasa, the deepest and grandest friendship you have ever felt. You would have never dared to look at your own reflection, reflected on your decisions, dreamed of a future, without her.
You are a collection of all the people that you have ever loved. The weight of the absence is palpable, but they are never truly gone from you. Through you, they still breathe the same air that you inhale now.
In some capacity, running away from home was a mistake. Maybe you could have faced your fears, conquered the hardships lingering in these connections that haunt you, made a life for yourself despite the insufferable circumstances. Perhaps you would’ve met Levi along the way.
The universe has a funny way of ensuring you learn your lessons as viscerally as possible.
The likelihood of meeting Levi, knowing him in this intimate way, would have been slim. You connect with him in this reality in a very specific way. The bolter and the abandoned. Assuming you stayed, you most likely would have healed in a very different form.
You think of resentment. The stifling cage of conformity. The lack of control over your life.
It doesn’t matter, you conclude. Exhuming the past is exhaustive and only leaves you hollowed with the lack of closure. It holds substance only as long as you allow it to.
You are no longer that person. Levi will understand this too.
You will spend every devoted second ensuring that Levi knows exactly how beloved he is. Not only is it what he deserves, it’s what you deserve.
Hurt people hurt people. You remember thinking of this phrase months prior, but with fierce determination, you intend to break that cursed cycle.
Hurt people heal. Hurt people love. Hurt people are changed.
The one who stayed and the chosen. You think that description fits better.
Levi clings to your side as you embark the ascension to your apartments. The silence is strikingly more comfortable than the one shared in the ride home. Reassuring touches usher forth from your fingertips, communicating what words do not. On your floor, Levi tugs you gently towards his dwelling.
Once inside, you make yourself comfortable on his couch. Locking the door behind him and traversing beyond the threshold, he joins you. Placing his body close to yours, he maneuvers your legs to dangle over his lap. You smile fondly at the gesture, tracing patterns with your thumb on the ball of his shoulder.
“I’m sorry for how I yelled at you,” He starts, all traces of panic and insecurity vanishing from his expression. “My mom’s death anniversary isn’t an excuse for how I acted.”
“No, but it explains why you were feeling the way you were,” You reply. “Why seeing Erwin talking to me made you upset. I’m sorry that I would ever make you think I would ever entertain him.”
“It’s less you and more me,” He says. “I haven’t asked you to be exclusive with me. If you were interested in him, I couldn’t bring myself to be angry. It ultimately would’ve been my fault.”
“We aren’t teenagers, you know,” You joke lightly. “We can be exclusive without proclamation.”
He laughs, deep and graveled, “You’re right. But still.”
“What’s the deal with him anyways?”
“I just don’t like the guy. Never have, probably never will. Erwin is a stuck up rich boy.”
You shake your head, smiling, “Not my type, just so you know.”
“Mister big blue eyes and charming smile?” Levi arches a brow. “Yeah, right. I don’t believe that, but I’ll let that go for the sake of not rehashing my insecure breakdown.”
“Levi,” You say intently. “I don’t care about Erwin. I don’t care what he has to offer. I only want you.”
He gazes at you with such profound vulnerability as he says, “Do you promise?”
You nod, “I’ll spend every day proving that to you in whatever way I can. I love you, you idiot.”
Levi bites his lip, casting his focus to the floor. “I love you too.”
“So, we can start with this,” You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “Would you like to be exclusive?”
“I would like that very much.”
“I would too.”
“I am truly sorry,” He says. “For acting that way tonight. I should’ve just talked to you.”
“We’re talking now,” You respond. “I’m here to listen.”
Levi takes a deep breath and dives into a valiant display of vulnerability. Clutching tightly to your hand, he recounts his childhood. How loving and wondrous his mother was, how he never really had a father figure in his life. How hard it was when she passed, how guilty he felt for being so young and useless. How his uncle neglected him, left him to fend for himself. How photography made the world a bit better.
He met Hange in his early twenties, becoming fast friends. He felt responsibility for the brunette, following them throughout their adult lives. He still feels responsibility. He has never been able to shake this feeling that everyone depends on him to have his shit together. Levi struggles with close connections because of this.
Levi speaks and vents until he is practically asleep. Still, he reflects, he talks. It is open, raw, and honest.
You listen to every word without interruption. Even when you leave the comfortability of the couch and travel to Levi’s bedroom, he continues to explain why he is the way he is. He has never known peace. He pretends he is confident, that he has his shit together. In truth, he doesn’t.
Laying side by side, you caress his cheek as his muttering loses any trace of resentment. He speaks earnestly, “I don’t want to end up alone.”
“I’m here now, Levi,” You say softly. “You’re not alone.”
“Good,” He smiles, eyelids drooping. “Neither are you.”
You reach for him, tugging his body to the heat of yours. Embracing him fully, you cart your fingers through his raven locks. You place a kiss on his forehead, making whispered promises of devotion.
You have both been through so much. You are deserving of love, of each other. With a fierce sense of understanding and commitment, you swear to uphold this way of thinking throughout the duration of your relationship.
Which, you hope lasts forever.
-
Waking with Levi tucked securely to your chest, the sun a vivid fixture in the fragmented rays extending beyond the curtains, you lay with half lidded eyes recounting the night and its confessions. Remembering your poisoned thoughts, you allow them to mull over in your mind’s eye. How wrong they feel now, thinking that you were undeserving of love. It speaks against all that you have learned and blossomed into. For months now, you have fought with every ounce of mental strength to become a better version of yourself. You feel disappointed in yourself. How could you ever regress back to those weaponized, loathing ways of being?
Levi, who still sleeps soundly, became victim to his own demons. Your heart aches for him, for all the loss and devastation that has plagued his life. You hope you can provide stability for him. You’ll do everything within your power to ensure that.
A gentle knock at his front door stirs the ravenette. You blink wearily, mildly disappointed you could not continue your mental musings. Introspection is a vital tool for you these days to process your life.
“Expecting someone?” You ask, voice still poignant with sleep.
Levi groans, rubbing a palm over his face, “Not until later.”
“Who is it?” You watch as he forces himself up, throwing his comforter to the side. He throws on a sweater, big and comfortable.
“Just my cousin,” He says. “She’s visiting for a bit, but I didn’t think that she would get in this early.”
“Cousin?” You smile, excitement budding your chest. “You didn’t think you had any other family, from what we talked about.”
“She lives in the States,” Levi explains, continuing to dress himself. “Graduated college recently. You’ll probably like her.”
Without further conversation, he exits the room hastily to not leave the family member waiting. You cannot contain the happiness that floods your veins. You have met all of Levi’s friends, have made them your own as well, and now – an opportunity to prove a permanent fixture in his life presents itself.
Meeting family. It’s a big deal.
You hear the murmuring of voices echo throughout Levi’s apartment as you rush to dress yourself. Glancing in a mirror hanging on the wall of the bedroom, you rake your fingers through your hair to tame the bumps acquired overnight. Deeming yourself presentable enough, you take a deep breath.
Taking calculated steps, you mentally prepare for introductions. You hope you’re likable. You hope you like her, this cousin. Already the two of you share so much in common, coming from another part of the world. You wonder if she’ll share any resemblance to Levi – the dark raven hair, the sparkling eyes.
You see Levi first as you enter the living room. He turns his head, a warm smile lighting up his features.
He calls out your name, “This is my girlfriend. This is my cousin–”
“Hi!” You interrupt, mimicking Levi’s bright grin. “It’s so nice to meet you–”
Levi steps to the side, allowing a clear view of his family member.
Your heart sinks to the floor.
Mikasa stands in the threshold. A timid smile on her face descends into an open mouth gape. Shock paints both your expressions.
She says your name hesitantly. The world falls down around you.

LACHERI © 2021-2025: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.
#levi x reader#levi x you#levi x y/n#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi fanfic#levi fanfiction#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#attack on titan fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin fanfiction#tw: dark themes#tw: alcohol#tw: panic attack#tw: smut#tw: terminal illness
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Comfort
Word Count: 4,036
Pairing: gn reader x Javier I Word Count: 4,036
Warnings: A mention of smoking, anxiety, panic attack description
Summary: Yes, this is another fic where Javier comforts the reader when they're experiencing a lot of anxiety and have a panic attack. It's a comfort fic which I wrote due to my own mental health and anxiety at the time being pretty bad. It's not a romantic fic as such, there's just a few mentions/hints of potential romance and feelings.
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You hadn’t been feeling great for several days now, there was a tightening in your chest and no matter what you tried to do, your heart just didn’t seem to beat the way it was supposed to. It was erratic and all over the place, your mood too was low, panicked, worried.
The day before you’d seen a dead Northern Cardinal at the side of the road and it had made you unfathomably sad, though you had no reason for the death of an animal to make you feel like this, especially considering you would frequently go hunting and fishing.
The camp was alive, bustling away as usual and thankfully no one had noticed your current mood. The others would ask how you were in the morning but aside from that and a little small talk, everyone else seemed so preoccupied with their comings and goings that no one spared a second thought for you. You weren’t mad about it, perhaps it would have been nice if someone had at least noticed the change and asked if you wanted to talk, normally you’d expect that of Arthur.
But you knew he’d seen Mary again recently and had enough of his own problems to be keeping his mind busy rather than worrying about others. Mary-Beth also would enjoy chats with you especially in the evening, you trusted her more than most, but she’d been wrapped in her books and seemed so happy it was a shame to bring distress to her. The only other person in camp you could truly be honest with was Javier, the two of you shared chats in the early morning as the mist rose, or late at night round a dying fireplace. But he’d been frequently absent from camp as of late.
You decided to go for a ride by yourself to no where in particular, perhaps some time alone would do you good, look at the wildflowers, listen to the birdsong. Perhaps considering the season you’d find berries and mushrooms to forage and bring back to camp. Half hour out of camp you came across a small lake and there decided to hitch your horse, it seemed like a good place to stop for a coffee. As you poured the hot liquid from your flask you heard someone singing, curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to go and investigate.
The real reason was because the song was familiar to you, though not in English, you wondered if it were at all possible that another from your camp had also come to the same location for some time alone. Time that you were now about to intrude on.
Walking through the rushes, careful of your footsteps you eventually came to the person who was singing, Javier. You had been right.
“Hi there,” You said quietly, not wishing to startle him or seem over enthusiastic. You were worried when he saw you that he’d be annoyed or perhaps have wondered if you’d followed him, which you would never dream of. Instead when he saw you his face seemed to light up as he smiled and waved you over.
“Hola Y/N”
You walked over to him and sat down on the grasses. “I’m sorry Javier I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He waved his hands in front of his face, “No, no… you could never intrude, it’s nice to see you.” He smiled, it seemed genuine, could it be he was really pleased to see you? Perhaps you could open up to Javier about how you were feeling?
He always listened and was quite sensitive when you got to know him, but the problem was what you had started to feel something for him and were worried that spending too much time with him or opening up would expose you and the emotions you held close.
You opened your mouth to speak when Javier instead said, “I am glad you are here with me.”
You looked at him and waited for him to continue, what did he mean?
“Around camp recently, you haven’t seemed yourself this past week. You’re so quiet and withdrawn, I miss our morning chats looking out at the valley, smoking, good…well passable coffee.” He let out a small laugh.
You returned a small smile, “Yes well, about that…” You stopped in your tracks, was this a good idea?
As if reading your mind he responded, “You can tell me.”
“I don’t know Javier I haven’t been feeling myself as of late. I’m worried and anxious all the time, to be honest…” you took a deep breath wondering just how much you could tell him and whether you could trust him. His earnest expression and the way his hand had moved towards yours on the dry earth told you that you could.
“I’m feeling more alone than ever, I’m so afraid, I’m not sleeping, my chest hurts all the time. My heart…my chest it’s like it’s full of butterflies all beating their wings to escape.”
Javier put down his fishing rod and shifted a little where he was sat to look at you, he reached out to stroke the side of your face, “I am so sorry to hear that, what can I do?”
That was the question wasn’t it?
“I don’t know….listen, just be there for me,” you offered as a slightly pathetic suggestion.
He nodded, “Sí, of course I can do that.”
You sat silently for a minute, Javier wasn’t one to lie so you you trusted what he said, trusted that you could in turn trust him.
“Anything biting?” You asked as you lent towards Javier and looked out at the still water.
He picked up the rod, “Only tiny fish, nothing worth taking back to camp. But, I don’t always fish for the fish you know?” He looked across at you and shrugged a little.
“Oh.” You paused for a moment, “So you like to get away from the others too huh?”
He smiled and nodded, “The camp, all those personalities, all that noise. Sometimes it’s nice to just be alone.” He cocked his head to the side, “especially at the moment, the way things are.”
Thinking on his words you pulled your knees up higher into your chest and squeezed feeling a little bit guilty, “And now I’ve come along and totally ruined that silence with my presence.” You sighed, preparing to get up and leave him to it.
Javier was silent for a moment and then put the rod down again, leaning it against an empty can of beans just in case anything bit. He shuffled on the ground to turn and face you, “Why do you do that?” He asked, he appeared curious, but not angry.
“Do what?” You had no idea what he was talking about and worried that now you had ruined the relationship the two of you had built, the friendship and companionship you’d found in him. He was one of the few in camp who appeared to understand you and now that was going to be something else from the past, something else to worry and stress about, to feel embarrassed and anxious about.
As these thoughts rushed through your head you felt your chest getting tighter, a sharp pain stabbing in the left hand side, your heart missing a beat and then beating too quickly. The regularity was gone.
“Y/N?” Javier asked after you hadn’t answered for a while. You heard him but your vision was blurry when you tried to look at him. Focus, you told yourself. But it wasn’t working, you couldn’t focus, not on Javier, not on the serene water of the pond or the sun dipping low in the sky. You were unable to get your breathing under control, a hand went up to your chest and you clenched.
“Y/N,” you could hear Javier’s voice and could just make out the concern on his face, but when you again tried to focus on his dark and warm eyes, so reassuring and comforting, just nothing only a blur.
You felt Javier’s hand clasp over yours, his other reached for your knee as he scooted forwards so he was next to you. He squeezed gently in an attempt to bring you out of your current state.
“Javier, I can’t breath…I can’t..c…” You tried speaking but this only made the situation of your breathing worse to contend with. You shook your head and bent over, your head hanging down, Javier reached up to your hair, scooping it up so it didn’t get dirty in the ground, bringing it back to your head he clasped the back of you and held you steady. Tilting your head up gently so you were inches from his face, his nose pressed against yours.
“Just breathe, you can do it.” He said softly. “Everything will be okay, I promise. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I am here now and will always be there for you okay? There is nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be embarrassed of, if you’re scared I will protect you.” His stream of words were the most comforting thing you’d experienced in months. You didn’t quite catch all of the words, but it was enough for you to get the gist of what he was saying. You were incredibly grateful that right now in this moment it was him who was sat with you.
The hand that was over yours now squeezed, his fingers slowly interlocked with yours and he kept it there against your fast beating chest. You’d never been this close to Javier before, in fact you’d never been this close to anyone in camp before but yet this couldn’t have felt more natural.
“Javier…” you said again, something about his name was soothing and calming to you. You could smell his aftershave, could smell the wax on his boots, whiskey on his breath. He smelt of home, he was warm and comforting. He wasn’t lying, when you were close to him you knew you would always be safe.
You felt your heart starting to slow just a little, although your breaths were coming in fast and your chest still felt as if it were full of butterflies, there was just enough of a change to suggest your body was moving in the right direction and it was thanks to Javier and his presence.
“Breathe in through your nose, deeply, with me now.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter.
“Breathe in,” he repeated and you followed his instruction. Your chest was fighting against you, desperate for you to take a quick, sharp breath through your mouth, however, you were determined. This time you ended up spluttering a little, but Javier didn’t withdraw, he wasn’t disgusted, he simply encouraged you to try again.
“Breathe in again, with me.”
It took several tries but eventually you managed it, several seconds of inhaling in and then holding your breath, you thought of the calm stream and of Javier’s singing round the campfire.
“Breathe out through your mouth, low and slow now.”
Again you breathed with him, slowly, carefully, not scolding yourself if you occasionally missed a beat or got it wrong.
It took several minutes of breathing almost in silence, just the sound of Javier’s guidance to help and starlings in the distance.
When your heartbeat had returned to normal Javier waited for you to speak, what you noticed however was that even though you had regained control of your breath he remained holding your hand, cupping your head, his nose was still pressed to yours. You inhaled deeply now and let out a sigh as you closed your eyes. Now you pressed a little further without meaning to, your lips were so close to his you could feel his breath on your skin.
“How are you feeling now?” He asked.
You considered the question, and nodded sheepishly, “Okay…I mean a lot better than five minutes ago, thank you Javier.” As you were feeling more conscious again you became aware of how close you’d become to Javier and slowly pulled away. Javier let go of your head and your hand as you did so, you felt the colour rush up your neck and into your cheeks. You turned away tempting to hide your blush. The Javier that would joke around the campfire would have made a comment on this for sure, however, in this moment he was focused solely on looking after you.
“So, what was that about?” He asked.
“You asked me why I kept doing something, you sounded…cross. No, wait you didn’t sound cross, I just interpreted you as cross and I worried.”
When Javier didn’t say anything else you took this as a cue to continue, avoiding eye contact you considered what to say next, “So, Javier you are one of the people i’m closest to, you’re one of the few people I can trust. The thought of disappointing you, annoying you, or you finding me embarrassing to be around just sent me into a panic.” It felt better to have it off your chest, even if you did worry about his reaction.
“Look at me,” he said softly. When you looked up at him he reached out for your hands, they were given willingly. His hands were still warm for a moment ago, he clasped yours in his. “I would never, I just want you to know that okay? I would never not want to be friends with you, not be here and looking after you.”
You felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked into his, hanging on his every word.
“You mean it?”
“Of course, I would not say it if I didn’t mean it.”
“Javier,” you said quietly, slightly scared of the question you were going to ask and what his reaction would be, “Do you think I could have a hug?”
Javier smiled, “Of course.” He leaned in and wrapped both his arms round you, you scooted forward a little bit so you were chest to chest, wrapping your arms around him too. You leant on him, nuzzled into his neck and closed your eyes, “This is nice.” You confessed.
Javier hummed in response, “Yes it is.”
You didn’t want to let go of Javier, didn’t want to be the one to break the connection, but at the same time you didn’t want to hold on for too long. You didn’t want to overstay the welcome, but from everything he said, he never would have thought that.
“So, whenever you feel like this, whether out on a raid, fishing, in camp…doesn’t matter, you come to me okay?” You nodded, but still didn’t let go of him.
As if sensing your thoughts Javier added, “There’s no rush, we can stay here as long as you like.”
“Thank you. Javier, earlier when you said why do I always do that, what did you mean?”
“I thought it was obvious, I meant why do you always put yourself down? Why don’t you believe in yourself more, you are not a burden, you have achieved amazing things and you’re kind, as well as brave, as well as good with a gun, which together is a hell of a lot more than the majority of those back in camp.”
It was weird to still be hugging Javier whilst having such a serious conversation, but his words meant the world to you. Your heart rate was slower than before, as a complete state of calm washed over you.
“Thank you Javier, you have no idea how much that means to me. You are one of the few things I am grateful for right now and I couldn’t stand to lose you.”
“And you won’t, I promise.”
Finally you let go of Javier and moved away slowly, your hands returned to their previous position, in one another’s. Javier’s bangs hung over his eyes and he smiled at you. “I am so glad you found me out here today you know?”
“I thought you wanted time alone.”
“Yes and no. Time away from certain people more like,” he gave a small laugh. You knew exactly who he was referring to when he said that.
“Perhaps, I could stay sat here with you until you’re done fishing?”
“I would like that very much.”
You let go of his hands to allow him to return to the fishing rod. Before returning to fishing he lit a cigarette, it hung idly from the corner of his mouth, he passed his flask of whiskey to you and took a swig before handing it back. Drinking from things that had been in other’s mouths wasn’t something you made a habit of in camp, but with Javier it was different.
As the sun set, casting orange and red streaks across the sky, neither of you said much, just commented on the weather, whether fish were biting and what flowers you could see. Javier informed you he’d been picking Oleander earlier which he was fashioning into poison arrows and was more than happy to share some of his stock with you.
Occasionally he would hum a tune or sing, though he sung in Spanish and you weren’t sure what he was singing about, the sound was beautiful all the same and helped you to relax further. Normally you loved to listen to him singing, but this moment in particular felt lovely as it was just the two of you, the singing was just for you and him.
As it got dark and the stars started to appear in the sky you found yourself shivering a few times, the coolness of the night air causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.
Javier looked across at you and seeing you shake offered you his jacket. He wound in the fishing line and tidied up before placing it round your shoulders gently, “Here, I don’t want you getting cold.”
You clasped his hand as he lay it on your shoulder, “Thank you Javier, not just for this, for everything, for looking after me and letting me know you’ll be here for me. Just, thank you.” There wasn’t much more to say than that, you feared if you started to talk about it all again you’d get emotional and cry again. This was not the look you wanted to return to camp with and so you stopped yourself before the gushing began.
Javier reached out to help you to your feet, as you sprung upwards you practically fell into his chest. He let out a low chuckle, “Don’t worry I got you.”
Instinct then drove you to hug him once more, you wanted nothing further from him, not right now. But you did want to reinforce how grateful you were for his discretion and kindness. Once again he wrapped his arms around you, at first you weren’t certain but then were sure he had placed a kiss to the crown of your head, gently touching his lips to your hair.
As you climbed up onto your horse you waited for Javier to do the same with Boaz so you could ride side by side back to camp. Maybe there would be questions, but in the line of business you were in, it was easy to say you were out hunting, out fishing, raiding, looking for potential heist locations. And so what if someone did suspect something else? You hadn’t exactly committed a crime had you, well, what a ridiculous thing to think – you’d all committed many crimes, it was more what if tongues wagged about the closeness of the two of you. Again, so what? There were worse people in camp for rumours to be circulating about than Javier, worse people to be caught spending quality time with.
With that you let the thought drift out of your mind, it wasn’t worth thinking on for a moment longer.
Back at camp there were a few looks from Arthur, Molly and Karen, but nothing more than the usual when anyone returned home from being away for the day.
You went back to your tent and spent a while reflecting on the day in your diary, then regretted writing anything down just in case someone should be feeling particularly nosey and decided to have a look into it. But you shoved it underneath your pillow, no one had ever intruded before so what would cause them to do so now.
Later that evening by the light of the campfire Javier was sat round it with his guitar and was playing something that sounded like a love song, but for all you knew he was singing about death. You supposed the two weren’t all that different when all was said and done.
You listened but from a distance, not wanting to get too close to him or to give anyone in the camp the impression that was there anything happening between the two of you. But there wasn’t anything happening. You cursed yourself as you felt your cheeks blushing at the thought of him and the thought of anyone else even beginning to think that anything was transpiring between the two of you.
Just then you felt a hand clamp on your shoulder which made you jump, looking up you saw Arthur stood next to you, “Oh, hey Arthur you alright?”
“Not so bad, you?”
You smiled and nodded enthusiastically, “Oh I’m right as rain.”
He cocked his head to the side, “Really? You haven’t seemed like your usual self recently so I just wanted to check everything was okay with you. Anything going on you need to talk about?” You’d tried to keep Arthur out of your worries and here he was anyway, of course he was here, it was Arthur.
You swallowed, “Well, a bit of trouble, up here,” you pointed to your head, “In here,” pointing to your heart. “But, I talked it out today and am feeling better, not perfect, but I have things under control, I think..”
“With Javier?” Arthur asked.
“Yes, he was so kind, sharing how I felt just made me feel so much better.”
Arthur smiled, “Good, I’m glad you’ve found someone else to confide in.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, fire reflected in his dark eyes.
You shuffled on the spot, not quite sure what he meant by that, was he annoyed by you and happy now that finally you would go to someone else with your problems? Were you that much of a burden, a thud in your chest, the feeling of your stomach dropping out from under you. You looked over at Javier and tried to recall the conversation from earlier. He was there for you and nothing else mattered.
Sensing your distress Arthur placed his hand back on your shoulder and squeezed, “Y/N please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m always happy to listen, I’m grateful for your friendship, and I know you’ll always return the favour.” You sighed letting out the tension of the past 30 seconds and suddenly remembering how to breathe.
“Sorry, I’m a bit jumpy.”
“I just meant, with all that’s going on nothing is certain. I worry is all, so I’m glad that you have someone else to trust, when,” Arthur coughed and turned his head to the side, “I mean if…anything should happen to me.”
Arthur coughed again, it was deep and guttural, he lifted a handkerchief to his lips and tried to cover it up when he lifted it away from himself but it was too late, you’d seen the blood.
Now it was your turn to reach out to him, “Arthur….” You asked softly. “What’s going on?”
“Not today, I’ll tell you, but not today.” He looked over to Javier, “Go sit by the fire, you feel cold. I’ll bring you a beer.” You were reluctant to move but Arthur reassured you, “Come on now, you don’t know how long Javier will be playing for, I’m sure you’d rather listen to him and lulled into a peaceful sleep than worrying about me.”
You looked at the ground in an attempt to hide your smile, and did exactly as Arthur had said.
#Javier Escuella#javier escuella x reader#tw: panic attack#cw: smoking#cw: anxiety#rdr2 fic#my writing#comfort
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bro the interactions between sprout and toon!reader must be insanee for reader after what happened in think fast. On that note since req are open may we get an aftermath of who picked up reader or a interaction witj normal sprout after the fic? The lore is actially making me go crazy. I need answers
If your still takings reqs of course. Have a good day!
This was interesting to think about! Reader definitely has some trauma, she won't be going on any other runs for a while.
If Twisted Sprout's on the floor though any times past "the incident", she'll have a panic attack and seek out the nearest twisted that isn't him so it can kill her, because she just can't face him, whether twisted or toon.
『Bearing Burden』
This is the second part tooooooooo...*drum roll* Story #16!
HELP THIS TURNED INTO MORE OF A POPPY X READER THAN A SPROUT X READER IM SORRY REQUESTER
…And then the galaxies faded away.
…
You awoke with a gasp, gripping at your chest and struggling for air.
…Right. Back here.
You breathed heavily, letting the cool sensation of air fill your lungs again. It was dark. Dark and eerie.
Of course, this was nothing new.
Only Qwel knows how many times you’d arrived here after what you thought could only be described as dying.
You felt a growing pit of despair in your stomach the more time you had to think about what just happened. Your ears rung as you shakily stood, and a massive headache suddenly struck you. You let out a groan.
…Guess all there really was was to just try again, either that or go insane. After all, you couldn’t talk with your companions forever. You’d run out of topics eventually.
Speaking of, where were they?
…Probably in the unfinished rooms section.
You sighed and walked to the left-most side of the room. You struggled with the door a little, but got it open eventually, and closed it behind you. The staircase was immediately encased in shadows. It was pitch-black.
It was kind of annoying in case there was anything you might accidentally step on and slip and fall and-
…Nevermind.
The railing was cold against your hand as you ascended the stairs, the occasional squeak of your hand sliding against the metal echoing through the shaft.
You pushed open the wooden door, nearly slipping, and it closed behind you with a loud thunk.
You squinted your eyes as you were immediately near blinded by the bright lights. Putting a hand in front of the direction of the light, you walked left again, turning around the “reception desk” littered with papers of all sorts. It would have had a hefty layer of dust on it if Tisha wasn’t so damn crazy about cleaning.
Your heart stopped.
“Hey Y/n! How’d it go?”
Your pupils shrunk.
“Y/n? You okay?”
Your breathing quickened.
“Hey, earth to Y/n!”
Your head pounded.
He tried to place a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked back. He stopped, confusion etched all over his face.
With shaky hands, you rushed away from the kitchen and knocked on the door to Poppy’s room.
Comeoncomeoncomeonopenrightnow!!
As soon as Poppy peeked open the door with a little “Hello? Who-” you squeezed yourself in and quickly shut the door behind you, shaking.
“Y/n?? Y/n what’s wrong?”
“Don’t let him in here. Please.”
Poppy’s eyes widened.
“Is there something wrong? Are you okay?”
You stayed silent. She let out a sigh, guiding you to sit on the bed and sitting beside you.
“What happened?”
Your face was pale and your expression cold and empty. You were the looking definition of hollow. It…honestly scared her a little.(Listening to Chaotic Bean Sim music “Day 5” while writing this LOLLL)
Poppy’s eyebrows furrowed, her expression one of nothing but concern.
“Twisteds…”
“Oh…” she sighed.
She raised her arms, holding them out to you.
“...Can I?”
You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. And it was comforting. It was warm. It was everything you needed.
The tears began to drip, soaking into her pink dress, and after the first few, you couldn’t stop yourself from pouring out the rest.
Poppy had no idea what had happened, she had no idea what was currently tearing your mind and sanity apart. She had no idea who you were even talking about. But she stayed there. For you. Just for you.
#sprout x reader#poppy x reader#dandys world x reader#angst my beloved#dandys world#tw: panic attack
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for your ask to be overwhelmed with asks: a writting prompt (if you want it to be) someone being put in solitary👀
How Long Have I Been Here (All Alone)
A Lizzie fic for my Lab AU <3
Words: 3300
Content warning: discussion of intercourse and rape, questionable morality, mention of previous burn wounds, body dysphoria
Aka: Lizzie broke the rules and now she suffers the punishment. Meanwhile Joel and Pearl deal with the consequences of what happened during the body swap
Lizzie hates being Pearl.
This body is fragile. The magic inside it are weak tremblings of stardust laced in the tissue of her organs, so insignificant that she can’t even fly with it. Outside of having no wings, Pearl’s body is just… wrong. Lizzie isn’t unfamiliar with being various sizes (she’s exploited the fae size-shifting abilities thoroughly) but Pearl is proportioned strangely. She’s long and thin and it makes Lizzie stumble over her own limbs.
And her face. And her hair. And all these new patterns across her skin that make her feel so alien.
Lizzie hates it.
The Watchers promised it would only be for a little bit. Only a few weeks and then Lizzie would get her own body back. All her fae magic, and her wonderful pink hair, and her soft limbs that fit just right. Lizzie just had to make it a few weeks.
And she had one rule to follow: be Pearl. Act like her, talk like her. Take her name and her life. No one can know you aren’t her.
It was disorienting, but she tried. Really, she did. But it had been a long time, and she kept thinking about that fire, and she kept wondering where her real body was.
And there was Joel.
Wonderful, beautiful, gentle, amazing Joel. Her husband.
Lizzie is a lot of things, but she is a terrible actor and terrible liar. And that is how she ended up here.
At the end of the few weeks she was put back in her own body, where she slept and slept until she was healed of the burns. When she wakes up again it is to the introduction of a new lab “Secret Life SMP.”
Her own body takes some getting used to. She had grown familiar to Pearl’s body but she was back in her own again. Her lovely soft body. Her lovely soft body. Her body. Her body.
Joel finds her in the dark bathroom, staring down her reflection. Her real reflection.
“baby?” he askes softly. “Is something wrong?”
Lizzie holds her skin like it will peel away if she doesn’t hold it there, “why don’t I fit?” she whispers. “this is me. Joel. I'm supposed to fit back.”
Joel reaches to cup the side of her face, to tilt her expression into his eyes, “Is this because of the Pearl situation?”
He has something like guilt in his eyes, like he regrets the nights they had spent while she wasn’t in her own skin. Lizzie remembers the confusing sensation of him inside her, inside Pearl. Everything was new again, and she didn’t fit around him like normal, but it was okay. They were together again so it was okay.
“I love you.” Joel says. “if you’re in this body or any other. I still love you.”
Lizzie shakes apart, and Joel reaches his other hand to hold her steady. Tears pour down her cheeks. She collapses into Joel’s palm, shrinking and hiding away until he is cradling her in his palm.
“I’ve got you.” Joel murmurs, brushing a thumb over her, “come on, let’s go to bed.”
Lizzie lets him carry her back to her room. She would give anything to spend the night curled with Joel, but they had been given strict rules about staying in their own rooms at night. So Joel wrapped her tiny form in her sheets and gently rests her on the pillow. Lizzie relaxes into it, and she lets her previous panic and all her adrenaline knock her out.

…
Lizzie soon learns there are consequences to breaking rules. She should have been better at hiding. She should have not let anyone know at all.
But she hadn’t and now she was being led away by the Watchers again. She catches Joel’s eyes from the other side of the room, and that is all the farewell they have before she is yanked away.
The room Lizzie is shoved into is blank. White walls, floor and door, which is locking behind her with a click and leaving her here alone.
It looks terrifyingly like the room Scott had been locked in once. The Watchers had rolled a TV into the lobby and let all the subjects watch as Scott lost his sanity. Lizzie heard him describe it later as torture, although he hadn’t been threatened with anything but the silence. Scott described the sound of his own bones scraping against each other, and what was enough to tell Lizzie she never wanted to find herself in that room.
The static of a microphone cuts through the silence, “hello?” someone taps on the mic twice, “hello? Hi Lizzie!”
Lizzie’s stomach twists, “hi Pearl.” She says. “This isn’t Scott’s room, is it?”
“oh the Quiet Room?” Pearl laughs, “no, this is just a room. Just a white room.”
Lizzie still feels uncomfortable, “So, what do I do?”
Pearl discusses something with someone just out of range of the mic. Lizzie can hear the turning of pages, “okie, let’s see.” Pearl hums, “you’re being punished for… oh! The body swap?” she skims the paper, “breaking policy, telling multiple subjects, Joel, yup yup. Oh.” There is a heavy pause. “You-“
Lizzie winces.
“Oh gosh-“ Pearl’s voice is muffled like she’s turned away from the mic, “I’m gonna be sick.”
Lizzie heard her drop the papers. She hears the Watchers say something to Pearl, but she can’t make out what.
Pearl clears her throat, “uh, so. You’re here for solitary confinement” her voice sounds strained. “you’ll be given food twice a day. Random times.”
Lizzie glances at the door behind her, “So, like. A few days?”
Pearl hesitates, “the document says three weeks.”
Oh. Okay. Three weeks. Lizzie can. Lizzie can do that. Probably. “Anything else?” she asks.
“Some of the panels in the wall slide in and out like drawers. That’s where your food will be delivered. You can also find stuff for sleeping there.” Pearl scans the document again, “I think that’s it. Ready?”
Lizzie swallows, “I guess I can’t say no, can I?”
“no.” Pearl says. “good luck.”
And then then the microphone clocks off, and Lizzie is alone.
“ok.” She says, “you’ve got this. Just a few weeks. Nothing too hard! You were alone for months while you healed, this should be a breeze.”
It takes her ten minutes before all the drawers are pulled open. Two blankets. A pillow. One drawer just has a meal tray labeled “return to drawer when finished.” She leave that one.
She spreads one blanket in a corner of the room and puts the pillow at the head. She curls up with the second blanket, back against the wall. Her wings press against the cold surface.
The first two hours are tolerable. She fidgets with the corner of the blanket as the boredom begins to settle around her.
Her first meal is dropped off. She can hear a bell ring on the other side of the wall, which prompts her to open the drawer again. A full plate and a glass of water sit on the tray.
“Hello?” Lizzie tries to peer into the drawer, “hello? Food person? Can you hear me?”
When no one answers, she takes the tray and closes the drawer.
“Thank you.” She chimes, before sliding it closed.
The food is practical. A ham sandwich, no cheese or condiments. A few crackers. There is a bowl with something white scooped in it, maybe yogurt? A feeling of dread settles in her stomach.
Lizzie sits on her blankets and chews the sandwich quietly. It’s dry, and she wonders if yogurt would taste good on a ham sandwich. She smiles. Joel would find that funny.
When she finishes the sandwich she takes the spoon and stirs the bowl’s contains. It definitely isn’t yogurt, it’s too thick. She tastes it and immediately her dread is alleviated.
Lizzie’s not sure what exactly it is, but it is sweet. Sugar, a major part of fae diets. She eats it with a spoon and wonders what it is. Not sweet enough to be icing… whipped cream? She settles on that.
The bowl is scrapped clean. She saves the crackers in case she gets hungry again before her next meal.
Lizzie drops the tray off in the drawer again, and sits down in her bed. It was going to be a long day.
…
Pearl is indignant.
She wants to believe that Joel wouldn’t do this to her. She wants to believe LIZZIE wouldn’t do this to her, but she read the report.
While she had been sleeping away in Lizzie’s body, she had been off VIOLATING Pearl’s. It makes her feel gross and it makes her want to bite someone.
“JOEL.”
Joel looks up to find Pearl standing menacingly in the doorway to his bedroom.
He laughs nervously, “heyy, Pearl. You look- stressed?”
Pearl glares around his room for a moment, contemplating how to do this. She lets out a breath, it comes out as a hiss.
“I know what you did with Lizzie.” She starts, fighting to stay levelheaded. Fighting to not scream at him. Fighting to not cry. “During the body swap. I read the report.” She clarifies.
Joel is silent for a moment. Then he lets out a weak, “I didn’t dream that?”
Pearl paces to the end of his bed, “No.” she says, intending to sound angry but it come out weak. Her shoulders slump, “No, you-“ her voice breaks.
Joel bends his head in shame but doesn’t apologize, “You mad at me?”
“Yeah.” Pearl scoffs, “of course. You were- in…” she swallows, the settles on, “I trusted you.”
Joel looks up at her, “I didn’t mean to hurt you!” he says, “but Lizzie… I mean. We both thought she had died in that fire. Or was relocated. I don’t know… I didn’t think-“
“yeah, ya didn’t think” Pearl spits.
“-didn’t think I would ever see her again.” Joel admits, “and when I realized you- you were her. And everything. It was a lot at once…”
Pearl is quiet. She can’t stop thinking about how it would have felt. The intrusion. She’s nauseous.
“it didn’t last long. And soon you were back to- back to you! And so I thought I’d dreamed it. Or at least imagined it. It’s so hard to keep track of what’s real.”
Pearl knows about Joel’s mental instability. But she doesn’t think it’s an excuse for this. He knew it was Pearl’s body.
She won’t let him make her feel like a bad person for feeling violated. He took advantage of her. It wasn’t okay.
“I feel gross.” Pearl murmurs.
Joel nods, “understandable.”
Still no apology.
Pearl seethes internally.
“That’s all you have to say?” she snaps.
“what am I supposed to say?!” Joel bites back, “you would have done the same.”
Pearl pauses at that, thinking of the people she left behind when she was kidnapped into this hellscape. Gosh, she misses Karn.
“It was my body.” She says at last, “it doesn’t matter if Lizzie was inside and you both consented, I DIDN’T.”
Joel glares around the floor again, “you would have done it too.” He repeats.
Pearl sighs and slumps against teg side of the bed. Quiet.
“Yeah.” She whispers, “probably.”
…
Lizzie is pacing. She’s been pacing. Her knees ache from it, but the steady steps are the only think she’s found to drive off the boredom.
She has slept seven times, but she’s only eaten eight times so she must be on day four, even if it feels like day eight. The food has been repetitive.
This time when the bell rings and Lizzie receives her next meal, she spreads the cream on her sandwich just so she doesn’t have to eat yet another dry sandwich. She nibbles on the crackers throughout the day.
When she gets tired of pacing she lays on the floor with her arms spread.
“The floor is cold.” She observes out loud, just to hear someone’s voice. “the floor is smooth and white and cold.” She says.
She tries singing to herself. She doesn’t remember a lot of music since her burn injuries, but one renter liked Olivia Rodrigo so she finds herself humming words she doesn’t quite remember. She made some lyrics up herself.
She falls asleep and dreams about the fire. She dreams about the flames at her skin and the exhaustion that had pumped through her. She dreams about Joel. Joel loving her. Then others. All the people she has tried to fight off and failed. And she dreams about the aftermaths of those rentals, she dreams about pregnancy tests. And she dreams about going home. And little Jimmy with those plastic pink fairy wings he used to wear to seem more like the family. She dreams of how she’d throw them away when he’d disappeared.
And she wakes up numb.
She stands just to have something to do. Stretches. Checks to see if she’d missed a food drop off while she’d slept.
She hadn’t.
She lays back on her blanket and stares at the florescent lights. There are twenty-five squares of them in the ceiling. She knows because she’s counted them several times already.
Lizzie begins to count them aloud yet again, and falls asleep in the middle of “twenty-one”
…
Joel thinks maybe he should feel guilty. But he isn’t.
Actually he was in the right. That was his wife. It didn’t matter what she looked like.
Besides, he didn’t think he would ever get the chance to again. He’d been so sure he would never see her again. Martyn told him about Netty. About how his wife had just been taken one day, and never returned. Joel had thought Lizzie was like that too, forever gone. And then she had been right there. Right in front of him and begging.
How was he expected to turn her down?
Joel still remembers how foreign it was. Pearl wasn’t fae. Everything was different and his heart was pounding the whole time, and she had cried afterwards (that wasn’t unusual. Lizzie had been doing that since her renters got to her. She just clung to him and pressed muffled sobs into his shoulder)
He does regret it. Only because Lizzie said afterwards that she hated it. It was too different. She had been seeking familiarity but this wasn’t anything like their normalcy.
Joel tries to understand Pearl’s anger. He tries to see the whole situation from her point of view, but all he can think is that her anger seems unwarranted. Pearl hadn’t been in her body when it had happened. It was Lizzie. And Lizzie was Joel’s wife. So it was okay.
When Lizzie comes back from her punishment Joel will talk to her about it. And she can talk to Pearl. And they can smooth this whole thing out. Lizzie will explain to Pearl that she has absolutely no reason to be upset.
There is a computer monitor in the lobby for anyone who wants to watch her. Joel sits in front of it for hours at a time, just to feel close to Lizzie again. There is a small timer in the upper right corner of the screen that ticks down to when she’ll be released.
The Watcher like to make examples of those who don’t follow directions. It seems to be working.
Bdubs says he feels more tortured than she does. He covers his ears while he watches the single clock in the facility, just so he doesn’t have to hear her muttering and pacing while he dutifully watches the time. Joel is forced to listen to him count every second while they sit in the lobby together, watching different things. Mumbo comes to sit with them sometimes too. His eyes are on Lizzie. He traces their matching burn scars into his skin.
…
Lizzie feels like she’s shaking apart. She needs to do something. She needs anything. Situation. Something.
“Something, something, something, something…” she mumbles while her hands search the wall for… something. Maybe she missed a drawer. Surely she’s supposed to have something else. Something to drive off the boredom. “…something, something.”
She walks straight into the wall, and stumbles backwards, dazed.
“I’m sorry.” She says, “I didn’t, uh, see you. Pay attention. I wasn’t paying attention.”
She runs directly into the wall again, as though she’s already forgotten it was there. She takes a step back and stares at her hands like it was their fault she had just walked into the same wall twice. They shake in response.
Lizzie groans and sits down again. Maybe she should take another naps. She’s tired. Is it night time yet?
She wishes she had a clock.
She misses Joel.
…
Lizzie sits numbly on the floor when she hears it. A rattling at the door. She turns to stare at it, hope rising in her.
Is it time? Time to go? Please.
But the door doesn’t open. Instead she hears someone swear, and then a nervous, “Lizzie?”
Lizzie moves to the door, “hello?”
“hi, we don’t have long. Mumbo is, uh, “fixing” the monitor right now, so no one can see you.” It sounds like Joel. Lizzie rests her forehead against the door weakly.
“are you trying to break me out?” Lizzie asks hopefully.
Joel hesitates, “I don’t have the key. And also the Watchers would probably just put you back in here. I just wanted to say happy birthday.”
Lizzie recoils, “birthday?”
“it’s October 7th. Impulse got a look at the date on the computer he fixed for his last rental. We’ve been counting.” Joel says. “So, um, happy birthday babe.”
Lizzie smiles, “thanks. Worst birthday ever if I’m honest.” She pauses, “what time is it?”
“I think it’s about noon.” Joel says.
Lizzie draws away from the door. Her internal clock was WAY off. She was going to go to bed again soon.
“You’ve only got a few more days.” Joel assures, “just a little longer.”
“Thank you.” Lizzie says. “I love you.”
Joel is silent.
“Joel?”
No response.
She bangs on the door, “JOEL.”
Suddenly she’s laying on the floor. Weird. Did- did she fall? Was… no, she didn’t imagine that…
Lizzie hurries to the door, “Joel!” she calls. She bangs against the door until her hand bruises. Tears prick in her eyes. “Joel! Please!”
She slams her shoulder into the door. It aches under the impact, but doesn’t open. There is still no answer from her husband.
Lizzie bangs her head against the surface weakly, her head spinning. She’s gonna cry. She’s gonna vomit. Gosh, she’s gonna hurt herself at this rate.
She backs up to kick the door, “JOEL, PLEASE!” the door rattles but doesn’t open, doesn’t break. She screams, hot desperate tears streaking down her face.
...
Lizzie is released eventually.
Pearl is ordered to open the doors for her. She stands and stares at Lizzie for a long moment, like she’s conflicted.
Lizzie steps out of the room, trembling. There is no one but Pearl lead her out of the hallway.
Pearl takes her hand slowly. The sensation is pleasant. Lizzie missed the feeling of skin.
“I hate you.” Pearl says.
And before Lizzie answers Pearl hugs her. Squeezing her together. Lizzie can hear Pearl’s heartbeat drumming. She wraps her arms around Pearl, palms resting against her back.
“Hi Pearl.” Is all Lizzie answers with.
Pearl tightens her hug, “I hate you and your husband but-“ she sniffles, “I’m glad to see you.”
“That…” Lizzie pulls away from the hug, “yeah. I’m sorry.”
Pearl rubs her face weakly, “Joel is caged right now. He, uh, he started attacking the Watchers again when he saw the footage…”
Lizzie nods, “I wanna sleep in my bed.”
“Me too.” Pearl murmurs.
…
#inkie talks#life series au#hermitcraft au#lab au#tw: sa mention#tw: sa#tw: panic attack#this isn't my best work...#trying to get back into writing since finals#ughh#inkie writes
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Irondad Prompt #202:
Tony: Buddy, that looked like you had a panic attack… a severe one too…
Peter: …me??
#iron man#irondad#peter parker#tony stark#irondad and spiderson#spiderson#irondad prompts#spider man#irondad and spiderson prompts#spiderson prompts#mcu peter parker & tony stark#mcu peter parker#mcu tony stark & peter parker#mcu iron man#marvel mcu#mcu#peter parker has ptsd#tw: ptsd#ptsd#tw: panic attack#panic attack
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