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kitkatpancakestack · 3 years

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In which Eddie assumes creative control over Christopher's dorm room.

Read this chapter and the rest of the interior designer!Eddie verse on ao3!

XXI

“Buck, I thought you said you talked to him.”

“I did, Chris.”

“He brought his custom measuring tape. It’s freaking out my roommate.”

Buck winces, eyes drifting to where Eddie is scouting the perimeter of the room, jotting down dimensions in his mini travel binder, muttering under his breath. Andre, Christopher’s roommate, had made the egregious error of mentioning his interest in a loft bed within earshot of Eddie. Said roommate is now huddled in the corner of the room, wide eyes following Eddie as he commandeers the space.

Christopher whacks Buck’s shin lightly with one of his crutches, pinning him with an unimpressed stare. “Buck.”

“What do you want me to do about it, Chris?”

“Something. Anything. Please.”

Buck huffs, pats Christopher’s shoulder, and then approaches his husband.

He clears his throat. “Hey, Ed.”

Eddie has a pencil wedged between his teeth, but he grunts in response as he slides the tape measure up the wall.

“You’re, ah . . . you’re kind of making a scene.”

He presses the button to retract the tape measure, jots down a few notes, tucks the pencil behind his ear, and turns to face Buck. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this isn't HGTV. This is a freshman dorm room.”

“Andre mentioned he wanted a loft. Somebody has to make sure all these puzzle pieces fit together.”

“Right,” he says, slowly, “but maybe this is something Andre and Chris need to talk about together, considering they’ll be the ones living here?”

Eddie purses his lips, brows furrowing, like this doesn’t compute fully in his brain.

“I appreciate the help, Mr. Diaz,” Andre pipes up, wringing his hands. “But, I think I’m gonna ditch the loft idea. Just stick with the bed as is.”

“You sure?” Eddie flips through the binder. “It’ll be a tight fit, but I think it would leave enough room for everything if you wanna go that route.”

“No, I’m sure. Thank you, though.”

Eddie shrugs, and Buck exchanges a relieved glance with Christopher, who sidles up to his father and nudges him with his shoulder.

“We have some orientation stuff soon, Dad. Maybe we can pick this up tomorrow?”

Buck tries to ignore the flash of heartbreak across Eddie’s face, because if he doesn’t, he’ll start thinking about weeks and months on end at home without Christopher to liven up the place, and he’ll completely fall apart. As it is, he steals his face into something passably brave and steps up behind Chris, planting his hands on his shoulders. “We need to check into the hotel anyway, Ed,” he says. “And Chris needs some time to acclimate.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker around the space, his fingers fidgeting with his tape measure. “Fine,” he relents. “We’ll be back tomorrow. Target trip. So put your game face on, okay?”

Buck can’t think about the fact that it's the last Saturday Shopping Extravaganza they’ll all three have together for a while.

It takes another five minutes to usher Eddie out the door, but Buck manages to pry him away from the dorm building and drive them to the hotel. They order Thai food and pick up a six pack of beers and put on a trashy C grade horror movie. There isn’t much conversation. Eddie drops his head on Buck’s shoulder and Buck runs his fingers up and down his arm and it’s a weight, all around them. A privileged weight that Buck gets to feel, a weight that means he has Christopher, that he has all of this, his family, but even love can be heavy sometimes.

They migrate to the bed a little after eleven. Eddie’s laptop is charging on the nightstand, and he has his mini white binder in his lap on top of the duvet. Buck feels the first tiny prick of restlessness against the periphery of his awareness, derived from the knowledge that Christopher isn’t within arm’s reach, isn’t just sleeping down the hall.

He drops his phone against his chest, staring at the ceiling. “It’s weird.”

Eddie hums beside him. “What’s weird?”

“The . . . silence.”

And Buck doesn’t have to explain, because Eddie gets it. They understand each other in the way that partners who love each other fiercely, and who love the same kid even more so, do.

He reaches across the space and tangles his fingers through Eddie’s free hand, the one not scribbling through his notebook. “What are you working on?”

Eddie’s tongue pokes out, runs along his bottom lip. “Gotta make sure his room is perfect. That he’ll have everything he needs.”

“He’ll be alright, Ed. You raised him right.”

At that Eddie smiles, nudging Buck under the blankets with his foot. “I guess you didn’t do too bad a job yourself.”

“You guess.”

“Always room for improvement, you know what I say.”

“Mmhm.” He draws their intertwined hands onto his stomach and sets his phone on the table, switches his light off, and searches for a comfortable position against the pillows. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“I won’t.”

And Buck won’t call him out on it, but he wakes up at least three times during the night, and Eddie is wide awake for each of them, pencil clutched in a death grip, gaze pouring into his binder.

After four hours in Target, they find themselves situated in Christopher’s dorm room. Christopher had, apparently, warned Andre ahead of time, so he’s spending the evening with his parents and handing all creative control over to Christopher, and by extension Eddie.

Buck settles into the desk chair and Christopher pulls himself to sit atop the desk, both of them watching Eddie navigate the space.

“You did warn your roommate that his design choices will be overridden, right?” Buck asks.

Christopher huffs. “It was the second thing out of my mouth. ‘Hi, nice to meet you, my name is Christopher. And just so you know, my Dad is a lunatic and already planned the layout of the room.’ You should have seen the way he looked at me, Buck.”

“Your dad was very proud of himself,” Buck smiles, following Eddie’s sharp, deliberate movements about the space. He finishes setting up what he affectionately dubbed the Cuisine Corner, with a Keurig next to a microwave, both resting on a dark wood crate with the snacks stored inside, and takes a step back to admire his work with his hands on his hips.

The two beds are shoved against opposite walls, and Eddie even bought a comforter to color coordinate with the one Andre had brought with him. The shag rug somehow looks trendy and not tacky. Both desks are ornamented and positioned catty-corner to the beds, leaving enough space for a floor lamp in the gap behind the desk. In the weeks leading up to Christopher’s move, Eddie had imposed a self-seminar on minimalism and the Illusion of Space, and Buck would never admit it outloud, but it had definitely paid off.

Christopher waits until Eddie leaves to retrieve something in the car before saying, “Hey, Buck?”

“Mmhm?”

“I know you will, but . . . just take care of Dad, okay? He’s probably not gonna take this well.”

“I’m not gonna take this well, Superman.”

He rolls his eyes, smiling. “You know what I mean.”

Buck tips over just enough to rest his head against Christopher’s side, and his son’s arm snakes around his shoulders. “Don’t worry about your dad, Chris. I got him handled.”

Buck parks the truck in the driveway at around ten o’clock that night. The both of them just sit there, for a moment, letting the new silence reshape around them. Eddie’s head digs into the seat behind him, eyes shut, hands balled into fists in his lap.

Buck watches his own hands, white-knuckled where they wrap around the steering wheel.

“He has everything he needs, right?” Eddie murmurs, without opening his eyes.

Buck swallows hard. “Yeah, he does.”

“We didn’t forget anything?”

“We didn’t forget anything.”

“Okay. Good. Good.” Another breath, one, two more, and then he turns his head to look at Buck. In a quiet, small voice, he whispers, “I miss him already.”

Buck grabs his hand and kisses his knuckles. “Me, too.”

Eventually they slide out of the truck. Buck slings their shared overnight bag over his shoulder and they march up the walkway to the house. Eddie unlocks the door, and they kick off their shoes, flick on the lights, exist together in a way that feels slightly to the left of normal. Eddie mumbles something about changing into more comfortable clothes, and hunches toward the bedroom. Buck leaves the overnight bag in the foyer and enters the kitchen, trying to think of something quick and painless to put together for dinner.

When he hits the light, he stops in his tracks at the familiar white binder laid open on the counter.

His first thought is that Eddie left it open from one of his many pre-sending-Christopher-to-university spirals, but upon closer inspection he discovers a note tacked to the page, covered in Christopher’s loopy scrawl.

Eddie pads up behind him, the creaking floor disclosing his presence. “Did I leave my binder out?”

“No . . . baby, come here.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Buck from behind, propping his chin on his shoulder. “What am I looking at?”

The paper is wrinkled and torn, and Buck hasn’t thought about it in . . . five years, maybe more. Not since Eddie originally drafted the idea. It was around the time they moved into their new house. There was an oddly-shaped room tacked onto the back of the house, like an afterthought, and Eddie had overflowed with an overabundance of Pinterest board deep-dives and manic late-night Target visits to come up with the perfect outdoor room that he’d always wanted to make for himself, whenever he finally had a mortgage and not a lease. Of course, life got in the way, and then college loomed closer, and the Outdoor Room Fund became Christopher’s College Fund, and the sheet of paper was ripped out of the binder to make room for more feasible projects, and ultimately forgotten.

Well, not forgotten entirely.

Buck holds up the note so they both can read it.

Dads,

Thanks for always being there for me, and for not being mad that I want to go to college, even though it’s expensive and the house will be so boring without me. I found this in the trash all those years ago and kept it. You’ve done so much for me, and I’ll be okay, so do something for yourself. Love you guys.

-Chris

Buck resolutely does not cry, but he is very, very close.

Eddie tightens his arms around Buck’s waist, and they rock gently in the kitchen, reading over the note, looking at Eddie’s old design page for the outdoor room.

“We could go to the store tomorrow, get breakfast after,” Eddie suggests. “Make a date out of it.”

The AC clicks on in the background, and a dull hum percolates through the space. “Only if you quit being stingy and buy me that coffee I like.”

“Deal.”

Buck smiles, and turns around to wrap himself around his husband, who still smells like the evergreen air freshener in the truck, and like the taco stand they stopped by on the way home for a snack. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie presses a kiss to Buck’s neck. “We’re gonna be okay.”

#kitkat writes #buddie #a drabble #interior designer!eddie #happy buddie breakdown friday to all who celebrate

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whentherewerebicycles · 2 years

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okay I spent all day making a comprehensive planning doc (housing, logistics stuff, budget, annotated list of jobs I’m applying to, some initial resume/cover letter stuff) and I feel sooooo much better. like one million times calmer and ready to move forward. @herstrionics was so right that just choosing a path and proceeding as if I was 100% going down that path was IMMENSELY clarifying—it helped me clear out space in my brain so I could think about what I wanted and whether the path was feasible for me. I also think that having an option C (the Bay Area) briefly thrown in there this weekend was weirdly helpful because it became apparent SO quickly that the Bay Area was NOT feasible, not even a little bit, and that gave me a different perspective on the other options. I have so much work to do still!!! my resume and cover letter templates need so much work for the admin jobs in particular (really I just need to read like 20 good examples so I can get more comfortable with the format). I also want to sink a solid week of work into building a professional website with a portfolio of teaching materials/projects, which is something I’ve been putting off doing for ages now. I still have ongoing work with students too, but it’s mostly relaxed grad school application coaching and a little bit of project wrap-up, so it should be easy to balance.

here’s an extremely rough timeline of the next four weeks:

this week: finish & post fest fic; gather and study a bunch of resumes/cover letters in my field; see if I can produce 2-3 different updated versions of my own resume; talk with AP, KC, and LP about career stuff; rec letter for AG; draft grad SOP prompts for ML; drive back to Austin this wknd

next week: cover letter week, baby. I know that if I sit down and think about this I can come up with a system for substituting and tailoring blocks of cover letter material that will enable me to spend less time on each individual letter. I can make this more efficient goddammit!! my goal is to have a cover letter draft for each of my four career tracks (CC faculty, higher ed admin, private school, educational nonprofit) by July 1 so that I can get feedback and begin submitting the next week.

first week of july: I may need to spend at least part of this week finishing cover letters or drafting equity statements esp for the teaching jobs, but hopefully I can submit for the admin job ones if I haven’t already! I also want to be gathering sample materials for a professional website. also ok to take a break and hang out with austin friends… I have time! enjoy the time!

second week of july: build website, maybe? and continue updating job list (possibly expanding this week to looking at ed tech/ed consulting or other roles that still feel loosely values-aligned). no idea if I’ll get interviews or how fast that’ll happen if so but also maybe do interview prep.

#jes embraces change

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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

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All Because of a Jacket

Stiles x Reader

GIF Not Mine

Summary: A collection of the times Stiles lends Y/N his lacrosse jacket.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,039

A/N: I have no idea where this came from guys. Actually, I do—I ordered myself a Stiles lacrosse jacket and I’ve been living in it since it came, so that’s most likely what inspired this little imagine. I hope you enjoy it! Leaving a link HERE to the jacket I got off Etsy if you’re interested—I cannot recommend it enough!

Click Here For my Masterlist.

It started off subtle, something I didn’t notice at first, and was merely grateful for. The pack had met in the middle of the lacrosse field on a Sunday evening, the location chosen as a way of avoiding any police cruisers who were out enforcing the town-wide 9pm curfew. Still, I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just have met at someone’s house, though I suppose that did run the risk of neighbours ratting us out.

I’d been trying to listen to what Scott was saying, and the whole reason we were gathered in the middle of the freezing cold lacrosse field in January, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus. It was my own fault, really. I’d assumed we’d go inside the school once we’d all gathered together, which was why I’d forgone grabbing a jacket as I left my house. Now, I was there, scrunching the sleeves of my jumper in a vain attempt to retain some heat and reverse the cold settling in on my bones. I had my arms crossed over my chest, and was seriously considering just wrapping my arms around Derek and burying my face into his back—he wouldn’t have minded and the man gave off more heat than a damn space heater, but I was startled out of my thoughts by a curtain of warmth being wrapped around me. I blinked, surprised and my eyes fluttered closed for a second in complete and utter relief, before my brain registered that the wonderfully warm jacket hadn’t just landed on my shoulders of its own accord. I looked to my left and straight into a particular pair of honey brown eyes that I was more than a little fond of. His eyes were soft at that moment, and when I murmured a quiet thank you, he responded with a bashful smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest.

As I slid my arms through the long sleeves of Stiles’ lacrosse jacket and buttoned up the front in an attempt to retain the warmth the sarcastic boy’s body had provided, I found myself grateful that Stiles, like me, was one of the only humans of the group. It meant that I’d been able to successfully keep my more than platonic feelings from him. Of course, he was the only one who didn’t know.

I narrowed my eyes at Derek’s teasing, barely there, smile and discretely flipped him off by scratching my nose with my middle finger. The action didn’t go unmissed by the blue-eyed wolf and he breathed a chuckle before returning his attention to the alpha in front of the group.

My cold state now taken care of, I was able to concentrate on Scott’s words, subconsciously stepping closer to Stiles as I listened, my body seeking out the comfort his presence always provided me with without my consent.

That was the first time Stiles gave me his jacket.

The second time had been during a “stake-out” with Liam and Stiles. The honey-eyed boy was adamant that there was something off with Theo, and honestly I hadn’t got the best feeling about him popping into our lives out of nowhere for one, adding in the fact he was also a werewolf… well it was just too much of a coincidence.

‘I’m telling you, there’s something not right about him, Y/N.’ Stiles said, for what must have been the hundredth time in the last four hours.

‘Stiles.’ My hand covered his on the steering wheel, and I felt us both immediately relax at the touch, ‘I believe you, okay? You don’t need to convince me of anything. If you say there’s something off with Theo, I’m not going to question it.’

His usually honey-brown eyes were dark with emotion as his hand squeezed mine, ‘why? Why do you believe me?’

‘Because you have great instincts and I trust you and your opinions more than anyone else’s.’ I told him honestly.

I felt my heart beat pick up the longer his eyes bore into mine, but I refused to look away, even knowing that Liam was probably smiling in the same smug way all the werewolves had mastered whenever my heart misbehaved around Stiles. What felt like hours later, Stiles blinked and bought my hands in-between both of his.

At my look of confusion, he elaborated, ‘you’re freezing.’

‘Huh, I didn’t even notice.’ I shrugged, trying to fight the blush forming on my cheeks at what felt like an intimate gesture.

He opened his hands a little so he could blow some hot air onto mine, and the warmth generated from the act seemed to travel through my whole body.

‘Better?’ he asked after a few minutes of repeating the gesture.

I cleared my throat and kept my answer short, not trusting my voice, ‘much. Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ He released my hands and I slid them underneath my thighs to retain the heat he’d created.

My eyes moved over to where we’d been watching for most of the night, to see Theo was still playing his video game, like he had been for most of the night. It made me frown; sure video games were what teenagers usually did, but it just seemed too convenient to me. I was about to voice my opinion to Stiles and Liam when familiar cotton was placed onto my shoulders. My arms moved through the sleeves almost reflexively as I offered my best friend a grateful smile, and tried to resist the urge to bury my face into the fabric to inhale his sweet and husky scent.

‘Thank you.’

‘Can’t have you freezing on me.’ He joked his hand squeezing my thigh briefly before returning it to the steering wheel.

I couldn’t have stopped the blush that formed on my cheeks if I tried, so I turned my gaze to stare out of the window, my hand resting where his had touched me, and I wondered— if I were to remove the denim barrier provided by my jeans, would my thigh display a brand of his hand print?

Because the heat left behind by his touch felt exactly like I had been branded as his.

The third time had been in the cafeteria.

We were all sitting together, minus Derek and Liam, and all having different conversations in our own little groups. Allison and Isaac were making weekend plans, provided she could sneak out without her father noticing, Lydia, Aiden, Ethan and Danny were talking about something they could all do together on a double date, and Stiles, Scott and I were all talking about collages we wanted to apply to. Well, they were. I was trying not to fall asleep using my sandwich as a pillow; I’d been up late the night before, helping Stiles put together his criminal bored. Nothing had been solved, but we both found it helpful to have everything, every clue, and every detail all in one place.

Of course, time had gotten away from us, and our party had been broken up by the Sherriff returning from his shift and gently informing us it was past three am. I’d been too tired to drive home and had slept on the couch, but two hours sleep wasn’t enough time for me, unlike Stiles; he was as hyperactive as ever.

I pushed my tray away from me with a sigh, too tired to eat anyway, and laid my head down on top of my arms. I’d heard a few chuckles from the pack, but I ignored it; they knew how I could be when I was tired so they just left me to it. I was on the brink of passing out, knowing someone would wake me for our next class, when I found myself surrounded by what was becoming my favourite jacket emitting warmth and a scent I couldn’t get enough of. I slid my arms into the sleeves and nuzzled my face into the fabric once I’d returned them to my original position. Had I been fully conscious of my actions, I’d have been embarrassed at my audience, but the chuckles simply faded into nothing as I finally found sleep.

What I hadn’t noticed was Stiles’ fond smile, or the knowing and frustrated expressions the rest of the pack wore.

The fourth time had been during a lacrosse game.

I’d been standing in the bleachers, wearing a jacket that was not keeping me warm in the slightest and discretely trying to huddle closer to Malia—she gave off as much heat as her uncle did—when I’d heard Stiles shouting my name.

I’d frowned, but manoeuvred my way out of the row I’d been sat in and made my way down to the benches, where he was waiting. He was holding his helmet under his arm and when I reached him, he held out his jacket and I took it, but didn’t put it on in case I’d misunderstood his meaning. Did he want me to give it to Malia? I’d noticed they’d been particularly close since she had joined the pack, and as much as it made my heart ache, I was glad the female wolf had someone to offer her comfort when she’d been without it for so long.

‘I noticed it’s pretty cold and figured you could use a jacket.’ He said, seeming nervous.

I felt a genuine smile form on my lips as I slid the cotton on and buttoned up the front, ‘thank you. I feel like I should rent this from you with how often I wear it.’ I chuckled, pulling my hair out from underneath the fabric.

He joined me in my laughter, ‘nah, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like seeing you in my jacket.’ He looked nervous again and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.

Did he mean…? ‘You do?’ I asked, my voice quiet to my own ears.

‘I do,’ he stepped closer and I felt wonderfully dizzy as a stronger wave of his heat and scent washed over me, ‘Y/N…I’ve liked you for a while. As more than a friend, and I’ve been too scared to say anything, but Scott practically threatened to kill me if I didn’t admit it to you.’

‘You like me?’ I repeated, dumbfounded. How had I missed it? Had I been so preoccupied in hiding my own feelings that I’d been blind to his?

‘Yes.’ He looked more nervous now and I found myself reaching out, my hands falling on top of his in an attempt to comfort him.

‘Stiles…’ I took a breath, finding the courage to say the words I’d been holding in for so long, ‘I like you too.’

His honey-coloured eyes bore into mine for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds, before his lips formed a face splitting grin that made my heart warm in my chest.

‘So, will you go on a date with me?’ he asked, seeming more confident but not much.

‘Absolutely.’ I grinned, my face leaning into his hand as it came up to caress the side of my face.

‘Awesome.’ He grinned again, and I was sure that we would both be wearing these giddy expressions for the foreseeable future, ‘pizza after?’

‘Perfect.’ I laced my fingers through his and almost jumped a mile when coach blew his whistle. I’d been so lost in him, his touch, his warmth, and his smell that I’d completely forgotten where we were.

‘I should get out there before Coach kills me.’ He chuckled.

‘Okay.’ I replied, reluctantly releasing his hands.

He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead that I made my heart melt. Before he could leave me completely, I grabbed his jersey and with a teasing grin told him, ‘by the way, this jacket is mine now.’

He blinked, and when he’d processed my words a bright, fond grin broke out across his face. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered against my skin, ‘you won’t find me objecting to that, sweetheart.’ He winked, waved, and left to join the huddle in the centre of the field.

My cheek didn’t stop burning for the rest of the game.

#stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stillinski imagine #teen wolf

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speutschlish · 4 years

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Promising Young Woman (tw: abuse, assault, r*pe, trauma)

Two days ago I saw Promising Young Woman at a drive-in theater, and it was the most cathartic film experience I’ve ever had. I was bawling, ecstatic, and deeply triggered all at the same time. It was beautiful. I couldn’t even stand up afterwards because I became nauseous and light-headed. In therapy I’ve been learning how to reconnect my body sensations to how I’m feeling. Watching this obra maestra made me feel all the feelings, and I had such a powerful physical reaction in response to that - it was a good learning experience in that way as well.

That paragraph may sound too contradictory to make sense, but it makes perfect sense to me, and if you want to read more (with spoilers), you can expand this post.

If you don’t want to read spoilers, then let me just say that as someone with C-PTSD caused by childhood abuse (sexual, emotional, psychological), r*pe and sexual assault who is finally in a safe enough place to look back and face it all in the hopes of healing, this movie SAW me, and that means A LOT.

PYW is a realist film. There is an unreliable narrator in Cassie (though there is no narration that happens, just that Cassie’s is the only vantagepoint through which the plot progresses). She is perfectly imperfect. She is drowning in her trauma, and as I’ve learned through uncovering and attempting to heal my own trauma, I know intimately how the trauma brain distorts your actions and reactions and feelings, so is Cassie doing “the right thing™”? No. But she’s doing the only thing her trauma brain can tell her to do - keep Nina close, keep Nina alive, don’t give up, don’t let them win, don’t move on because Nina can’t, so why should you?

The thing is, this movie shows that the only one who ISN’T crazy is Cassie.

Cassie is the only one who cares as much as someone should care that a woman was drugged, raped, mocked, discarded, demeaned, dehumanized into suicide.

Let’s look at everyone else’s response:

Nina’s mom: obviously traumatized, grieving, but has compartmentalized and wants (needs) to “move on”

Cassie’s dad: expresses sympathy, is one of the few characters who mentions Nina without Cassie’s prompting, but ultimately takes no real “action” to help Cassie, and most likely did not take action to help Nina (sympathy without support)

Cassie’s mom: desperate for Cassie to “move on” so that her family life can seem perfect again

Madison (ex-friend of Nina and Cassie): victim blames, repeatedly calls the r*pe of Nina “gossip” and admits she laughed at the video

Ryan (Cassie’s snuffed out love flame): after seeing video evidence that he witnessed the r*pe of Nina, he says he did nothing wrong and proceeds to attend the wedding of the r*pist like it was all normal

Cassie has long ago tired herself out screaming “LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED! THIS IS AN INHUMAN ACT! THIS IS A CRIME! NINA IS SUFFERING! WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT?” And at the point of the movie, years later, Cassie lives in the theater of the absurd, where no one wants to remember Nina or take any action on her behalf. Was the path that Cassie took the best path? The healthy path? No. But it’s not a stretch to understand why she thought it was the only one she could go down and still live with herself.

It hit me when someone called Cassie crazy, and she says, “No, I really don’t think I am.”

It hit me when Ryan tells her “Can we think about this for a second?”, and she says “You have NO idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

It hit me when she wrote “In the event of my disappearance...”

It’s so clear to me - Cassie didn’t want to die. Cassie didn’t even really want “revenge”, per se. She wanted the world to make sense. She wanted the gravity of Al Monroe et al’s crimes to be recognized and treated as the horrendous, inhuman, vile acts that they were.

The movie is real - Cassie can’t have that. She can’t have that because there are r*pists sitting on the highest courts of the land. There are Presidents who support, applaud, and participate in r*pe. There are terrorists who blow up bombs in public, but not before torturing and abusing those closest to him at home and the authorities do nothing after he is reported. There is a man living his normal life out there after r*ping my mother, molesting and r*ping me as a child, and turning the other way after his son r*ped my sister.

If someone is so monstrous that they can drug and r*pe a woman - they have already shown that they have no regard for the personhood of girls and women. They will not hesitate to wretch her personhood away from her, do as he likes with it, and choke the last bit of life-sustaining air from it. It is no surprise that Al Monroe is capable of murder, and it’s no surprise that his friend laughs when he finds out she’s dead.

Lately I’ve been feeling some regrets - why didn’t I fight more? Why didn’t I scream at him, find a weapon, run away, something, something to show him how deeply wrong he was to do those things to a girl, to a woman?

This movie was a peek at an alternate path that I could have taken. It showed me a part of my life unlived, a part of my life that I could have had in another universe. It didn’t look away. It gave viewers the thing that Cassie was searching for - the recognition that (Nina / I / all victims) matter and that what happened to (Nina / me / all victims) matters. It has weight. It takes up space. The evil of what happened to (Nina / me / all victims) dripped and oozed and infected everyone that it touched. Cassie wasn’t wrong to recognize that, and if we all did, the world would be a better place.

#promising young woman

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vuhtterlly · 3 years

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Overwhelmed

Who: Geto Suguru x GN! Reader

Warnings: Comfort. Slightly reckless driving. Light angst? Grammatical Errors. A tiny, tiny, TINY spoiler.

A/N: This is inspired by true events. Unloading is not easy, and we get so wrapped up trying to ignore that it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to cry when you don't know the reason and seek comfort from the person you trust the most.

Summary: You have to be fine, not for everyone's sake but for yourself. So, why after tonight's event, you find yourself crying and conflicted to call for help. Though someone notices your behavior and does not hesitate to be there for you.

Muffled voices surrounded you, but strangely enough, you can hear what they are saying. You laugh when everyone does, you answer when someone asks you things, but behind that smile, you were lost. It was like if your body was on autopilot.

You look at your watch, and it was getting late. "I'm sure everyone still wants to hear how great you are, but we have students to teach early tomorrow," you got up from your seat.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! Don't be a party pooper. I'm sure we can still hang a couple more minutes," Gojo pleaded.

You shook your head and gave an apologetic smile to the waitress who has been waiting to clean the table.

"They're right, Gojo. Can't you see it's time to close! Plus, we see each other every day." The black hair man scolded the pouting white-haired man.

Gojo pouted and got up, "You three go ahead. I'll pay for our meal."

Shoko was already walking ahead and pulling out her smokes. Geto walked a bit further but noticed how you were walking slow and looking at your surroundings. It was as if you were trying to distract yourself.

He opened the door and hold it for you.

"Hey, are you okay?" He stood next to you as you took your keys out of your pocket.

You scrunched your eyebrows, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be."

He shrugged, "Just asking." Though he knew that you were lying but didn't push anymore.

The four of you came in separate cars, but Gojo and Geto came together.

"Ah! I guess he's up to his antics again," You pointed at the window.

Shoko and Geto looked in your pointed direction. They see Gojo flirting with the young waitress. The three of you sigh, and Shoko decided to go back in to drag Gojo away from the poor woman.

You yawned and stretch out your limbs.

Geto chuckled, "I guess you should head out before you fall asleep here."

You hummed in agreement.

"Come on. I'll walk you to your car." He nodded towards where your car is parked.

As the two of you were walking, you were questioning if you should ask him if he wants to go with you, but your automated brain wasn't letting you.

Geto could have asked you if he could go with you, but he knew that something was going on with you, and you needed some space. Though that didn't stop him from worrying.

You got in your car. Before Geto closed the door for you, he stared at you.

"Umm, Sugu?" You asked nervously. Squirming at his intense gaze.

He shook his head, "Sorry! Are you sure you able to drive? I know you struggle driving at night." He wanted to stall, anything to be by your side.

You gave a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine! The campus is close by. I can make it! Besides, you have me in find friends. So, if anything, just look where I am at."

That's the thing he doesn't want to resort to that. He wants to believe that you'll be fine, but his gut is warning him that he should be with you.

He nodded, agreeing with your last statement, "Please drive safe then. Text me once you're close by."

He lets you close the door, his eyes not leaving your car as it drives away.

*******

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips, and in a millisecond, a sob came afterward.

You were driving to an intersection, and it's your turn to make a stop. You were about to make a left, but your head wasn't letting you think straight. You were so caught up sobbing that you didn't properly look at both sides and almost hit a car.

"Clear your head, Y/N. You can't drive like this. Clear. Your. Head." You took a couple of deep breaths. Once the road was clear, you made the left turn, but you started to sob again. Your "Clear Mind" mantra was working-ish, but the tears weren't stopping.

Stopping at a traffic light, you started to rant, "You we-were never in m-my life, and you have the au-audacity to talk shit about m-me?! W-who do y-you t-think you are to say...to say th-that I've never done any-anything to p-prove that I can l-lead the c-clan. T-that I'm not smart en-enough to lead. I'm a t-teacher for fuck sakes!!!"

Your eyes glance at the light. The traffic light taking its time to turn green.

"Uncle, y-you are in-in no position to-to say that-that I'm n-not worthy of the title. B-because I am w-worthy!!!! I-I don't have sons w-who kno-knocked up and ha-have di-different baby mommas!!!! Plus, I ca-can destroy your weak ass sons!!!"

You reach to turn up the music. The back of your head wanted to deny this action, telling you that you need to let everything out. Though you just wanted to block your thoughts.

When your sibling found out about it and told you, it didn't hit like right now. In fact, you laughed and said that your uncle's sons didn't have anything compared to you. The elders in your clan already confirm that you were next in line to lead your clan. So, why is something like what your uncle said affecting you?

Shouldn't you be crying over your work? That there were innocent people you couldn't save, and their families blame you.

From taking your students to missions, making sure they survived, making sure the elders didn't touch one of Gojo's students, preparing to become the new clan leader, training to perfect your domain expansion, to go on solo missions. It was an endless cycle, but why are you crying for a small comment?

Could it be that you're just overwhelmed? That this is your body trying to unload?

Your thoughts were all over the place, and the music wasn't helping. The light turned green, but soon the road lights were fading, making it harder for you to drive.

"I can't drive like this," You let out a shaky breath. "What s-should I do?" You hiccupped.

You slowly pulled to the side of the road and parked your car. When you thought you had calm down, another wave of sobs burst out of your lips. Before you know it, you screamed, and punch the steering wheel trying to let go of your frustrations.

Minutes turned to an hour, and you were dozing off. Would it be a bad idea to sleep on the road for the night? Then again, you'll have to explain to Suguru why you haven't come home yet.

You didn't want to bother anyone, especially at this hour. You've learned that dealing with these emotions was best because who could understand you better than yourself?

Although...

You have friends who trust you with their vulnerability, but do you trust them with yours?

What's the point of having friends if you can't be real with them?

Aren't you the type of person friends come for comfort?

For once, don't you want someone to comfort you?

Lowering the music volume. Your phone was in your hand, and unconsciously you dial Geto. Biting your lip, you immediately cancel the call. You feared what he'll think or that he can't be there for you.

The ring from your phone startled you, he called you back.

You cleared your throat and swallowed a chunk of saliva. Hoping he wouldn't notice your broken voice.

"Hello?"

"Unlock your door." That was all he said before he hanged up.

You looked around your surroundings and saw a dark outline of a car parked behind you. A figure walked towards your door, and thanks to the moonlight, you were able to see that it was Suguru.

When he opened the door, your lips quivered, and another wave of tears streams down your cheeks.

"S-Sugu I-" You wanted to ask how or why, but he didn't give you a chance.

He leans towards you and unbuckles your seatbelt.

"I going to pick you up and put you in the back, okay?" His face was inches from yours.

You nodded and hiccupped.

He leaves for a second to open the back door and comes back, picking you up gently.

After he places you gently on the back seat, a voice comes from the direction of the other car.

"Are they alright?!" they yelled, worry hidden in their voice.

Geto pulls back and wipes some of your tears away, "I'll be back."

You didn't want him to leave; his warmth made you feel safe.

It felt like an eternity for Suguru to come back, but then you saw the headlights from the other car turned on and drove off.

You hiccupped, and the tears never seemed to end.

"Sorry if I took long. Mind if you scoot over." He said softly.

Your mind was back to autopilot and did what was commanded.

The two of you sat there uncomfortable. Geto did not know if it's okay to pull you into a hug, but he decided to do it. He makes you sit on his thighs, chest against chest, and he then pushes your face towards his neck. One arm is wrapped around your waist, while the other one is rubbing your back.

"It's okay to cry. But for once, let me hold you and soothe your raging thoughts, just like you've done for me. Let me be your shoulder for you to cry on, trust me with your vulnerability," he pleaded and hold you tighter.

You wanted to push him away, but instead, your hands reached to grip his shirt. You gritted your teeth and let out another sob. Suguru didn't stop rubbing your back and kept giving soothing words.

This craving that was starting to build, you didn't want it to end. You never thought that being wrapped in someone's arm can be so warm and slightly refreshing.

"Whenever you feel ready to talk, I'll be here with you. It doesn't matter if it's something small or silly; your feelings are important. Don't think that I'll judge you because I won't," he reassured you.

It took you a while to gain some of your composure back, but you manage to regain some strength. A shaky breath left your lips, and you pull back from his warmth. His hand reaches your cheeks and wipes away your tears. You were able to hold eye contact with him, and his gentle smile makes you feel at ease.

"Sorry for making a-a mess on your sh-shoulder," you reached to pat dry the wetness.

He grabs your hand and intertwines it with his, "It's okay." While the other one is still wiping your rebel tears.

"Umm, I'm-I'm sorry." You mumbled and looked behind him. Finding the passing cars interesting.

He knew why you were apologizing for and clenched his jaw. "There's nothing to be sorry... Look at me."

You hesitated, but he gently grabs your chin and pulls your attention back to him.

"I want to be here with you. For you." He squeezes your hand. "Remember when I was pushing everyone away, but you were able to see through me?"

You nodded.

"I didn't know I needed someone until you came, and you told me that it's okay to feel the way I was feeling. So, what did you do?" He said a bit humorously.

You smiled at the memory.

"You made it your mission to pull me out of that hole."

"I did it because I care," you unknowingly whispered.

He squeezed your hand, "Exactly! And guess what? I care about you too."

That word care, it was still foreign to you. Strange, huh? You care about others but have a hard time believing when others say they care about you. Maybe it was because people have let you down when you needed their comfort. Or chose to ignore your cries for help.

Yet, here's this man giving you warmth and comfort. Something that you have been craving for too long. It was still foreign for you, but your craving wasn't going to deny it.

When his hands cradled your face, your cheeks flared up. This type of intimacy was a bit too much, but you welcomed it. Finally, realizing Suguru is being genuine and not acting.

Tears started to stream down, and you leaned to hug him. The man didn't hesitate to hug back.

"I hope those are happy tears."

BRB I going to go cry now. Ps. I made it home safely.

JJK Masterlist

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #geto suguru

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sydnee-kom-spacekru · 3 years

Text

Cosmically Connected (Spencer Reid x Reader Fluff)

Disclaimer: The first part of this one-shot is a rewrite of @reidsnose one shot, Cosmically Connected. This is in no way meant to steal credit from them, or steal their work. This is merely a rewrite and extension. I have permission to rewrite this.

Summary: Reid doesn't believe in soul mates, and you convince him. After, you go and watch movies and he reads to you, and things are said.

Warnings: FLUFF, slight language, makes me want to scream just starting to write it, etc. Nothing bad.

A/n: Idk if Reid has watched Harry Potter. So let's just say he hasn't. This is set in season 5. F/c stands for favorite color.

Requested: No. Well, by me but that's it.

The BAU was had an unusually slow day. Paperwork and jokes were all that went on.

It was just you, Garcia, and Reid left. Even though it was only six in the evening.

You were coming back from the restroom when you heard a loud bang! You panicked, and rushed to the cubicles, getting ready to pull out your gun.

After you realized that nothing was wrong, you noticed that Garcia was the source of the loud noise. She had slammed her hands down on Reid's desk.

You sighed out of relief, "What the hell?" It was part relief, part anger at them for causing you such grief.

Garcia stood straight up, pointing at Reid, who looked amused. "Him." Was all she said.

"Uhm," You breathed out a laugh. "You'll have to fill me in." You were smiling, you adored the people in front of you.

"He, he doesn't believe in soulmates, Y/n. Soulmates! What kind of person..." She trailed off, sitting down in your chair.

Spencer just shrugged, smiling. "I am a man of science, Garcia! And science says no."

You hummed, and he turned towards you, "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice got higher as he went on.

"Because," you said, leaning against his desk. ""Science Man", science says "yes"."

"Oh! Y/n told me about this last Tuesday!" She turned towards you. "You remember, I said you sounded just like boy genius over here." She giggled and waved you on.

You nodded and stood up, stealing Reid's glasses, putting them on. Reid just smiled at you, laughing making you snort.

"Now tell me!" He said impatiently.

"I am, calm down!" You cleared your throat. "So, you know when the big bang or whatever caused the creation of the universe, there were all sorts of molecules and space dust that was together at one point, broke apart. I'm accurate so far, yes Mr. Science Man?" You smirked.

"It's Doctor. And, yes?" He glanced to the sides.

You snickered, then continued. "The whole universe is made of such particles?"

"You're correct."

"And humans are made of previously mentioned space dust?"

"Yeah, that's right." He said cautiously.

"So two people could be made of the sae space dust that was once whole?" He sputtered, you smiled. You knew you had him.

"Y-yeah, I guess that could happen."

"In such a case, these two space dust beings are cosmically connected. They are bound together from the beginning by the beginning." You watched as he slowly became more impressed. "These two souls are connected. In other words;" You paused, wiggling your fingers and underlining the imaginary word, "soulmates!"

You sat back, satisfied with the effect that the words had on him. You knew his brain was racing, you could tell. You watched him as he worked this in his brain. You loved to just watch him think, to exist, every little thing he did brought a blush to your face. Never in your life had you met a person quite like Doctor Spencer Reid. It was quite embarrassing, actually. To have such a ginormous crush on one of your co-workers.

But, you shook off your euphoria, you were convinced he didn't feel the same way. As long as you could be his friend, you were content enough, for now.

He kept opening and closing his mouth, trying to think of something to say. He felt as if you had electrocuted him, but in a good way. A refreshing way. "I-, I can't believe it, Y/n."

"Ha! You did it, Y/n! You proved our very own resident genius wrong!" She smiled an award winning smile, flashing all of her teeth at you.

"So," You grinned at him. "Wha'd'ya say, Brainiac? Convinced yet?"

"Well, Y/n, science is science. Soulmates are true." He cracked a goofy smile.

But what you didn't know is that it wasn't your lecture that convinced him. It was the fact that he believed that he had found his soulmate, right then and there. It was you.

Spencer realized as you were telling him, the way you looked at him, with complete adoration, he thought he was going to melt. He felt his heart rate speed up as he thought about the last couple of weeks, how you were there for him when he needed someone most. How he loved to be around you, how he longed to be. How he felt warm inside when you were around, how he loved every little thing about you. He was then hit with a sudden realization. He loved you.

"Yes!" You practically screamed, snapping him out of his thoughts. He realized that it had only been two seconds, two seconds of him thinking of everything about you.

You jumped off of his desk, and hugged Garcia, who had stood up. You pulled back, now you were both chanting "Science says soulmates! Science says soulmates!" You sat down, and Garcia pushed you in your chair around the office.

Garcia pushed you down the hallway, the sound of you guys' laughter fading off.

Morgan came into the office, slapping Reid on the back, laughing. "When are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know, probably never. Maybe not even then." Reid shrugged. Then, desperate to change the subject, he quickly said, "By the way, what are you doing here, Morgan?"

"No no no, Man! Don't change the subject. Why not?"

Reid turned red, "She isn't into me like that, Morgan. You've seen the guys she's gone out with." He scoffed.

Morgan sat down, getting serious. "Come on, Reid. You're a profiler, you have to know she's into you." Spencer just shrugged, but enjoyed the idea of you liking him back.

Morgan just hung his head, laughing. He stood up. "I can't wait to tell you I told you so."

"Then you'll be waiting for a long time."

"Ah! But not forever, Pretty Boy. Not forever!" He laughed as he walked out.

Reid laughed, but a small smile tugged at his lips at the idea of a relationship with you.

"Damn it." You sighed in resignation at your phone. You were getting ready to leave, to head to a friends house. Have a Harry Potter Marathon, watch all of them consecutively. You baked 200 cookies, literally.

And they just cancelled on you. You spun in your chair, you were disappointed to say the least. You've had this planned for a month.

Reid walked up behind you, peering over your shoulder. "What's the matter?"

You sighed, leaning your head back and looking at him. "It's nothing, my friend just cancelled on me. She's sick." He pursed his lips, "Oh, I'm sorry Y/n." You shrugged.

"Can I do anything for you?" He sat down in his desk, which was in front of yours, facing you. You guys only had laptops, so it was easy to see over them.

You thought as you packed your stuff. You both headed to the door, it was dark even though it was only seven. It was November. "I guess you could come over and help me eat all of the cookies I made. And you could have a Harry Potter marathon with me." You grinned, looking up at him.

"Okay," he paused. "How many movies are there?" You stopped as you came to your car.

"Have you never seen or read Harry Potter?"

"No, it didn't interest me." You raised your eyebrows.

"Okay, then we'll start the books tonight." You stated, and opened the passenger seat for him.

The ride to your apartment was quiet, The Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background. It started to sprinkle. You were nearly home, maybe five minutes.

"Hey Spencer?" You started.

"Hmm?" He turned to face away from the window and look at you.

"Do you really believe in soulmates now?" You shifted in the driver seat, glancing over at him.

He didn't hesitate to answer, "Yes." His breathing had sped up. "Uhm, Actually," You came to a stop at the red light, and turned up the heat, it was cold. "I think that I've met mine." He barely blinked as he waited for your reaction.

Your heart sunk, but you recovered. Quickly telling yourself it was never going to happen anyways. "Really?" You voice sounded unnatural, but you didn't know how to fix it. "Who is it?"

He hesitated. "I'm not sure I want to tell anyone just yet."

You swallowed, and resumed driving after a car behind you honked at you.

You waved at them as they passed you by, mouthing "Sorry."

You pulled into the parking garage, taking out an umbrella from the trunk. You could hear the rain beating down on the floors above you. Spencer got out of the car, coming up beside you and putting his hand on your shoulder, making you shiver. "I'm sorry, I didn't bring an umbrella." He shouted over the thunder, but at the lat second it ended, and his voice echoed throughout the garage. A mother holding her baby glared at him, and he whispered sorry. After she was gone, you both burst out laughing.

"That's alright," you said as soon as you calmed down. "We can share. But you have to hold it, my arm would get tired." You smiled at him, handing him the umbrella. He unravelled it, and it had a hole in it. Right in the center.

"Oh no." You said, dragging out the 'o', groaning. "It's too big, it wouldn't cover us up anyways. I hope you have extra clothes." You chuckled.

"Wait," He shrugged off the trench coat he was wearing, and held it over both of you. "There we go." He sounded proud of himself. You just giggled at him, and held yours and his things close to you.

You ran across the street, trying to keep up with Reid.

You flopped down on your couch, Reid stood there awkwardly with the sopping coat. "Shoot! Sorry, here give it to me." You stood up and reached for it, and went to put it into the washer.

"It should be done pretty quick," you hollered from the laundry room, "my washer and dryer-" You turned around, then yelled. Reid was standing right there.

"Jesus! Spencer you scared the living hell out of me!" You smacked his chest.

"Sorry, I heard you talking and I came back here..." He backed up to let you by.

You sighed, laughing and turning on the heat. It was freezing in your apartment. "Come on, I have literally over two hundred cookies in my kitchen, and I have the first book in my room." You point out the kitchen, and tell him to grab the cookies.

You went to your room, looking through your book shelves for the first book. "Ah-ha!" You whisper shouted to yourself, you had found the Sorcerer's Stone. You grabbed it off the shelf, and went back down the hallway.

"Hey, Spence! I found..." You trailed off as you found Spencer on the floor in your living room, with a large plate piled high of the different kinds of cookies you made. He was watching some random movie that was on. You just set the book down on the table, and sat down next to him, taking a cookie off the plate. He smiled close lipped at you, "These cookies are so good, Y/n." He looked adorable, he was so happy. You couldn't help but look at him for a little while, he kept laughing at random parts in the movie.

About an hour and forty-six (Spencer counted) cookies later, the movie was over. "I need to go shopping, so I don't have very much food in here besides leftovers." You said, opening the fridge. It was nearly empty, day-old Chinese, a small bottle of orange juice, and just a smidge of cookie dough. "Do you wanna order some pizza?"

You heard Spencer get up and enter the kitchen. "Do what? I heard you say that you had leftovers, but not the second part."

You turned around. "I asked," you paused, turning around and closing the fridge. "If you wanted to order pizza. Or I could just drop you off at your apartment." You added the last part quickly, not thinking about it until the last second. You walked back to the living room, sitting down sideways on the loveseat, your feet up on the second cushion. He came and picked up your feet, sat down, and put them back on his lap.

"We can order pizza, what kind do you want?" He asked you. You shrugged.

"How about we just get hot wings." You suggested.

"Okay."

"Oh my God, my mouth is on fire." You laughed. "We shouldn't have gotten the ghost pepper flavour."

Spencer was whining, waving his hands in front of his mouth. You burst out laughing, he glared at you but he was smiling. "Hey! This isn't funny."

You groaned, drinking some water. "Shit. That didn't help." You whined, sticking out your tongue. Spencer had gone to your kitchen, you didn't notice.

"I found Orange Juice. Can I have some?" He asked, faking desperation. It was a cheep little bottle, one you get from the dollar store.

"Yeah, just don't drink it all." He took a long drink, and handed it to you. He sighed in relief.

"It's better. Did you know, the reason the orange juice helps is because of the..." You weren't listening. You weren't trying to be rude, but you were just focused on the orange juice. You finished the small bottle and set it down on the table next to the empty container that smelled spicy. You laid down on the loveseat, closing your eyes for a second. It was only ten, but you were unusually sleepy.

"...Neat, right?" You just nodded. You were sleepy, and you still wanted to read with Spencer.

"Y/n? Are you tired?" He sat down in the space between the coffee table and the loveseat, and you felt his put his hand on your cheek, rubbing over your cheekbone with his thumb. You opened your eyes, a sleepy smile on your face.

"I have to take you home." You said, but made no move to get up.

"Hey, shh." He brushed your hair out of your face, causing you to turn red. "I can sleep on the couch here tonight."

You sighed contently, "You should come read Harry Potter to me." You whispered. You were in a daze, half asleep and unsure if this was real or not.

"Okay." Reid whispered, and waited a few seconds. When you didn't move, he reached under your head, and your legs. Then picked you up.

You woke with the sudden movement, "Sorry, you can put me down now." He set you down in the hallway, and you stumbled to your room. You pulled back the f/c blanket, and laid down. You patted the spot next to you, and he climbed in next to you.

You scooted closer to him, snuggling into his side. "Can you read to me please?" He nodded, not that you could see, but started reading.

""Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."" He started playing with your hair mindlessly, lulling you to sleep even faster.

"Spence." You looked up at him, your eyes were droopy. He raised his eyebrows, asking you what was wrong. "Can you sleep in here, please?"

"Yeah, I will." He said gently. You nodded, and laid back down. You barely heard the rest of the first paragraph.

You were running through a hallway. The lights flashing. Someone was chasing you, screaming things at you. But you couldn't hear, it was like the words were blurred. You glanced back, he was right behind you. You tried to run faster, but when you turned back around, there was blood spattered everywhere. It made you stumble. The unsub caught up with you, tackling you to the floor. He grabbed onto your neck, and bashed your head into the ground-

You woke up with a jolt, terrified, in a cold sweat. You grabbed onto Spencer in pure reflex, waking him up. He sat up quickly, reaching over to turn the light on. It let off a soft light, and you saw the book on your bedside table with a bookmark in near the end.

"What's wrong?" He cupped your face in his hands, brushing your hair out of your face.

Your breathing was shallow, and your heart was racing. You were having a minor panic attack. "Spence," You breathed out, it was like you couldn't stop moving, you had to convince yourself you were safe. "I can't- I can't- I can't breathe." You were sweating, horrified that the unsub was going to find you.

He held you close, trying to soothe you. "I need you to breathe with me, Y/n." Your chest was heaving, you struggled to get your breathing under control. You nodded, and tried to breathe with him as he showed you to breathe in and out. You were tugging at the bottom of your shirt, until Spencer grabbed your hands in his and started covering them.

"You'll be alright," he whispered, pulling you close again. You had calmed down, now silent tears were falling down your face. You were just trying to listen to the sound of his heart beating.

"Do you want to talk about it? Talking about your feelings actually have positive effects. Talking leads to Catharsis, which is the feeling of relief." He toys with your hair while you tell him about the nightmare. "I'm so sorry."

He pulled away from you, looking at you. "I just want you to know, I will never let that happen to you." You pulled him back to you, you probably looked like a mess. "What time is it?"

"It's one in the morning."

"Can we go back to sleep, please?" He nodded, and lay back, taking you with him. You sniffed. "Can you read, please?" He reached over to grab the book, and resumed reading.

"I'm on the last page, I hope you don't mind that I read ahead."

"Of course not, I'm surprised you didn't finish the entire series."

He laughed a little, then five minutes later, ""...I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer. . ."" You sighed, you were calm now. Still shook up from the nightmare, but calm.

"Do you have the nightmares often?" He whispered to you, tracing circles on your back.

"Yeah, almost every night." Your eyes were closed, and you were close to sleep. He lifted his head up, hesitated and laid back down.

Another ten minutes went by, you were nearly asleep when you heard Spencer say something. "You're my space dust." He sounded groggy, and you had convinced yourself he was sleep talking. But you still hoped.

You woke up to your alarm at seven-thirty. You were laying on top of Spencer, between his legs. "Sorry. Do you want me to drive you home so you can change?"

"How about we call in sick, it's just paperwork today." He sounded tired.

"Okay, I'll text Hotch." Though neither of you made a move to actually text him for another hour. When you did, he just smiled at his phone. The entire team had suspicions about the two of you, although you had never acted on it.

After, you both just laid there together, until you remembered what you thought you heard last night.

"Spencer?" You asked hesitantly.

"What's up, Y/n?" You were laying next to him, head on his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, which is weird. Because he's generally not very touchy.

"I think you said something last night. But I'm not sure that I heard you correctly..." You were timid, and you felt him tense up.

"W-what do you think y-you heard?" He stopped moving completely now, but you were very fidgety.

"I don't want this to ruin our friendship, but I thought I heard you say that I was your space dust. D-did you say that? Do you mean that- that..." You rambled on, just until Spencer interrupted you.

"Y/n." You stopped talking, and you both sat up. "I mean it like that." You sucked in a breath.

"I need to hear it." Your voice was shaky, and your throat was burning. But you didn't want to cry, you couldn't cry in front of him again.

He grabbed your hands in his, took a deep breath, and "Y/n, I-I love you." You couldn't help it, you pulled him to, and pressed your lips to his. It was like fireworks had gone off.

Your stomach was turning, Spencer had one hand on the back of your neck, and the other was holding one of yours. You had never kissed anyone and felt something deep inside you like this.

You pulled away from him, smiling. "You're my space dust too, Spence." And you gave him one last kiss before getting up and going to make breakfast

AHHHH IT'S FINISHED lmk if you like it

#spencer x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid fluff

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commanderserwin · 4 years

Text

— week 21 with levi ackerman.

✧ tags. fluff (in the beginning?), angst, bad language, slight nsfw, & descriptions of blood, weapons, and character death 🧍🏻‍♀️

✧ more. zombie apocalypse AU b/c why not?

✧ notes. ‘tis a word vomit and i have no idea why — just me and my small love for zombie movies and aus, so here goes! enjoy !!!

“Stay.”

Levi grumbled at how your arm and leg kept him captive on the bed, his hand finding your thigh— as he rolled his eyes, feeling your lips pepper kisses onto his jaw, and he loved it.

“One minute,” Levi turned his head, capturing your chapped lips onto his, his thumb playing with the waistband of your underwear, as he winked at you.

You laughed onto his shoulder, kissing the spot below his ear as you snuggled closer, closing your eyes as you breathed in the morning, greeting it with minute long cuddle and few kisses that painted your nose and forehead from the man laying beside you.

“Time’s up,” Levi groaned, feeling your hold on him tightening as you refused to let him go.

Levi let you hold on a minute longer again, kissing your temple as he counted to the last ten seconds, with the last as a smack to your thigh while you yelped loudly, a scowl forming on your lips but Levi kissed it away with no fail. He smiled at your morning dilemma, his heart bursting as you followed him behind him, a stomp on your feet as Levi made his way towards the kitchen.

He has always loved making breakfast with and for you and with your grumpy state made it all better. His hands instinctually made its way towards the kettle, flipping the mugs as he made tea and your preferred drink for the day— as he knew it like the back of his hand, and one look at your face. His basis was the frown on your lips, and it all dissolves as the steam from the hot water hits your face in a welcome delight.

“What time do you have to go to work?” You asked, taking a bite of his toast as you passed by him, grabbing a slice of your own.

“In two hours,” he responded, taking your seat as you settled into your office space, a little desk that he has set up for you. “What time do you have to get to work?”

“Now,” you winked, making kissy faces at him as you opened your laptop— ready to start the day facing the screen.

Levi nodded, finishing his breakfast as quietly as he could while you talked to your client— camera off that’s why you twirled around on your chair, watching Levi with teasing eyes. He shook his head, a blush washing on his skin as he caught glimpse of your eyes— but he’s got enough self-control to not fall for them, kissing your forehead as he made his way to the bathroom to start and get ready for his work.

Every morning was like clockwork already— and by the time he has come out of the bathroom, he would see you making a homemade lunch, while you continued to talk, moving your hands animatedly. He settled again on the kitchen table, graciously accepting his second cup of tea from you while the minutes flew by until it was time for him to go.

With a hug and a kiss, you walked Levi to the door, covering the mic from your earphones as you confessed your daily love, leaving the stoic man a blushing mess as he walked out of the door, a paperbag on his hand as he drove to work.

The day went by slowly, his own clients calling him as he watched the hours go by. He checked his phone multiple times, a text from you from hours ago, and he bombarded you as much as he could hide his phone whenever his boss would walk by.

Then something unusual happened— like straight out of a fucking movie.

The tall ceilings didn’t rumble, the streets did. The building has got thick walls and windows, withstanding few rainy days but what it didn’t withstand was the shrilling screams of people running towards each other— out of the cars, out of the building doors, as they watched others with a scream cut short.

“What the fuck,” Levi mumbled to himself, pushing the chair away as his hand fumbled with the phone, his thumb clicking your contact number with a nervous tap. “What the actual fuck?”

No answer.

His coworker bumped into him, cursing them with his eyes as he clicked on the notification— a news article from his phone. He skimmed it, his eyes rereading the words: blood, humans, trial gone wrong, infection, and the infected.

“Are they filming down the street?” Levi asked, holding the shoulders of his colleague, his eyes piercing through them as they stuttered incoherently, but they only pushed Levi away with a tear down their cheek.

His phone vibrated— your caller ID flashing and he fumbled to accept and finally, his mind has come into peace as he heard your voice amidst the chaos down the street. He walked closer to the windows, seeing flashes of dark liquid that he refuses to acknowledge that was blood.

Levi listened to shrill screams on your phone, and color drained from his face as it all sounded the same. It was noisy, it was full of screaming— agony until the last second that it lasted. He couldn’t help but worry about you, his hands fumbling with anything to keep him grounded. He clutched his phone tighter as usual, hearing your voice and never wanting to let go of it, of you.

“Levi, where are you?” You asked, double-locking the car as people rammed into your car, but you held on to the phone with such urgency as you listened to the other line. “Are you safe?”

“What do you mean, ‘Am I safe?’” Levi walked towards his cubicle, turning his monitor on as his office turned into its own secluded chaos, “I’m at work. Where are you?”

“Going home, I went to grab some groceries,” you answered, ducking your head below as you made use of the tint on the car windows.

Some elderly man slammed on to your trunk, making the car shake as cars honked loudly.

“I thought you had work? It’s only been a few hours.”

“My client rescheduled their telerehab. So I went to the store.”

“Okay,” Levi nodded, breathing through his nose, “Okay, listen.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“Did you lock the doors?” Levi asked, avoiding your question.

“Yes, I always lock the door.”

“And how far away from you from the apartment?”

“Ten minutes.”

“You have to walk.”

“I’m not walking!” You gasped, looking at the backseat where a couple of grocery bags were sitting, “And I’m not leaving the car!”

“Darling-,”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Levi raised his head, his eyes almost bulging from the updated news articles— and he really couldn’t believe his eyes.

The human trial from the nearby city had an outbreak. Their subjects resorting to death, but undead— zombified beings as infected blood ran through its course in their own bloodstream, affecting their brain and nervous system— paralyzed yet moving. Things— humans that doesn’t make sense.

Fucking zombies.

“You only call me darling when you are nervous.”

Levi arched his brow, breathing hard as he shut his monitor off. He looked down again, the streets covered in blood and bodies— and he backed away, the color from his already pale skin draining as he looked at the traffic block. It was going to take him an hour to usually get home— but with this mess, he has no idea if he could get there in a hour.

He wanted to go home.

“All right,” Levi breathed, his hold tightening on the phone, finally coming into terms with the movie-like situation. “Drive home. Carry whatever you think you will need inside the apartment. Grab the toolbox from the trunk. Get the food— anything essential inside.”

“You’re making me nervous,” you whispered, driving carefully away from the crowd as you took the longer route just to get home, “This whole thing is making me nervous.”

“Me too,” Levi murmured, grabbing his things from his cubicle as he grabbed whatever he could find that would be useful. “Don’t forget to lock the doors, do you hear me?”

“Lock the doors,” you repeated, driving a little faster as the roads were clear of any slosh of liquid and less bodies.

One mistake that you have done was stopping— the car coming into a halt as you watched the scene before you.

It was a little girl, her mouth dripping with her blood and mixed with whoever was dead on her hands. Her eyes were red, every vein dark underneath her dark skin, and stared right at your very being. With delicate steps, she moved closer, and you moved the car in reverse. But when she stood by your window, she slammed her hand on it, marking your window with her tiny hand.

Her handprint marked blood all over your car window— and you eyed at her victim. Perhaps her mother, as you guessed from the matching shirt. Her mother twitched— heavy and dark blood gushing out of her neck. She should’ve been dead, and should’ve stayed dead— but her fingers moved little by little, until she stayed upright, her eyes drilling into yours.

Every fiber of your body turned into dust, as you screamed, biting down on your hand as the little girl screamed with you, clawing her hand— but she couldn’t.

“What the fuck is happening?” Levi asked on the other line, his voice muffled as you dropped your phone. “Hey! Hey!”

“She was dead!” You screamed into the phone, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white, “She was dead and... she! There was blood everywhere... how is she alive?”

“Get out of there, darling,” Levi seethed at the situation, clenching his eyes shut as he focused on your voice, “Go!”

Finally, you gassed it, accelerating— feeling the car bump as you drove over the body, while you sweat for your very life. You placed the phone on loudspeaker, finding hope and solace through the curses of your significant other, focusing on his voice as it always calms you down. You counted his curses, finding a smile on your face and his new record of fifty bad words in a matter of minutes.

“Are you near the apartment?”

You nodded— agreeing a second later as the parking opened for you, and you held the phone near to your ear hoping it would close the distance between the two of you.

You wanted him home.

“I'm home already, get here now.”

“Good,” Levi ran down the stairs, towards the garage. He spotted his car, jumping on it instantly, “Wait for me.”

“Come home,” you sobbed, fumbling with the house keys as you opened the door— finding power to carry all the things in one go. “I love you. You have to come home, okay?”

“I love you,” Levi kissed you through the phone, an edge of a smile forming on his mouth as you chuckled-sobbed, “Don’t cry. Don’t go out, I’ll be home in a while.”

That was the last thing Levi has said to you.

His voice echoing in your memory, distant and near as you waited, and waited.

He didn’t make it home that day, and you waited for hours, until the suns changed and the moon waved for a new awful morning as screams made its way towards the quiet apartment. The moment that you hit home, you charged your phone, anything that will be used to communicate, even scrounging for Levi’s radio that he insisted on keeping, and with the mention of your beloved, your body shook in sobs as you tried to reattach yourself from what was happening as you waited for him.

You should have contacted him every minute and every hour— asking where the hell he is, but the mocking message of an unattended phone sang into your ears. Until all signal towers came down— no phone, no lines, no television, nothings. And all you could do was fucking wait, and you have waited too long that food has been stale for a while— days, weeks, months and you closed off from everybody. Yet, you didn’t move. The sofa has become your bed, a hand on the hilt of a knife as the other clutched the pillow while you slept in a shallow slumber— dreaming of when he would be home and what people have become.

The door and the carpet tainted red, your blood mixed with whoever tried to pried your door open. The handle was broken, and you repaired it as best as you could with Levi’s commanding voice echoing in your head.

Everything revolved around Levi— and you still wonder where he was.

Days, weeks, and months since he made that promise, and as each day goes by— it becomes ruined and broken, your life breaking down slowly as hope washed itself away, leaving you alone with nothing but a wish for him to still be there.

Another wish to whatever innocence is left within you and him.

The walkie-talkie became your friend— going on and off as you tried to catch a glimpse of whatever or whoever would be there to answer call, but nobody responded to the static buzz.

“I’m running out of water,” you coughed, counting ten small water bottles.

You were running out of everything as the long months drained your supplies.

And so you made a promise to yourself— get out of the apartment, find more food and water, and look for him.

If he couldn’t find his way to you— maybe it was best to find him yourself.

Week One: you started from scratch as you left the apartment. What you had was Levi’s large backpack which contained all your food, and water, a few pair of underwear and clothes, your dead phone, a wrench and a knife, and the walkie-talkie.

Week Two: you stayed in the car, a bad fucking move as an infected person broke your windshield, as they heard you crying. You ran them over— and it that makes them your second death.

Week Three: you saw an empty deli store. You went in— further and further into the back but the door opened and came a big dead man running but you placed a wrench on their big dead head.

Week Four: you were farther from the city. The signs becoming a maze to understand, words illegible as it was covered in blood.

Week Five: you passed by where Levi was working by. The car stopped, sputtering its last gas as you bid goodbye— but seeing Levi’s car, abandoned. With a heavy hand, you destroyed the window, seeing the keys stuck into the ignition as Levi’s briefcase collected dust on the backseat. There was no sign of him, as you left a note and a few tears as you broke down— biting down on your hand because you had to mourn in silence.

Week Six: you carried Levi’s briefcase for a week, but you left it as it became too heavy for you to carry. The only thing that you kept was the little pin on his briefcase— the one that he says that reminds him of you.

Week Seven: your shoes broke down, and comes your fourth death.

Week Eight: fifth death.

Week Nine: the winds grew a little colder, and you find shelter inside a car, the smell rotted as you later found a hand on the backseat.

Week Ten: you were tired, and comes the sixth victim.

Week Eleven: your mind was fucking with you, and you brushed it away.

Week Eleven: it was a dream— and that was the result of sleeping in a stupid store where mirrors all perfectly stood, every glimpse a fucking joke. A sick joke that is— because the mirrors reflected him.

Week Eleven: Levi’s here.

Levi crushed you into a hug, his hair somewhat long yet his face stayed smooth— a few mentions of stubble but it was him. His body felt so familiar that you found yourself curling for his warmth, for the security, for the home that he was.

Levi thought, he’s finally home. He’s found you.

Nobody spoke for a few minutes— unbelieving of what was happening. If you were alive. If he was alive. If that was you. If that was really him. The only thing that was said in those minutes were tears and quivering chins as Levi fumbled with his fingers— holding on to you as you pulled him close.

“Are you going to eat me?” You quietly asked, cupping his cheeks, as you checked his grounding eyes for any evident him.

“Stop with that,” Levi kissed your cheek, hugging you tight again.

His kiss felt like the sweet drops of wine, color finding its way towards the dark hues, as you leaned on his touch— tired yet there. The feelings that blossomed on your chest was huge, almost drowning you again into your sorrows but Levi pulled you back again, and it brought you to tears.

“I waited!” You suddenly cried, curling your knees to your chest as you felt Levi’s arms anchor you to reality, “I waited, Levi! You told me... you told me to wait and that you were coming home.”

“I know,” Levi breathed, cradling your head as you drove him to tears— making him shudder in regret and anger, but it all turned to smoke because you were there and so was he.

But everything felt flat— the hues darkening once more. Tough love— survival at the cost of one’s innocence, but it was there. Levi brought your face to his eyes as he looked for you somewhere deep within the months that you were alone and scared.

And you were still there, fleeting but there.

Love stayed the same while hope tarnished.

Joy pooled at your eyes— the very ones that he would look into, from the moment he would wake up in your bed with the light brushing your skin, and as he closed his eyes, a smile gracing your lips as the day ended. Fleeting but there.

Levi held your hand, carrying the bag as he guided you to his secured spot. He looked back and forth, breathing a little easier as he locked the doors behind him. It was a small family mart, aisles and racks empty with crusting blood and shredded skin, but safe.

In the morning, he woke up with your arms around him— just before. Just like that morning. His lips turned to yours as your very habit stayed the same, your voice carrying himself to agree with nothing but a kiss again on your lips. Levi found himself wrapping his leg around you, flushing you on his chest as he peppered kisses on to your nape while you chuckled softly— prying his arms.

“One minute,” Levi kissed your ear, nuzzling his cheek against your shoulder as you turned around in his embrace.

His grey eyes comforted you, carrying a hint of love and life while you allowed yourself to be hugged, relishing the way he feels after almost a year of him being gone and found again.

A year of it— and nobody spoke about what actually happened that night.

Infected. Infectious diseas. Blood. A human trial gone wrong.

Zombies— like the goddamn movies.

“Will you make me toast,” you whispered, asking him as you placed a hand over his chest— holding on to him and the memory of when it was good, like it was now.

“I believe what I only have are crackers,” Levi whispered in your ear, kissing your nose as your eyes fluttered open once more— and he took you in.

By the way your hair turned greasy, by the way the clothes on your back became ripped and drenched in dried blood, by the way your chapped morning lips stayed the same, by the way your face still contorts into his favorite smile.

“Has my darling turned cheap?”

“God.” Levi rolled his eyes, kissing your cheek numerous times as he finally caught on your dislike for the pet name.

“Now you understand how I feel when you call me darling?” You laughed, placing as much distance as Levi attacked you with tickles and kisses, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he breathily agreed.

Then, he stopped.

Bodies still tangled with each other— and you listened. Nothing was walking by the store, no slosh of liquid echoed into the empty street.

“Listen.” Levi murmured on your lips, his eyes closing as you saw him through the corners of your eyes— and you closed your eyes too, “Listen. This is my favorite part of my morning.”

After a few still minutes, your face lit up in tears, “Birds.”

“Don’t they sound beautiful?”

You opened your eyes to see him staring right at you, his eyes tired yet happy. Levi pushed away your tears, pecking your forehead.

That was the only time that you’ve realized that the tree beside your apartment housed a nest that Levi always prepared worms by the windowsill and that the birds always woke the both of you.

A new start— but this time after a broken heart, you were glad to start the day again with him.

Week Twelve: he always held your hand whenever the both of you would walk. His hand clutched yours that you even complained that it was too tight— but Levi would only kiss your palm and would loosen it.

Week Thirteen: Levi found an empty bodega, making the makeshift beds again, and he held you through the night as you cried, telling him the victims you have killed. That week marked your seventh kill.

Week Fourteen: he was drenched in blood because doesn’t want you to add another one to your list. Levi killed three instantly, and when you asked him how many has he killed, his eyes turned lifeless for a second, until he whispered— “Let’s not talk about it.”

Week Fifteen: you practiced with Levi as he gave you more effective tips to efficiently mark for the kill. He disagreed first, but he confessed later on that he was sick of it.

“I don’t want to kill one more,” he whispered into the dark as both of you listened to the loose footsteps outsides— daunting to add one more. Just one more. His hand found yours in the dark, turning his head to you as he pulled you to his side of the makeshift bed, whispering once more.

“I’ll take care of it,” and you marked the dead teenager as your eighth.

Week Sixteen: Levi found some tester bottles of perfume on clothes store— surprising you as it was the one that sits on your dresser, making you bawl into your hands as the scent brought back too many memories. He sprayed some on to his skin, making you even cry but he kissed your tears away— his eyes later turning into a shade darker.

His mouth found yours into a fervor that night, silent moans and groans echoing in the same bodega as Levi made love to you— and you him under the gaze of the daring moonlight, bodies moving slowly and sensual, hands finding each other, lips swollen as Levi kept you quiet with his own.

“Levi,” you moaned, feeling the coils of your stomach tighten— hips hitting together as his thrusts became lazy, his thumb finding your folds while you squealed.

“Be quiet,” Levi grunted against your mouth, his tongue grazing your lower lip as he held your hips down, watching you with hooded eyes with the way your back arch— face nodding.

“Fuck—,” you breathed, running your nails on his back as his thumb found your clit, driving you to oblivion as he felt your walls flutter around him. “Fu— Levi-,”

He lost himself, thrusting harder and deeper, listening to the lewd sloppy sounds as he felt your slick cover his length, groaning as your walls fluttered again— as his breathy voice moaned your name over and over again like a song that he would gladly sing over and over again.

Week Seventeen: Levi plucked a grass from in between the cracks of the sidewalk as he gave it to you. In return, you surprised him with a loose tea bag with lukewarm water and he accepted it happier than ever.

“I love you,” Levi murmured, cupping the thermos, bringing his lips to the edge for the first drink of his year that was made by you.

“Me or the tea?” You asked, munching on breakfast as you tilted your head to your partner with a teasing smile on your face.

Levi answered your question with an attack of kisses on your cheeks and neck— making you giggle until he held you steady with his hands on your waist, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around him, breathing him in as he snuggled into the crook of your neck— your shirt becoming wet from each other’s tears.

Week Eighteen: you cut Levi’s hair, using a broken razor as he listed his instructions with his wavering voice as he looked right at you through the mirror. Levi admitted that it was the best haircut he has ever gotten, even when his bangs were choppy.

In return to find another space, comes your ninth.

Levi hesitated as the undead little girl that you saw from the day slowly walked over to him with a sinister smile. She marked as your tenth, and you mumbled a little prayer for the mother and the daughter that you have killed before and now.

In the evening, he held you close and dear, your shirt turning wet as he angrily cried but you only shushed him gently— “I’ll take care of it always.”

Week Nineteen: he turned to you in his sleep, fluttering his eyes open as you groggily reached for him. You kissed the sleep back on to him, giggling through the kisses as he tried to capture your lips with a failed mission.

On the last day, marks your eleventh kill.

Week Twenty: it was another sick fucking joke.

“Give me a minute.”

“Go.”

“Give me a fucking minute!”

Levi closed his mouth as his chest heaved heavily, his hands wrapping around his leg, unsuccessfully stopping the gush of blood that painted his skin and clothes dark red— and yet in whatever pain that he was in, he gave you a minute.

He has always given you a minute, spare— lots of it, but now he can’t risk it.

Not one spare second because he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

Levi watched you with careful eyes as you murmured to yourself, eyes closed as tears fell angrily at the corners of your eyes. He looked away, his eyes straining at the pain, and when he finally opened his eyes— he saw you looking straight at him with bright and hopeful eyes.

“We could... we could,” you stuttered, hands pressing into his wound to stop his breathing as Levi nodded, listening, “the best thing that we could do is cut your leg off.”

“It’s already in my bloodstream,” Levi whispered, the blood never stopped flowing no matter the pressure.

“You don’t know that,” you smiled— cried, wiping away your tears.

Levi shook his head. He breathed hard, inhaling and exhaling at the way his body turned into something sinister, watching his veins darken under his pale skin, but weakly pulled his sleeves down, as you watched closely. Your eyes were still filled with innocence— and after everything that you have been through, he wanted to preserve an ounce of it, for himself and for you.

That’s why you needed to go.

“Please,” Levi sighed, closing his eyes as he counted in his mind. Perhaps in a few seconds, the blood vessels in his eyes would pop, his sclera gone dark, “Please.”

The feeling of his warm hand covered yours and you pushed away the thoughts that came next as he heaved, controlling the minimal thrashing of his body. Levi nudged your chin, holding it form as he opened his eyes— and you tried to focus on how it looked like before.

Grey and nice, warm and soft, everything that you have loved, everything that he said, everything that was him— Levi.

“I want you to stand up,” Levi coughed, leaning on to the wall as you helped him. His hand found his spare gun and knife, as he pushed them to you gently. “I want you to get up. I want you to go.”

“You’re asking me the impossible,” you whispered, hand loosening from his wound as Levi blinked, his breath staggering.

“But it is for the best.”

“I can’t lose you,” you breathed, cupping his cheeks as you wiped away the tears— the blood that ran through his beautiful face. “Not again.”

“I know.”

Levi smiled, wiping his hand on his pants to clean them— as he ran his knuckles on the apple of your cheeks, one last time. He soothed the furrow between your brows, he cupped your cheek, making you lean for his touch as you kissed the inside of his wrist, murmuring against his touch.

“I can’t lose you.” You whispered, looking at his wound.

He pushed you to the wall at the moment it happened— the infected person crawling quietly as it sunk its teeth on Levi’s leg, making him topple over but he killed it in a second— all to save you.

“Levi, I can’t lose you,” you repeated quietly, chest shaking as tears clouded your eyes, “Not again!”

He screamed from the agony, his chest constricting whatever air was left in his body, holding himself close as he bit down on his hand as it washed through him. He pushed his weapons to you hard, making you stumble over as he watched your figure crawl away from him, inch by inch— and the hunger inside him fought its way towards his mind as he longed for the flesh and blood that rests perfectly on your body.

Yet, one thing stays the same.

His lips turned blue, as you watched him carefully, his mouth turning— whispering his very words that would make your heart skip a beat, be the reason for the unending adoration and devotion between the two of you.

“I love you,” Levi mouthed, his hands aimless around his body— no longer fighting whatever was inside him.

“I love you,” you cried, the tears falling freely as you found yourself standing to the other wall, feeling the cold cement hit your skin as your fingers fumbled with the gun and knife.

For whatever cruel reason, life has beaten the air out of you, your mind escaping its own as you chose— suffocating you, strangling the love out of you as you pocketed the knife.

Your whole body shook quietly— crying silently. The chest-heaving kind, where everything made it so fucking difficult for you to breathe, when you didn’t want anybody to know that you were bawling your eyes out, hands almost scarred from how hard you bit it down. Betrayal for the one that you truly love ran straight to your core— as you chose.

Levi smiled as his eyes became red— proud of how steady your arms were as you raised the gun— just like how he taught you. With the last ounce of life in his body, he professed his love for you one last time, and the farewell that mourned for himself, his fate, and for you. His memories clouded into colors that he hasn’t seen before, mundane things and memories with you, the way your lips would turn up at the sight of him, the way your eyes would convey such a deep message— deepest as the ocean as he would always compare.

He felt the air become static in his skin, feel his heart stop, feel everything stop. His eyes opened, seeing the hesitation in your hands but he has to do this, and he pushed you to save you. He saw his life with you— and he has to say goodbye one last time. Levi used whatever he could muster, as he whispered, hearing the shot echo in the cold room.

“Stay away.”

#my mind’s kinda wonky now #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #levi x reader #levi imagines #levi imagine #aot imagine #aot imagines #snk imagine #snk imagines #attack on titan image #attack on titan imagines #aot fanfiction

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megalony · 4 years

Text

We have to go

I know I’ve been absent for a few weeks but I’ve finally managed to get an imagine done. This is a murderer! Ben Hardy imagine that I might do a follow up part for if you all like it. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @tabsispage @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben is a hitman and that means he has to be careful that he doesn’t put his family at risk. That means that when he is in danger, they have to move, sometimes in the dead of night.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) tiredly fluttered her eyes open, blinking to adjust to the darkness of the room before she slowly started to scan her eyes around for Ben. Her brain was so accustomed to being woken up in the night or early morning due to her husband that any noises she heard no longer set off her anxiety. It was normal to hear him looking around for his keys, his belt or his clothing when he got up early or came home late. And (Y/n) was no stranger to listening to him stumbling home from a late night, smelling of booze and crawling into bed and wrapping himself around her like a vine.

But as she slowly looked around for him, (Y/n) started to wake up a bit when she noticed Ben was moving around the room rather quickly. He was clearly moving things by the way (Y/n) could hear clothing being ruffled and items being picked up and discarded like tissue.

What was he up to?

There was no time for (Y/n) to try and formulate any words or sit herself up in bed before her heart jumped in her chest as she was suddenly staring into her husband's wild eyes. Ben was crouched down in front of the bed, his arms folded on the edge of the bed and his chin resting on his arm and (Y/n) could barely make out the small tight-lipped smile on his lips through the darkness of their shared bedroom.

"Hey baby. Sorry to wake you darlin' but I need you to get up cause we got a lot to do." Ben's voice was quiet as he knew (Y/n) had only just woken up due to him rushing around the room and he knew he would be confusing her but he needed her to be awake before he even began to explain what was going on.

He leaned forward and stole a quick but very desperate kiss from her lips, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth before he pulled back and pushed himself to his feet.

A groan escaped (Y/n)'s lips when Ben flicked on the bedside lamp before he went back to doing whatever he had been doing that woke her up. (Y/n) couldn't fathom what was happening but all she did know was that Ben was in his organised panic mood. When Ben had to get things done he made sure he did it but when it was something panicking him he started to get a bit shakey and moved and talked quicker than normal like life was moving on fast forward setting.

Ben was never a settled man, it didn't matter if he was oddly calm or if he was always thinking about something, he had to be moving and doing something. He liked to organise and reorganise the house, it helped him calm down and get his mind in order and he liked a clean tidy house more than (Y/n) did so when he was home he got to work. Sitting down to watch a movie was something he couldn't always do but he did try and relax, it just didn't seem to be in his nature.

"Ben... what are you doing?" (Y/n) slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position that made her head spin considering she had only just woken up. She wanted to go back to sleep, she wanted Ben to crawl into bed and sleep with her or even for him to just babble about his day and draw patterns on her skin until he dozed off. She just wanted to sleep rather than wake up and work out what he was doing now.

(Y/n) could feel her heart starting to pound against her ribcage in a way that made her body coil forward itch from how uncomfortable the feeling was. Ben was stuffing clothing into bags. He was packing up their stuff in a haphazard kind of way that (Y/n) had seen before.

"Ben..."

The way she slowly said his name with a warning tone caused him to momentarily stop what he was doing to look at her.

"We need to go."

Those four little words were enough to force a whine past (Y/n)'s lips and make tears well up in her eyes without her even having to know the reasons behind Ben's words. In the six years that (Y/n) had been with Ben, she had heard those words a dozen times and she knew instantly that this was going to be a bad one.

Whenever Ben said those words it meant one of two things. It either meant that something had gone wrong with a deal or a fight and they would have to go away for a few days or weeks and then come back home. Or it was more serious and meant they would have to take everything and move homes altogether. (Y/n) hated when it meant they had to move and that had happened three times in the six years she had been with Ben. She knew what he did, she knew he was a hitman and that it meant killing people for large sums of money.

Ben loved what he did and he knew what kind of a man that made him. It made him a monster for killing people who either deserved to be killed or simply needed to be killed to fit someone else's plans and life. Ben was good at what he did and he had the kind of conscience where killing people didn't play on his mind at all, he felt no remorse for what he did. Despite being a family man and being someone who would go to the ends of the Earth to keep his family safe, Ben was a killer at heart.

But none of that mattered to (Y/n) because she always saw the other side to Ben. She saw the kind, loving and caring man who would do anything for her without her having to ask. She saw the man who smiled at her when she did nothing at all, the man who would wrap himself around her and just hold her because he wanted to feel her touch. (Y/n) saw a man who would do absolutely anything for her and for their children and that made her uncaring to what he did for a living.

But part of what Ben did meant that he had to have a normal home life, or as normal of one as he could manage. If people believed he was a good family man like he actually was, then they were less likely to believe that he was a cold blooded killer.

(Y/n) was fine with that. She was fine with creating a perfect family image for Ben because it was what she wanted, she wanted a loving family and Ben was a loving husband and father despite the cruel and heartless ways he killed people without even needing a reason to clear his conscience. But (Y/n wanted to have a home that she could decorate and make feel like it was theirs that they didn't have to uproute and leave when things went wrong. (Y/n) wanted to live somewhere where she had friends and family to talk to and be around, she wanted their boys to grow up in one place and have a permanent school rather than going to different schools and nurseries whenever things went wrong.

Leaving within a few days was okay, (Y/n) could deal with quickly packing things up and moving within a space of a week. That was okay, (Y/n) took at least three months to decorate each home they had in case they had to quickly move. She left items in boxes and essentials in easy places or bags in cupboards so if Ben did something bad they didn't have to run around and look for everything to pack up.

But they had been in this house for two years.

Billy had been born in this house and (Y/n) had it decorated lovely, they had nice neighbours for a change who weren't nosy or rude or creepy. (Y/n) had a lot of old friends in this neighbourhood and it wasn't a bad area to live in. She wanted this to be their home and to stay their home, she didn't want to take another long drive to a random destination and find a new home and start again.

Ben knew this.

Ben knew (Y/n) wanted a normal family life and a permanent home and he wanted that for her too. Before he met her Ben had a few flings and one night stands but had been dead set against being a family man because it would be too hard with his job. Then (Y/n) walked into his life and changed his outlook completely. She made him fall madly in love with her without having to do anything at all. They had two boys together and Ben loved when he came home and switched to being a normal family man, it made him so close to changing his job to something normal and reliable and more to the point, legal.

But he couldn't do that, deep down he would never be able to change that much so he did everything in his power to make their family normal, loving and happy.

"No. Ben we can deal with this... we'll call Joe or we'll just go for a week or two and say it's a holiday, Ben please." (Y/n) rubbed her hands over her face as she tried to think of anything they could do without really knowing what had gone on. She didn't want to move, they couldn't move right now it was bad timing, it was so bad.

"Baby, baby look at me." Ben moved until he was sat down on the bed next to (Y/n) so he could take her hands in his own. "Someone in connection to one of my old targets is here. Now they know me and if they find out about my last target they will put two and two together. This was always a risk and I need us to move before they spot me and things get ugly."

"Can't we just go for a few weeks-"

"I can't take that risk babydoll. My last target was an hour away from this town, that was close enough to home as it is and if someone says my name around here or this person sees me it will be a lot worse. I need us to be safe cause this person is dangerous and therefore we have to go. I've got a place sorted for now and then we'll search for a permanent place soon I promise."

Ben had targets, they were the people he killed because using names or any other tags made it too real for him and for (Y/n). Targets seemed easier, it was hard to imagine a person as a target. Sometimes in order to kill people Ben had to get close or talk to people who were close to his targets and that meant he took the risk of them recognising him. If this person recognised him and found out about someone who had been murdered an hour away from Ben's hometown it would be suspicious and Ben knew this man would know enough to suspect Ben of being a killer.

His first priority was his family and that meant that if someone was threatening their safety Ben uprooted them to keep them all safe. He also made sure he didn't take any jobs for at least two months in order to make sure things blew over and quietened down.

Ben could see the tears forming in (Y/n)'s eyes and it made his stomach churn to see her so cut up. He let go of her hands so he could hold onto her hip and cup her face with his free hand. His thumb smoothed over her cheek to brush away a stray tear before he leaned close and pressed his forehead against her own like he was trying to merge their thoughts together. Ben knew (Y/n) would eventually be okay with this, once they found a house she adored they would buy it and decorate it until it was perfect and Ben would do everything he could to make sure it was a forever home for them.

But right now he just had to move them all to keep them safe.

"We can't do a midnight flit, Ben. The boys... they won't understand, it'll be hard to move everything like it always is. And the baby..."

(Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her temple more against Ben's as she wished this was just a bad dream she was going to wake up from at any moment.

The boys were five and two, they weren't going to understand why they were leaving in the middle of the night and not going back to the place they knew to be their home. They would be confused, leaving their friends behind and going to a new home, a new school where they would have to make new friends and get used to a new school system. It would be a lot for them to take in, the last time they had moved Billy hadn't even been born but it was a lot for Harvey to cope with since he had only been three at the time.

Billy had been born in this house, (Y/n) had hoped that was a sign that this might be their forever home and she wanted this baby to be born in this home too. She wanted to get through this pregnancy without anymore problems or worries happening to make everything turn upside down.

Ben knew this was bad timing, he had been afraid of something like this happening and he wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't the only option he had right now. (Y/n) had suffered a miscarriage when Billy had only been ten months old, it had been a short time between his birth and getting pregnant again only for (Y/n) to lose the baby and suffer a very bad haemorrhage which hospitalized her for a week. That traumatic event had panicked Ben because it had taken a toll on (Y/n) and Ben couldn't take any jobs for four months because he had to look after (Y/n) and the boys.

They had finally gotten to a better point in their lives where the boys were fine, their relationship was great and (Y/n)'s depression caused by the miscarriage was under control. Learning they were pregnant again had been a worry and a shock and (Y/n) had been scared of losing this baby too.

Ben didn't want to uproot their family right now when (Y/n) had been put on bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy due to complications. He didn't want to take any risks when it came to this baby because (Y/n) losing another baby would kill her too and she was his whole world. But if he didn't move them all now he risked someone finding out about him and either the police would get involved or it would get a lot worse and he would have the risk of his family being put in harms way.

"I know, I know it's shit timing baby but we have to go now. I'm gonna go pack the car and I'll try and keep the boys asleep and move them to the car. You know the drill, doll."

He pressed another longing kiss to (Y/n)'s temple, carding his fingers through the hair at the back of her head before he slowly pulled away and stood to his feet. Whenever this happened, and it had only happened three times before, they had a drill to go through. They packed clothing, paperwork, money and any other essentials into backpacks and carry on bags to stuff into the car and then Ben or Joe would come back to the house in a few days and clear it out. They took the essentials and came back for everything else when it was clear and Ben would sort out the house in terms of cancelling the rental and cutting off the electric and giving back the keys.

A sigh escaped (Y/n)'s lips as she rubbed at her eyes that were so desperate to shed tears but she had no effort or will to cry. She was too tired and numb to cry no matter how badly she felt she needed to in order to feel better.

(Y/n) tried to busy herself getting dressed but she kept stopping and staring at the wall in front of her or finding her eyes locked onto Ben, watching his every movement. He had managed to rather neatly pack their clothes into two carry on bags within minutes and was now kneeling down at the foot of the bed in order to get the dark grey box he always kept there.

(Y/n) watched the way Ben's silver chain around his neck hung forward like a medallion trying to show him some kind of sign. The silver ring that hung so neatly at the end of the chain was slowly swaying back and forth, repeatedly tapping against Ben's chest each time it fell back towards him. With what Ben did for a living, he knew it was best to keep his wedding ring around his neck so no one could see it. If people did end up finding him and knowing what he did then at least they wouldn't know he was married and had a family.

It had only now dawned on (Y/n) that Ben was only wearing his black work jeans and nothing else, no shirt, no hoodie, not even any socks. She wondered what he had been doing before he woke her up, maybe he had gotten blood on his clothes and therefore had washed them or even binned them. Maybe he worked himself into a state and stripped off in a hot flush which had happened a few times before. Maybe he had been in the midst of changing clothes and felt he had to pack up before he finished getting dressed.

Without his shirt it allowed all of Ben's marks and tattoos to be on display, not that (Y/n) hadn't already gotten each one memorised so that when she closed her eyes she could still see a map of his body.

There was something about Ben's look that was so calming and affectionate despite the many marks covering his skin. He had scars littering his skin from where knives had cut through him during bad and drunken fights in the dead of night, he never seemed to go a single day without bruises of some sort forming somewhere on his person. And the tattoos he had made his body look like a road map. Ben had dates inked into his skin of when the boys had been born and the date of when he had married (Y/n), plus a few designs on his arms and his lower abdomen.

Ben had roman numerals tattooed onto each knuckle on both hands and he had the same design on the back of his neck in large black ink. All of these marks would normally warn people away from him, they made him look dangerous and as if he was a threat or just made him intimidating. But (Y/n) always seemed to overlook all the marks and the ink, it was as if the colours faded and she just saw the person Ben was. He seemed to loving and inviting to everyone despite his outlook.

(Y/n)'s staring didn't go unnoticed by Ben, he could feel her eyes boring into his skin like she was trying to burn him with her intense gaze but he paid no mind to her staring. It was something (Y/n) naturally seemed to do and it never bothered him.

He found the box under the bed that he had been searching for and when he took off the lid, he started placing all the documents into the small backpack he had gotten ready. The grey box was something they took everywhere with them, it contained their passports, the boys' birth certificates, their insurance numbers and documents. But it also held a plastic wallet filled with fake documents. Ben had fake passports, driving licenses, insurance numbers and legal documents created so that if things got tricky they could switch identities in emergencies.

It was harder now they had the boys because they couldn't go changing the boys' names and think that they would understand but Ben had to have the documents made just in case a new identity was needed.

He also kept a lot of money and credit cards stashed away because when they had to disappear like this, cash was the best way to pay for things because it couldn't be tracked like a credit card could.

Breaking out of her trance, (Y/n) slowly padded across the carpet to where Ben was knelt down in front of the bed. Without saying anything, she held her hand out to her husband who placed two credit cards, a driving licence and an unknown amount of cash into her hand. (Y/n) knew the drill, she would place all of those items into the seam of her handbag so if they got stuck or had to improvise, she could take them out of the hidden seam and start using them.

She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Ben's temple before she headed out of the room and quietly made her way downstairs. They had to be quick but they couldn't be too loud in case they woke the boys.

It felt like they were both in a trance or placed on autopilot because they knew what they were doing. The first time this happened they had been rushing around like headless chickens trying to remain calm. They had talked about what they would do if this situation ever happened but actually going through it was a lot different. But now it was a drill, it was a fire drill and they had to do what they always did to make sure everything went smoothly.

The couple bypassed one another in the hall and when going up or down the stairs to get the bags to pack the car.

(Y/n) went into Harvey's room and Ben went into Billy's room, both of them working in the darkness to pack up their son's clothes, essential toys that they couldn't go without and the bits such as bottles and beakers and nappies.

"Double-check there isn't anything you need to take tonight then go get in the car, I'll get the boys." Ben rested his hands on (Y/n)'s shoulders, slowly massaging his fingers into her skin before he turned and made his way into Harvey's room.

Ben grabbed a pair of socks and sat down on the end of Harvey's bed, slowly moving the cover so he could slide the socks onto his eldest boy's feet so he wouldn't get cold. He pulled the navy blue fluffy blanket from the end of the bed and was carful when wrapping it around his son before he effortlessly eased Harvey from the bed. His look-alike stayed motionless and in a sleeping state just like Ben expected, nothing every seemed to wake Harvey up, not even a thunderstorm or an earthquake.

He hated to do this.

Ben hated himself as he walked down the stairs, holding his son to his chest tighter with every step he went down. He didn't want to imagine how the conversation would go when the five year old woke up to realise he was no longer at home but was in the car driving to a new home in a new town. But it had to be done, and this was easier than waking Harvey and trying to explain everything to him right now.

It didn't take long for Ben to kneel in the car and slowly settle Harvey into his car seat with the blanket still tucked around him and his rabbit toy cocooned under his arm. Ben made sure the small emergency light in the front of the car was switched off for now so it wouldn't wake Harvey who couldn't stand any lights on in his room when he went to sleep.

He made his way back into the house and up to Billy's room, slipping a pair of socks onto the two year old and a jumper to make sure he stayed warm before he wrapped Billy's sleeping blanket around him and cradled him in the crook of his left arm.

Ben felt his heart jumping in his chest when Billy curled up into his chest, sighing as he tucked his face into Ben's side in his sleep. This was why Ben was doing this, he couldn't have anything happening to (Y/n) or their boys, he couldn't have them in danger because of him.

When Billy was curled up in his car seat safe and sound, Ben headed back inside, doing a double check of the house to make sure the essentials were in the car and all that was left were the decorations and household items that didn't need to be taken with them. He could see the pain in (Y/n)'s eyes as she looked around the house whilst pulling her cardigan tighter around her frame to fight out the bitter old of the early morning.

"I'm sorry, doll."

"I know. But can we just... try and make the next one a bit more permanent?" (Y/n) looked up at Ben with tired eyes that softened like melting chocolate when Ben wound his arms around her waist so he could pull her closer to his chest.

"We will, I promise. And this is just a precaution, I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't to keep you all safe. We have a good cover up, anyway." Ben inched his hand under (Y/n)'s cardigan until the palm of his hand was resting against the side of her stomach.

He was only moving them for their safety, and their family was the best cover they could ask for. They had two young boys and a baby on the way, no one was going to think they were anything but an ordinary, loving family.

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #murderer! ben #dad! ben #BoRhap #imagine #pregnant! reader

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lorddistancebarry · 3 years

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Forest In Chains - Chapter 1

"500, 600, 700, 800, 900.." Garcello counts the cash in his hands after he was given the bag of money. After Tabi fell and didn’t get back up from the half-giant cutting loose and throwing him through the cage into the left most stands of the audience. After the red haze cleared. After basically running with fire and panicking the entire way. He still feels the burns and cuts on his arms, chest and face from Tabi's strikes. The bruising deciding to make itself known by the numbness hidden via his bangs on the left side of his face. The wounds just adding on in a pile especially when the reaper decided to stop fucking around and went all in... his body shivers as the pain compounds and the wind from the September season hits him while he sits on the bench waiting for the bus.

"You barely von that, child." a deep, voice spoke.

Garcello looks up and looks intrigued and surprised at who it belonged to.

"Ruv.." He noted looking up from his money and putting it away, quickly.

"You did not expect me?" He noted with a smirk,"Illegal fight, legal fight. I come to all, vatch them. Sarvente spoke of it being good move. I believe her."

The large Russian man walks over and sits down like a neighbor to Garcello on the bus stop. "But, I can go on many years speaking about her." Ruv noted,"Vhat about you, Young Smoke? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Garcello admits,"Just.. didn't expect to get cut and burned alive like I'm a fuckin piece of meat."

"Equalizers are not to be trifled vith. As gang or as fighters in vrestling circuit." Ruv chuckles,"Go to be undefeated, An equalizer gets sent, test you. It is cycle to see if you are actually good or you are veak bitch."

"Well, was i actually good?" Garcello laughs wryly,"Cause i feel like shit."

"No, you vere lucky, you use your strength. You are shit, but vorkable shit. Trainable." Ruv critiques as he takes out his vodka flask from his jacket. "So.. you're going to train me?" Garcello asked looking up as Ruv drinks. "Vin against Agoti or Vhitty." He directs looking to Garcello stoically,"Then I teach you. I vant to see if your are vorth time."Ruv takes another drink from his flask. Garcello takes out one of his cigarettes and lights it. A green light illuminates at the end as he inhales, steam and smoke coalesces and flares outward into a glowing green, mist smoke hybrid. "I see." He nods once,"And if I am worth your time?" "I train you.break you, see vhat you.. really are. Then ve progress from there." Ruv stated looking to Garcello with his lone, glossy eye. Almost seeming to look through Garcello and into him.Garcello shivers looking back. Friend? Enemy? "I see." He gets up as the bus is rolling up."Well for now.. I'm gonna get dinner and go home. Thanks for checking up on me." "Anytime. I do not like promising student, be jumped by Equalizer scum." Ruv chuckles with a grin. Garcello pales a bit, "Uh... what?" Ruv looks to the fellow titan with an incredulous stare,"You scraped out vin, but you also humiliated Tabi. Young Reaper vill vant revenge..." The Russian raises an eyebrow,"You did not expect that?" "But you beat some of the Equalizer's asses and you didn't get jumped!" Garcello points out as the whir of steam leaving the bus' brakes occurs and the door's open. "That is because of grace of God and grace of throwing truck across street." Ruv laughs wryly,"Now go, child. Before you are stuck here." Garcello waves Ruv off before getting on the bus and using his bus card. A satisfied beep of payment as he moves. Knowing the timer, he sits down quickly before the bus moves with a hiss of the breaks lifting from the ground and the bus hovers, flying down the roads and over ground locked travel.He looks out the window at the night sky and at the many lights below of Funk City. Advertisements, cars, city signs, street lights. Garcello lets his mind wander at the light pollution and the sound of hover cars flying by. Its mesmerizing. Watching everything just fly, zip, and zop by. Time could pass as the colors of the city and the energy takes him in. The concept when he was young had never gotten old or changed. The colors of the world, the lifeblood of the people moving, growing and just living. This is why he and his mother had migrated here. Such a decision had to be lived through not just decided on a whim. But this.. This wholesome peace and tranquility at this time. Away from the violence, the darkness and the weight of it all... Was a very big deciding factor. "One day... they will be able to feel this way.." Garcello resolves quietly as he looks down through the window to the city below. "Feel so.. free..." He coos starting to let the pain and tiredness get to him. Starting to fall asleep on the bus and get complacent in his space... until a growling, gurgling reminder makes itself painfully known in his core. The tender flesh of wounds on his abdomen only make it worse. His body went through hell.

It wants food, it needs it. He needs it. NOW. "First.... step... free myself." he grumbles softly as pain burns in his core and it forces him out of falling asleep and dragging on. Sitting up properly and starting to search for a close enough bus stop so he doesn't just add more suffering with a long as fuck walk that only lengthens the burning. Finding one, he pulls on the wire that signals the automated system to stop. The bus stops after a bit before landing with the soft 'woosh' of steam. Getting off the bus, he walks down the streets. Looking up to keep track of his own placement on the road, looking down to light a cigarette to ease some of the pain, looking back up now to search for those heavenly golden arches. After a minute, 6 cigarettes later.. the yellow and red light beams down upon his form. At this point, a soft, barely noticeable film of red covers everything and everyone that walks by and every sensation, smell and taste is heightened. Painfully so. "Finally..." he exhales, dry air hitting a watering, near drooling maw. He walks into the restaurant with a dragging motion of his feet. Garcello looms over to the counter with barely any real patience. People move away and those that don't, go quickly about their order then move. "Hi." he stated, "I would like.. the whole left menu. Twice. Add 6 McChicken meals. Super size it..." "I-is that-that all sir?" A timid female voice asked quietly. "Yes.." he confirms. Not really looking up. "It's going to be disc-discounted. Y-you don't mind right?" She asked.As she asks that, the red film sight as it was dies down a bit. Garcello looks up from the counter. There is only one person that ever asks about discounts in his mind. He looks at the attendant at the counter and sees the fuchsia and sky blue eyes looking up and right back at him from her gaunt, modest face and shivering, small frame. "Rebecca? What are you doin' here?!" He asked actually in shock. "Um.. well.." she shrugs,"I work here. Y/N got me the job, t-they're the manager." Garcello looks on in shock. He tilts his head back with an incredulous stare. Looking for you and seeing you wave a short, polite wave as you're working with the drive through attendants to ensure chaos is handled. Garcello looks back to Rebecca. "Don’t give me a discount girl just charge me normally. I'll treat ya." He says softly. "A-are you su-sure?" "Entirely." He nods handing over 80 dollars. "You were c-close but a bit over. Your price is 72 dollars and 12 cents." "I know." He nods,"Tips. Put the change in your pocket." Rebecca looks sheepish, looking down and shivering."B-but.." "Do it." He commands sternly. Rebecca takes the money, makes exact change and keeps it immediately. Every motion is fast and shaky like an unstable roller-coaster. "T-thanks..." she murmurs shyly poking her fingers together. "When are you two off?" He asked. "In.. 30 mins.." Rebecca looks up at Garcello. Her eyes narrow and she grimaces.."I'll get an ice baggy.. and. I'm going to be frank... I have questions. And if i have questions.. Y/N is going to want answers..." Garcello grinds his teeth,"Alright. I'll wait and we'll talk." Rebecca purses her lips then exhales,"Thank you." Garcello leaves from the counter and to one of the large benches at the furthest back of the restaurant and waits. Waiting, letting time pass as he patiently sits. His core burning with hunger and primal thoughts when the mental shock subsides. The herd is curious.. tell them. "I.. don’t want them in danger..." Lies are over... tell them something... they worry. They fear. "Garcello? Are you good?" You asked concerned, "Rebecca told me about.-" "The bruise on my face. I know." Garcello says as Rebecca comes over with the food trays. "Ice bag, 3 o clock?" Rebecca offers the baggie of ice. Garcello looks to it then takes the bag, wiggles up his cap and bangs, revealing the recently closed gashes, burns and cuts on his chin and face. Your eyes widen from the sight, brow furrowing in concern. "What h-happened?" Rebecca says before you do. You see Garcello is staring at the food, half listening. Mostly tired, dragging on fumes really. "No." You say then look to Garcello,"We talk. After you finish eating. Got it?" "Yes'm" Garcello nods once then finally let's his brain drop being alert.Rebecca looks to you with concern, she shakes more from anxiety. "Oh.. don't worry I know." Your reassure,"But overwhelming him is the last thing on my mind. I don't think this is a simple little 'fall' like last time anyway." "You want to h-hear it fro-from his mouth." You nod once and sit down before looking to Rebecca, she nods once with a small smile. "Both of us are signed out, we wont get in trouble with higher ups for over time."She confirms just before- CRUNCH! TEAAAR! SHHRRIIP! Garcello eats like they aren't there, there is no smacking noise. Just an absence of control from tiredness and physically going through hell. Hes going through hoops with food like a functioning sponge with water, trying to replenish what was forcefully squeezed out of him. Rebecca looks to you. "I.. haven't seen him like this.. or well this bad.. Do you think hes..." "I think so." you confirm," Maybe on drugs. But regardless of whatever it is... This cant be swept under the rug. Did you call Annie?" "I-I did." Rebecca nods,"She's coming as fast as possible. I warned her to not run red lights. I was promptly cursed out in German. I responded. She hung up knowing I was right." Garcello stops eating into his 6th McChicken. The man didn't unwrap the wrapper off, the whole ass sandwich is just getting murdered with his teeth. The devouring however stops short at the mention of Annie. With bloodshot eyes, he looks to Rebecca and you. "You.. are all going to be here?" he asked and you shake your head no. "No." You respond,"But. I'm happy you have a brain in there again. Because like it or not.. you're going to tell us what we need to know." Garcello pales in the face for a moment like he saw a ghost, his heart races in terror. His pupils contract as he knows hes cornered now. There is no wiggling out like before.

"We aren't g-going to hurt you, big guy." Rebecca coos softly. "I.. i know its jus'..." Garcello starts but its hard to put words together. "You know you can't bullshit us anymore." You finish looking at the man directly in his face. Garcello looks away looking down at the scraps of paper, unwrapped or just ripped apart making a mess on the table. "Yeah.. I cant." he confirms as Annie rampages in like a crashing tsunami and yells just as loud, scaring customers out of the restaurant. "NOW WHOMST THE FUCK JUMPED GARCELLO?! I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING BEAT THEIR SHIT IN!" Annie yells, her flesh is tinting blue from the glowing blue of her veins spidering from her skin. A sign of her stress before she drinks ‘the liquid’. "You bout to calm so i can explain." Garcello says strictly, unafraid as he’s been used to seeing the entity pour our from her veins and skin. He’s more than used to being attacked as he knows it doesn't like him. But for now it has no power here. Just like his other half. "Then talk." You egg on, as Annie takes a few breathes, grabs a chair and sits in it, the back of the chair acing the table."We're all listening." Garcello bites his lips. His S/O and his best friends, the core of the herd, his herd... now are looking at him like hes wounded. Doesn't help that he is on the outside and inside... ‘Now you gone and done it, Garcy.. but now.. what do you do now?’ He asks himself in his thoughts as he takes a deep breath in. Act as you are, You are alpha. Time to be a man.

#fnf fanart #reader insert #fnf au #scifi #let-love-run-red #fantasy #fnf garcello

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sneezefiction · 4 years

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falling for you

Tsukishima Kei x reader - Scenario

a/n: ok so, trying to portray fluff with Tsukki was a challenge characteristically, but i’ll be damned if i don’t try. lemme know who i should try next~ i’m open for requests :)

warnings: slight cursing, mentions blood/wounds (nothing angsty)

wc: 1680

---

Tsukishima never intended to get to know you.

He had actually been avoiding you for quite some time.

You see, you got under his skin in the most irritating ways.

It wasn’t like how he loathed Hinata or Kageyama. Or his annoyance with incredibly slow grocery clerks. It wasn’t even similar to the exhaustive irritations he experienced toward the end of a full volleyball match.

Yes, these things are problematic, but Tsukishima can handle almost any obstacle.

You see, his cold, calculated presence soaks in every detail of life for the purpose of learning how to dismantle an issue. He resassesses, maneuver, and overcomes. There’s a reason the boy is so good at blocking.

However of all the problems he could have... this one is the worst.

Previously, he had everything he possibly could, under his control.

But when you came along? Oh, he had absolutely no experience with handling this level of meddling.

Because it isn’t even your fault.

You just somehow manage to interrupt all of his patterns and sneak your way into a majority of his thoughts.

Every. Single. Day.

So it isn’t a surprise that Tsukki, a master of mental strength and strategy, would be enraged by his inability to pin down his feelings for you.

For example, last week, you accidentally bumped into his arm, stumbling a bit. Tsukki grabbed your arm before you could hit the floor, but as his hand meets your skin he feels as though he’s taken a fall of his own.

His heart fluttered.

And when you immediately turned to him, apologizing and thanking him sweetly and sincerely, his whole mind went numb.

You make him feel confused. Uncertain. And… real.

But that doesn’t mean he likes those feelings. No, he doesn’t, Tsukishima tries to convince himself.

So why is it you that he pictures your figure whenever he closes his eyes? Or that your laugh echos through his head after someone tells you a cheesy joke from across the classroom? Or how whenever you call his name, he can’t help but temper his irate disposition?

You’ve got him spinning in circles and it’s driving him wild.

Because Tsukishima doesn’t want to need anyone. Not a friend. Not A lover. And he definitely isn’t in the market for another disappointment.

However, as much as he tries to avoid you, your touch, your smile, he can’t seem to stop running into you. He can’t bury his feelings for you, as much as he wishes he could.

Even though he’s tried to find reasons to hate, laugh at, or ridicule you, he simply can’t. Because the reason you are so bothersome and so obnoxious has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with his inability to cope with how relentlessly wonderful you are in his eyes.

---

Your walk home conveniently crosses with Tsukki’s own path and every so often he’s out of volleyball practice just in time to run into you. An increasing occurrence over the past couple of months.

Tsukishima may not realize or want to admit it, but he treasures the rare moments where he’ll walk in sync with you. His stride subconsciously copies yours, slowing him down significantly, and somehow it’s okay.

You, harboring your own feelings toward the blonde, always try to make small talk or ramble about your day, doing your best to find some type of common ground with the tall boy next to you.

He finds himself responding to you again.

He’s tried for so long to not get involved, but over the past few days, he can’t help but let his thoughts flow. You make him uncomfortably comfortable, if that’s at all possible.

His snarky comments are (currently) nonexistent. His abrasive nature, moderated.

I mean, of course he’s dripping with sarcasm, but Tsukki wouldn’t change that part of himself for anyone.

Today something seemed to have clicked between you two, likely due to Tsukishima briefly relinquishing his stubbornness and fear of connection. It’s infrequent, but with your consistency, he’s finding himself far more capable of seeing outside of his past.

As the conversation picks up speed, so do your feet. The pebbled path you walk doesn’t help you keep your footing, so you find yourself unsteady and sliding every once in a while.

Suddenly, your feet are out from under you, and similarly to the week before, you plummet to the earth.

You’re not quite as fortunate this time, because as quickly as Tsukki swoops down to catch you, your hands and knees are already covered in dirt, sand, and bits of rock. Scraped and bleeding, you do your best to calm yourself down and assess the situation… so you turn to Tsukki.

Poor boy looks so awkward, unsure of what to say, but still attempting to keep his cool demeanor.

“Are you okay?” He asks, crouching down to meet your eyes. As masked as it is, you see a flicker of concern in his expression.

He takes your hand in his, trying not to let his feelings intervene with your pain, and studies the tears in your skin.

“I- I’m okay,” You stammer, partially from the pain, but mostly from his gentle touch.

“Okay… let me see if I have anything that’ll help.” Turning toward his bag.

It aches and the grimace on your face shows just how nasty the gash on your knee really is.

He gently lets your hand down, taking out tissues from his backpack and uses one to wipe off your knee while you use another to apply pressure to your hands.

The air is very still, almost as though it chose to pause for this moment.

“Hm, the weather actually is nicer down here for you short kids. I’m envious.” Tsukki jokes, breaking the tense silence.

“Haha, very funny. Maybe if you ever fall down, I’ll actually be able to catch you, since I’m already down here.” You retort playfully.

“Okay captain sassy, whatever you say.” He shoots back, “Now how ‘bout we see if you can actually stand up.”

He offers you his hand once again, the feeling making your heart race and his face go blank.

You attempt to straighten out your legs entirely, moving a foot forward, but find yourself in extreme discomfort.

Tsukki notices and without skipping a beat, suggests,

“Well, I can… y’know, carry you?” He turns his head, the lightest dusting of pink touching his cheeks.

You, still using his hand for support, look down, your face becoming red.

“I think that may be the, uhm, best option. It hurts a lot.”

He silently stoops down, placing his arms under your knees and behind your back, making sure to not agitate the wound any further.

The walk continues in a nervous, but intimately close manner. Neither of your eyes knowing what to focus on.

So you decide to fixate on him for a moment,

“I’m sorry about all this… I should’ve watched my step.” You express, “But… I’ve really enjoyed our walk together.” You crack a warm smile.

Tsukki returns your gaze, pulse jumping slightly, his honey-brown hued irises capturing your soft (e/c) eyes,

“Yeah, dumbass. You should’ve at least remembered how big of a clutz you are.” He smirks.

“But I guess this was nice… not so much the falling part…” He takes a moment to consider his next few words, breathing a little deeper.

“But these walks, speaking with you…” He averts his gaze,

“Just you, actually, y/n.” If your blush wasn’t already apparent, it was clear now.

He’s approaching your house as he finishes his sentence, but it feels as you’re both walking through time and space. A small galaxy opening up just for the two of you.

Reality stops in moments like these, Tsukki notes.

And it doesn’t feel… bad.

It feels right. Nice, even.

Before making it up to your front door, you reach your soft hand toward Tsukishima’s forcibly stoic face.

While outwardly, he’s kept his composure, his insides are producing so many SOS signals, it’s not even funny.

You lean forward, hand resting on his jaw, and place a short kiss to his cheek.

Leaning back, you catch a look of adoration in his eyes. Something he has no idea he’s physically showing right now.

He takes this chance to capture your soft lips in a kiss.

He hasn’t really done this before, but Tsukki gets how a kiss should work.

What didn’t cross his methodical, logic-based brain was just how good it would feel. Like a cloud, back-lit by golden sunlight, or a perfect chord progression to the most touching ballad.

It’s imperfect, but it’s electric.

Your lips melded with his so well, every second melting away his icier emotions. It began to introduce him to a new reason for life and a new meaning to love.

He eventually sets you down in front of your door.

But he has your hand lightly held in his, careful not to disturb the scrapes.

A huge grin spreads through your face, eyes lit up.

And he now knows why he can’t stop thinking about you. You really are a necessary part of his life. Worthy of breaking routines. Special enough to stop his flow and grumpily facetime you. Important enough to reshape himself to account for your existence.

With this final realization, Tsukki goes to his next line of action.

“So, are you free Friday?” He inquires.

“Actually, yeah! Can we go see that new dinosaur movie? I’m kind of obsessed with it.”

“Well, damn. This is gonna be even better than I expected.” He smirks, leaving you confused, but smiling at his response.

No, he wasn’t going to tell you about his discoveries from that day.

At least not in great detail.

But, thanks to this… to you, Tsukishima is learning to open himself up again. To take chances on himself and others. A process that is never too early to begin.

All it took was helping you back onto your feet to get you into his arms.

Something that both literally and relationally makes a whole lot of sense for some reason, Tsukki concludes.

#lmao my titles are so cheesy #the fic isn't tho #just fluffy and sweet #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff #hq fanfic #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima oneshot #tsukki #sneezefiction

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dont-call-me-baby-posts · 3 years

Note

do we want a preview? what kind of a question is that? ofcourse we do

HEHEH 🤭🤭🤭 okay!

The chapter most likely will NOT be out tonight. I still have a lot of work to do on it (it’s take a long time to write 10-15k words, and then edit). But it will be up soon!!

Tonight I may post a lil bonus chapter though. (Consider it ch 29.5). We’ll have to wait and see because I’m not entirely sure yet. 🤷‍♀️

Chapter 30 PREVIEW

Alternatively….. The One About C*VID.

“What do you mean I can’t come home?”

You paced across the small space of your hotel room, socked feet pressing into soft beige carpet. You pinched the bridge of your nose with a finger and thumb. “I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Tom!”

“I know, peach..” Bethany sighed, panic clear in her voice. “We’re going to figure something out, don’t worry. But they’ve locked everything down- there’s nothing I can do for now.”

Fan-fucking-tastic.

A full fledged pandemic would be happening right now. You’d heard the bickering back and forth for a while, mumbles on the street here or there, but you weren’t really that concerned. From what you heard, it was supposed to blow over in a week or two. And now the entire country was shut down?

“Everyone is supposed to be staying inside, staying away from each other…” Bethany continued to grumble. You could practically hear the way she was pacing through her voice. “There’s nothing I can do right now, but I’m trying my best.”

“So where am I supposed to go?” You whined, throwing yourself onto the bed. You covered your eyes with your hand, shaking your head in disbelief. “If the hotel is closing then what am I supposed to do? Live on the street?“

“Y/N, it’ll only be a day or two, tops. This whole thing will be over before we know it, and I’ll work something out so you can come home. Just find someone to stay with tonight and I’ll have a plan in the morning. You have friends in London, don’t you?”

You wracked your brain, coming up with next to nothing. You kicked your feet in frustration, pressing your hand harder against your face.

“No, I don’t.” You cried out. “Can’t you just get me another hotel?”

“They’re all closing, peach. You just need to find someone-“

“I don’t know anyone!” You cut her off, moping and moaning and sighing into the phone. “No one!”

Bethany paused, her breathing halting suddenly in your ear.

“Well there is someone…” She posed, her words coming out as if against her better judgement. You shot up in bed, balling your hand into a fist.

“I know you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“What other choice do you have?”

She was saying what you thought she was saying. You shook your head frantically, leaping off the mattress to pace again.

“That isn’t a choice! It’s not happening, Beth! No!”

“You should at least ask him, you know he’s in town-“

“Bethany!” You snapped, letting out a deep sigh. You froze in place, closing your eyes. “Bethany I can’t do that.”

“Well it doesn’t look like you have much of a choice now, does it?”

///

An hour went by, then two hours, then three. The originally scheduled time of your flight had long come and gone, and you were still in fucking London.

You didn’t know what to do. You called every hotel within miles, you called Bethany every twenty minutes to see if anything had changed. No luck.

You called Anders, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it but thinking maybe he would have some better idea than Bethany. He didn’t.

“Why don’t you just call him?” He asked you as if it was no big deal at all, crunching loudly on something that sounded like chips on the other end of the phone. He’d already made the drive all the way back to Chicago to stay with his family, and you could tell by his voice he didn’t have a care in the world right now. (When everyone was advised to stay at home, he knew it wasn’t the smartest idea for him to be alone. So he was kicked back and relaxed, enjoying the way his mom was no doubt doting on him right now).

“God, you are no help at all…” You whined. He snickered at you. You could envision him perfectly right now, feet probably kicked up on the sofa, hand behind his head.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” He laughed, taking another loud bite. You groaned.

“Can you chill with the chips?” You begged him, rubbing your eyes. “And I don’t know what I expected. I thought maybe you would have some better idea.”

You heard him setting the bag of snacks down loudly, exhaling deeply. “You should call him.”

“Why does everyone want me to call him so bad?”

“Of course I want you to call him!” Anders said a little bit louder, sounding at his whits end. “He’s my boy.”

“I’m not doing that.” You held your ground. “And since when is he your boy?”

“I told you we were friends.”

“I mean I knew you guys talked sometimes but I didn’t realize it was like that…” You grumbled, still not understanding how or when that whole situation had happened. Last you and Harry spoke about Anders, it was a very different story. “Your ‘boy’…” you added under your breath with an eye roll.

“He’ll let you stay there, I know he will.” Anders insisted.

“No he won’t.”

“I’m telling you right now that he will.”

“No!“ You huffed, “He won’t. I haven’t even spoken to him since January and it’s not like we left things on a very good note, anyway. He probably won’t even answer.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind…” Your friend muttered to himself. “But whatever. Do what you want.”

You were getting slightly annoyed. You were annoyed Anders for not agreeing with you and Bethany for not bending the rules to get you out of here and at this fucking virus that was ruining all of your plans. You were starting to get a killer headache just wrapping your mind around it all.

“Even if he did answer, I don’t want to see him.”

Anders giggled to himself, “Yes you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, okay...”

“I don’t! I’ve gone this long without seeing him and I’m finally over it. If I see him now it’ll just be more fighting and more crying and I’ll say the wrong thing again and make him sad. Or, even worse, it might not make him sad at all to see me! Maybe he won’t even care that I’m there at all and then my feelings will be all hurt because he doesn’t like me anymore. I mean, I know that already but still. He’s my ex-boyfriend, Anders, I’m not calling him.”

There was a long pause after you’d finished ranting. Anders hummed, as if he had something to say but decided not to.

“Whatever, man. If you want to be homeless then go for it. I’ll be here in the comfort of my bed if you need anything.” Anders said finally, deciding to drop it. “I would offer to send you some snacks or something to make sure you don’t starve to death, but you don’t have an address for me to send them to… Which is too bad, really, because these chips my mom bought go hard as fuck.”

“You’re done.” You cut him off, sitting up on the mattress. “I’m gonna go talk to someone who can actually help.”

“Have fun with that.” He said, a smile in his voice. “Just make sure you stay away from all the drugs and crime on the streets, ‘kay?”

You groaned again. You couldn’t help being grumpy. “Goodbye, Anders.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He mocked the formality of your words. “Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah..” You huffed. “You too.”

TO BE CONTINUED….. 🤭🤭

#blacking out and breaking hearts #bobh #if this sounds unrealistic it’s because it’s a fanfiction #just go with it

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pony-boy21 · 3 years

Text

I have been feeling really detached from myself [not a new experience, just not in denial I guess] and have been feeling inhuman is the easiest way to put it. Here are others people experience that is very relatable (I'll bold the ones that I experience quite frequently)

“It feels like your conscious brain has detached and you aren’t attached to your body. Everything goes dull like a filter has been turned on.” — Kate R.

“Feeling like I’m not me. Like I’m looking at someone else’s body and when looking at my hands I can’t grasp that they are in fact a part of me. I could stare at myself in the mirror all day and not feel like they are my eyes looking back.” — Lydia G.

“You feel out of your body, you just feel numb, you feel like an observer… like you’re just watching a movie or a TV show about your life that you don’t have any control over. You just feel like you’re on autopilot. You look in the mirror and see yourself and you just can’t believe it’s you staring back. Everything just feels blank.” — Tayla R.

“When it starts, I can feel the things that make me human start to slip away. I lose all sense of emotion, my mind goes blank, and I feel as though my body does not exist. I go through tasks and actions like a well-programmed robot, and when I speak, it’s without my own tongue. I sound lifeless. Sometimes I scream and panic in the back of my mind, but my body won’t listen.” — Amity L.

“It feels like you are witnessing your own life behind a glass wall, like nobody sees or hears you, but you can see and hear everything very clearly, even clearer than usual actually. You see your body move and you hear your voice talk but you have zero control over what you’re saying or doing, and then you just keep banging on the glass wall hoping someone would notice you’re not really there inside the body.” — Kira H.

“You feel like your body isn’t your own body, it’s something strange and distant as a vehicle you don’t drive.” — Natasha C.

“I once described it to a friend by painting a picture. Imagine you are swimming, it’s kind of dark. You can feel what you are doing and you feel like you. As you continue, you start to see yourself from the perspective of a passerby. You move your hands but it doesn’t feel like you’re moving them, only watching. You can stare at them all you want but the longer you do it the more foreign they become. You feel trapped in this space, like your outside of your body and can’t get back in.” — Venus M.

“Depersonalization for me feels like I’m just now realizing everything around me is life. It’s like I never noticed before. And then like that, I’m lost and I’m not even sure how I actually feel. I feel as if I’m not even here. I’m a shell amongst shells.” — Chanta R.

“It’s like I’m underwater. I move, but I don’t think I wanted to. My body carries me through it’s normal motions, while I try to figure out how to come back and take control.” — Jana W.

“Depersonalization is like another version of myself takes over and handles what I’m anxious about. I suddenly become a happier person. I laugh and joke and I’m confident. Once I’m back in a secure environment, my real self appears and pieces of what happened during that time is lost. I don’t remember what happened.” — Tamasvi G.

“It’s like no longer being connected to your own body. Your mind is so overwhelmed that it just detaches from reality completely. You question whether or not you’re real. Everything about you is unfamiliar. You look at your hands and wonder whose they are. It’s almost like watching a complete stranger go about their business.” — Vanessa L.

“In all honesty, it’s horrifying. It feels like I’m not in control of my body. I feel like I’m playing out events and there is nothing I can really do about it. There’s a slight feeling of numbness. Feeling fully aware of what’s going on, but I can’t do anything to stop it. It’s almost as though I’m playing out a cutscene and I’m just there for the ride. For me, they’re the worst kind of anxiety attack I can have.” — Toby O.

“Feeling like I’m locked in a glass box but the glass is dirty and fogged up so i can only partially see/understand whats going on. I feel really disconnected from everything outside of the box so much so that i start feeling disconnected from myself too because I’m shut in and things don’t make sense. I feel spacey tired and confused and i wonder if I’m actually real. Its like my brain feels disconnected from my body.” — Sarah C.

“You’re awake, but you’re trapped mostly in your head. You think you’re in reality, but a lot of time goes by, and when you feel that sudden sense of, ‘Omg, look what month we’re in already?’ You realize you haven’t really been aware. It’s a nonstop cycle.” — Cady S.

“For me, it feels as though I’m not really in charge of my movements or thoughts. I’m somewhere not quite beside myself, but not fully me. I start to wonder if what’s happening around me is real.” — Jes V.

“Several times in the last couple of years, I have looked in the mirror and legitimately didn’t know who the girl was looking back at me. I couldn’t feel my body. I felt like I was just a void. Scared the crap out of me when I would ‘snap back’ to reality.” — Jessica H.

“Like in one of these movies, being an alien creature just inhabiting a human body and controlling it. A strong Sensation of strangeness and every move feels over-controlled.” — Stefan K.

“[It’s like] floating in a bubble just above my own head, puppeteering my body, clumsily, on strings. My physical sensations are dulled, except sounds, which are weirdly amplified and out of sync. I can think clearly as the me inside the bubble, but not as the me in the body. The me in the body feels distant, far away, like another person. My voice comes out but is strange and far away sounding. Everything is going too fast and too slow at the same time, people and cars loom up suddenly out of nowhere and things like traffic are unpredictable. My perception is oddly skewed making spatial awareness and proprioception difficult. I feel like I am piloting my body by remote control.” — Katy P.

“It’s like I’m standing just behind and a little to the left of myself. I can see and hear only me at the time. Everything else is black and silent. And if I’m in a rage, I can say and do awful things. When I come back, I remember nothing and don’t feel anything about my actions even when told how horrible I was. It wasn’t me who said/did those things.” — Caralyn R.

“I feel like I’m standing off to the side watching myself. But I feel nothing. Empty. No emotions or feelings, nothing. I’m watching people talk to me but I hear nothing. No sound. Everything is muted.” — Sheree S.

“It’s like being an alien inside your own head, but your body is a machine stuck on autopilot so you’re not controlling much of anything. You see everything, but feel nothing. And when you walk past a mirror, you avoid looking because the person you see in the reflection somehow isn’t you. It’s a hollow unrecognizable shell of a thing you remember, but can’t connect with on any level. It’s isolating too, because even if someone else does notice when you’re going through this, there’s no way in hell they could ever truly understand or relate because they haven’t ever been through this themselves.” — Devin L.

“For me it was like I couldn’t focus on anything, like my whole life was a complete blur, like I needed glasses to make it clear again, as though I was there but I wasn’t. The worst thing was that I couldn’t control it. I would look in the mirror and barely recognize the girl looking back at me. You feel unconnected with reality, you just go on auto pilot. It’s really horrible.” — Kerry F.

“It feels like you’re playing a first-person video game. You can sort of control your actions and choose to interact with objects and people, but it’s not actually you doing or experiencing any of it. You’re just watching what happens from behind a screen, completely disconnected.” — Rowan S.

“It’s like the world around me is made of Lego people and the cars are Hot Wheels. It’s like I’m the child who’s in control of how fast the cars move and how the people and trees and houses are all arranged. It’s scary really. Especially because when I finally realize I’m not the one I’m in control. I feel so confused about what happened and what I felt.” — Emmy P.

#pony-boy21 #mental health awareness #depersonalization

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