#i sound so stupid when i cry it's fucking. high-pitched wails caught between silent shuddering gasps

[arcadian-vampire]

Woopsie,, 4am breakdown, I think I didn't muffle my silly goofy sobs quite enough, because after a lil bit my mom startled awake and was like 'who's calling for me?? are you okay???? what do you need??'

I had to go reassure her that everything is all good, no one was yelling her name, it's 4am just go back to sleepies, there are two (2) cats in your bed who need sleepy snuggles,

She told me she must've dreamt about someone needing her help, and she woke up heart pounding ready to fly out of bed. rip

#pikaposts #i sound so stupid when i cry it's fucking. high-pitched wails caught between silent shuddering gasps #do you know how hard it is to cover up those high-pitched wails!!! i'm out here practically suffocating myself with my bedding #i'm fine btw i'm just 22 and lamenting my lost health. you know how it is #can barely walk into the kitchen these days and am grappling with a Decision that's pretty. humiliating to me. #like it shouldn't be! it happens with disabled people sometimes! but if i agree to it i just know i won't be able to look at it #i'll have to like. cover it with a towel or something. and there's no way i'll be able to set things up myself so #i'm just. gonna have to embarrassingly rely on my mom I guess. #i say 'if i agree to it' but really i'm kind of out of other options. i can't manage things all on my own #bc something is wrong with me! and nobody here can quite piece it together #everybody throws around 'ehlers-danlos syndrome' but nobody here knows what it Means or what to do about it #i have to move to a different state asap because i need access to more advanced health care. sigh #but 'asap' is shaping up to be. next year maybe. i have to stay here for another year or so.

[fairylights101writes]

Breathe

Read on AO3. The rest is beneath a read more.

Hanamaki leaned heavily against the sink, hands shaking, leg jostling as he glared into the mirror. His eyes burned, his throat felt thick. An uncomfortable weight had settled in his chest, heavy, almost squeezing him. It only grew tighter as his eyes raked along his face, his body. A face too soft and rounded. Lips too full, too pink. A throat with no Adam's apple. Narrow shoulders. And, even with the binder hooked as tight as possible, bumps.

A tremor rippled through him. He sucked down a breath and held it, desperate to stave off the building panic attack. Stop. It’s okay. You’re okay. But he felt like anything but. It was a bad day - understatement really. Ripping his skin off felt like an option that was all too viable to be good. He just wanted to crawl out of it and curl up in a dark corner, nothing more than a pile of bones and a weakly beating heart.

But he couldn’t.

There was no escaping his skin, the body he’d been stuck with, full of things he dreaded to even think of. No relief from the swirling mess of black that had him by the claws either. It shoved thoughts to the forefront of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to crush them. All the flaws, all the things wrong. A dozen, a hundred, a thousand things that made his mouth clenched tight, choking back sounds. Wrong. It’s wrong. You’re wrong.

A full-body shudder rippled through him and he hunched over, breaths ragged. Losing control. His eyes screwed shut as he clutched at the cool porcelain, lip caught between his teeth. Breathe. Fucking breathe already.

Another gasp punched through him, taunting, and with a weak sound he slithered down, too weak to stand. He crouched there on the balls of his feet, hands clinging weakly to the sink in a pathetic attempt to ground himself as the sear behind his eyes finally grew too much, tears slipping down his face as his jaw dropped open into a silent wail that made his jaw shake as his head rolled forward. I don’t want to be like this! I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!

But there was a far more toxic side that curled around him, bit in as poison dripped down his spine, turning his blood cold. They’ll never see me as anything but a girl. It’s the hair - dying it pink was a stupid idea. Cutting it doesn’t help. The piercings are a bad idea too - only girls have so many, right? The makeup - stupid. My voice is too fucking high. Every time I open my mouth they know, there’s no fooling them.

His shoulders hitched with another quiet sob. Tears splattered onto the tiles. Hands buried into hair, tugging until pain prickled at his scalp. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why couldn’t I just have stayed like I was? Unaware of all of this shit. It would’ve been better. Fucking easier. I’m so fucking stupid, why do I have to be like this?

A high-pitched sound broke out and it made Hanamaki sob harder as he finally sank fully to the ground. Icy tiles pressed into his cheek. Limbs jerked in. Palms pressed into his eyes, vicious, harsh. No more, no more, I don't want this anymore, make it stop- An inhale, sharp, caught in his throat. The mess of sobs and gasps broke into coughs. Hot tears spilled out past his hands. Everything collided in his brain, waged war in his chest, left chaos in it's wake. He tugged on his hair again, lips sputtering with gasps. Tooru's lying. They're all lying. I don't pass, I'll never be a man. I'm so fucking stupid, just-

“Hiro.”

Hanamaki’s entire body body twitched as a smooth voice sliced through the ringing in his ears. He curled up tighter. Stopped breathing altogether. Don't look at me. Don't. Go away, just- A weak sound bubbled from his lips as he shuddered, thumped his head onto the tile floor.

“Hiro, baby, I'm here. I'm right here.”

“Go away…” he choked out between sharp gasps that made him shake. His chest was tight, heavy - his binder was digging in, harsh. Make it stop.

“Hiro, look at me, okay?” His fingers twitched. Oikawa’s voice sounded so calm, so sure. Something that would surely know what was right. Hands trembling, he slowly slid them down his face until he could peek out from between unsteady fingers. Oikawa was crouched a little bit away, hands jittering as he held them to his chest. But a sweet smile broke out as Hanamaki managed to look at him. “That's good, you're doing good. Can you take a breath? Hold it?”

Hanamaki's teeth chattered, jarring he tried to shake his head and remember what it felt like to breathe. His head was swimming. Oikawa's voice felt like it was coming through cotton. He was so cold.

Fingers dug into his scalp, fresh pain flaring to life. Grounding. A jagged inhale scraped its way down his throat, settled in his aching chest, and Hanamaki clamped his hands over his mouth and nose. Hold it. Tooru said hold it. Hold it so he could calm down. So he could find something solid and steady to cling to.

“You're doing great, Hiro,” Tooru murmured, soft voice bleeding through the cracks. “Can I come closer?”

Hesitation. He frantically nodded, let the air out in a rush and sucked down another breath. Heartbeat wild against his ribs. Pounding in his head. Hanamaki watched as Oikawa scooted a little closer. A hand stretched out, brushed through his hair and settled on the back of his. Calm. Warm. Certain.

Oikawa carefully drew one of Hanamaki’s hands from his head. His fingers whispered across the skin, tracing the bumps of bones, knuckles, veins. Tracing paths along the webs of his palm. A breath crackled out of Hanamaki’s chest and he squeezed his eyes shut again as more tears slipped out. “Make… make it stop,” he croaked.

“I will.” Another touch whispered across his palm. “You can do this. You’re so strong. Keep breathing, okay? Just listen to me. I’m here. I’m with you.”

His head jerked in a nod to those smooth, reassuring words. An inhale, quavering and weak, but longer and steadier than the ones previous. Under Oikawa’s guidance he held it for a few seconds, then released it. Another cycle. Then another. Over and over until the rush of blood in his head quieted, until the thrum of his heart faded. The dark waters receded, a tide finally leaving his head for the time being. And finally his body was still, limp on the cold tiles, warmth seeping in from the tender hands that cradled his own reverently.

His eyes cracked open again. Oikawa’s eyes were on him, deep, warm browns that made him smile weakly. “Sorry,” Hanamaki whispered into the quiet of their bathroom.

Oikawa shook his head, thumbed Hanamaki’s wrist. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. I understand.” He bit his lip at his boyfriend’s words, but he nodded. Slowly he pushed himself upright, wincing as the tightness in his chest and the burn in his lungs edged back in. Oikawa scooted closer, bumping their knees together.

“It’s too tight, isn’t it?”

A nod, hollow.

“Do you want me to loosen it, or undo it?”

Hanamaki bit the inside of his cheek harshly. He knew it needed to be looser, probably come off entirely, but he didn’t want that - didn’t want to feel even less incomplete than he already did. But he sucked down a steeling breath and closed his eyes.

“Undo it. Please.”

“Okay.”

Lips whispered across his, an apologetic kiss, and then Oikawa’s gentle fingers slipped beneath his shirt. Hanamaki twitched as the touch skirted along his belly, and then up to the binder. One hook came loose. Then another. Two more and he was free, and that lingering tightness rushed away as Hanamaki took a deep breath, the first of the day that truly filled his lungs. He opened his eyes, found a smile and a tender expression waiting on him.

“I’m so proud of you,” Oikawa murmured as his hands skimmed Hanamaki’s cheeks before he cupped his face. He couldn’t help but lean his weight into those palms, eyes glued to his partner, chest fluttering as that smile stretched wider.

Hanamaki sniffed, managed a smile. “Proud of me? For crying on the bathroom floor?”

A thumb brushed along his cheek as Oikawa shook his head. “No. I’m happy because you’re getting better at letting me help. I remember when I couldn’t calm you down at all. So it really means a lot to see how much you trust me.” Heat rushed to Hanamaki’s cheeks and he squirmed, chest filled with a pleasant bubbling, but he didn’t say anything. He just let Oikawa go on with that low, smooth voice of his. “You let me undo your binder too, even though I know it sucks. You’re so strong, with this and everything else, so how could I not be proud of my beautiful boyfriend?”

Hanamaki sniffed. The prickle was back behind his eyes once more, lips wobbling to the ache. His hands came up, curled around those strong wrists. “I’m not,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I let everything get to me again. I know a lot of people accept me, but I know others still look at me all weird ‘n stuff ‘cause I don’t sound like a guy or anything, and-” His jaw snapped shut, hands tightening around his boyfriend’s wrists. And today someone made a comment in the bathroom. Yesterday someone said trans people were just attention-seeking. I still have everything I’m not supposed to have, and it really hurts, and just-

“Breathe.”

His eyes snapped back open and his heart stuttered, too quick once more. His chest hitched with another gasp, and then he clamped down, held it. Beneath that steady gaze and the touch of those warm hands he managed to time his breathing until they inhaled and exhaled together. Sweeps of calloused thumbs smeared fresh tears along his cheeks. Oikawa smiled. “Takahiro, no matter what the world says, you’re still a handsome, brilliant young man. I see it, and so do all of our friends. Eyes are opening. It’ll be okay. So don’t forget that people see you for who you are, and love you desperately for it. Especially me.”

Hanamaki’s lips spread into a wobbling smile. He nodded. “I love you, Tooru.”

The brunet grinned, pressed a kiss to Hanamaki’s forehead. “I love you too. Now let’s get off the floor and make you some tea, okay? I brought home cream puffs too.” Hanamaki smiled and let Oikawa pick him up, effortless with all those wiry muscles, and clutched that strong, gentle hand tight, their fingers threading together as they made their way through the apartment, steps certain, steady.

#hanaoi #oihana #flights writes #haikyuu!! #trans! makki #trans! hanamaki #Hanamaki #Oikawa #writing #ficlet #this is kinda a more personal piece because i've been dealing a lot with dysphoria lately so this kinda helps i guess #definitely a way to just write it out #it freaking sucks aaaah #normally i just kinda go blank tbh #idk man let's just roll with it #*finger guns away