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12woso12 · 2 months

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The North Stand

Something a little different from my Dorothy in North London series, but don't worry, that's coming soon! If you have any requests for One Shots then just let me know!

You and your twin brother were referred to as Barca's wonder twins. He was a prolific striker for the men, and you a fearsome defender for the women's team. When your brother died tragically at an away game after colliding head first with a goal post, you leave Barcelona behind for the red and white of Arsenal.

When you have no choice but to return to the scene of the accident for a match, you insist it doesn't bother you. In reality, you're dying inside.

TW: Death, Mental Health

It was 6pm on a Friday when you first discovered you were needed at Anfield. Originally, the club had planned to leave you in London for the match despite your assurance to Jonas that you were completely fine.

It had been 14 months since he'd died.

14 months since your twin had been ripped from existence, stolen from you in one reckless moment of football. All for a stupid game.

A stupid goal.

A stupid league.

Football was so trivial now. Winning trophies would never outshine the feeling of sharing a drink with your brother. Playing in the Champions League would never live up to the memory of opening your stockings with him on Christmas morning.

Before his death, you would've given anything up for football. But now you'd give up football in a heartbeat just to speak to your brother once more. You were stuck in what had once been a dream career with only the memories of your brother to cling onto.

It seemed silly to ever think that you needed to give up everything for football. If anything, football owed you. It had taken away your other half. You couldn't even look at a Barca shirt, let alone watch a game without withdrawing into your bed for days at a time with the face of your brother fresh behind your eyes.

It had taken you a week to decide to leave Barcelona after his death. The noise around the entire situation was so loud. Fans had found your address and were leaving their condolences in the form of flowers and teddy bears at your doorstep, there was a televised tribute to him at Camp Nou where thousands of fans tuned in to grieve. Alexia had tried to convince you to attend but instead promised to attend for you after seeing your vulnerable state.

It was a touching tribute, not that you had watched it.

Within a month of the tribute at Camp Nou you had fled the country. Alexia had tried to understand, she really had, but her heart ached at your departure knowing that she'd failed in fixing your pain.

Arsenal was a good change. You already had friends there in the girls who played for England and you integrated well into the found family they'd developed at the club. At first, they'd tried to get you to speak about your brother, they tried to get you to show even an ounce of emotion surrounding his death but you had completely shut that part of yourself down. Instead you reverted to your old self. The person you were before the accident.

You cracked jokes with Beth and cooked tacos with Alessia in the evenings. You spent hours learning from Leah and took up pranking Kim and Steph in your free time. Kyra became one of your best friends and you moved in together after only a month.

Life at Arsenal was good, great even. It allowed you to breathe. You'd gone 14 months ignoring your grief and if you had it your way, you'd go the rest of your life without having to deal with it. But now, with Wubben-Moy and Codina out with injuries and Katie Reid away with England youth, Arsenal were asking the world of you: You would need to resume your usual role as a starting centre back alongside Leah.

Your brother had died in Anfield stadium. Now you'd be treading the very grass where'd he spent his last seconds alive.

'I'm so sorry to have to do this, Y/n' Jonas' voice rippled through the phone. You gripped it tightly, knuckles white to match the pale of your face. It was your own fault they were asking you really, you had just spent the last two weeks convincing that team that you'd be okay to play if needed.

'It's alright, Jonas. It's no biggie' You croak out. You could hear him sigh down the phone and you pictured his furrowed eyebrows lacing together in concern.

'Is Kyra home with you?' he asked. 'Do you need me to send Leah so you can have some company?'

'Jonas i'm okay, i promise'

'If you need someone to talk to you know our psychologists are fantastic...'

You shook your head furiously. 'I'm fine. I'll be at Colney first thing tomorrow to travel up with you guys'

'Okay.' he didn't sound convinced. 'Make sure you get some good sleep and i'll see you tomorrow'

As soon as Jonas ended the call you threw your phone across the room. It slammed into the wall opposite and clattered to the floor next to laundry that you were yet to put away. It wasn't usual that you got angry but sometimes it felt as though it were the only way to keep all your other emotions in check.

If you cried over your brother, you didn't think that you'd ever stop. You thought you'd be fine to play at Anfield but now it was actually happening, now that it was more than a distant horror, you'd never felt fear like it.

'Y/n?' You jumped at the sound of Kyra approaching your open bedroom door. You gave her a weak, unconvincing smile as her eyes flickered to the dent in your wall. It wasn't often that Kyra saw you as anything other than happy, sure she'd seen you upset after a loss or run down with illness but you'd always held her at arms length when it came to your brother.

It wasn't personal. You did it with everyone.

'Are you alright?' Kyra tiptoed into your room and hesitantly took a seat besides you on your bed.

'Jonas called' you tried to sound casual but the shake in your voice didn't go unnoticed by your best friend. 'I'm playing on Sunday, Codi got injured'

Kyra was silent for a moment before she gently placed a hand on your shoulder. 'You don't want to play?'

You shrug. 'Yes. No. I don't know.'

'That's alright, you don't need to be sure of anything right now' For someone known for her childish antics, Kyra had moments of maturity.

'I thought I'd be fine.' You cleared your throat. 'I will be fine'

Kyra slung her arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close. 'Just know that we'd all understand if you weren't'

You knew she was delicately skirting around the topic of your brother, not quite wanting to broach it but not wanting to let it go either. You felt vulnerable with Kyra, as though she saw straight through your closed facade.

'I just want this weekend to be over.' You squeeze her hand lightly 'Then everything will be okay again'

Kyra sucked in a deep breath. 'You never talk about him, you know.'

Black dots suddenly swarmed your vision. 'I can't Ky, I just can't'

'Okay' she said simply pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 'But if you ever have a moment, even a second, where you think you can then i'll be here'

You didn't get much sleep that night. Nor did you manage to eat anything. Time passed slowly as you tossed and turned in a patch of nervous sweat. You hated how emotional you were feeling, you didn't want it. You didn't need it. It was 3am when you eventually climbed out of bed to find Kyra in her own. As though sensing your presence, she opened her eyes slightly and shuffled over before pulling you down besides her.

It was a routine performed many times before.

Her quiet comfort let you sleep until dawn.

You were silent on the coach ride the following morning. You sat at a table of four with Kyra opposite Less and Vic who kept taking concerned glances at your abnormal state. You crossed your legs beneath you and tried to focus on the pile of cards you'd just been dealt. Normally, you were the champion of rummy but now you just couldn't focus enough to care. The only thing that had been running through your mind since you woke up was your brother's face.

His face on tv as he clattered into the post, ball flying well over his head. His face as blood poured from his hairline. His face as the life left his eyes. Just like that.

He'd died just like that.

Everything he'd ever loved and lived for gone. Just.Like.That.

You'd never felt pain like it.

That's why you had shut it out when you came to Arsenal. You threw yourself into your new life hoping that eventually the pain would dissipate but it hadn't, not even the tiniest bit. Instead it seemed to grow, every time you were reminded of your twin the lump in your throat evolved and the agony in your heart rattled loudly against your rib cage.

As you studied your cards, you locked eyes with Leah who sat besides Kim on the isle opposite. She had been keeping one eye on you since the beginning of the journey and you couldn't help but feel annoyed. Leah had taken you under her wing when you'd first moved to Arsenal having known you well from England but these past few days you'd withdrawn from her completely. You didn't want to give Leah the opportunity to ask if you were okay, because once she did you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself together.

It was late afternoon by the time the coach arrived in Liverpool and you were on an important hunt for food when Leah finally managed to corner you in the hotel reception.

'Hey' she grabbed your shoulder gently as you attempted to make a get-away. 'We need to talk'

'About what?' you said nonchalantly

Leah rolled her eyes. 'Don't, Y/n. I'm really worried about you. You shouldn't be here, why did you agree to play?'

'I'm fine Le. It's just another game.'

'No, it's not.' she bluntly reminded you 'At least not for you it isn't.'

Your heart was pounding so violently that you thought it might leap out from inside your chest. 'Can we please not do this?' You glance around the empty reception nervously, afraid of who might overhear the conversation.

'Go home, Y/n' Leah instructed as though she had any say in the matter.

You scoff at her brashness. 'No, who else is going to be able to play in place of Codi?'

'Steph would. We'd find answers' Leah said

'Steph hates playing Centre Back'

'It doesn't matter. She'd do it for you Y/n.'

You hated when Leah treated you like a kid. You weren't that shy seventeen year old on your first England camp anymore, you had outgrown the way she saw you.

'Leah stop. I don't need your help with this. I'm fine'

'You aren't fine' your captain argued 'You haven't been fine since moving to Arsenal and we all know it...you never talk about Ben'

At the mention of your brother's name, your brain seemed to short circuit. You stared incredulously at Leah, no one had dared to mention his name to your face in 14 months. Leah might've been the closest thing to family that you had but she had no right to bring up your brother in the way she had.

'Fuck you' You spat furiously and pulled away from Leah who gritted her teeth at your disrespect, looking slightly hurt. You strode away from Leah and into the lift, abandoning your hunt for food for the comforts of your hotel room where you'd remain for the remainder of the evening. You were glad to see that Leah made no attempt to follow you, although deep down a part of you ached for her comfort. But you didn't need her. Not really. As soon as the weekend was over you would apologise and things could go back to the way they were before where you weren't reminded of your brother's death at every waking moment.

Leah would understand. At least, that's what you hoped.

You sent Kyra a quick message to explain you were having a quiet evening and that you'd see her tomorrow and then locked your hotel door for the night.

You were fast asleep when you became vaguely conscious of a knocking at your door. Exhausted, you opened your eyes to glance at the time as the knocking persisted. It was only 10pm. Sighing you stumbled to your feet and dragged open the hotel door to see Kim staring you down, a stern look stretched upon her face.

'Good to know you're alive' she barged into your room before you had a chance to welcome her inside. She grimaced at the mess of clothes on your floor before turning to face you.

'I texted Kyra' You grumbled

'Sit down' Kim demanded

'What? Why?'

The Arsenal captain crossed her arms and waited for you to do as she said. Slowly, you lowered yourself back down onto the bed.

'Leah told me what happened'

You sighed 'It's not what it seems like'

'You need to let someone help you. You're struggling and you need help.' Kim watched as you shook her head and fixed your eyes on the ground.

'I'm fine'

'Don't bullshit me.'

'I'm not.'

Kim rolled her eyes. 'I don't know why you agreed to come, but you have nothing to prove Y/n. It's okay if you're still grieving, it's okay to be devastated, it's okay to feel these things. But what isn't okay is for you to push away the people that care about you.'

You said nothing.

'You don't need to speak to me about whatever is going on in your head but at least talk to Leah. Or Kyra or Less. Hell, the whole team is in your corner. You're going to end up in a dark place without paying into those relationships, okay kid?'

Kim put a finger beneath your chin and lifted your eyes to meet her own. You were beginning to crack under her harsh but ever caring gaze, a tear made its way down your cheek and Kim gently wiped it away.

'I'll apologise to Leah' you whispered 'After the game'

Kim hummed in disapproval. 'I'd rather you didn't play at all'

'Too late now'

'It's not' Kim countered 'But if you're really going to play then do it safely. Don't commit any dangerous fouls triggered by emotion and if you need to stop or get off the pitch then you tell me straight away, okay?'

You nodded compliantly. 'Got it'

Kim pulled you in for a hug before leaving you to your thoughts. You'd never get any sleep now.

The following day the match approached quickly. You spent the morning with Kyra, avoiding the older players as much as possible. Even on your team walk, as Kyra rushed off to prank Steph, you hung back with Vic as you watched Kyra drench Steph with a bottle of water - something that you would usually be involved in too.

And when you arrived at Anfield after lunch, you opted out of doing a pitch inspection with the rest of the girls who exchanged worried glances. Leah hung back in the changing rooms with you under the guise of needing to do a few exercise for her knee when in reality you knew she was only trying to keep an eye on you. As the team news was announced and the internet started buzzing at the knowledge that you'd be playing at the very pitch where your brother had died, you did nothing but sit and wait.

From the changing rooms, the fan chants could be heard loudly. It was clear that the Arsenal fans had eclipsed the turnout of those of Liverpool which came as no surprise. You sat in your cubby and tapped you foot to the tune of Lacasse's newest and, in your opinion, greatest fan chant yet. You felt strangely calm, at least calmer than you had done last night.

You were eager to get the match under way because as soon as it was over, you could get back to your North London bubble. The thought made everything a little easier and as you jogged onto the pitch for warm up you instinctively turned away from the end of the pitch where your brother had died. Luckily, Arsenal were warming up on the opposite side which you were almost certain Leah and Kim had planned. You breezed through your warm ups by keeping your head down and ignoring the pitiful gazes that staff members kept sending your way.

And no matter what, you didn't dare look toward the North stand.

Before you knew it, kick off was upon you. You stood besides Leah and took a knee at the first blow of the Ref's whistle. For the first half, Arsenal faced the pitch end that your brother had died at. You tensed each time the ball was crossed into the box and one of your teammates (namely Alessia) tried to put their head to it.

Ben had died trying to do the exact same thing. You felt as though you could throw up any second.

By the time half-time rolled around you were both mentally and physically exhausted which wasn't exactly a promising sign considering Arsenal were 3-0 up. You and Leah had worked seamlessly together to protect your goal but that didn't mean you hadn't given the occasional sloppy pass or let Kiernan slip by you one too many times.

You were playing well but everyone could tell that you were trapped inside your own head. Even the fans, who had been applauding you extra loudly all game, could be seen nervously watching you handle the ball with a lack of precision. And yet Jonas didn't take you off.

As you made your way out for the second half, Katie wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gave your hair a light ruffle.

'You're doing good, mate. Almost up. Then we can get the hell out of this shitty stadium' she gave you a smile of reassurance before running off into her position and you couldn't help but grin at the Irish woman's ability to always try and make light of a situation.

You kept your eyes away from the goalpost that had killed your brother as you stood less than 10 metres in front of it. Leah's eyes flickered nervously over to you as you fidgeted uncontrollably waiting for the whistle to blow. It was an artic day in Liverpool yet you felt as though you were sweating buckets, your legs felt like jelly as the second half finally got underway.

Deep in your chest, as Liverpool pressed high, you felt an overwhelming amount of grief. You were too close to the goal, too close to where Ben had taken his last breath. Everything was too close and you felt as though you were going to collapse from the weight of it all if you were made to take one more step toward the goal.

So, you did what you knew how to do best...You turned the grief into intense anger. As play progressed it was clear that your tackles were becoming riskier by the minute, you barrelled into poor Missy Bo Kearns around the 60th minute mark who fell to the floor clutching her leg in agony. You were fortunate to only receive a yellow card.

As the match drew to a close and you managed to keep a clean sheet, Liverpool took one last go at attacking in the 91st minute. The play was started by Taylor Hinds who managed to get the ball through Arsenal's experienced midfield and onto the foot of the striker. Without thinking, you swiped the ball out from under her legs and gained possession back to your own side. However, Liverpool's number 9 had fallen to the ground in the tackle and was dramatically flailing about.

'Get up, you're fine' You insisted at the girl. When she refused to move you grabbed her biceps and tried to forcefully remove her from the grass, much to her surprise. The girl pushed you away from her.

'What the hell y/n?' she yelled capturing the attention of the teammates around you. As the ref blew her final whistle and the stands erupted in celebration at Arsenal's win, you ignored it all and advanced on the girl.

It had all been too much. And this girl was providing you with the perfect opportunity to let your anger out properly. You shoved her backwards.

'What are you doing?' Leah's voice was suddenly in your ear, her arms wrapping around your torso in an attempt to restrict you access to the poor Liverpool player. Katie appeared by your side and began to shield you from the abuse the Liverpool team had now began to shout at you...but it wasn't as though you didn't deserve it.

Leah dragged you backwards as you thrashed around in her grip, still trying to get to the Liverpool player. Eventually, Leah got you into the tunnel and haphazardly shoved you into the nearest empty room that she could find.

'Are you out of your mind?' Leah exclaimed 'You can't be starting fights like that! You'll be lucky if the FA doesn't fine you!'

'I don't care about the goddamn FA, Leah! Fuck them.' you try to advance on the door but Leah blocks your way.

'You're not leaving this room until you calm down'

Your brain was running at a million miles per hour, all you could think about was how much you needed to punch something or else you were going to break. You lunged past Leah but she was too quick and way stronger than you. She grabbed your entire upper body in her arms and held you against her chest, your head beneath her chin.

'Stop Y/n' she breathed 'It's okay'

For a moment, time slowed. You tried to escaped Leah's grip, you really did. But there was something about the way she was holding you with so much care and concern that you suddenly went lip in her arms and finally let out a gut-wrenching sob. As your legs collapsed, Leah carefully lowered the two of you to the floor so you were positioned between her legs. Your sobs racked your entire body, the pain in your chest had broken out and had been set free after 14 long months.

Leah placed small kisses to the top of your head. She rubbed your arms in comfort and never stopped whispering words of reassurance. When you were still sobbing fifteen minutes later she only pulled you tighter into her chest and folded her legs over your own.

'I've got you' she assured you.

Part 2?

#football #leah williamson #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal #kyra cooney cross #alessia russo

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mae-lou-ron · 2 months

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A Friend Indeed

Summary: Two years into settling on Pabu, Crosshair reluctantly finds solace in some familiar places.

Rating: T (might be G but set as T because I'm just a baby and I don't know how ratings work. Feel free to yell at me if I should change it) Warnings under the cut.

Tags/TWs: hurt/comfort, cute brotherly fluff, descriptions of PTSD, descriptions of sleep paralysis symptoms, recurring nightmares involving medical trauma (nothing described), heightened anxiety around dates, grief processing, mental health probs, just wrecker and crosshair being adorable brothers with their emotional support animals.

WC: ~1,800

A/N: this is the first work I've ever posted. It started as a completely self indulgent drabble of Crosshair bonding with a scrungly stray island cat (still in progress), but I loved writing this brotherly exchange between Crosshair and Wrecker so much it kinda turned into something else entirely by the end? This story falls in line with my HCs that Wrecker is the mediator middle child, Tech is still alive and on Pabu with his family, and that he's an awful snorer. Proofread by me.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"And how is this supposed to help?" Crosshair seethed, looking down at the plush tooka doll his brother just shoved into his hand. "I don't need this, Wrecker."

"Oh come on, Crosshair, don't pretend like you didn't borrow Lula when we were younger...like that time you had nightmares after falling off the--"

"Stow it," Crosshair growled, throwing the doll back at his brother, but Wrecker, being used to his brother's temperament, dodged it easily. It tumbled to the floor and Batcher, who had been eyeing the tooka during their entire exchange, didn't hesitate to scoop it up and wiggle her hind quarters, hoping one of them would start a game of chase.

"Listen, I still get them too..." Wrecker said quietly as he took a step towards Crosshair, his hand resting on the sniper's shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "Want to tell me about it?" He was no stranger to navigating Crosshair's anger. Especially now, after two years of them living on Pabu, two years into recovering mentally and physically from their experiences with the Republic and the Empire, two years of healing the bonds between one another. Wrecker knew that it was always a cover for something more nuanced. So, he was quiet and let Crosshair percolate with his thoughts before he spoke about what was bothering him. After a few moments, Crosshair grumbled, resisting the urge to shrug his shoulder free, but the wall he put up cracked just enough.

"It's just..." Crosshair’s hand clenched into a fist at his side. Batcher flopped down on her bed dramatically at being ignored, still holding the tooka gently in her mouth. "It's not just the nightmares..." he mumbled. Wrecker took a half step back, eyes soft and trained on his brother's deep furrowed brow and scowl at opening up like this. But Wrecker was patient.

When Crosshair continued, his voice was barely a whisper, "Sometimes when I wake up I'm still stuck there and...I can't...I can't move..." he trailed off, his mind flitting back to that morning.

He'd woken from the dream, or so he thought. Tantiss' medical droids were still swirling in his periphery, the smell of disinfectant still sharp in his nose. His nervous system immediately reacted, seeking to lash out, to escape, but his body didn't respond- for a horrible moment he thought he might be strapped down again but no, nothing was biting into his skin, he simply couldn't move. He tried to speak, but the words remained on his tongue.

No. He thought bitterly. They're not here. I'm not there.

He kept repeating this in his head, almost like a mantra as the panic coursed through his body. The droid never came close enough to touch him, but still close enough to be a threat. It felt like an eternity until his tunneled vision brightened slightly, the bits and pieces started to fade, and his bedroom in his Pabu home came into the forefront. He could finally feel his limbs thawing, the weight of the blanket on his feet, the rising sun casting speckles on the wall, the sound of seabirds calling in the distance. These things helped ground him enough to remember his training, he slowed his breathing in an attempt to quiet his pounding heart. It worked, but it didn't quiet completely, not until he could feel his toes wiggle.

Wrecker's warm hand gave his shoulder another squeeze, gently bringing Crosshair back to the present moment. Crosshair glanced up at his brother's scarred face, into his concerned, mismatched eyes for a fleeting moment before shaking his head and casting his eyes back downward. Wrecker was always a good listener despite his boisterous demeanor. He never tried to talk Crosshair out of how he was feeling, or suggest solutions unless asked. He was content to be an ear to bend and a shoulder to lean on.

And Crosshair would rather be slowly digested by that massive tentacled sea creature in the bay than have all of his family members concern be directed towards him. Hunter watched and hovered too much and it only frustrated Crosshair more. Tech would listen and be sure to provide the most annoyingly practical solution. Echo was his first choice to go to about this specific issue, but he was away again and difficult to get a hold of these days. Omega, his heart softened a little thinking of her. She would drag him to the cliffs and insist they meditate, look at him with those kind, concerned eyes. His eyes.

No. Absolutely not. Wrecker was his best option at not driving Crosshair back into himself. And he was so tired, so the wall came down a bit further. He looked up quickly again to make sure Wrecker was still listening. He always was.

"And they're...often," The sniper's lips pressed into a thin line. "Almost every morning this past week," Crosshair continued. "And sometimes in the middle of the night, which are the worst," he spat out so quickly it took Wrecker a second to process what he said.

"This happened last year around this time too," Wrecker thought out loud. Crosshair cringed at the realization he'd already known, but grunted in affirmation. He had learned that sometimes this is how it goes, especially around dates with any significance, and they returned from Tantiss for the last time on this day two years ago.

Wrecker looked thoughtful for a moment before his face brightened at a sudden idea. He strode around the room and started gathering the cushions and pillows, tossing them into a pile in front of the couch.

"What are you doing?" Crosshair drawled wearily, his eyes following Wreckers movements. He was already regretting his decision to speak more freely about this.

"I'm getting comfy," Wrecker said plainly as he settled down amidst the pile of pillows, leaning back against the couch. Batcher took this as an invitation to dig out her own spot at Wrecker's side, Lula in tow, settling down with it under her chin. "See?" he said, his tone light. "Let's camp out here!" He said spreading his arms wide before returning his hands to the back of his head. "You know like back on Kamino in the training storage room whenever Tech would snore too loud?" He grinned at the memory. "Hunter would always find us and act all annoyed but he just always wanted to know where we were...and get away from Tech's snoring,"

"Still does," Crosshair snorted, one corner of his mouth curling up slightly. Admiration for his brothers pulled him out of his resolute melancholy a little more. He settled down on the other side of Batcher, resting his arm over her back like he'd done a thousand times before. The hound grumbled at him when he lifted her chin gently to retrieve Lula.

"No." Crosshair said firmly. Batcher's eyes still followed the doll but she settled back down. He held Lula before him, taking in the tattered fabric, the stains, the patches added to mend rips and burns. One of her ears was almost completely gone.

"This thing is...disgusting," Crosshair scoffed quietly, it was almost a chuckle.

"Yeah, it is," Wrecker laughed heartily. "But she's been with us the whole time. Look..." he said pointing at the burn across the doll's back. "That's from when those clanker disrupters I made for your fire puncher went off in the barracks, remember?" He smiled widely remembering how angry Tech was at them for setting his bed on fire, while he was still in it. And Wrecker's, but that was nothing new back then. He continued regaling Crosshair with anecdotes about how the blemishes were made over the years.

Wrecker suddenly yawned, stretching and settling further into the nest, "Alright if I sleep here tonight," he said drowsily, more a statement than a question, his eyes still bright. Stars, he was a terrible liar, but Crosshair appreciated his attempts to not wound his pride. To give Crosshair the choice for his company without having to ask for it.

He was working on it.

"I suppose," he drawled. It was already late when his brother came by to check on him— and it's not like Wrecker would be easily moved at this point anyway.

Crosshair, resigned but thankful for the company, studied the tooka for a while longer. The knot in his chest loosened slightly at the reminder of the joyful and chaotic moments they've shared. Bright moments poking through the darkness like the stars studding the night sky. Instead of tucking the doll under his arm or clutching it to his chest, he stuffed it behind his head before settling back onto its familiar softness.

Crosshair folded his arms over his chest, closing his eyes and tuning in on the sounds of the insects chirping softly outside, the distant waves were harder to hear now that the tide had retreated, but still added to the calmness that now descended upon the island. Batcher grumbled in contentment, and soon Crosshair's breathing matched Wrecker's, lulling him into a more peaceful sleep than he'd had all week.

The next morning when Crosshair opened his eyes, the frightening things he may have dreamt about didn't follow him. They stayed where they belonged, far out of his periphery. The bright orange morning creeping over the horizon chased away some of the shadows from his mind. Not all of course, but, some. Wrecker and Batcher were still right beside him, both very real and sleeping soundly. He wiggled his toes experimentally. Pleased when the joints flexed on his command. He could move and get up if he wanted, but it was still far too early to rise and start the day. Instead, Crosshair did something he hasn't done in weeks- he went back to sleep.

Maybe he was still right, he thought as he drifted off again, Lula still tucked under his head. Maybe he didn't need this, but he had to admit, it helped.

#tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb batcher #the bad batch #that pabu life #tbb fluff #the bad batch fluff #star wars fan fiction #the bad batch fan fiction #tbb Crosshair fan fiction #tbb wrecker fan fiction #tw ptsd #tw sleep paralysis #mae lou ron writes

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softspace-fics · 23 days

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Hiiiiii I just read your new loki fic with a disabled little and I was amazing to read especially when it's relatable like that I have a bad relationship with my health 😅

If your comfortable with it I really feel that a stucky x disabled little would be a perfect match cuz bucky is disabled (just in a cooler way with the vibranium arm) and iv been reading how you write bucky and Steve and they just want what's best for they're little so I need to read them helping the reader be more comfortable with they're disability.

You can ignore this but I just wanna say I love your blog and I hope your having a great day

-🦄

Hurts.

Masterlist - All my work!

A/N - hiii! I am so sorry your request took a little bit because I wanted to make it similar yet different to my story "It's hard." because everyone's experience with pain and why they don't feel comfortable with others when in pain, or for why they have bad relationship with their health is completely different. I wish I could include everyone in each post, and if you'd like to share your story with me I'd love to know, your never alone in your battles. If you have any feed back please let me know!

Warnings⚠️: mentions of rough family life, parents saying meds should fix the pain, ignorance of how pain affects someone, negative regression, mentions of bucky in hydra but nothing significant, please let me know if I missed anything!!

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader

___________

Bucky understood what it was like to be in unbearable pain, feeling like your entire body was being ripped to shreds. He had been stuck being experimented on for how long? When he told Steve about how he felt on a daily basis even after not being experimented on for a while, Steve did his best to learn how to help him out when the pain just made it unbearable.

This meant that steve tried hard to figure out the best ways to help anyone who was in severe amounts of pain. He tried epsom salts, different type of ointments, mental care, anything he possibly could think about to make bucky comfortable.

So when they met you, you didn’t seem out of the ordinary for them, to them you were seen as such sweet person and you were pretty confident. When people would talk to you, you helped them out if you could, or were polite in saying you couldn’t.

You had originally met the two in a library when Steve and Bucky were looking for different types of books to try and learn more about the world today. You were trying to reach for the book on the highest shelf, and pain was shooting through every fiber in your body. You were exhausted and uncomfortable when you saw Steve's shadow behind you and got spooked. You jumped and nearly fell over from moving too quickly off your tippy toes. He gently grabbed your arm to stabilize you before smiling at you and apologizing for scaring you.

He asked if you needed help with getting the book off the shelf and you quietly said yes. It was one of your favorite childhood books, you read them sometimes when you regress, although he didn’t need to know that. You felt bad making him do it for you, even though he asked. You know it wasn’t anything significant but you had never been able to accept help.

Your family barely paid any attention to your pain, you were thrown on meds that did nothing when you were a kid and they stopped caring. Everytime you said something you always got “Well, did you take your meds?” “Your meds worked yesterday, don’t lie to me” Meds this, meds that. It got to the point you stopped taking meds and never asked your parents for help with your pain.

When you were able to finally get into doctor offices by yourself you got meds that helped somewhat, but you still never felt as if you could rely on anyone else to help with your aches and how you felt on the inside. You had meds which meant that you should be fine and learn to deal with the pain on your own. Right?

You had seen the duo in the bookstore quite often after the first interaction, learning they were together and they were shocked when you told them you had no clue who “captain America” or the “winter soldier” was. You never really payed attention to the world outside of your bubble, you couldn’t relate to a lot of people so you shut off a lot of the outside.

Eventually they asked you out, and from then on is history. But something you still hadn’t told them about was the chronic pain, and the regression that came from it. You had times where getting out of bed was the worst idea ever, showering was beyond out of the question, and regression was the only option your brain had.

You’d regress young enough that you could toddle and make it from point A to point B, but past that you had no survival when you were in so much agony. This means there became times you didn’t eat for hours, you’d sleep longer than you should, and there would be times you didnt respond for hours to anyone.

Bucky and Steve got super worried on days you never replied, they tried to let you have your space, thinking that it was something that you just did, but when you didnt show up for a date at their place, they ran over, thoughts racing.

They knocked on your door which woke you up, but you had no energy to attempt in getting up. Not knowing it was them, you assumed it was a package and tried to go back to sleep when they knocked louder.

Steve continued to knock while bucky prayed that you had left a key outside to your apartment incase you lost yours. He looked under a brick and practically ran to get your door open. Thank god that he remembered people put keys under rocks.

When they got in the apartment, the quickly rushed to find you. Scanning and worridly running around.

“Y/N??” Steve shouts, checking the bathroom.

“Sweetheart?!” Bucky yells as he opens the door to your room, where he finds you crumpled in pain, your room darker than a cave.

“Please, stop screaming.” You mumble quietly, you clutch your stuffie to your chest, your regression starting to set in after being brutally awaken.

Bucky quickly comes and sits by your side, helping to pull the blanket away from your face, looking at you with complete and utter concern.

Steve eventually comes in with some things in his hands, bucky looks at him puzzled before connecting the dots.

See, Bucky found you, but Steve found your regression and safe room. Where you had soft toys and padding everywhere. It was something you had filled with everything that you could need for when your regressed, and when it hurt too much to move.

The two knew what age-regressors were from tony, seeing as him and Stephen were the proud caregivers of Peter and Wanda. So when Steve saw your pacifier and heating pads, and anything else that might help, he grabbed it all.

“Baby, can you tell us whats wrong?” Bucky softly asks, tucking your hair behind your ear, Softly rubbing your thigh with his thumb.

“Hurts.” you mumble out softly, you slowly flip over, and bury your face into bucky's stomach. His scent fills your lungs, and he slowly starts to rub your back, holding you closely.

Steve comes up behind Bucky, his face contorted to a face of his own pain. He hated seeing you so upset, and mowing you were trying to fend for yourself, by yourself, hurt him.

“Do you want your pacifier darling?” Steve gently asks, he wasn’t sure if you knew he had found your room, and wasn’t wanting to freak you out.

Hearing him ask that question, you looked up from bucks embrace with pure terror. How did he find it? Why was he so calm about it?

Bucky softly cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead before pulling you back into his embrace, rubbing small circles on your back before he speaks calmingly.

“Doll, we know about regression or age-dreaming, there's nothing to be afraid of, we promise.”

You relax into his hold before slowly nodding. Steve hands you your paci and you slide it between your lips and just rest against bucky, the pain minorly subsiding with the extra pressure of his hug.

“Baby, I know that the pain can be hard to handle, but you don't have to go this alone, you'll never be alone now that we're here. Whatever we can do, we want to do it. Please never feel as if you have to fight this battle alone.” Bucky manages to barely whisper out, fighting his own emotions.

Your tears begin to fall, hearing words you've never heard before. You’ve had to fight by yourself for so long, that maybe them knowing wasn't for the worst.

“Your not alone anymore, never alone. We're with you now. The pain doesn't have to be suffering anymore, let us help.” Steve sits next to you and buck, rubbing your back and leaving little kisses on your head.

You slowly nod, wanting someone to be there, maybe this time, you'll be able to accept the help. The right help.

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ficsinhistory · 3 months

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I think the problem with S3 of The Bear was that ok the mess, the coldness and the distancing and the plots in general...if it seemed like it was intentional. If they had a long term plan and this was a bait to change course later like good stories do. But it wasn't, it was just poorly written (and a bit racist).

For example, we could see Sydcarmy being separated because of Carm's worsening mental health and him wanting to convince himself that Claire is better because he doesn't want to make mistakes with the kitchen family and Syd anymore, more as a legitimate plot point and less as Storer wanting to sink Sydcarmy at any cost (which was a stupid idea and I don't even need to say why) if it didn't completely sideline Syd and obliterate her and Carmy's character in the process. Because that man may be chaotic and stupid as he may be, but Carm always cared about Syd's well-being at the end of the day.

Even after doing something stupid, Carmy always had this worry about asking how she felt about it. And that's what made their relationship different and the heart of the show. He can be distant and cold, but ignoring Syd's wishes? Doesn't give her credit when he was the one who asked her to be her partner in the first place??? The same person who recognized in 3x01 that the credit for them getting through the family and friends' night was solely hers, because he knew he had screwed up everything and didn't deserve to be part of it? Not only that, him being an idiot to Natalie, yelling about money when she was pregnant? Even though she was his only living sister? And that he started going to therapy at her request even though he didn't want to after realizing that yes, she was right? And not going to see his niece because he was more worried about Claire?? The woman who, let's be honest, he didn't like. I mean, he a panic attack thinking on HER!!! And now she is his peace??? Using suspiciously the term that the Sydcarmy fandom baptized Syd, almost as an affront. (And let's remeber Claire was pretty happy talking how she almost kill a teenage. I was bawling my eyes if was me. Weirdo (derogatory))

And speaking of her, Sydney Adamu, my beloved and favorite character, what did they do to you? She was thrown into the corner so much that I couldn't believe it. She is a protagonist and ok, she and Carmy are on tense terms, but why not take advantage of the fact that they are more apart to delve deeper into her and her relationships, find out more about her. Her relationship with her mother and father? Any flashbacks, since there were so many, about Sheridan and how this still affects her? She and the rest of the members of The Bear, Nat, Richie. She should exist outside of Carmy in her own right, but they just threw her in there and gave screen time to Claire and the Faks and that sucks. Which leads to another point, why don't you talk more about the og members of The Bear. Okay, we had Napkins for Tina, fair enough. But what about Gary, Ebra, Many? Marcus, whose mother died barely had any weight? It left a bitter taste in the mouth. If they want to fix this, they're going to have a lot of work to do, because history has taken everything to an almost unsustainable level. It's okay to be a tragedy, but give us the rays of sunshine, so we can believe in the best. And we didn't have that. It was just going in circles and that could cost the entire story.

#The bear #The bear s3 #the bear spoilers #Sydcarmy #Joanna come gets your character please

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hjellacott · 11 months

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Bit worried about Ashlyn Harris actually

Aside from all the drama that's been going on lately, I've got to confess that for the past few months (or years?) I've been wondering what the hell is up with this woman.

I was such a huge fan back when she was just this Satellite Beach goalkeeper with a humble head and the love for skate-boarding and surfing and you know, family & friends first and her work with To Write Love on Her Arms. And I get people change and that none of us ever really knew her, but I've seen I'm not the only one who can't believe what she's turned into. Like, can we recognise her any more? Or was the completely playing out to be an entirely different person ten years ago?

I think it started when she came out with Ali and suddenly she was like, this attention-seeking, uncomfortably loud (as in literally screaming) person with the weird, rather cringey fashion, only talking about gay things and nothing else, behaving like the complete soccer start that to be entirely fair she wasn't... Even on her wedding video I couldn't believe that Ashlyn was the same Ashlyn of 2011, 2012, 2013... It's not even that many years to change so much, let alone in your thirties. It's like there were no remnants of the surfer, the skate-boarder, the humble butch from a small town who valued the little things... Like she was adamant on transforming into this massively public, loud, "fashionable (?)" celebrity. Even when giving interviews she was expressing herself like she had no intellect any more, you know like male footballers speak, like it's all looks and no brain, no sign of the person who got a uni degree and who gave an amazing mental health talk with TWLOHA years back.

And then when they were celebrating the WC, I was thinking, since when is she this loud and arrogant? Since when is she so attention-seeking? When did she turn into this whole other person who makes such a huge effort to ignore her lack of National Team performances and pretend like she deserved her world cup as much as Ali or Pinoe? I get subs deserve the medal and all too, I mean, they made it so far and if they weren't there training with the rest, the rest wouldn't be as good. You're only as good as the worst of you, after all. But none of the others was bragging so loudly and calling themselves x2 champions so much without having played a minute of those games, were they? Even Alyssa Naeher doesn't have world cup champion in her profiles, nor does AD Franch, nor PINOE, but you know who does? Hope Solo. And you don't want to have THAT personality. I feel like when you're confident on your victories, you don't need to brag, everyone knows who you are, your work speaks for itself.

What worries me about AH (sit down here comes my Psychology Grad analysis) is that in the past few years she's been more and more behaving like someone with no self-esteem, who's desperately afraid of being forgotten and needing to shout left and right look at me! i'm a champion! I'm a soccer star! And then she stopped getting called up for the USWNT, got stuck in the Pride (and I love them but bunch of losers tbh), and all she had left was Ali. And then Ali's doing better than she is. And then Ashlyn gets these horrible injuries and that's story of her life (injuries effed her up from day 1 and seriously impacted her career) and she's forced into an abrupt retirement with no glory.

And then emerges this Ashlyn who only cares about rubbing elbows with celebs, who believes herself to be some fashion mogul (that's all she's got left) and who is deeply satisfied with how her life turned out to be and how she's ended up being nothing but a footnote in the history of American women's soccer, specially compared to her wife. We know they've had issues for a while, that has been hinted at before, and I can only imagine there must've been a growing resentment/bitterness towards Ali because she gets everything Ashlyn won't in terms of soccer. In fact it seems to me (and maybe it's just me), that she seems to be ferociously resentful to soccer in general, like, suddenly she wants nothing to do with it and wants to pretend like soccer is not a big deal. How many times as she stated quite firmly that she's now happiest she's ever been and acted almost as if soccer was actually holding her back? as if her soccer career is nothing compared with what she has now, when we know it isn't true, because she still feels the need to remind us she's a twice world cup champion all the time?

So from a psychology point of view I think she's very bitter, very hurt, very pissed off, very resentful, that she hasn't processed her forced retirement and her not so good soccer career in a healthy way, and so she has to pretend like she's super happy and better than she was before so as not to look like the failure she feels she is. She has to use social media all the time and brag about the celebrities she's meeting, the trips she's going in... She's got nothing else but to pretend she's still as successful as all her friends she has to constantly see in social media showing off with the accomplishments she wishes she had. It's the classic game of getting depressed comparing yourself to others so you take to social media to constantly pretend you're as good as them or better, we all do it. And she's gone, in my humble opinion, off the rails, she's unrecognaisable, and if she has really had an affair and hurt Ali this big, as rumours have it, then that only strengthens my opinion. Like, I wouldn't be surprised if she's abusing substances again, if she's in some spiral downhill as it looks like. And what's Ali going to do? She can't focus on looking after her, she's got work, she's got two small kids, at this age Ashlyn needs to see she needs help and seek it on her own, not expect Ali to mother her.

That's part of why I really don't like people going on and insulting her left and right, because we really don't know what's going on, but to me it seems like when someone's not well, when someone's spiralling, they start to really go off and the first people to get hurt are those closest to her. And we must remember she is a human being, even if she makes mistakes, even if she does bad things (IF she has), and she doesn't deserve billions of people judging her and making her life miserable. And none of us would like it in our consciences if she actually is struggling with her mental health and gets worse because of generalised mass bullying. She's still Sloane and Ocean's mother, and they probably love her very much, and Ali's probably struggling a lot, so we need to remember supporting one person does not have to mean stooping so low as to have to become horrible bullies. Let's stay human, y'all.

#ashlyn harris #ali krieger

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broadwaycutie16 · 3 months

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Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is this whole Karma of Lies thing about? I often have some of your posts showing up on my dashboard about how people are not listening to you clarifying things about your story, but I avoided looking into the whole situation myself because I don't want to expose myself to so much (Adrien) salt which I know is at the initial root of all this (or at least, thats how it came across to me)

Would you explain for me what this situation is about? I'm always intrigued by this whole thing whenever I see another post from you, because of how wild reading about it all out for context is, but now curiosity finally got the best of me x3

So basically, KoL starts as your basic salt plot. Marinette’s being bullied by Lila, her friends are extorting her and accusing her of being unfair to Lila, Adrien’s just like “everything’s fine, Marinette” and telling her to just take all the crap from everyone.

Then Hawkmoth’s identity gets out, and Lila decides to cut her losses and get the hell out of there, but not without getting something out of the deal. She gets Adrien to send her money to her, and because Adrien is so trusting, he puts in the info for his family’s emergency bank account right where she can see it, not even thinking that Lila would try to screw him over. Spoiler alert: She does. She drains Adrien’s whole account of fifty million, leaving him without a cent in this catastrophic time in his life, and skips town by telling her mom a sob story. She also tricks the class into giving up their most expensive possessions, and then sells them to other people after she leaves.

So now Lila’s committed a grand felony, and she’s clear to continue her reign of terror anywhere she wants, with her newfound wealth goving her limitless potential on destroying lives. And you know what Marinette does to stop her?

NOTHING.

Marinette refuses to lift a finger to get Lila arrested. The narrative would have you believe that it’s because she’s setting boundaries and taking care of her mental health for a change, but it’s easy to figure out the REAL reason. She gives all these excuses over why she’s unable to do anything about it, using lots of loopholes, completely ignoring the fact that she’s supposed to be a superhero and thus has a moral obligation to stop Lila, if nothing else just to save all the innocent people she’ll destroy in the future.

Meanwhile, Adrien becomes penniless, his father goes on the run, and his aunt refuses to personally take him in because she’s more concerned about the scandal than about her orphaned nephew, basically resigning him to live in Marinette’s old apartment with hardly anything to call his own while Marinette moves into his old room at the mansion after getting a job with Audrey Bourgeois, who has now taken control of Gabriel’s company. And all through this, Marinette and the narrative are basically saying, “you didn’t help me when I needed you to stick for me, so now I’m not gonna help you when you need it”, basically ignoring the fact that what’s happening to Adrien is a hundred times worse than what happened to her.

Even worse, Marinette trashes all her friends’ reputations on live TV, calling them out for mistreating her without stating the reason why they mistreated her, so the public doesn’t know the full story. And Adrien, desperate to get his life back, makes a stupid and arrogant mistake and tries to take down Mayura by himself, but is easily fooled by her to give her opportunity to steak his ring. The villains are defeated, but now everyone in Paris thinks Adrien gave Nathalie the ring on purpose, and accuse him of being a willing accomplice to his father, effectively crushing any little particles of hope he had left for his future.

But what truly makes this fic a dumpster fire of a story, is how the author directs the whole narrative to try and make you believe that everything that happened to Adrien was 100% justfied, that not supporting Marinette and letting some girl bully her and turn her friends against her, a problem that was temporary at worst and that basically was nothing more than some schoolgirl drama, means that he, a fourteen year old boy from an abusive household, deserves to be virtually homeless, bankrupt, disowned by his entire family, and falsely accused if terrorism, and doomed to living the rest of his life out on the streets, without even the slightest conception that maybe it was a little too much.

Oh, and the only punishment Lila gets is some vague warning from Marinette about her future, and apparently, that’s supposed to be enough to stop the girl who knowingly teamed up with a terrorist and was willing to doom the city just to get back at one person for one embarrassing incident in front of one person.

Basically, The Karma of Lies is the worst salt fic of all the salt fics, punishing Adrien for childish stupidity with permanent life damage beyond anything written in salts before, and trying to send the message that it’s okay for Marinette to let it all happen just to get back at him for not being a better friend.

Trust me, do not read it. It is a garbage fire. I regret reading it every day. It’s really messed with my head. Even now, I’d wholly welcome an infinite number of sequel fics punishing Marinette and her “friends” (read: evil minions) for what they did, because if the story says that Adrien deserves his fate for doing nothing, they deserve even worse. This fic is the epitome of everything wrong with the Miraculous Ladybug fandom.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #adrien agreste #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous salt #marinette salt #adrien sugar #marinette bashing #the karma of lies #ml the karma of lies #karma of lies salt #karmic backlash #ml karmic backlash #writers PLEASE write more sequels to this #my mental health will thank you

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blue--ingenue · 25 days

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Slytherin Traits

Note: This is just my interpretation of Slytherin traits. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn't 💚

“Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends” - Work smart, not hard. Colleges and publishers deem textbook piracy “immoral” and “unfair” to other students who pay full price for books. But when higher education prices are inflated by privileged administrators, this power imbalance nullifies such comments. It also reminds me of a quote I saw spray-painted on a wall:

“If paying is not owning, then pirating isn’t stealing.” I wouldn’t go out and steal a physical textbook, but no real money is lost if I replicate a few hundred pixels on a screen so that I can finish my education

Additionally, choosing to play “fair” in a system designed to exert control over people with less privilege and power will not benefit you. The same people setting arbitrary standards for “fairness” can often be the same ones benefiting from those rules.

Continuing on with being cunning, bending the rules here and there can help you level the playing field. Blanket statements and generalized restrictions don’t affect everyone equally. For example, exams that rely on hard memorization, and testing environments that punish students for fidgeting are ableist and severely limit the types of students who will be able to succeed in school/university.

In my case, my class was allowed to bring a single note sheet to our final exam. I have trouble memorizing formulae/processes, but can solve nuclear reactor physics if the formulae are in front of me. Although the professor advised against writing out full examples, I bought an ultra-thin writing ink pen and crammed all the exampled I needed. I passed.

Ambition, defined as “a strong desire to do or achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work.” Ambition is very subjective. One Slytherin’s ambition may be to graduate at the top of their class and become an expert in their field. Another’s ambition might be to set healthy boundaries for themselves to prioritize their mental health. Someone else’s goal might just be to get out of bed that day. The only person who can decide the importance of your goal is yourself.

Everyone has different abilities, desires, material resources, and life experience. No matter the goal, ambition is essential for completion, and success in any measure deserves celebration.

Speaking of accomplishments, pride can be a well-deserved reward for achieving your goals. You more than deserve to celebrate your successes. Taking pride in your achievements can help build self-confidence. Feeling capable, accomplished, and proud of yourself can be empowering.

In my experience, it’s a lot easier to underestimate yourself than it is to oversell your accomplishments. If you’re someone who tends to downplay your abilities/accomplishments, there’s a chance that you’re selling yourself short. Take pride in yourself. You’ve earned it.

Slytherins also understand how it feels to be Othered, negatively stereotyped, or feared. As a queer POC and one of only ten women in my major (bearing in mind that my university's graduating class size is 10,000 people per year), I know what it feels like to be singled out. I was also the only Asian student in my high school class, and the only family of color for a 1-mile radius in my hometown.

People tend to see you through their own narrow-minded lenses and stereotypes. This isn't a reflection of you, but merely a projection of their own prejudice and ignorance. No matter your reason for feeling Othered, know that their comments and limited perceptions are merely their own self-reflections.

#slytherin #hpcc #harry potter #the cursed child #harry potter and the cursed child #scorpius malfoy #albus potter

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piecesofreeses · 5 months

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We've Got You

Nick ignores his mental health in favor of staying on top of work. When his involuntary age regression catches up with him, Matt and Chris are there.

Told in 3rd person limited (like most of my stories) where the reader has access to Nick’s thoughts, but not Matt or Chris’s.

DISCLAIMER:

This is an age regression fanfic! Age regression is a completely nonsexual coping skill and it is represented appropriately and correctly as it relates to my life. Regression can be positive in many circumstances, but not all. If you are struggling with your mental health or involuntary age regression, talking to a professional is always the best choice.

Hate will not be tolerated, nor will it be entertained. I will not give you my attention; your comment will just be deleted! Please don’t waste your time, just take your bullshit somewhere else!

One more note:

This is NOT incestual, nor is it sexual in any manner. The comfort Nick receives during and after his panic attack is purely loving, familial support. Yes! They cuddle! Yes! They hold Nick and rub his back! Yes! They share a bed for the night! No! None of that makes this “weird!”

TWs: Panic attack, descriptions of the physical sensation of a panic attack, avoiding regression, swearing, lighthearted arguing, guilt for enjoying a pacifier

Okay on to the story!

Nick always tries to be the quick witted, loud, strong oldest brother. With the triplets spending so much time in LA just the three of them, more now than ever they have to keep each other in line. And yes, that means Nick has to take care of his brothers even when he doesn’t want to.

Matt may be their transportation as the only brother with a license, but Nick still feels like he’s mothering them half of the time. He’s constantly sticking a hand between his brother's faces both literally and metaphorically. While Nick probably couldn’t love Matt and Chris any more than he does, they’re brothers; it’s impossible for them not to get on his nerves sometimes.

Currently, the triplets are sitting in a parking lot about ten minutes from their house filming a car video. Nick is tired and has been a bit quieter than usual, leaving his quips and comebacks to a minimum, just listening to Matt and Chris rant.

Suddenly, of-fucking-course, the two are arguing again. It’s something stupid about the song that’s playing in the background— no wait— it’s about Matt’s phone? Nick isn’t really sure, he’s just exhausted. It’s not the other boys fault; they can disagree and get at each other throats all they want in the car videos. Nick knows the fans love it, but in that moment he’s just so goddamn overwhelmed.

Nick tries to open his mouth to tell his brothers to shut the fuck up, but no sound comes out. He feels a bit like he’s sinking into the backseat, totally isolated from the argument in the front. Nick knows he’s fine, so why does he want to cry? Why can’t he get his words to come out?

A tear escapes and slips down his cheek. He tries to wipe it away but his arm feels so heavy and his fingers feel so clunky and they’re not moving the way he needs them to. Why is everything so hard?

Without even meaning to, Nick lets a little whine slip past his lips. Even though he hates asking for help, he’s sure he needs Matt and Chris. If nothing else, they need to turn off the camera, but apparently the fighting in the front seat is too loud, because the boys give no indication of hearing him.

Oh no, Nick realizes as his mind gets even fuzzier, I’m slipping.

Nick knows he regresses if stress gets to him too much– his brothers know too, but God, it hasn’t happened in months.

He’s usually pretty good about preventing it by being gentle with himself, but it’s just been so fucking stressful this month. The end of the podcast just ended up being a lot of work and he didn’t have time to cater to his mental health the way he has to to make sure he never slips.

This is the result, I guess, Nick thinks. Because he refused to show himself some goddamn love when he was big, his brain was forcing him to regress. And he didn’t get to pick when.

“Matt?” The oldest choked out.

Still no response. Nick felt like he was sinking into his brain as everything started to feel eerily quiet, like his brother’s voices were coming from underwater.

Maybe I’m the one underwater, he thinks as the whole world begins to appear muted in color. My sensory processing just conked out, didn’t it.

“Chris? Help,” Nick tried again, but it came out even quieter than the previous attempt. Despite his every effort, Nick felt his eyes well up.

Why won’t they stop arguing? I need help! I need help and I don’t know how to get it! Someone please help me. Matt? Chris? Please help me.

It’s all far too much, so he closes his eyes and fights against his heavy limbs, eventually able to pick up his hands to cover his ears. He feels himself shaking gently and the first of his tears begin to flow down his cheeks. Apparently, Nick hasn’t breathed in a while, because suddenly he feels himself gasp involuntary. Fighting the sudden rush of air, his throat catches on nothing and he coughs out, forcing more tears to spill.

Nick’s forearms are covering his cheeks from the way he's trying to protect his ears, and he feels them wet from how hard he's begun to cry. He convulses in a sob and finally, a loud enough sound comes out.

“Nick?!” He hears Matt yell. “Something’s wrong, Chris! Turn that shit off!”

They’re coming. They’re gonna help. Please hurry, though.

“Okay, okay I am. Go get in the back with him!” Chris’s response comes, quieter.

He doesn't even hear the door open, but suddenly Matt’s arms are around him. He’s wracked by sobs as his body relaxes into Matt’s chest.

It’s all okay. I’m okay. They’ll make it okay.

Matt’s arms are rubbing Nick’s back as he shakes and he can feel how his tears have wet the shoulder of his t-shirt. A moment later, he feels the seat underneath them move like another body has sat down, and then he hears Chris’s voice.

“It’s okay, Nick. We’ve got you,” Chris says gently. As Matt keeps touching him comfortingly, Chris keeps talking.

“The camera is off and we can delete all the footage later. I’m so sorry we didn’t notice what was happening earlier. Matt and I are gonna help, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

“Chris,” Matt whispers, “Take him? I want to get us home.”

“‘Course,” Chris says. Nick whines and holds onto Matt, clearly comfortable where he is, but the boys are still able to switch who he’s sitting onto fairly easily. He's stopped crying and looks up at Chris as he pulls him into his lap. Chris is sitting properly in the left seat with Nick on his lap, back leaned against the door and head on Chris’s shoulder. It's probably illegal, but with the boy no longer crying, they won’t be taking any risks.

As Matt gets out of the back and back into the driver’s seat, Chris haphazardly wraps the seatbelt over the two of them. Nick pulls his knees up and burrows his head into his brother's shoulder. Quietly, he pulls a thumb into his mouth before looking up at Chris as if waiting to be told off. He waits, half expecting to be called gross, even though he knows his brothers don't find his regression gross.

“Oh, you’re small, Nicky. How old are you?” Chris asks with nothing but love in his voice. Nick doesn't respond, just closing his eyes and sinking into the comfort.

“He’s small?” Matt asks from the front. “How old did he say?”

“Didn’t respond. I’d guess one by the thumb and how he was crying earlier,” Chris responds, petting Nick's hair and trying to make sure he doesn't slip out of his lap on the drive home.

Matt sighs, “Okay, we’re only a minute away from home. What do you think we do when we get there? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him regress.”

“Well first get his pacifier, I don’t want his fingers in his mouth and longer than they have to be, but I’m pretty sure he’ll cry if I try to take them out without a replacement. Next… uhh… I don’t think he’s going to be chill with me letting go of him unless I'm literally putting him into your arms, but he seems exhausted. I’d say we all get in your bed and try to get him to go to bed? It’s late for all of us, especially for the baby,” Chris says, looking down at Nick and laughing quietly as they pull into the driveway.

“Alright, I’m going to come and help you stand up with him so you can carry him in. He’s not going to walk himself, is he?” Matt replies, looking back at the little boy curled into Chris with his thumb in his mouth.

“No way.” Chris says, reaching to unbuckle them. Matt steps out of the car and opens the door for Nick and Chris.

Sounding confused, Matt asks, “How are we going to make this work?”

“You just take him? I don't think I can stand up with him in my lap even with your help,” Chris suggests. Matt slots his arms under Nick’s knees and picks him up bridal style. Luckily, there is minimal protest from the little, just a whine and some still watery eyes. With Nick out of his lap, Chris climbs out of the car, shuts the door, locks it and runs up ahead of his brothers to unlock and open their door.

Now that they are standing, Matt carries Nick with ease. Up the steps of their porch and into the house, the lack of strain on Matt’s face makes it appear as if Nick really is a baby. Chris smiles with the thought as he follows the two inside and closes the door behind them.

“I’ll find his paci. Get in bed?” Chris calls out as he tosses the car keys on the kitchen table.

“Got it,” comes Matt’s reply. Chris has no idea where the little’s paci might be, but it’s pretty important that he finds it, so he starts by tearing out the couch cushions to see if it's tucked underneath one of them. With no luck, he heads up to Nick’s room and strips his bed, checking if it might be in there. Unfortunately, the stupid blue thing is still nowhere to be found.

Nick can hear Chris tearing his room apart looking for his pacifier as Matt carries him upstairs.

He’s never gonna find it.

Too small to tell Matt where it is, he just tugs on his sleeve and looks down the hall to his room.

Fortunately, Matt gets the message. “Want to go help Chrissy?” Matt says and turns toward the sound of the rummaging. As they walk into the room, Chris looks at the boys defeated.

“I can’t find it,” he sighs.

“Losat,” comes Nick’s small voice.

Oh no, are they going to think that means I lost it? No no, that’s supposed to be “closet.”

“In the closet?” Matt and Chris respond in unison, walking into the closet and digging through the junk on his closet floor.

Oh thank God.

Matt sets Nick down, leaning his back against the closet wall so he can move his shoes. Underneath, he finds a small shoebox covered in stickers. How promising. Opening it up, Matt discovers the pacifier and a couple small toys.

“Bingo, Chris! It's right here,” Matt exclaims.

“Why’d you hide it away like this, sweet pea?” Chris asks the little boy, scooping him up like a koala. Nick doesn't respond other than a whine and rests his chin on Chris’s shoulder, facing the opposite direction.

The boys walk out of the closet, Matt with a pacifier in hand and Chris with a Nick in… arms.

“I need to wash this off,” Matt says and walks into the bathroom.

“Okay, bring it to us when you're done,” Chris says and hikes Nick up so his legs can wrap around his waist. Nick has one arm wrapped around Chris’s shoulder and neck and the other bent so his thumb can slip back into his mouth. “You ready for bed, honey?” Chris whispers into his ear as he leans over the bed, working to gently disconnect Nick from him. Eventually, he separates them, laying Nick down on his back in Matt’s bed. Chris pulls Nick's shoes off, brushes the little’s hair out of his face, kicks off his own Crocs and crawls into bed with Nick. He drags the covers up over them and pulls Nick closer to make space for Matt to lay on the other side of the boy.

“Okay bub, I’ve got your paci,” comes Matt’s voice. Carefully, he pulls Nick’s hand away from his mouth and replaces it with the blue pacifier, slotting it between his lips.

That helps. That helps so much. Why am I like this? Why does that help?!

Matt slips under the covers and wraps his arms around the boy. “Nick, honey, I can see you freaking out. It’s okay that you like that. It's not gross, it’s not bad, and Chrissy and I don't mind. We love you bubba.”

“Luv yous too.”

#age regression #age dreaming #matt sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #comfort #sturniolo fanfic #age regressor #sfw #sfw littlespace

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questionableratatouille00 · 1 year

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𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff, died roughly 9 months ago. Unable to handle any more time alone in your formerly shared apartment, you decide to join a local therapy group you heard about from a friend. Little did you know, you’d meet a beautiful redhead going through a similar situation. You know you need to get better. For both your sake, and Natasha’s memory.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: death of a romantic partner, depression, mentions of death of a family member, anxiety.

||Part 2|| 🌻 Series Masterlist 🌻

———————————————————————

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 The apartment had never been this quiet. It was never so silent. There had always been some kind of white noise, whether that was the coffee pot or the washing machine running. It had never been completely silent, up until now.

You could divide your life into two parts. Before the accident, and after. Before the accident, your life was awesome. Of course, some pretty awful shit had happened to you, but it didn’t compare to all of the good shit that happened too. You liked living. You liked being alive. Now, well, you weren’t as sure.

It had been nine months. Nine months since the worst day of your life. Your life had been so full, and now, it felt so empty.

You get up. You get ready. You go to work. You drive home. You turn on the TV. And then, you just sit.

It’s been a while since the funeral. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d left your apartment for fun. You went to work and you went to the store. That was pretty much it.

The last time you’d left for any reason other than those had to be..maybe six months ago?

You’d gone to a coffee shop with your friend, Sharon.

“You’ve been so different after..you know. I completely understand, of course, but you shouldn’t have to live like this.” She said after sighing. She takes a sip of her latte from the porcelain mug in front of her.

“After my aunt died, I felt just like you, really. Remember my cousin Dottie? She went to a group therapy thing by the old Target. I don’t think they have it anymore, but some office nearby has to have one. I don’t know. I just think it would be good for you.” She suggested.

“I’ll think about it.” You said, knowing you were not going to be thinking about it. Part of you felt ignored, knowing that the relationship between you and your late girlfriend was different than that of Sharon and her aunt. You said nothing, staring down at your own drink.

“Good. I’ll send you some links later, alright?”

You nodded numbly.

You’d really ended up ghosting her after that, along with all of your other friends. Sharon was the only one who continued to try and reach out, sending you a message every two days or so. She didn’t stop, knowing that you were at least reading them.

You’d never reply, but that didn’t stop her.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you laid on the couch. You knew exactly who it was.

Hey! There’s a group near your apartment that’s only just starting up. I have a friend who went there for just one on one therapy, and she said the people were super nice. You should think about it 💕

You sighed, letting your phone drop on your stomach. And then, in an instant, it was like you’d just snapped out of a dream. You looked around your apartment, seeing how dirty it had become. Trash littered on the kitchen table and counters, trash bags stacked in a corner. It smelled gross. You smelled gross. You felt gross.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled to yourself, standing up. “This is fucking awful.”

You grimaced, and you realized that Sharon was right. You should think about it.

So you did.

You took out the garbage. You took most of the junk off of the table. You did some of the dishes. You took a nice, long shower. You made some kind of improvement. Even if it wasn’t much, it was at least something.

It was better than nothing. Then, you took Sharon’s advice. Sending her a quick thumbs up emoji, you clicked the link she sent you, opening the website.

A small form later, you were officially signed up. The first meeting would be on Wednesday.

—————————

“What do you think, Nat?” You mumble, adjusting your shirt. You weren’t wearing anything particularly nice, but you could tell there was a stark difference between what you looked like now, and what you’d looked like a few days ago.

You glanced down at the photo of the two of you you’d set on your dresser. Sucking in a deep breath, your phone vibrated in your pocket, your ringtone playing from its speakers. You’d set an alarm for when it was time to go.

The car ride there wasn’t too long. You’d been on much longer car rides before. One summer a few years ago, you and Natasha went on a road trip to a bunch of national parks.

You parked in the parking lot of the large building. Staring up at it, you noticed the logo and name. It was an eagle, you were pretty sure, in a circle. S.H.I.E.L.D. Therapy Offices, white letters on the front of the building announced.

Taking in more deep breaths, you nodded a few times. You were ready for this. Even if you weren't, there's no getting out of it. Not now.

Your legs felt hollow as you walked into the building. You were greeted by a large waiting room, which looked open and friendly enough. There was a reception desk, and a woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes smiled at you.

“Uh..hi,” you greeted awkwardly as you walked up to the desk.

“Hello. Are you here for that group?” She asked, and you felt your eyes widen. How would she know that? Did you look out of place?

“Sorry. We normally don’t have any appointments scheduled around now. Until the group, I mean.” She explained, and you nodded, smiling. Her name tag read ‘Maria Hill’, and you mentally took note of her name.

“Alright, I just need you to fill out this.” She slid a clipboard with some kind of form over the counter.

You smiled again, taking it and going to sit down. There was one other guy already there. He was wearing a purple shirt, his brown hair short. You couldn't tell what color his eyes were as he looked down at his phone.

You filled out the paperwork, going and taking the clipboard back to Maria.

"Thank you. Peter's gonna call you guys in when Dr. Coulson is done." She said, taking the clipboard from you. You went to sit back down, watching your feet.

The door opened, and two men—one short and skinny, and the other was about average height and seemed to have a bit of muscle on him, but you couldn’t be sure—walked up to the reception desk. The smaller one was blonde, with sky blue eyes and pale skin. He wore khaki pants and a t-shirt that was loose on him, and stood quite confidently. Not particularly bold or self-centered, just..open. He seemed very friendly, and you watched through your eyelashes as Maria Hill smiled at something he said.

The other guy dressed with a lot less confidence, and he stood awkwardly next to the blonde man. His hair was brown, and went down to a little above his shoulders. He had a jacket on, even in the warm weather. His eyes were a steel blue, though you only got a glimpse of them.

They quickly filled out their paperwork, and a few more people walked in. Most notably, a redhead. For a sliver of a moment, you mistook her for Nat. You mentally kicked yourself for it. You'd be lying if you didn't believe Nat could just walk through the door of your apartment any moment.

Her voice was warm, friendly. As she spoke to Maria, you could hear it. When she turned to fill out her clipboard, you saw her large doe-like green eyes. She smiled softly at you, before coming to sit a few seats down from you. She was beautiful, you couldn’t deny it.

Pushing that strange thought out of your head, you waited patiently.

A young man, with brown eyes and brown hair, walked through a hallway and into the waiting area. This must be Peter, you assumed.

“You can all follow me this way—Dr. Coulson’s ready now.” He announced.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #Wanda Maximoff series #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #Moving On

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dira333 · 11 months

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Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part II

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 2: (1,7k words)

He starts earlier on Monday, helping you load a van with bouquets you made over the weekend, all orders from different businesses close by.

“Could we make them on Saturday?” He asks when he carries the largest one, a monstrosity of beauty, all flowers a different shade of purple.

“We could. I usually plan out what I want on Friday and make sure the flowers are ready by Sunday. If you want, you can try your hand on some of those bouquets this Friday and I’ll make sure they stay fresh.”

You sign off the delivery guy and watch the van drive off before shaking your head as if to get rid of some unpleasant thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” He asks on instinct and you sigh.

“Do you think they will be treated well?”

“The flowers?” Your brows do that thing where they pinch slightly as if you’re trying to hold a thought in between them before releasing it. It’s cute and he shakes his own head to get rid of that thought.

“Yeah, sure. They’re beautiful, why wouldn’t they take great care of it?”

“People often mistreat things they see as perfect.” You tell him softly and another heavy thing settles in his gut.

- - -

It’s Friday again and he has to leave in about an hour for his biweekly therapy sessions, determined to finish his first company bouquet. The baby pink roses he chose as the centerpiece are determined to skin his hands and he can’t get that ribbon right, damning his hands that are suffering the most from the skin grafting.

He’s cursing a storm when the bell chimes and he cuts himself off, glaring at the customer who’s dared to interrupt his tirade.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his tone annoyed enough to pull you from the back room.

“Toya-kun.” You chide him softly before recognizing the customer as well, a sudden shyness washing over your face.

“Todoroki-san, hello.”

“I was in the area.” His father says. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I can’t tie this stupid ribbon, that’s how I’m doing.” He snarls and glares daggers at the baby pink ribbon in his hands.

”Do you want my help?” You ask and step closer when he nods, tying the baby pink ribbon around the stems and lifting the bouquet into a vase.

“Finish the presentation.” You take a step back and wait for him to position the flowers as he meant them to look. He ignores his father as he does so, intent on getting this right.

When he’s finished, he takes a step back and waits for your examination.

It’s not the first time you’ve let him do something on his own and examined the end product. He knows you like to look at it from every perspective, quietly contemplating until you’ve formed an opinion in your head. He likes that about you.

It’s just a little nerve-wracking right now when his father is also there, taking in his very first company bouquet and he can’t help but wonder what Enji thinks.

“What were your thoughts when making this?”

“Oh… well, they had dark purple last week and wanted something light this time. I looked up their company and the interior, at least in the pictures on the website, has a lot of white in it, so I thought picking too much white wouldn’t look that good, and yellow might clash too much.”

You nod and look up at his father, your voice a little timid as you ask. “What do you think, Todoroki-san?”

His father blushes, a sight so rare and unexpected he feels his hand search for his phone to snap a picture but the moment’s already gone when he clears his throat.

“I think it’s very nice. I didn’t know there were this many different flowers in the same color.”

You nod as if you’ve just heard the greatest wisdom and turn back to Touya.

“Excellent work. We’ll use your bouquet on Monday. I will leave you two alone but if you need help with your weekly bouquet, you can call me.”

You leave and he wishes you’d have stayed.

“Are you here to check on me or do you need something?” He asks, the words hard but his voice softer.

A year isn’t enough time to fix a relationship this rocky but they’ve improved significantly from when he wanted nothing more but to make his father suffer.

“Both. You’re mother and I are going out tonight and your flowers made you so happy this week, I wanted to surprise her with some flowers.”

“What do you have in mind?” He wipes his hands on his apron, takes one last proud look at his bouquet, and steps out from behind the till, pointing at the cut flowers.

“Something to show her that I’m grateful for her presence, loyalty, and love? And that I…” His voice dips lower, sounding almost timid now, “That I love her.”

They stand in silence for a moment, not looking at each other.

Touya desperately wants to call you back, because this is something you’re great at while he’s not so much.

He thinks about how you always know what questions to ask to get your few customers talking, how your voice is gentle, and how you never sound rushed.

He thinks about how you made him a peony and remembers how he felt when the flower opened, late Sunday morning, to beautiful shades of white and cream.

“Do you remember when you met Mom?” He asks, his voice scratchy but his father doesn’t comment on it. “How you felt back then?”

His father chuckles wetly. “Yeah. I’ve never met a woman like her before. She made me feel like I was good enough, just the way I was. I wished I could have stayed in that moment, in that feeling.”

Touya bends down and picks the flowers on instinct until his hands are filled with three perfect white piece lilies - the uneven number a comfort - hugged by a smattering of fiery red mini carnations, framed by whispy bear grass. He presents it to his father and acts like he doesn’t notice the taller man's hands shake as he takes the flowers.

“It’s perfect.”

Touya agrees.

And chooses to pick this as his weekly free bouquet, denying his father the chance to pay for it.

When he leaves, you come out from the back, sending him a new smile, one he’s not seen before on you.

“We just have enough time before you have to leave for a little lecture. What do you know about Bonsai?”

- - -

Natsuo visits him on Wednesday, claiming he needs flowers for a girlfriend.

Touya sees right through that lie but lets him stay around for a while, explaining the different flowers to him.

You’re back at the table binding a wreath, wearing the white shirt Touya thinks you should only wear when no one’s around.

You don’t get timid around Natsuo and it’s the only reason he allows his younger brother to look at you appraisingly, at least for a second or two, before he reminds him that he’s supposed to have a girlfriend.

- - -

On Friday, the bell chimes and Touya drops the book he’d been reading, a really boring but still informative guide to Bonsai care.

“Heya.” Hawks grins at him and Touya tries not to look at the clear absence of wings. He fails.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? You’re not happy to see me here? I thought we got along great during therapy.”

“Yeah, but that’s therapy.” He picks up his book and peaks at the doorway to the back but you’re nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’s lucky and you’re upstairs or in the bathroom.

“Your old man mentioned you’re pretty good at your new job and I wanted to see how you’re doing for myself. Besides, I do have a reason to be here besides wanting to see you.”

“Why? Did you finally ask out Miruko?”

Hawks laughs but it’s not the cocky laugh he uses to hide what he really thinks.

“Not there yet, but the agency decided that we want to switch from fake plants to real plants and I thought I’d hit you up first. You do more than bouquets, right?”

“We don’t need charity.”

“Are you sure?” Hawks points at the ceiling where the plaster has cracked in multiple places.

“Fine. But you have to promise to take care of them.”

He puts his book down and steps out from behind the till.

“Why? If they die I can come back and buy more and you’d make a lot more money.”

Touya huffs. “My boss doesn’t like it when plants suffer. Just… Just make sure they’re taken good care of.”

Something flashes over Hawks’s face but he nods.

“We could start with a few plants then and get bouquets for the bigger offices. What do you recommend?”

Touya stares at the plants, recognizing only one of them and knowing full well that Bonsai’s are not easy to take care of.

He curses and turns back. “I’ll get the boss. I’m better at bouquets.”

You’re in the backroom, passed out next to a peony bush.

“Hey.” He kneels down and takes your hand to check for your pulse, it’s steady beating calming his racing heart.

You groan and rub your eyes, slowly getting up into a sitting position.

Your hair falls away from your neck, allowing him to spot the scars he’d already noticed but hadn’t dared to ask about.

“Touya-kun?” You ask confused.

“I found you lying on the floor.”

“Oh… Sorry, we got requests for peony and it took me a bit more power than I realized. I fall asleep when I overuse my quirk.”

“I didn’t know that. I… A friend of mine wanted some recommendations for plants but I can ask him to come back later if you’re not feeling up for it.”

“Oh, no, no worries. I’ll be out in a minute.”

He realizes belatedly that he’s still kneeling beside you and gets up, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I’ll start the coffee maker for you.”

“Thank you, Touya-kun.” You tell him softly and he all but flees from the room.

taglist: @misfit-megumi @shoulmate

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #passing peonies #touya todoroki #dabi #touya x reader #dabi x reader #happy todoroki #soft touya #soft Dabi #Touya fluff #Dabi fluff #Todoroki family #Angst to happy end

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cialovesklopp · 1 year

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ➺ k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — hiding from paparazzis by dyeing your hair and visiting your boyfriend’s match as well as meeting his found family is always fun

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 9.1k

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — king of my heart [taylor swift], bébé [dadju]

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — this chapter contains misogyny, sexual harassment, verbal abuse, cheating, mental health issues, toxic relationship, gaslighting, physical abuse (don’t really sure if it really counts as that but i think it does)

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — for anyone experiencing anything similar than what amara did, no matter how bad it is, i always have an ear free and there are several organizations that help people in situations like this. just remember that you’re not alone in this 🫶🏾

i also apologize for the timeline but beginner’s mistake: i forgot to install a timeline so some time marks shouldn’t make sense, just ignore it ☺️ and the ending feels a bit rushed because i was scared of it becoming too long

taglist: @lorarri @locedes @aechii

masterlist

𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

she was tired of waiting. sitting on the couch, her phone in her hand while the other was busy nervously tapping on the white furniture, another yawn escaped her lips.

the dim yellow light shone on her, highlighting the eye rings underneath her eyelids. that certainly did not help keeping her awake when even her mirror reflection was screaming fatigue. yet she stayed awake.

even if she wanted to go to bed, she knew her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. she would be destined for another sleepless night, spend with her rolling and turning around in her bed. why couldn’t he just send her a message, small text that he was fine?

she was used to him not answering her calls sometimes or ignoring her on purpose. but evan had never left her that long without a sign of life. and that definitely worried her. especially because she didn’t want to fight with him.

another attempt to reach him failed as she was sent again straight to voicemail, the lump in her throat only getting bigger. she leaned back, her head making contact with the soft pillow as she let out another sigh. she didn’t even remark her eyelids closing or her hand letting go of the phone in her hand as she fell asleep. exhausting had taken her over.

although she didn’t sleep long. the turning of the doorknob and a person stumbling in instantly woke her up from her light sleep. her view was still a bit foggy as she blinked rapidly to get a clear view on the scene in front of her.

a quick glance at her phone told her it was one o’clock, reminding her that she had spent four hours waiting for her boyfriend to come home. four hours without any sign of life.

finally accustoming to the light, she was met with the view of her boyfriend, completely drunk, as he grabbed the commode next to him for stability. the long midi dress hung on her heavily as she stood up, walking towards him.

“where were you?” she demanded, anger mixing his worry as she took in the sight of him. “i was worried, you didn’t call. not even a little text so i know you’re alive. who knows maybe you were hit by a car or something. one life sign was all i needed from you!”

“just leave me alone amara,” he drunkenly slurred, slapping her hand away from his chest. “we were at a party. you know how john can be sometimes, he was in a mood to party.”

“and you couldn’t be bothered to tell me that? instead i had to sit here and wait because my mind was so worried about you. don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

“i’m sorry, just let it go.” he muttered, trying to move past her but amara was adamant on not letting him leave till they finished this conversation. especially because it was occurring so often those last few weeks. why was he so determined to go to bed though? why was he in such a hurry to get to the bedroom?

as he tried to move past her, amara felt her heart sink at the sight of his untucked shirt. she felt it break when the lingering scent of perfume she didn’t recognize made it to her nose and knew it belonged to a woman. but what shattered her heart into pieces, where she thought she’d never be able to glue them together was the significance of her realization. what it truly meant.

“you slept with someone again, didn’t you?” she asked him quietly, trying to maintain her composure.

the way he avoided her gaze was enough of an answer for her. she didn’t need to know more. no words could describe the disgust she felt when she met his eyes full of guilt.

“it wasn’t supposed to happen. i just had a lot to drink and john was telling us to let loose so i did, but i swear i didn’t mean to end up with her —.” he stammered, his voice slightly faltering.

“in bed?” amara inquired sarcastically, a pit of burning anger building up in her stomach. “no, instead you probably fucked her in the bathroom.” she retorted, swallowing heavily. “you promised to me! i can’t believe you would humiliate me like this again!”

she truly wanted to believe he could change. that his casanova days were over but she was met way too often with disappointment. and even though she could see the weight of his actions in his eyes, it had happened too often for amara to believe that his emotions were truly real. “i didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, his voice low.

“you promised the last time that you wouldn’t cheat on me again. you said it was the last time.” she cried out, not able to hold her anger back any longer. “they think i’m stupid because of you. because of the way you painted me — that i’m the stupid girlfriend who is too weak to leave her cheating boyfriend. you made me… made me look like some dumb bimbo. again.” she yelled at him, her voice quivered with pain and trauma. “i can’t believe you would hurt me like this again.”

there was a heavy silence as amara brushed her tears away. “i’m leaving,” she said quietly, blinking away her tears. “i can’t do this anymore. i forgave each time, i accepted your promises, believed in them but this is not continuing. i’ll be leaving in the morning. i just… can’t do this anymore. i gave you so many chances and my heart can’t anymore.”

she tried to move past him, brush him off as she was about to walk past him but something held her up, more specifically evan grabbing her hand violently.

“evan stop it and let go of me.” she demanded swiftly, “you’re hurting me.”

“then start listening to me,” he replied to her, only tightening the grip on her hand. “i said i’m sorry about cheating. you’re just overreacting and playing miss diva again.

“i’m not overreacting evan. i waited the entire day, i called, i texted and you couldn’t even give me one sign of life. instead i find out you cheated on me and god knows how many times you have done that already. and everytime i forgave you but i can’t anymore. i don’t wanna be that stupid girlfriend anymore. all i ever needed was your support, not your constant humiliation.” amara croaked, her voice full of emotion.

he didn’t let go of her wrist but he didn’t apply more force to it either. and as amara looked into his eyes, she was surprised by how much she couldn’t recognize him.

“i only cheated because you made me, gave me no other choice,” he said dismissively, staring her into the eyes. “i love you so much and all you do is push me away. always so distant and putting your career over me. i never cheated because i don’t love you but because i’m desperate.”

her heart was beating quickly as she listened to him. she wasn’t sure what she was hearing. how could he possibly justify his actions by blaming her? the accusations left her feeling defenseless, tears of frustration welling in her eyes.

“i loved you and you knew that. don’t you dare pin this on me. i can’t anymore. all this disloyalty is too much for me.”

she hoped he would let her go now but he had other plans. though amara wasn’t sure whether he would even remember this conversation the next morning with the amount of alcohol he probably must have drunk. but he didn't back down; instead, he continued to pile on the guilt, especially because he just knew what to say. "you pushed me away," he insisted, his tone accusatory. "i was just looking for someone who would appreciate me because you never gave me your time. maybe if you had spent more time with me, i wouldn’t have cheated on you all those times.”

this must be a dream or at least she wished it was. how could he blame her for his mistakes when all she ever did was love him. be loyal to him. had she truly failed him that much?

“no one will take your side if you leave me,” he muttered, his voice making amara shiver. “i’m the reason they know you. who knows amara imani? but they know evan henderson. so who do you think they will believe?” he asked her, his free hand brushing over her cheek. “the white man who has been in the society his whole life long or his black little slut who’s just a bland copy of Beyoncé and Taylor swift? why do you wanna make it so hard for you? you have everything you need with me, love, money, success.”

“i love you and i know you love me too. why do you want to destroy this?” he whispered, playing even more into his manipulation. he knew all her weaknesses, how to manipulate and gaslight her and he seemed pretty satisfied with him when it seemed to work on her. all he needed was just a bit of self-doubt to win her back. and he had always known the right words. “i promise you, this will never happen again.” he let go of her wrist and even though it wasn’t very recognizable on her skin, it was clear that there would be a bruise. he lifted her hand, pressing soft kisses onto the bruised skin, his thumb brushing gently over it. “i didn’t meant for this to happen. you know that right? it was a stupid mistake.”

she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, nodding as she tried to keep her tears down. it was a mistake, she repeatedly told herself, trying to calm herself down. he didn’t mean to.

it wasn’t the first time he had hurt her but he had been doing so good since the last time. it hadn’t been long enough ago for her to forget it but enough time had passed for her to put herself together. it should have been a sign for her, a sign to leave when her mind was glad, it wasn’t as bad as the last time. that this time it had just been her wrist. and in addition, she loved him.

“we can fix this, put ourselves together again.” he continued to whisper, his hand looking to intertwine with amara’s. “i’m all you need. just me. and you don’t want to lose me, do you? we can work through this, you and me.”

looking at him incredulously, she pulled her hand back and walked quickly past him, brushing his shoulder in the process. her feet had a mind of her own as they brought her to the guest room, amara knowing that she couldn’t sleep in the same bed next to him. even breathing became hard when they were in the same room. how was she supposed to stay here? it was a mistake, she continued to tell herself as she climbed into bed, the pillow getting wet due to her tears that were rolling unstoppable. he won’t do it again.

she searched for solitude, hiding in the guest room though she wasn’t alone for long. her eyes closed instantly as she heard evan’s footsteps approaching the door to the guest room. she couldn’t talk to him anymore, she wouldn’t make it. she turned around, her body facing the wall as she tried to act as if she was sleeping. she would confront evan tomorrow, if he even remembered what had happened tonight.

her body tensed as he let himself fall into the bed, joining her.

“i told you i was sorry,” he slurred drunkenly. “amara please.” he begged again, his words clearer now. his hand brushed down her cheek and amara begged he wouldn’t remark the wet surface of her face or her tears that were still rolling down. “you know that wasn’t me. you just provoked me and i snapped but i promise this was the last time.”

“please just leave evan. you probably won’t even remember this tomorrow.” amara murmured tiredly. “we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

but instead of leaving and going to bed, he started to press sloppy kisses on her neck, moving up and down.

“evan go,” amara demanded, trying to push the male away but he wouldn’t budge. instead his hand travelled down further her body, stopping just above her thigh. “please stop. i’m not in the mood.”

“i just wanna apologize,” he muttered into her hair, his kissing moving up to her cheek. she struggled to push him off of her, disgust in her eyes as she felt the budge in his pants growing bigger.

when his hand was about to slip under her sweatpants, amara saw red, taking every of her strength and willpower to push him off of her. “i said stop evan. leave now.” she demanded him angrily.

his eyes grew dark again, amara watching as his expression grew cold. “this is exactly the reason why i cheated on you. you always push me off.” he yelled at her, ignoring the way her body flinched. “why won’t you sleep with me anymore?”

“all i want is to apologize to my girlfriend and she won’t even let me touch her.” he began, purposely hoping on making amara feel bad. “i know i messed up and i’m really trying my best but you have to let me.”

he leaned close to her. “i love you. you know that right?” he asked her softly, amara nodding. she truly loved him. as naive as she was, she of course believed every word he said, falling down into his trap again. “and you don’t want to lose me, do you?” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath making contact with her skin. he started pressing kisses down her neck again as she spoke words into her mind, knowing exactly just how to manipulate her. and nearly everytime it seemed to work.

“… you’re my girlfriend. you’re supposed to make me feel good. and then i’ll never have to look somewhere else again. because you’re all i’ll ever need.” he told her sweetly, a sort of guilt rushing through her heart.

so when he started to slip his hand under her sweatpants again, she just let it happen. he was all she had.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

amara.imani posted for close friends only

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by k.mbappe, liyah_clark and 121 others

amara.imani went red for the day, those paps are never gonna catch me 💋

view all 56 comments

liyah_clark slayyyy bestie

k.mbappe that meme 💀

amara.imani i was tempted to use one of you and a turtle but i decided against it

k.mbappe and i thought you were nice. I’m keeping your tacos now

amara.imani i’m sorry. please bring me tacos

graceywood take care of you and please come back home in one piece

amara.imani yes mama

iamcardib you go girl, those paps will never see it coming

kyliejenner omg i love the red on you, i might dye mine too

amara.imani you def should, king kylie era returning?

justineskye how could you dye your hair without me? where was my invite?

hudson_music does that mean i get the day free since you’re not here?

amara.imani sure, just don’t get too drunk. i’m at the studio tomorrow

charles_leclerc wearing the right color. have i actually managed to make you a tifosi?

amara.imani a proud teamlh supporter till i die, try to convince liyah

charles_leclerc i asked her and she told me if i ever tried to make her switch on lewis again, she’d dump me

amara.imani the only right response

liyah_clark i just said that i support you and only you but i will never become a tifosi, sorry babe

liyah_clark but you could always change to merc if you want to see me so badly in your colors

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

730 days had passed since that accident. 730 days ago she had made the worst decision of her life by staying with him. giving him the knowledge that she believed everything he said. two years had passed since she had allowed evan to take her sparkle away.

at first, amara didn’t even know why she thought of that memory today. it had been months that she hadn’t thought back of evan and their toxic relationship. and then she had thrown a glance at her phone and knew the reason why. it had happened on this date, two years ago. two years ago, he had managed to take a part away from her.

no one truly knows how hard it is to get out of a toxic relationship till they are caught in one themselves. outsiders will say, ‘just leave,’ not knowing how hard that can be. because no one truly knows how to escape that situation.

books with instructions to that don’t exist. so how is one supposed to know what to do? no one tells you what to do when your boyfriend lays his hand on you for the first time. the rational side of your brain will tell you to leave but do you listen? of course not. instead you try to justify the action because you’re telling yourself, why else would he lay his hand on you unless you had done something wrong?

and that’s the way the circle begins. he won’t lay his hand on you but small gestures are enough to know that he was close to hurting you again. grabbing your wrist a bit too tight, his fist almost making contact with your skin… soon you’ll find yourself happy that it was only your wrist that suffered under his anger.

no one tells you what to do when you don’t know how to leave him. you expect friends to notice your changed behavior but they’re all too busy, profiting from your misery. encouraging you to stay in that toxic relationship because it was good for them. they don’t care about the abuse you receive, whether it’s physical or mental. and the friends you know would have probably helped you, they are already gone because you pushed them away. so now you find yourself alone in an abusive and toxic relationship with nowhere to go and no escape system.

of course, the abuse is always equated with some good or else leaving would be too easy, wouldn’t it? for every mean word, a bouquet of flowers. for every wrist held too tight, a nice diamond necklace would find itself in front of you along with a smile, a smile promising that it would never happen again and yet both know that it was a lie. but still, your brain starts to forget the bad side. and whenever you find yourself close to leaving, your brain will ask you “why are you leaving when it’s good at the moment. he didn’t mean to. he loves you”.

amara had quickly realized how easy it was for an outsider to judge an abusive marriage, relationship, friendship. but they didn’t know the work that hid behind it. the exhaustion and manipulation. the betrayal of trust your brain won’t want to admit. it was a whole cycle and finding a loophole in it took more strength than one would ever admit.

as humiliated and betrayed as she had felt in that moment, amara was glad he had left her. had cheated on her publicly. it had given her the loophole she had been looking for the entire time. and it had come at a good moment too, one where he wouldn’t be able to manipulate her into staying like he had done so many time. but she still preferred to never talk about that period of her life again. it was over.

today she would be focusing on kylian the entire day. the reason she was even here. if someone had told her one year ago that she would be standing here, excited to watch a psg match, she would have called the psychiatry to inform them that they were most likely missing a patient. and yet here she was, ready to cheer on her boyfriend. her excitement was palpable as she sat in the vip lounge, eager to witness him playing in action on the field.

she had been so keen on finally watching him play live that she had even dyed her hair red and donned a stylish pair of sunglasses to not be recognized by any cameras or paparazzis that were present. even though the two were clear where they stood with each other, they did not want to share their bliss with the press yet, preferring to just live in their own bubble before any articles caught up to them.

the stadium buzzed with an electrifying atmosphere, fans donning their team's colors and waving flags with passionate fervor as screams were heard from everywhere, overtoning the commentator of the match. kylian had not exaggerated when he had told her that playing at home was always another vibe. the energy was contagious and amara found herself close to singing with the commentators but she refrained herself from doing so, not wanting to stand out. she was also impressed by the dedication of the supporters who poured their entire heart and souls into cheering for their beloved team, some even making huge trips just to come support their team. needless to say, this would not be her last match.

sure, maybe paris didn’t have as much of an history as liverpool had, and maybe they didn’t have their own fan song that had carried through the history of their club but they had supporters amara guessed. and she loved the atmosphere here.

lost in her phone, checking messages and replying to some instagram messages, amara only looked up again when the crowd erupted into a thunderous roar, announcing the arrival of the players who came walking out from the tunnel. her eyes were fixed on him though.

despite thousands of fans around her, yelling and chanting his names she managed to drown out the noise around her as her eyes searched his. the way he looked at his fans, standing majestically on the ground and the way he held himself, so confident and mesmerizing — she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of pride knowing that she was there to support him.

even though he wouldn’t recognize her, amara drew kylian a discreet air kiss from stands, her way of wishing him good luck which he acknowledged with his typical smirk. it was her secret way of letting him know she was there, supporting him wholeheartedly. she felt connected to him in another way today. last time he was in her world and this time she was a visitor in his.

watching the match, amara couldn’t contain herself from yelling along the fans for every foal or occasion the blue players had, her heart pounding with each near missed chance for a goal. she cheered with unrestrained joy when kylian opened the score with a beautiful volley that landed immediately in the net, the goalkeeper having no chance. and even though she facepalmed seeing his new celebration, her grin grew wider as she watched him draw a heart with his fingers and then fire an arrow in her direction. of course the crowd went wild, looking around frantically to find the person he had just dedicated a goal to.

the crowd calmed down again when the whistle blew, indicating the break and amara was able to get away from all the screams for a quick pause. as much as she enjoyed the game, it had been a long time that she hadn’t been out again in public and even less to a big event like this. but she couldn’t have known that the second half contained just as much surprises as the first one.

sitting down again, this time armed with a bottle of coke, she watched with excitement the second part of the game, hoping for it to be just as thrilling as the first one— even more, she was hoping for another goal of him. and amara was not disappointed. fifteen minutes into the second half, the ball found kylian again who put it again into the net, dribbling his way into the surface for a quick finish. she braced herself again for another of his ridiculous celebrations, surprised when all he did was just lift his shirt so the public could read what was written on it. and upon reading it, amara was glad she had finished her drink a long time ago because the french striker had written boldly across his shirt: told you so. and she knew it was directed at her. she wanted to hide behind one of the chairs, smiling hardly but she was also painfully aware that if she acted different now, everyone would know it was for her and she wouldn’t dare to imagine how that could turn out for her.

as the final whistle blew, amara felt happy and kind of sad. for the two hours that she had been here, she had been able to drown out everything. forget about her problems because here they didn’t matter. she clapped happily as the crowd began to disperse, knowing her day was long from being over. she waited a few minutes before standing up, thanking the security men for escorting her to the changing rooms. of course only after showing him her badge that kylian had gotten her for vips.

she grew a bit self-conscious as she received several weird stares while walking towards the players changing rooms but she tried to ignore them all, focusing instead on kylian’s amazing match and all the things she’d tell him.

amara hesitated at first, unsure whether she should enter immediately as her worries took over her thoughts but she was able to block them out quickly. with all her confidence, she strutted over to the door, knocking three times before opening it and entering. taking a few steps, she was instantly met with kylian, currently changing as he took off his jersey.

“hey superstar. how does it feel to be mvp?” she teased, flashing him a playful grin as she made her way towards him.

he turned towards her with a cheeky smile, amara’s eyes not leaving his defined abs. his arms immediately engulfed her as he pulled her in for a hug, savoring the scent of cherry and vanilla that was immediately picked up by his nose. “amara? i can’t believe you actually came. and your hair? why did you dye it red?”

she laughed, throwing her head back in joy and twirled one of her extensions. “i promised you i’d be there, didn’t i? and as for my hair, told you those paps aren’t gonna catch me.” she replied sassily.

he chuckled playfully, shaking his head at her sass. “so, what did you think of the match? don’t even try to lie, i know you enjoyed it. especially my two goals,” he smirked. “comment t'as trouvé mes célébrations? kinda cool, don’t you think?” — what did you think of my celebrations?

she rolled her eyes, matching his sarcasm. “i loved them,” she retorted. “you just had to do it, didn’t you? because of you, gracey will scold me tomorrow since your new celebration,” she trailed off, looking at him pointedly, “will attire a lot of media attention. especially that second one.”

he shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "didn’t you say that any publicity is good publicity? besides they’ll probably forget it in a week.”

she laughed again, knowing he had a point but that still didn’t make her any less annoyed. “fine but don’t say i didn’t want you when the paps start camping in front of your apartment.”

“i already spend more time at yours than at my own so it’s fine.” he replied sarcastically. “that way, you won’t steal any secret tactics.”

she faked a dramatic expression, putting a hand on her chest. “oh my gosh, you discovered my plan. the only reason i actually dated you was to steal all the secret tactics and sell them to the highest bidder. but then again, your tactics aren’t really worth much.” she joked, shrieking when kylian attacked her hips, tickling her there.

“i dare you to say that again,” he demanded jokingly, resting his hands lastly around her waist, pulling her closer. “we talked about this amara.”

“i know, i know.” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “we don’t compare psg with liverpool. i know that. now come here,” she said, purposely annoying him before pulling him in for a kiss.

they were immediately caught in a passionate kiss as amara wrapped her hands around his neck. every kiss still felt like their first one, fireworks still exploding in her stomach whenever their lips met.

“you were great,” amara whispered against his lips, smiling as she leaned in to connect them again. though they never made it since the door suddenly opened and the couple was caught like a deer in headlights when the rest of his teammates came in. there was a moment of silence before one of his teammates (amara didn’t know who) started to yell.

“MAIS LE GARS, C’EST KYLIAN AVEC UNE MEUF!” on of them yelled and amara stared down, luckily not blushing. — guys, it’s kylian with a girl

“and she actually seems nice. remember when he dated chloe, that stuck-up bitch.” another one commented, his teammates agreeing.

“eh, je suis toujours la.” kylian retorted annoyingly. — hey, i’m still here

“COME ON KYLIAN, PRESENT HER TO US!” several of his teammates screamed, some even jumping up and down which made amara smile. it warmed her heart to see how thrilled they were to meet her.

“le gars, this is amara imani, the singer, you—“ he began but amara cut him off immediately, rolling her eyes.

she arched an eyebrow, looking at him incredulously. “bro, they didn’t ask you for a cv of me.” she cut him off sassily before looking at the boys who were watching them confusingly. “i’m his girlfriend.”

“what?” all of them exclaimed which made kylian smirk, probably boosting his ego.

neymar (amara immediately recognized him because of liyah’s huge footballer crush phase) was the first to grin widely and to approach her. “hah, i already knew. i was the first person he told,” he bragged. “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. eu sou um grande fã de sua música.” — i’m a big fan of your music.

“obrigado. i’m a big fan of your skills too.” she replied, her accent standing out as she replied to him in portuguese.

“you speak portuguese?” another of his teammates asked (amara hating herself for her short memory because she was sure she had seen him play today).

she nodded, smiling shyly. “i speak several languages. next to english and french, i also speak spanish, igbo and a bit portuguese but mine is a bit rusty.”

“that’s still more than his last girlfriend.” another one hollered. “sergio ramos, delighted to meet you. it’s a good thing you speak spanish, now we can bitch about kylian behind his back whenever we want.”

a mischievous grin appeared on her face while this time, kylian rolled his eyes. “you do know i speak spanish fluently right?” he asked them but they both waved dismissively.

the next one to present himself was marco and even he had some difficulties, believing that kylian had actually gotten the girl. “it’s kinda weird having you standing right here. who would’ve thought kylian’s game was that good? never in thousand years i’d have believed that. also my wife is a big fan of yours. even dragged me to one of your concerts.”

she just laughed, sending kylian a playful wink before turning her attention back to marco.

one by one they introduced themselves, some not able to contain their excitement due to them being big fans while others had difficulties with believing that had actually managed to get himself a girlfriend who was none other than amara. and since this were incredible news, presnel (as amara had learned) couldn’t keep himself from facetiming the whole french national team just to keep them up with the happenings. it didn’t ring long before several faces started to pop up on the screen of presnel’s phone.

“MES FRÈRES, NOTRE BÉBÉ A ENFIN UNE COPINE!” presnel announced excitingly, waking everybody’s interest and capturing their attention. — my brothers, our baby finally has a girlfriend

“ATTEND, KYLIAN A KEN AVEC UNE MEUF?” antoine retorted confusingly, probably speaking out loud what the other members of the french team were thinking. instead of answering, presnel just shoved the phone in amara’s face who smiled awkwardly. “EH, MAIS C’EST AMARA IMANI.” — wait, kylian bagged someone?

— eh, but that’s amara imani

there was a shockwave growing through the participants of the call, all too stunned to speak.

“where is amara? i wanna see her too,” a little voice said in the background and a girl showed up next to antoine which amara assumed was his daughter. she waved shyly at the screen, causing even more chaos.

"KYKY SORT AVEC AMARA IMANI! Comment il a réussi avec sa grosse tête de tortue?” paul exclaimed amusingly as amara laughed too, nearly choking. — kylian is going out with amara imani! how did he manage that with his big head of a turtle?

“QUI S'INTÉRESSE QUELLE TÊTE IL A? IL A PÉCHO AMARA IMANI!” ousmane disregarded his friend’s comment quickly and looked at amara who had taken pleasure in watching the team react to the news. “can i have tickets for your next tour? the last one was sold out way too quick before i even had a chance." — who cares what head he has? he pulled amara imani!

“kylian, if you don't bring her to the next team event, don't even bother showing up.” aurelien threatened jokingly.

amara nudged him slightly to catch his attention. “your friends are funny. i didn’t know they were such big fans of me.”

he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “i told you, they were going to love you.”

“AMARA, JE T’AIME. JE T’AI TOUJOURS SUPPORTER, MÈME QUAND TON EX DE MERDE RACONTAIS DE CONNERIES SUR TOI!” jules then yelled over the phone making amara’s heart even warmer. — amara, i love you. i’ve always supported you even when that shitty ex was saying bullshit about you.

“je suis tellement ravie de faire connaissance avec vous et ça me tient à cœur que vous êtes de si gros supporter.” amara told them happily, genuinely touched by their warm welcome. — it’s been a pleasure getting to meet you and I’m touched that you’re such big fans of me.

kylian, who had finished changing and had finally dressed up, placed himself next to amara, his hand instantly wrapping around her waist. he placed a few soft kisses on her neck which sent tickles down her entire spine.

“stop that,” she muttered under her breath, smiling as she tried to hold kylian’s head away from her neck though that turned out to be very complicated as he had his arms wrapped around her waist.

“fine,” he replied, his lips pressed to a pout. taking a bit pity on him, she turned his head, pressing a soft peck on his lips.

“heh, il y’a des enfants ici.” yelled presnel and neymar amusingly put his hands over marco’s eyes while the couple separated quickly making everybody present laugh. — hey, there are children there

“j’ai toujours cru que le vrai amour de kylian, c’est le foot honnêtement.” paul revealed jokingly. “c’était la seule chose qu’il faisait.” — i always thought football was kylian’s true love — it’s the only thing he ever talked about

“bah apparemment, tout ce qu’il faut faire c’est ressemble à un ninja turtle pour draguer des meufs célèbre.” jules replied in the same tone as paul and amara wasn’t able to retain her giggle watching kylian’s face scrunch up. — apparently all you need for famous girls to come after you is to resemble a ninja turtle

“vous êtes chiante,” the french international striker pouted again, wanting to hide his face in amara’s neck again but she pushed him off. — you’re all pain in the asses

the entire team erupted in laughter, taking joy in watching his demise and him being all embarrassed. but of course they all meant it well. and amara understood quickly that they were a bunch of adults with the mindset of children, wondering truly how their coach was able to keep up with them.

“soo… how long have you two been dating?” aurelien asked them curiously, amara and kylian exchanging some looks.

“we’ve known each other for about seven to eight months but we started seeing each other a month and a half ago and have been officially dating for two weeks.” replied amara.

“si ça dépendait de moi, on devrait sortir ensemble pour sept mois maintenant.” kylian threw in jokingly. — if it were up to me we’d be dating for seven months now

“donc tu la fais attendre un peu?” presnel inquired, mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes as amara nodded proudly. “ça va le gars, il est complètement parti. un vrai simp.” — so you made him wait for a while? — guys, it’s official. he’s completely gone, a true simp

“wesh, ta gueule,” kylian retorted sassily, blushing slightly. — shut up

“est-ce que kylian t’embêtes de fois avec tout son bavardage de foot?” jules asked next. — does kylian annoy you sometimes with his constant talk about football

amara nodded swiftly, a loud sigh following. “yes he does. il y a des fois où je suis fatiguée et je veux seulement rentrer me coucher mais monsieur a décidé de mettre un match. et il commente toujours à côté.” amara complained. “but i love that about him.” — there are times where I’m just tired and all i want to do is sleep but mister here decided to put on match. and he always comments on it on the side

“you can never stay mad at me,” kylian whispered seductively into her ear and amara hummed, the two losing themselves in their own world again.

“eh, les amoureux on a pas encore fini.” presnel reminded them loudly. — hey lovebirds, we haven’t finished yet.

“j'espère que tu lui a appris quelques pas de danse parce que ton copain est tellement nul en danse…” paul trailed off making amara laugh. — i hope you taught some dance moves because your boyfriend is so bad at dancing…

kind of embarrassed, she admitted shyly. “ce même lui qui m’a appris à danser le slow. donc je peux te rassurer.” — actually, it’s him who taught me how to dance a slow so I can reassure you he definitely got better

“you don’t have to be embarrassed amara. we have tons of embarrassing stories about kylian. like one time” ousmane trailed off, thinking of the best example. his face brightened up immediately. “LE GARS, VOUS VOUS RAPPELER QUAND KYLIAN NOUS A FORCER À ÉCOUTER TOUS SES CHANSONS?” he yelled excitingly. — guys remember when kylian forced us to listen to all her songs

“ah oui, on se réveillait avec ta voix et on s’endormait avec ta voix.” — yes, we always woke up with her voice and fell asleep to her voice

“t’as toujours était son crush célébrité. donc on a rien dit quand il nous forçait à écouter tes chansons.” antoine explained to her and amara looked at kylian who tried to hide his embarrassment. — you’ve always been his celebrity crush. so we never said anything when he forced us to listen to your songs

“hey, don’t be shy. i find it adorable that you had a crush on me.” she replied sweetly. “that’ll be great leverage in the future.”

they started wooing, leaving some teasing side marks that guaranteedly boosted his ego. as if it needed any more growing.

“well, i have a question.” said antoine, already looking forward to teasing his teammate. “est-ce que kylian a aussi d’endurance au lit qu’au terrain?” — does kylian have as much stamina in bed as on the field?

nearly choking on his saliva, amara patted kylian’s back hard and reached for his water bottle so he could calm down.

“how do you answer that question?” amara inquired slowly.

“bah, nous on veut savoir comment est il est au lit. est-ce qu’il se vente des ses talents comme il l’aime faire souvent ou c’est vrai?” ousmane inquired. — well we want to know how he is in bed. does he exaggerate about his talents like he often does or is it true?

“i…” she looked at her boyfriend for some help but he just smirked, pointing at the screen where his friends / teammates were all looking for an answer. “oh my god, i don’t know how to answer that.”

“it’s a simple yes or no question.”

she sighed, glaring at kylian for leaving her in this situation before answering, “well, we’re fine off the pitch. ça ne manque de riens.” — we’re not missing anything

“eh mais attends. donc c’était toi qui lui a sucée le cou quand il est arrivé à l'entraînement avec un grand suçon?” presnel exclaimed shockingly. — wait a minute, so it was you who sucked his neck when he arrived at training with that huge hickey?

she shrugged dismissively. “je viens de dire que rien nous manque au lit.” she retorted sassily, sending them a playful wink that made his teammates yell again while kylian pulled her closer to him. — i just told you, we’re not missing anything

“kylian t’a intérêt à ne pas la perdre.” antoine threatened him lightly. — kylian, you better not lose her

“don’t worry, i don’t plan on doing so.”

it was loud and crowded in the club. even though neymar had rented the vip space for them, they were still able to feel the excitement and atmosphere of the crowd downstairs. the music was good though and amara found herself enjoying the mix the dj had put on as she watched the people dance.

the initial thought had actually been to go home but the team decided to go out and celebrate together after such a hard-fought victory where they had played beautifully for the first time in a long time. after the call amara had wanted to go home but when the team had invited her to tag alone to celebrate their victory and also get to know the others (such as the wags) she had accepted immediately, wanting to be integrated as quickly as possible.

they had gone home quickly to change before joining the squad outside of some fancy parisian club that they had apparently frequented very often and were fond of. amara had traded the red-blue jersey kylian had gifted her for a simple gray silk dress that sparkled in the light with every step that she took. how they had managed to escape the paparazzis, she’d never know. but she looked pretty so actually she wouldn’t mind being photographed right now.

kylian had immediately complimented her when she had come out of her bedroom, sporting the gray dress with her red hair tied up in a high ponytail. he was in awe of how she let the most simplistic things look beautiful, even when she put minimal effort into it. the entire night his eyes had not left her even when he was talking to one of his friends, his eyes had not left his girlfriend which amused his friends greatly.

he was also very happy of how well she got along with the other girlfriends and wives. he knew her friendship circle wasn’t very big and the only real friends she actually had were liyah and grace (where she always assured him that they were enough) but yet she was willing to put herself out there and make new contacts. perhaps he hadn’t given her enough credit when she had announced to him that she was coming back.

with the excuse of wanting to get himself another drink he was able to leave the conversation and rejoin his girlfriend that was waiting at the bar for her own drink. he surprised her from behind, putting his hands around her neck which startled amara at first but she relaxed quickly once seeing that it was kylian.

“t’es tellement belle,” kylian whispered in her ear, intertwining their fingers and amara leaned into his body. “i hope you’re having fun.” — you’re so beautiful

she nodded, taking a sip from her drink that had just arrived. “merci mon cœur.” she replied softly. “and i am having fun. jessica and sarah are sooo nice.” she replied, pointing to the two women who sat a bit away from the dance floor and were talking. “we have even planned some shopping dates already.”

“that’s amazing ma belle.”

the two stayed in their own bubble for a while, the comfort of the other being enough. amara had never truly realized how safe kylian made her feel especially when they were somewhere that was out of her comfort zone. he made sure she felt welcomed, safe. he didn’t abandon her like she was used to when she was dating evan and hung out with some influencer barbies.

talking with his teammates had also shown her what kind of supporting system kylian had, which she found was a privilege. talking from experience, she knew exactly how hard it could be when you were left all alone without any kind of support and how hard it would be in some difficult situations. and the french national team had immediately accepted her, welcomed her the moment she had introduced herself as kylian’s girlfriend.

truthfully, that she was someone’s girlfriend again felt a bit weird to her in the beginning. after finally learning to be alone, she was again someone’s girl. but this time she had said because she wanted to and not because someone had coerced her into accepting. and the way kylian had asked her whether she wanted to take another step. so calm, patient and genuine — she’d have been a fool to say no.

“do you get flashbacks?” she asked him, her eyes traveling across the club. “from the first time we met?”

“a bit. just that it wasn’t a club and you’re not as drunk as you were that night.” he laughed.

the two seemed inseparable with their bond evident to everyone around them. they didn’t even go back to their friends they had left with the excuse to get a drink. instead they stayed at the bar, laughing and talking while watching the people around them. only when the tones of dadju’s bébé came out from the speakers did the two leave their places to join the dance floor. kylian less willingly but then again he would do anything to see her smile.

as they swayed to the rhythm of the song, the rest of the the group couldn’t help but be marveled by how much in love they actually were.

“look at them,” presnel said to the group, pointing to the couple dancing to the song. “one could think they’ve been dating for a year. there’s no way they’ve been dating for only a month.” he exclaimed, the group watching as kylian muttered something into her ear and amara threw her head back laughing.

“wouldn’t be surprised if kylian got down on his knee right now,” marco added, grinning widely, “just watching them is enough to make someone sick. they’re acting like a couple on their honeymoon.”

“well, she was his celebrity crush,” neymar added, matching marco’s expression. “our boy has game. he’s definitely head over heels for her.”

“and she is for him.” sarah chimed in, taking place next to her husband.

the group watched with fond smiles as the couple danced on the dance floor. they probably didn’t even notice people staring at her, that much they were caught in their own world. they stared into each other's eyes, smiling as they swayed to the music. the song they had originally got up for had finished long ago but the two couldn’t bring themselves to sit down again. except quick drinking pauses (that mostly consisted of amara ordering a drink while kylian announced himself as the dd) their feet were glued to the crowd. and in addition to that,

as the night wore on, the number of drinks amara had downed became higher too. luckily for her, this time she wasn’t an emotional drunk but more like a fun and energetic drunk. she would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy kylian whispering sweet things into her ear the entire night or dancing with her new friends the moment the dj put on some quicker music.

knowing his girlfriend was tired though after some time, he made his way over to her, pulling her closer as he inhaled her scent.

“we should go home now, don’t you think?” kylian muttered softly into her ear. “tu n’arrives même plus à tenir,” he laughed, watching his girlfriend’s drunken state. — you can’t even stand properly anymore

“but my new friends… i haven’t finished dancing with them yet.” she pouted. “sarah was telling me a story.” she slurred him drunkenly.

“je te promets que sarah va venir demain pour te raconter le reste de l’histoire,” he tried to compromise, already bidding goodbye to the group who had immediately understood after seeing amara’s state. and they weren’t the only ones. marco and jessica had also already left, jessica having drunk just as much as marco. — i promise you sarah is coming tomorrow to tell you the rest of the story.

wearing a grumpy expression, she intertwined her hands and followed kylian outside, who had already called his driver. as kylian led amara to the car where his chauffeur was waiting for them he couldn’t help but reminisce about the night they had met for the first time. it felt nostalgic remembering how similar this situation was to how they first met. only difference was that this time, instead of nearly falling asleep, amara was full of energy, happily skipping around as they marched towards the car.

as they settled into the car, amara’s head rested on kylian’s shoulder, her gaze wandering out the window into the city lights that blurred past. his eyes were filled with love, watching her snuggle against him.

“you remember that night?” amara’s voice broke the silence, her words slightly slurred yet laced with fondness. "when you saved me from probably being kidnapped even though i was such a bitch to you. and now we’re here again.”

he nodded, pressing a gentle kiss on her temple. “i had to google myself to prove to you that i didn’t have any bad intentions. and you were so sarcastic that night.”

“well, it’s a good thing that you’re so stubborn,” she replied cheekily. “imagine if you had actually walked away.”

“i probably wouldn’t have been able to do this,” he leaned in and softly pecked her lips.

as they arrived at amara’s place, kylian carefully helped her out of the car, he walked her through the door as her laughter echoed in the night air, not able to stop himself from falling for her all over again. walking through the gate, they continued their playful banter and inside jokes, kylian enjoying her funny drunk-self.

the only moment where silence was present was when the couple found themselves in the elevator, standing face to face. that was also where the alcohol truly kicked in, not only for amara but also for kylian. before they even knew, the couple was making out, and only stopped when the elevator rang, signaling them that they had finally arrived at her apartment.

she stumbled through the room, her words slurred and laughter infectious as she entertained him with drunken anecdotes and witty remarks. while amara told kylian a drunken story about her first time on tour, the french striker helped the singer change into her pajama and carefully tried to do her skincare. (and kylian will forever brag to anyone who’ll hear that he perfectly applied moisturizer and toner.)

it would probably count as one of kylian’s biggest achievements that he managed to not only put a drunken woman to bed but also have her occupied enough that she didn’t recognize that he had left to change himself. he slipped secretly into her bed, getting comfortable next to her as amara cuddled into his chest continuing her rambling about god and the world while kylian found his comfort just listening to her.

all of sudden, a brilliant idea struck her as she listened to kylian’s heartbeat.

“omg kylian i have an idea for a song!” she exclaimed loudly, giggling. “quick, i need paper, please. avant que ça ne quitte ma tête.” — before it slips away from my head

her boyfriend chuckled affectionately, a wide smile plastered across his lips as he stood up to get her some paper. for some people it would seem stupid to listen to a drunk person but she could ask him to do the most dumb thing ever and he'd do it as long as it puts a smile on her face. that was love — sacrificing yourself in the most stupid ways just to see a smile on your partner’s face.

he hurriedly fetched a notepad and pen which she grabbed from him and even though she lacked any other surface to put the paper on, she started scribbling the lyrics on the paper.

“so you’re just going to write a song now.”

“yes.”

“in your state?”

“yep.”

the room filled with a poignant silence as she wrote the lyrics to the song. in the end it turned out to be a process of not only her but also kylian. he gave advice and listened to her while she sang some of the verses to him she was insecure about or when she didn’t find a word that fit enough to describe a feeling. he felt a profound sense of admiration and love for her as he watched her work.

finding comfort in his warmth that his body extended to hers, she looked him deeply into the eyes, staring behind his pupils and into his soul. "well, you know you kind of own my heart. you’re actually the king of my heart."

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by beyoncé, liyah.clark and 32.732.195 others

amara.imani mon amour, je t’aime — my third studio album, i spent hours and hours trying to be the best version of myself to not only give you my most proudest work but also to make myself proud. this album is the result of love, passion and devotion, endless love that i received and that fueled me to write this album. thank you to my fans, who stood by me during the highs and lows — this album is also for you

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liyah.clark YOU OUTDID YOURSELF, it’s so much better than what i could have imagined, i’m crying happy tears 🫶🏾

graceywood this was all you, you put everything into this album and it paid off so much, it’s beautiful and i couldn’t have been prouder to be your agent

beyoncé this album is an entire masterpiece, very happy that i was able to be a part of this

cardi_b girl, you slayed, one of the tops this year

username amara imani really took a pause, came back and dropped a musical masterpiece

username the way this album has me on a chokehold, been listening to it the entire day

username this album is a work of art, a true album, the renaissance of good music after all this shit people bring out today

charles_leclerc congratulations amara (liyah forced the entire grid to listen to it the entire day)

amara.imani thx charles 🤎 (omggg, lewis hamilton listened to my music)

charles_leclerc should i be worried about this obsession you and amara have over lewis?

liyah.clark babe, it’s lewis hamilton, please stay in your lane

username why did this album bring me to tears, like she sounds so in love it made me cry

username she never sang about evan like that, that man must be really special to her

versace the entire versace family congratulated you to the release of your new album, you did amazing — donatella

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amarielebeau · 1 year

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Gambit, Mental Health & Trauma

(Prefacing this with this is my interpretation and analysis of Gambit as a character, past and current events. I've been a fan of roguegambit for over a decade- I love them both so much!!!!!)

Gambit is a character who has canonically experienced a lot of trauma- being abandoned by his parents, growing up on the streets, sold into slavery as a child, his first marriage failing, being exiled from his hometown, etc. (I could honestly go on for days.)

Yet, this is largely ignored by comic writers. In situations where his consent is violated, for example, it's brushed off as a silly haha, and he has no reaction to it whatsoever.

I think the reason his trauma is so unexplored is firstly, because he's a man, and secondly, a lot of these events happened in solo's written by men. Examples of this are Gambit (1999), when he was sold into slavery and Etienne died, as well as the Foxx storyline in X-Men (2004)- both were written by men.

Even in Astonishing X-Men (2017), after the Foxx storyline, Mystique claims -in a throwaway line- to have slept with Gambit presenting as twin sisters. His reaction is, "Wait, what? How?" and that's it. No one else in the group reacts, and it's never acknowledged again.

Personally, if I found out that the mother of my (ex-)partner, who sexually harassed me over an extended period of time in the past, had gone on to violate my consent in such a manner, I would be upset. To say the least.

It's only in more recent years that conversations about men's mental health and consent have begun to happen, so it's not much of a surprise to me (sadly) that events were ignored or brushed over in the past.

The reason for my pointing all of this out is in response to his characterisation in Rogue and Gambit (2023).

Thus far, rather than dealing with his trauma, Gambit has ignored it.

RG23 is the point where everything has caught up with him, and he doesn't know how to cope. I can understand why it might seem like he's suddenly being written as a completely different person- for a very emotionally-driven person, somehow, his trauma has never negatively affected him in the past.

However, to understand RG23, we need to revisit Knights of X (2022)- where Gambit's depression came to the forefront. In issue 1, we see Rogue has left a note stating, "Shug- Working late. Don't wait up - Cher". We see he's unhappy about this, it's not the first time, and it's what leads him to join KOX and travel to the otherworld. He's lonely.

This panel from issue 2 tells us everything we need to know about Gambit's headspace at that point in time. He misses Rogue, he doesn't believe she misses him, and he doesn't believe she loves him anymore.

Gambit has always struck me as the kind of person who desperately wants to be loved, but does not believe he is worth loving. At the beginning of his relationship with Rogue, he wanted her to love him, but he couldn't let himself emotionally invest in her.

This could be attributed to a whole number of things, but I think it all comes down to low self-worth. We know Gambit doesn't think of himself as a good person, which leads to him willfully making bad decisions at times (self-destructive behaviour). We also know that when he loves, he loves with everything he has and more.

After his exile from New Orleans, Gambit chose to abandon Bella Donna instead of bringing her with him. I think, from his perspective, he'd done irrevocable damage to the peace between their families, not to mention killing her brother. He couldn't allow her to sacrifice everything just to be with him, so he left her. Why? Because he didn't believe he deserved her love and dedication.

I'm certain this is a mindset Gambit took to all of his relationships going forward. Flirting, flings, and one night stands are an easy way to feel important for a minute without the risk of someone truly knowing him and deciding he isn't worth their time.

I think this is why it took him so long to admit to Rogue (and himself) that he was in love with her. I think this is also why we've seen him completely give up on communicating with her between KOX and RG23.

If Gambit starts a conversation with Rogue about their relationship, he's opening himself up to rejection. We know from RG23 issue 2's Rogue interview that she would never reject him (from her perspective their marriage is fine), but he doesn't know that. To hear the one person he loves most in the world outright say she doesn't love him anymore... It would break him completely. So, Gambit avoids the conversation.

In KOX issue 3, Gambit essentially killed himself to save his team.

Now, consider his mindset: he's in the Otherworld because he thinks Rogue doesn't love him anymore.

I'm not saying that directly led to him killing himself- as I said, he did so to save his team. However, I think it's safe to say if his mental health was in a better place, he wouldn't have made such a decision, let alone have gone to the Otherworld to begin with.

This page from KOX issue 5 highlights his feelings for Rogue. She's his heart. His reason to live. Compare her statue to all of his:

Rogue's statue is surrounded by light. There's no way anyone could miss seeing it versus his statues, representing multiple versions of himself- all of them are shrouded in darkness, no visible details.

Not only does Gambit not want people to see him, he wants them to look at Rogue. To Gambit, Rogue is the best part of him.

I'm not gonna pretend that's a healthy mindset. If anything, it further emphasises to me his low self-worth.

I want to point out this page for several reasons.

Firstly, it could be said that Gambit didn't want to be saved, and that's why his Death persona manifested to kill his team. He wanted to stay dead.

Secondly, Death is the very very worst part of him, yet he says, "You ain't really changed if you ain't looked in the mirror and seen the worst parts a' yo'self. I am Death, mes amis." He's essentially telling them that this terrible, awful person is who he's always been deep inside. We know this isn't true, but this is what Gambit believes.

Thirdly, as mentioned earlier, when Gambit slips into that belief of "I'm a horrible person", he often makes bad decisions. In RG23 issue 2 (set after KOX), we see him tie an innocent civilian's hand to a gas stove, turn it on and then set it on fire. Gambit knows this is a horrible thing to do, but he's in such a horrible mental state that he doesn't think he's above this behaviour. I will come back to this point.

Gambit asks how anyone new is coming to the Otherworld because the gate between Krakoa and the Otherworld was closed, and Betsy could only take ten of them. To partake on such a dangerous mission, Gambit chose to risk leaving everything behind without knowing if he'd even make it back alive.

In a sense, he abandoned Rogue in a similar way to abandoning Bella Donna. He went somewhere neither of them could reach him. Or supposedly couldn't.

Rogue was first to greet him after his revival. Gambit couldn't believe this because a) he thought he was dead, and b) why would Rogue, who is too busy for him, be the first to see him after his resurrection?

It's easy to think that this moment resolved Gambit's worries that Rogue didn't love him, and that, going forward, their problems were fixed, but as RG23 shows, it didn't. Rogue showing up for him once isn't enough to fix their current issues because the problem lies deeper than Rogue's absence.

At a superficial level, it's easy to blame her for Gambit's mental state, but I believe this depression he's fallen into has been a long time coming. Decades of unprocessed trauma, insecurity and self-destructive behaviour- literally dying and coming back to life, have culminated in the Gambit we see in RG23. To be honest, you have to be in a very very dark place to kill yourself, self-sacrifice or otherwise.

Issue 1 of All New X-Factor (2014) shows Gambit is no stranger to drinking and barfights. The difference is his mindset. We know he can win a fight against multiple people- we've seen that happen many times. So why, in RG23 issue 1, was he suddenly unable to block a punch, let alone hold himself upright?

Because he didn't want to win.

When Rogue arrives to rescue him, we learn multiple things. It's not the first time he's disappeared somewhere without telling her; it's not the first time she's found him so drunk he's incapacitated; it's not the first time she's had to save him from a fight he's not winning.

What this tells me is that Gambit is purposefully putting himself in dangerous situations as a form of self-harm. He doesn't tell Rogue where he's going because he doesn't want her to save him. He drinks to the point he can barely stand to make sure there's no way he can win a fight, and then he starts a fight to get the shit kicked out of him.

It almost seems like, in some sense, he still wants to die, but he can't kill himself. Not while he remains in limbo with Rogue.

It works both ways- if he never asks Rogue how she feels, he never finds out that he's right and that she doesn't love him. He also never finds out he's wrong and that she does love him.

It's important to add here, that Rogue is in a very difficult position.

RG23 issue 1: we can see Gambit actively shutting Rogue out. He calls it a "misunderstanding" and his "business". Despite the fact that they're married, Gambit is basically telling Rogue to stay out of it.

Again, he's shutting her out, making light of such a dangerous situation and then outright ignoring her. In fact, Gambit's completely disregarding her feelings. We can see Rogue is exhausted. It's hard to care about someone who doesn't care about themselves.

And Rogue does care. A lot. Every time Gambit goes missing she goes out to find him, saves him and then brings him home to take care of him.

But she can't help him if he won't let her.

When someone you love hurts themselves, it hurts you too, and Gambit is indirectly hurting Rogue, but he refuses to see that because he's decided that she doesn't care. In his spiral of self-destruction, he's completely shut down communication between them.

Asking for help is never easy to do, and we know he thinks she's too busy for him. He doesn't want to burden her with his issues.

Furthermore, he doesn't want to face his issues and resolve them.

In issue 2 of RG23, after losing their powers, Rogue is freed from the burden of having to consciously control them at all times, and we see them share a moment of physical intimacy.

I find his use of "tête-à-tête" here (French for "a private conversation") ironic because we all know they weren't talking.

Returning to what I said earlier about Gambit and flings- physical intimacy is an easy way to briefly fill the void of what he's missing in emotional intimacy.

I don't believe he suddenly views his relationship with Rogue as something akin to a fling. I think the opposite.

Gambit invests in their relationship physically but not emotionally because to him, that's the safest way he can connect with Rogue right now. Touch is his love language, and when he can't find the words to speak, physical intimacy is the best he can do.

Rogue and Gambit (2018) showed us that, back then, Rogue was the one struggling to communicate her feelings, and Gambit was always very open with her about where he stood, so why the role reversal?

We can see Rogue trying to communicate, but Gambit shuts her down, pushing her away.

By doing this and holding onto the idea that Rogue doesn't love or care about him anymore, Gambit is sub-consciously trying to ruin their relationship.

Given how much he loves Rogue and wants to be with her, this tells me he's still in a very dark headspace.

Going back to the statues being parts of himself he doesn't want anyone to see, as well as becoming Death once more, and finally confessing his core belief- that he can't change, he will always be a terrible person: Gambit's trapped himself in his own insecurity.

If he opens up to Rogue, he risks her seeing him for who he truly believes he is. What comes with that? Rejection.

Here, we see Gambit drinking once again. Rogue also mentions how, on one occasion, he argued with a sommelier over wine. In both issue 1 and 2 Gambit's use of alcohol has been highlighted in a negative light. It's an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Also, it's easy to look at this scene and think Rogue is the one who can't let loose and lighten up, but I think what's actually happening is Gambit is ignoring her feelings, as he did in issue 1. She has a drink and two glasses next to her on the table, so it's not as if they haven't already spent a considerable amount of time having fun there.

When Rogue says they should leave, Gambit's more interested in continuing his escapism- until Black Panther arrives, and he starts another drunken fight he can't win. A pattern has been established.

"He'll save her. He's a hero." is a very telling line that reveals why Gambit did what he did- because he's not a hero, and he knew the woman would be saved.

To reiterate, Gambit believes he is a terrible person who is not above doing terrible things. He does not change: he will always be who he was as Death. The worst of the worst.

By risking an innocent woman's life to save himself (and Rogue), he only furthers this belief.

We see here that Gambit looked back to check if Black Panther did indeed save the woman he endangered. Without looking at Rogue and speaking quietly (evidenced by the smaller writing and bubble), he says to himself, "He saved her." Because Gambit isn't the terrible person he thinks himself to be- he couldn't leave without knowing the woman was safe.

This is how we, the reader, know that Gambit hasn't suddenly changed and become a terrible person. He's struggling with his mental health and sense of identity after a lifetime of trauma.

Honestly, there are so many more traumatic events I could talk about.

There's a long list of people Gambit's lost- as mentioned before, in his 1999 solo, it was shown he was partly responsible for the death of his cousin, Etienne.

In X-Men (1991), we found out that, after a failed heist, Gambit was forced by Sabretooth to pick between saving his brother and saving Genevieve. He chose his brother, and she was killed.

In his 2012 solo, Gambit's love interest, Joelle, killed herself in front of him. In his 2022 solo, he failed to save his love interest, Marissa, and as a result, she became visibly disfigured.

It goes without saying events like the Morlock Massacre would've had a huge impact on his mental health and sense of self-worth too.

If you've read all of the above, you might be wondering why only now are we getting to see the repercussions of all this? Why does all this trauma suddenly matter?

Rogue and Gambit (2018) opened the doorway for exploring their issues as a couple. Mr and Mrs X (2018) gave Rogue an opportunity to revisit her trauma (and finally conquer her powers in the process). Now, I think it's Gambit's turn. At this point, he's surpassed rock bottom, and the only way up is finally confronting these issues.

Will everything I've mentioned here be explored in Rogue and Gambit (2023)? I doubt it. It's very plot-driven and only five issues long.

However, I do think the first step for him is resolving his communication issues with Rogue, which I'm certain will happen in RG23. Afterwards, it wouldn't surprise me if we see him continue to fight his own demons in future issues until he finds his closure.

IN CONCLUSION: I understand the frustration with Gambit's characterisation and why it may seem like he's suddenly become an entirely different person. I don't expect everyone to agree with everything I've said!!

This is my personal interpretation of everything- I'm not trying to blame the current situation entirely on Gambit and act like Rogue can't make a bit more effort.

Their issues are a lot more complicated than simply Rogue not spending enough time with him.

I look forward to seeing this develop further in RG23 :D

tl;dr in my opinion his characterisation so far in Rogue and Gambit (2023) makes sense following the ideas established in Knights of X (2022): Gambit is depressed, has a very low self-esteem, and doesn’t believe Rogue loves him anymore

#i hope this all makes sense my brain turned to mush towards the end #rogue #gambit #analysis #knights of x #rogue and gambit 2023 #remy lebeau #anna marie lebeau #romy #roguegambit

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