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#i've told her so many times that talking about drugs still makes me anxious.....
schizosupport · 7 months
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Hi! I hope you're doing well, I finally started getting more open to my therapist and taking therapy itself more as a priority, and for the first time I opened up about how I can't remember my childhood. Like at all. Few bits and pieces. And I can't remember at lot actually as I'm getting older. (I'm 24) and I know a lot of that is trauma, but even good things I can't seem to remember.
My therapist was telling me about depersonalization and derealization, which both I understand semi well, but she mentioned dissociative amnesia? I don't know much, hardly any about it and was wondering if you can explain it a bit?
I want to talk to my therapist more about it too but I'm also super anxious about it. I also have a hard time keeping up with speech sometimes and especially when it's something I don't know about, and I don't want to misunderstand what my therapist will say.
I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia and ptsd and I think me dissociating plays a big part from both of those diagnosis. My therapist also says I daydream maladaptively, which is also a new term.
I just feel like all of this is being thrown at me and I don't know fully know how to handle this or even talk about it and I'm sorry if it feels like I'm asking too much. Don't worry about replying in a rush, I feel this is going to be a long journey ahead.
Hey anon,
I'm really sorry I never responded to this, I doubt it's in time now.
Are you still seeing this therapist and does her approach feel helpful to you?
Dissociative amnesia refers to any abnormal amnesia (lack of access to memories/lack of memories) that doesn't have a physiological/neurological cause.
It usually refers to blacking out specific memories that would be considered memorable, or to blacking out recent memories.
Dissociative amnesia usually is meant to indicate a supposed psychological reason for blacking out the memory/memories.
You can struggle to remember things for other reasons too, like cognitive issues of different kinds, that aren't necessarily based in physical brain injury or substances like certain medications, alcohol or drugs.
I personally am shit at making episodic memories, so I really struggle to recall even basic or memorable recent events in my life, and my childhood is a haze of stories I've told enough times to assume I must've remembered at a point, guesswork, little flashes of actual memory and things I "just know" the same way I know the capital of my country despite not remembering when I would've learned it.
I do want to normalize this a bit too. Which is not meant to invalidate, only as information so people aren't concerned over something not that uncommon. Because the thing is that it's actually uncommon for adults to have full and clear recall of most of their childhood. Many have a fairly coherent narrative of the overall happenings and some milestones and core memories, but overall it's rare to remember a lot - and it's normal for it to get increasingly hazy as you age.
Some people have really good recall, I know a few, but it's more common for most of the past to kinda turn into fog the further away it goes..
This was not really directed at you, because again I took ages to respond so it may no longer be relevant. But I'm responding in case it's useful to you or others anyways..
I do consider it a yellow flag in a therapist if they are quick to jump to a conclusion like dissociative amnesia, without knowing more about your sessions. There could be a perfectly good reason for her to bring it up with you, so again not directed at you, it's meant as a general observation.
I hope you are well anon..!
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sonneillonv · 2 years
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and chrissie surely didn't tell him the real reason why she needed it. she probably told him she's stressed because of finals after springbreak so he didn't know the extent of her situation. he wouldn't have given it to her if he thought it could harm her. love your additions.
Thank you, Anon 💜
And no, she definitely didn't tell him the real reason or he wouldn't have been quite as shocked when Vecna's attack first started. 😅 She might have told him she's having really bad dreams, or maybe that she's been so anxious with a sense of impending doom that she can't focus on anything else. Maybe just that she 'feels scared all the time'. But my overall guess would be that he would have thought her problem was anxiety and/or depression, and Ketamine is actually very effective for treating depression!
A Ketamine high is characterized by disassociation and euphoria, which may be why Eddie thought it might help her - not only by lifting her mood, but also by giving her some distance from whatever was causing her such anxiety in her life so she could relax. A low dose, taken once, would have been really truly unlikely to cause her any harm or give her a bad experience, so the people saying that Eddie didn't give a shit about her safety are way off-base. As party drugs go, he picked a very safe one for her, and one that may actually have been able to help her had her problem NOT been, y'know, supernatural.
Mental health stigma being what it was in the 80's, I strongly doubt she would have gone into too much detail. But one of the things I love about Hellcheer, and that makes me love Eddie, is that after talking to him for literally five minutes Chrissy felt like she could trust him to help her without judging her. And I've said many times, and will continue to say, that I think Eddie being 'the local weed-and-occasional-pill-guy' and Eddie being a DM are actually two sides of the same moral precept for him, which is this: When your life is shit, escape is a kindness.
An escape can be a couple hours in a fantasy role-playing game where the goals are concrete and you can actually win. Or an escape can be a couple hours of a euphoric trip. An escape can be the stage high you get off playing heavy metal for an enthusiastic audience of five drunks. Eddie's whole character is built around the idea of 'escape' which is, incidentally, why his cowardice makes perfect sense - he runs from problems, he helps other people run from problems. The system has never helped him, so he works outside it. He sees someone like Chrissy, with the walls closing in around her, and he opens a window for her the only way he knows how. It's not greed or negligence, it's mercy.
Is it the absolute bestest, most ideal way for Chrissy to address her problems? Of course not. In a perfect world, her whole family would be in (free, competent, compassionate) therapy - and it's worth noting here that Chrissy DID try that. She was talking to a therapist, but I doubt the guidance counselor was licensed to prescribe and even if she was, that would have meant getting Chrissy's parents involved. Actually, it may even have been her recommendation that Chrissy see a doctor licensed to prescribe antidepressants that drove Chrissy to Eddie in the first place - if she knew she needed chemical help, but she couldn't tell her parents, that leaves her one obvious option.
What a lot of people in this fandom don't seem to realize is that we do not live in a perfect world. If you actually care about helping people and reducing the harm they suffer from their circumstances, you have to meet them where they are, and where they are is usually messy and imperfect and problematic and less-than-ideal. You have to square with the fact that people still deserve help when they make choices you don't like. If you judge them for using the only safe resources they had (or in Eddie's case, for offering the only safe resources people had), you're actually doing the opposite of good - you're contributing to a stigma that drives people away from seeking help through legal channels.
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somethingbreaking · 5 years
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my sister always goes off on people who are dismissive of anxiety disorders but the second i’m anxious about anything she acts like i’m being a rude whiny baby LMFAO ok
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iwillfightgodandwin · 2 years
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Acknowledging the Queer Toxicity in the Film Industry.
I have been out for 5 years and I still get excited whenever I see queer stuff in films. However, I'm not talking about a queer character, I'm talking about a character who happens to be queer.
Don't get it? Let me explain.
Recently I've seen a lot of gay movies coming out (pun definitely intended) and they're all about this gay character who despite the fact that they're queer, happens to find love.
Oh? Did the word 'despite' make you uncomfortable? Angry? It should.
Nine times out of ten, when I see a queer movie, it's about coming out and being yourself and finding love. And I hate that. Not that there is anything wrong with movies like that. I think Love, Simon is a beautifully written movie, it inspired a lot of people and it's really important to queer culture.
However, I much more prefer the subtle queer. A woman that lovingly mentions her wife. An anxious man that acknowledges that he finds dating tough, but he'll find a boyfriend someday. I want casual queers. I hate it when movies take two guys and make all their conversations about how "dating is hard for gays" and "I never thought I'd find love" or 'insert a gay joke here'. It's exhausting.
That's one of the reasons I like B99 so much. You've got Holt, who is a stone faced captain that loves jokes. He loves his husband and their dog. A very serious part of his character is that he is a black, gay man who had to work extra hard to get things he should have deserved. Those traits aren't diminished, but they also aren't the focus.
Then there is Rosa, she's a badass motherfucker who always has a knife and rides a motercycle. She's also Bi, and whilst there was a couple of episodes about her coming out to people, it didn't change her character. It just made her happier. She still threatens to stab someone if they ask her too many questions.
Rocketman (2019) is one of my favourite films. Elton and Bernie have made so many songs that have changed our music industry. The movie goes over Elton's life and how his mental health started to decline due to trauma and an abusive relationship that got him into doing drugs. The fact that he's gay only comes up when other people talk about it or force him to. With one exception - when he's in therapy, and even then, he's not saying it with fear or hesitation and it's also brought up by someone else. "And marrying her didn't make you happy?" "Not really, I'm gay." Being gay is apart of Elton's history, but it isn't what he's known for. He's known for being one of the best musicians of our time and we love him so much!
I also recently watched 'Tick, Tick... Boom!' and it was fantastic! I didn't know that Jonathan was so anxious about making a play before 30. I've grown up in a time where a lot of people got their big break after 30 and it's rare to get one before 30. I also vaguely remember that Jonathan was friends with a lot of people during the AIDS crisis that ended up dying to HIV. A crisis which was highly centered around gay communities. His best friend was gay and ended up getting HIV, and it was very sad, I cried.
I love seeing queerness in film, and we need more. What we do not need, however is queer characters. I hate defining characters as queer, because that means we are actively pushing LGBTQA+ people into a bubble. If my brother and I can date the same lady, then I want jokes about how I stole his girl, and not about how she doesn't like men all that much anymore. I want the kind of jokes I experience in real life when people look at me and correct themselves two or three times cause they haven't quite figured out my gender. When my niece was 6, she told us she was going to marry this girl, we laughed and told her to wait untill she was older to marry her.
Putting queerness into films is important, but it's also getting dangerous. Please be aware of the rising toxicity in this.
I'm also sorry if I offended anybody, as it wasn't my intention. Please, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.
Go on. Do it.
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
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ain't it fun? | part 4
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Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.
Warnings: chronic illness, hurt/comfort, drug use**! spencer and reader smoke weed together; talks of relapse and recovery. Also, a case involving child abductions, getting engaged, love confessions
word count: 2.4k
a/n: not sure how long this is going to keep getting but I am enjoying adding to it
P1 P2 P3
Days like today suck.
She can’t get out of bed, she’s so hungry her stomach is swirling and screaming and there’s a pain in her intestines that feels like someone is eating her from the inside out but she can’t move… and she has to pee but her legs hurt and her head is pounding from the light. It’s 6 am according to the alarm clock, Spencer hasn’t left for work yet and she’s already missing him.
She manages to make it to the bathroom, sitting there for too long after because she can’t find the courage to stand back up.
“Why?” She whispers to herself before the tears start.
Covering her face as she cries, she’s still sitting on the toilet with her underwear around her ankles, sobbing as Spencer walks in.
He helps her up without asking, he’s seen too many bad mornings now to ask if she needs help, he just knows she wants to go back to bed, so he fixes her underwear and picks her up.
When he finally lays her down with all her pillows, he lowers the temperature in the room to relax her bones and gets her a ginger ale to help with the nausea from the pain she’s in. It is a regular occurrence for her to wake up and feel like she’s dying, but Spencer was wonderful when dealing with it.
He’s in the kitchen for a while, she’s worried he’s making something for her to eat that she’ll have to lovingly turn away because she can’t do it right now. Her throat is too tight and it hurts to swallow or talk.
She can hear him talking… he’s on the phone with someone.
When he comes back in, he cuddles into her the way he knows she likes. Soothing his hands over her back in a way that helps the pain while also helping her feel like she’s not alone in all of this. He’ll never understand; but he loves her, so a part of him feels it too.
“You called out?” She whispers against his chest.
He nods, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she feels the friction. “I don’t feel good when you don’t feel good.”
“I’m sorry you had to help.”
He’s told her time and time again that he doesn’t mind.
He would kill for her, he’d clean up the mess if she killed someone. He’d even dig the fucking grave if she needed him too… he wasn’t opposed to being there for her no matter what that entailed.
She just hated the fact he had to, he knew her apology came from her hatred of herself and not the fact she felt sorry for him. She loved the help, it made her feel loved until she felt disappointed in herself for needing it.
“Do you want your medicine?”
She smiles finally, “if you mean my secret joint stash— yes, but if you can’t handle being around me like that, then I don’t need it today.”
“I think I’d like to try it,” Spencer whispers. “If you can smoke weed and not relapse then I think I can too?”
“Probably, but if you can’t, I’ll support you however you need me to?” She smiles up at him, he kisses the tip of her nose as she kisses his chin.
Getting high with Spencer is… interesting to say the least. He doesn’t want a full hit, he just wants a taste and so she takes a drag and blows the smoke from her lungs to his. Sharing a part of themselves in a way they never expected before, this is his most vulnerable moment and he was trusting her with it.
The sunshine hits his face in such a perfect way that as they lay side by side, she can watch his pupil devour his iris as he gets high. Their breathing is steady and their fingers are interlocked. They’re content just blinking together, in the sunshine, quiet. In love.
Her body is so calm, and her mind is slow as she takes it all in and he looks so relaxed. He’s not jittery or caffeine-deprived like most mornings; he’s not anxious or stressed or trying to find a way to pretend he’s fine before leaving for work again, only to come home sad.
He’s okay.
She’s okay.
“It's nice,” he whispers, “but it’s not as good as you.”
She smiles, trying not to laugh at how his thoughts are going to be all jumbled for the next few hours. He’s going to be smart yet stupid at the same time and she couldn’t fucking wait to hear all the things he thinks of.
“I know what you mean,” she agrees.
“This is like a tidal wave..." his ramble starts and she is so excited to see where it takes them. "A tsunami that rushes and relieves just as quickly." His eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy.
"You’re like a volcano; there are so many stages before mass destruction, and even then there’s still the ash cloud and the debris and the lava dries like rocks… the destruction is total and the cleanup will be brutal.”
“I’m addicted to you," his eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy. "Drugs are boring and you’re not,” Simplifying his meaning as his eyes open again.
“I love you,” he says with the same certainty as the first time.
“I love you, too, Spencer,” she didn’t think they’d go down this path when she was blowing into his mouth, she expected him to panic or get horny.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much.”
He shakes his head lightly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to knowing.”
If she thinks it over, she’ll abandon ship before she can tell him, so she just jumps into it.
“I was a little scared to ask you to help me lock my door that first day because I thought you’d think I was just some junky who couldn’t get their shit together. But the second you asked if I had a local group and you helped me; that was the moment I knew I wanted you in my life for forever.”
He smiles, silent so she can keep going. He’ll take his turn when she’s really done.
“And then when we got to talking it was like I knew you already. Like I had your memories in my mind and as you told me things I was like well duh! Yeah, that’s my Spencer! I don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you’re a stranger and the next you’re the only person I ever want to see for the rest of my entire fucking life,” it’s more passionate than she expected as she rambles on.
“I can’t get married on paper without losing my disability, but I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper or someone officially giving us that title one day, I’m content just staying in this bed with you for the rest of time and never moving again.”
He looks like he’s about to explode with love as he presses his lips together in the softest smile. He can’t keep quiet any longer, “are you asking me to spend the rest of my life with you but not marry you?”
She laughs at the realization, “I think so?”
They’re trying to kiss but it ends up more like laughing with their mouths touching and teeth occasionally clashing. It’s hysterical because of the marijuana, sure, but they’re high on each other. It’s everything they’ve ever wanted.
To find something better than drugs; that little purpose in life comes back, that drive to see tomorrow because there are good memories to be made with their favourite person. She’s not afraid of the darkness or the unknowing anymore, Spencer’s her guiding light.
He's holding her close to his chest after a while, "are you feeling better?"
"Of course," she smiles, "I've got my weed and my reid."
His laugh is everything as it fills their space again. This was how the rest of her life was going to feel, and it made her excited for tomorrow.
She’s feeling a lot better later and they need Spencer to help Penelope back at work, but he doesn’t want to leave her. She’s in sweats with a blanket on her lap in the corner of Penelope’s office, a book in her hand and a coffee on the table beside her as she listens to them bicker back and forth.
“If you hack the NSA we can no longer use all this as evidence if he’s brought in alive, Penelope!” Spencer whisper shouts at her, afraid to raise his voice at her but wanting to get his point across.
“Hotch needs the aerial shots like yesterday, and the NSA won't get them to us in time for this kid!” She yells back.
“Call google…” Y/N suggests, flipping through her book.
“What?” Spencer looks at her like she just said the dumbest thing ever.
“They’re taking photos constantly for their maps program, my mom was saying our new roof is now on the updated map. They might have all the photos saved up, if the FBI asks nicely they might work with you…” she explains, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.
“You’re a genius!” Penelope shouts, dialling the phone and getting JJ to work his media magic for contact at google.
Spencer's smile is one she hasn’t seen before, he’s not only proud of her; he looks a little turned on. She just cracked the case by knowing all the little hacks about the internet as part of her day job. She lived online, and now she was saving lives because of it.
It was a good case to help on, she got to see 3 kids go home to their parents and know a terrible man was going to rot in prison for the rest of his sad and pathetic life. The hard part was seeing them go through months of footage of this guy's yard, seeing the child-sized holes he dug up. The disrupted earth and the knowledge of what happened when there wasn’t picture proof.
They go to a meeting after work.
They sit side by side, her leg is crossed and resting over his knee as their arms are linked and fingers interlocked. They really couldn’t be any closer if they tried. They just wanted to listen today, to know they were in a room of people who were trying, people who understood and battled every bad feeling they did.
“Y/N,” the group leader calls her out just before the end of the meeting, “it’s nice to see you back here with Spencer, we heard you found another group but it’s nice to see you here for the support.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but as you can see he is distracting.” She gestured to how they were sitting with a small giggle. “I like coming here if you guys don’t mind me occasionally dropping by?”
“By all means,” another member, carol, spoke up. “Spencer is a great sponsor, it’s nice to see him happy.”
She didn’t know he was a sponsor but he thanks her for the compliment, it turns out almost everyone in his group turned to Spencer for support. It was comforting to everyone there to know the real, chemical and biological reasoning behind their addictions. Spencer provided a sense of calm for all of them, like a younger brother; they all loved him dearly.
They’re still holding hands as they walk home, the sun is still setting and it's barely even 7 pm. All the lights on the street are on, shops are closing and the sidewalks are bare. One store is still open however, across the street, she can see the big storefront window, illuminated with the brightest lights to show off a new collection of rings.
“Do you want one?” He notices her eyes darting to the light like a moth to a flame.
“What?” She zones back in when he stops walking.
“A ring, do you want to get one?” He clarifies with the softest voice.
She nods softly, “you should get one too though, seeing as I asked you and everything.”
He grips her hand tighter and they dart across the street. Giggling like children running to the playground, they’re almost out of breath from laughing as they open the shop door with a ding. Smiles on their faces, joy in their hearts, it makes the shop owner swoon as she sees them.
“Did you just get engaged?” She pries with a knowing smile.
They nod, “we just need some rings,” Y/N adds.
She waves them over, “well I’m going to need our sizes first, here try these on.” She hands them what looks like a thin ruler with holes spaces out.
Y/N attempts to find the right one, fitting the best into the 9 and a half. Spencer fits into the 11 on the first try like he knew already and the woman just laughs at the way Y/N glares at him with love.
“What kind of rings are we thinking? Do you have a preferred cut, style, size, or colour?”
It’s a lot all at once and she’s never really thought about it, “I love my grandma's ring, do you have any vintage styles?”
“I have vintage-style rings as well as some restored rings from the '20s and '30s,” she brings out a jewellery box from under the counter. “These are all appraised and unique.”
When she takes the lid off, Y/N’s eyes widen at the view. There are at least 50 rings in their velvet beds as they wait patiently to be tried on; all different shapes sizes and colours like she said. It feels a little overwhelming at first but then her eyes land on a green one. She takes it out slowly and slides it over her ring finger.
It’s perfect.
Spencer picks out a nice gold band to match, he pays and the lady is so happy to watch them leave hand in hand with their new rings. Dedicated to each other forever and ever, he was her person for the rest of time because he said so and that’s as good as a piece of paper.
She’s a completely different person from who she was when she woke up; twirling down the street with the love of her life, high on loving him as he makes her laugh and holds her hand. He stops in the middle of the street and places his hands on her cheeks, drawing her in closer.
“Loving you is so much fun.”
“Ain’t it fun?” She agrees with a smile before pressing their lips together.
taglist:
@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor
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arminbitchlover · 3 years
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reincarnated lovers (2)
armin arlert x f! reader
summary: after a terrible first date with armin, sasha convices reader to go out to a party but only to have an unexpected turn of events
word count: 2.8k
content warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol use, assault is insinuated but doesn't actually happen
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"YOU LOOK SOOO GOOD," Sasha squeals as you show her your outfit, making your confidence boost significantly.
"YOU TOO, YOU'RE SO HOT FOR NO REASON!" You both keep showering each other with confidence, not caring if your neighbors could hear you shouting.
You don't understand why you're suddenly filled with anticipation to go to some frat house that would be filled with strangers and smell like alcohol and weed, but you not troubled enough to even question it. All you know is that this is your first party as a freshman, and you want to make the most out of it with your best friend.
"So, who's going that you know anyways?" You glance at Sasha through your mirror as you apply lip gloss.
"Too many to count honestly and not to alarm you or anything but Jean will be there too." Sasha reluctantly spoke as you feel your heart drop to your stomach.
You completely forgot that Jean was a part of Sasha's friend group and now you're going to see him for the very first time since your breakup.
"Y/n?" Sasha waves her hand in front of your face and snaps you out of your deep thoughts.
"Sorry, but thanks for telling me." You shake your head as you try to not lose your train of thought again.
You and Sasha finish up on your final touches and make your way to the party as you feel your stomach flipping and hands slightly shake. Every time you start to tell yourself that Jean was just a friend now, you get flashbacks of everything you did as a couple, but you're going to let some guy ruin your first night out in college.
It doesn't take long to arrive and fuck, it didn't take long for the feelings of regret, nervousness, and panic to sink in. When you first arrive, people were already drunk in the front yard as couples made out the staircase leading to the front door. Immediately when opening the door, the bass from the speakers maakes your whole body vibrate with the music and your eyes strain from all the lights that were being cast across the house.
The whole place is already trashed with cups, plates, and different articles of clothing are scattered across the floor. You've always heard about how wild college parties can be, but you didn't expect something as crazed as this.
You turn to Sasha and see her talking to you but could only read her lips that make out, "I'm... drink," and walk away to the kitchen.
Well, shit.
You awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, not recognizing a single person until you feel a hand clasp your shoulder and pull you to a corner.
"Heya, gorgeousss, name's Flochhh..." A drunk man with auburn hair presses you against the wall as he tries to make conversation with you.
"S-Sorry, but I have to go." You try to get away from him only to have your arm get pulled back to the wall.
"Fucking let me go!" You fight to yank your arm away but don't have enough strength to succeed.
"Buttt I wantss to get chu know you babyyy." He leans in, trying to get your faces closer together, but luckily you dodge him quick enough to get out of his grasp.
"Watchu doinn- runninnn from me." He grasps your hand, but right when you were about to get pinned back against the wall again, you hear a stern voice.
"Get your hands off of her." You and Floch turn and see Armin, but this time with slightly smudged eyeliner with a long black sleeve that's complemented with a necklace and silver rings on both of his hands.
"Huhhh-," Floch slurs, finally letting go of you and confronting Armin.
Armin takes a step back with his hands in his pockets, not wanting to cause any issues, and lightly asserts, "This is my lovely girlfriend, so I would appreciate it if you would just back off, that's all."
Armin walkes up to you and wraps his arm around your waist as Floch's face becomes filled with complete disgust.
"So if you'll excuse us, we'll be getting out of your way so you can get as shitfaced as you like." He smirks at Floch and pulls you away, his hand still clutching your waist.
As he takes you away, you immediately notice how his arm feels so natural around you, like it was meant to be there which causes your heartbeat to quicken.
You only see him as the boy you went on an awkward date with, why did he suddenly make you feel this way?
"Thank you for your help, Armin." You bring your hand to the one that was resting on your waist and squeeze it to show your gratitude.
"I was only doing the bare minimum, no need to thank me." He tenderly looks into your eyes with compassion, not aware that he never let go of your waist.
"Well, what were you doing here anyway, you didn't catch me as the party type." You playfully joke as he grabs your arm and enters a large crowd that's dancing to music.
He turns to face you and tilts his head towards your ear to answer, "I heard you were coming, and I wanted to talk to you."
He grabs you by the waist and starts moving to the beat of the song to follow along with everyone surrounding you.
You feel your face start to heat up, finding it so attractive the way he leaned in to talk to you. He's a completely different person from the guy you went out with. This time he seems so much more confident by the way he holds you, speaks to you, and his fashion did a complete 180.
"Well, what's up?" You gain enough courage to wrap your arms around his neck and move your body with his.
You both move completely in sync forgetting for a second that you weren't the only two people in the room. You feel yourself start to get more butterflies as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly pulls you closer and closer. Before you know it, you have the biggest smile on your face as you have the time of your life with Armin.
This is what you've been missing out on, while you had been locked up in your dorm, exhausting yourself with no sign of ending. While Sasha's the one who made you come out of your comfort zone, Armin's the one who making you enjoy yourself the most and you love the idea of that. You love knowing that there's a person who could actually make you a better person and still make you feel comfortable while being alone with him.
"I don't really know how to explain this, but-"
"Y/N!!" Sasha pushes her way into the crowd and finds you and Armin with your bodies only centimeters apart, but seemingly didn't notice the tension between the two of you.
"Armin, I told you to find her and come to the game room!" She scolds Armin and pulls him away from you, making you feel a bit upset that you're not able to be alone with him a bit longer.
She takes you and Armin to another room that you assume were their friends because as soon as they enter, they're greeted with open arms. You immediately notice a small blonde girl and a tall brunette with freckles sitting together on a love seat and you have to admit that they make such a great couple. Sasha introduces you to everyone in the room and while it was pretty packed, it's easy to memorize who everyone is given that Sasha has mentioned them many times before.
Before you had the chance to settle in with everyone you see Connie get out of his seat and clear his throat very loudly to make an announcement.
"I think that it's only fair, since y/n is the newbie of the group, to play a 2v2 intense game of beer pong between me and Jean." Connie widely grins as everyone agrees and starts rioting.
"I heard my name." Jean abruptly enters, at first not noticing that you're in the same room.
"Well, I don't have a partner to play with so-" You feel a bit of shame while speaking but are quickly interrupted.
"I'll play with y/n," Armin speaks up and everyone gets louder, becoming enraptured as if this is the biggest game in history.
"Let's fucking go then." Jean locks eyes with you for a split second before talking to Connie.
You have to admit, while Jean looks like he's taking good care of himself, you don't feel the butterflies and tension that you thought you would. Maybe you're just overthinking everything because he's your first love, but you figure that maybe something would be left for him. You look back at Jean making sure you don't feel anything, but when you turn to face Armin. Butterflies. Even if it was just a tiny bit, something was there.
For him.
"You guys got this, I mean no offense to the other two, but they're either high, tipsy, or a bit of both." Eren walks up to you two as he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.
"I've never played this before, so we'll see." You look down, afraid that Eren or Armin would judge you in some way.
"Neither has Armin, he always watches other people play, but I'm pretty surprised he volunteered himself. So, I'm guessing that your first date went pretty well today." Eren playfully nudges Armin as his face turns into a very light pink.
"Um, yeah it was pretty alright," You reply and smile at Armin, even though you both knew that your date was anything but 'alright'.
"Okay, it's set up, you guys can start whenever," Mikasa speaks with a complete monotone voice as she takes a seat back down next to Historia and Ymir.
You and Armin walk to your side of the table as Connie and Jean do the same, while everyone stands around the two teams ready to start their ear-piercing shouts. You start to feel a bit of pressure right before the game started, anxious that you'll make yourself look like a fool if you don't at least make a single cup.
"We'll give Armin the first shot." Connie cockily smirks and bounces the ping pong ball across the table.
Armin grabs the ball with his fingertips and starts calculating the way he would throw the ball. You have to admit, he looked absolutely adorable while concentrating on making it into the cup. You figure that maybe he thinks the same as you, not wanting to embarrass himself, but he looks so relaxed at the same time. After a few more seconds of critical thinking, he carefully throws the ball and makes it perfectly into the middle cup.
Expectedly, everyone starts screaming, jumping up and down, while some people grab Armin and shake him profusely as their excitement shoots through the roof. You can't help but feel thrilled for him as well, and right when his friends get their hands off of Armin, you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him in for a tight hug. You immediately pull away, unsure if he's uncomfortable being hugged by someone he barely knows, but when you take a step back you see his eyes light up with a small smile.
"Cut it out, love birds. It's my shot," Jean shoots Armin a snarky look and chugs the shot. He wasn't concentrating as much as Armin was, probably because he's played this game many times before, and to your surprise, he recklessly tosses the ball and makes a spiral dunk into the cup at the front of the formation.
"GOOD SHIT, JEAN!" Connie aggressively smacks Jean's back, causing him to jump forward and knock down two cups in the back row.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Connie?" Jean hits the back of Connie's head and they both drink whatever liquid was left in the cup and takes them out of the formation.
You look at the cup that has the ball in and right when you're about to take the shot, Armin swiftly takes it out of your grasp and drinks it as if it's water.
At this point, everyone was making fun of Connie's fuck up and cheering on Armin for chugging the shot like nothing while you're panicking in your thoughts, begging yourself not to make a foot out of yourself.
"Here." Armin hands you the ball and you feel your anxiety kick in as everyone's focus goes directly to you.
You feel your fingertips lightly quiver as you begin to aim the ball into the last cup in the back. Predictably, the ball hits the rim of the cup and doesn't make it in, but Armin still whispers to you a few words of encouragement as Marco picks up the ball from the floor and hands it to Connie. The game continues and luckily you and Armin win because of the two cups Jean knocked down, so while you and Armin are a bit tipsy, the others are completely plastered.
"This... nngh - bullshizz..." Connie clumsily walks over to you and hooks his arm around your neck, somewhat pulling you down while speaking to you.
"Alright, enough." Armin pulls Connie's arm away from you and takes you out of the room, before getting the chance to say bye to anyone.
"Armin-" He leads you to an empty room and doesn't hesitate to lock the door behind him.
"Please, let me talk, I've been waiting all night." Armin pulls you to the edge of the bed and slowly sits down as he tries to figure out how to come out with his news. You gently place your hand on top of his and give it a gentle squeeze, reassuring him.
While you did have a feeling about what he'a going to say, you don't want to jinx anything too good to be true. Even though when you first met Armin it wasn't the greatest first impression, spending time with him at the party made you realize that he's so much more than the awkward guy you went out with. You don't understand how your feelings for him switched up so fast in a matter of a day, but you don't care. At this point, Jean's completely out of the picture and something in you is telling yourself that there's something really special about Armin.
“So, um basically I just want to apologize for everything that happened earlier at the café. I-It’s just that you’re the first girl I’ve ever taken out and I didn’t want to fuck up, but I did absolutely everything wrong. It didn’t help how Sasha was talking so highly of you and god, when I saw your pictures, I thought you were the most perfect person I ever laid my eyes on. Then when I saw you, something in me just clicked that you were meant to be mine and I’m not one to believe in that love at first sight bullshit, so I didn’t know what to do. I just nervous and I didn't know what to do. I knew you were and still are way out of my league even though I felt like you were my person, but I didn't want to mess it up, so I tried to be distant to make it go away and I realized how fucking stupid that was. I'm so sorry for wasting your time and I was hoping we could have a second chance at a first date again to make it up to you." He has such a pained but relieved look on his face when he finishes talking, not looking at you, afraid that he may have done something that he would regret.
"I would actually love that, Armin." You exchange smiles and both stare at each other for a second in comfortable silence.
"Well, let's go then."He stands up and brings out his hand to yours.
"Wait what?" You give him a confused look as you place your hand in his and get up from the bed.
"Are you tired or something?" He furrows his eyebrows with a bit of a pouty face.
"No, not at all." You intertwine your fingers with his and make your way out of the frat house, forgetting say goodbye to anyone.
"So, where are you taking me so late at night?" You ask and turn to look at him to see a small smile plaster on his face.
"I was hoping I could take you back to my apartment to make us a proper meal after all that partying." You feel your heart pounding against your chest as he has the most genuine look in his eyes.
"Absolutely."
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masterwords · 3 years
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Hey! If you're ever bored I would love some more Jess taking care of either hurt oder sick Hotch from you. Maybe he hurts his knee when taking down an unsub or basically whatever you like... I just love the dynamic between Jess and Hotch and the way you write it.
Of course! I love writing about Hotch and Jess, they make me happy. :) I was going to do the knee one but @whump-town did a really (really really) good hurt knee story today so rather than doubling that up, I went with a post-Route 66 story. (I think as many times as I've whumped Hotch, I rarely if ever use Route 66 but now I've got this one and another one in the works.)
**
There was a sacred kind of quiet that existed between them. She never had to convince him to do something, never had to talk him into it, often she only had to look at him. Security flowed from her, she was peaceful and she was his strength when he had none left. None of these things mattered to her while she watched him lying in his hospital bed, sleeping off the nausea he'd been plagued with since coming off of anesthesia. She was ready to take him home before the doctors wanted to release him, she knows him better than they do and she knew he'd do better in his own bed, within his own four walls. He was anxious surrounded by the balloons and the bouquets of flowers, the constant clinical intrusions, the well-meaning friends. He stared through the television when it was turned on and spent most of his time sleeping to avoid talking. She was afraid when he behaved like this, when he shut down, and though they were skeptical, they gave her the benefit of the doubt. When she told him he could go home early if he could show he was ready, he perked up like she knew he would. He responded positively, checkd their boxes, and found himself home in his own bed days before anyone had anticipated. She had the apartment all ready for him, his favorite heated blanket ready in his bed and a brand new one on the couch, extra pillows, meals prepared for an entire week, Jack's homework was in her possession and she'd talked to his teachers. She had incision care supplies, tea, movies and books at the ready. There wasn't anything she hadn't thought of, but she still found herself nervous when she helped him walk through that door, knowing it was all on her now. He was weak and sore and his eyes had a sad quality she hadn't seen in years.
“Bed or couch?” she asked, and he considered the question thoughtfully, almost too deeply. He's weighing too many variables for something so simple and she pressed her hand to the small of his back and guided him toward his bedroom, making the decision for him. It's the safer bet for tonight, she won't have to move him, and he's closer to the bathroom. He's supposed to walk around but not much, and she knew he wasn't long for the world, he'd be sleeping the minute his head hit the pillow. Bending at the waist was hard, he pressed his palm flat against his belly, against the long incision right below his navel and held his breath as he bent to sit. The staples felt strange beneath the bandage, rough and lumpy and wrong. She helped him pull his legs up, settled him inside of a nest of pillows and tucked him in. He looked comfortable and relaxed.
“Where is Jack?” he asked quietly, the first thing he's said since leaving the hospital. She smiled and sat beside him, her hand on his thigh.
“He's staying the night with Penelope,” she replied and he nodded, he remembered now. The drugs they had given him in the hospital were strong, everything was fuzzy. Penelope had stayed with him, he knew that. Dave was in the ambulance with him, Penelope stayed at the hospital, the team were across the country. “We thought it would be better for the first night, for both of you. I'll go pick him up tomorrow. We'll have the whole weekend just the three of us.”
He hadn't asked how much work he'd miss, hadn't asked how long she'd be spending with him. He didn't want to know yet. His eyelids were heavy and his stomach didn't hurt yet, all he wanted to do was fall asleep while he still felt good and relaxed because he knew it wouldn't last. It never did.
“I miss him,” he mumbled and his eyes drifted shut. She almost thought he was going to stay asleep but she moved her hand and he blinked, smiled his lazy half smile at her and she couldn't help but see the teenager her sister brought home all floppy black hair and lopsided grin. Maybe he had a few extra lines now but some of them were smile lines and she never thought that was possible. “Love you Jess,” he whispered, and he was out shortly after. Didn't even give her a chance to say it back, but the remnants of that smile on his face told her that he knew.
He slept through the night and well into the morning, maybe the first really good night of sleep he'd had in months. There were messy dreams but no nightmares, and he woke still feeling good. It was deceptive, it wouldn't last long and they both knew it but the reprieve was welcome. She had been sitting at the table staring into her mug of coffee counting off all of the symptoms they ignored, one after another, he'd been lethargic, forgetful, his appetite had been almost non-existent. She was feeling responsible, almost in tears when he came shuffling out of his room and down the hall running his hand through his mop of bedhead.
“'Mornin',” he mumbled, walking slowly but steady on his feet. She stood and moved toward him, worried he might fall but he made it to the chair and eased himself down using the table as support. “'M fine,” he said and she nodded, blinking back tears. He watched her curiously, trying to figure out why she was crying, why she was hiding it, why she wouldn't talk. “Jess?”
She waved her hand dismissively and forced a teary smile. “It's okay,” she said softly. “It's nothing.”
It was not nothing and he knew it, but he'd let her have it for now. Unlike him, she always let it out, she was just careful when she did, always methodical and wise. She was making him a cup of coffee to keep her hands busy and distract herself from further introspection. He was brimming with anticipation. It would be the first cup of coffee he'd had in as long as he could remember that didn't feel like a necessity, it felt like a luxury.
Judging by the way she was looking at him, the nothing was something big. He couldn't figure it out but he was trying to put her mind at ease so when she asked him how he was feeling he said great, he did his best to look like he believed it for her sake. One less thing to worry about, one less way he's let her down. The incision felt strange when he stood, like one wrong move and his insides would come tumbling out so he kept his hand there as insurance and went to grab an ice pack from the freezer. He intended to show her that he could be good, he would take care of himself, put her mind at ease. He could be grumpy and he could hurt but he wouldn't let her see him fall into despair, not this time. Reaching his arm upward was difficult, ill-advised, the wound was pulled tight when he extended and setting his features, he took a sharp intake of breath before trying again. She was watching, he knew she was. He could feel the staples pull tight and though he had his eye on his favorite ice pack in the back, he went for the one nearest him. Between he and Jack someone always needed ice, half the freezer was full of gel packs in varying shapes and sizes, there were plenty to choose from and he was glad he'd placed some right in the front so Jack could help himself. Buzz Lightyear stared up at him from his hand while he shuffled to the couch and eased himself down. She was watching him from the table, watching him with eyes trained to take in every minutiae, every detail he tried to keep hidden. Spending so much time with him it wasn't any wonder she could profile as well as he could, at least she could profile him. She brought him his coffee once he was settled and sat down beside him, the two of them stubborn and silent.
“I dreamed about Haley,” he said softly, leaning his head back against the cushion. It had been on his mind for days now and he couldn't shake the feeling it had left him with. Maybe if he opened up to her, she would do the same for him. “She looked beautiful. Older, like she should be. Like us.”
“Did she call you an idiot?”
“In her own way,” he replied. The gel was getting softer beneath his fingertips, ice soothing the ache behind the staples. He didn't tell her about Foyet, he just focused on Haley and her smile. “I miss her, Jess.”
She nodded and slid across the couch, pressed up against him. “Me too.”
“What's the matter?” he asked her after another lull in the conversation, when it became apparent that he would have to do some digging. She sucked in a deep breath and pursed her lips. “Something is wrong. Please tell me.”
“You died on that table,” she whispered, hardly able to put it into words. “They said you coded.” It settled over them, suffocating her beneath its weight. Knowing was one thing, saying it, making it concrete and real was quite another. He just nodded thoughtfully, averted his eyes so she could cry without scrutiny.
“I did,” he replied. “It isn't the first time.” Thinking he could bring some levity to the situation, he gauged her response and realized it had been the wrong thing to say. “I'm okay, Jess. I'm here. Maybe I couldn't pass through a metal detector...” Another ill timed joke. He wasn't good at joking, always picked the wrong moment. She hated the way he did that, poking fun at himself, making himself the butt of jokes. It was a coping mechanism, she understood it, and she hated it.
“I missed all of the signs,” she whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Tears burned behind her lids and she blinked them free. “I see you every day. I should have noticed something.”
“Woah,” he cut in, scowling now. “None of this is your fault. I missed it all, too. It turned out okay.” It was easy to miss the signs, he felt terrible every day. He didn't eat right, rarely got good sleep, burned the candle at both ends.
They existed in intervals after that, small bursts of conversation and long stretches of quiet. Asleep more than he was awake, he barely remembered the first few days home. The pain held him still, kept him sedentary when he itched to move. Jessica buzzed around the apartment cooking and cleaning, Jack talked and talked and between the two of them Aaron had to do next to nothing beyond sitting or sleeping. If he tried, he was met with stern opposition. They took short walks around the neighborhood, stopping frequently, and Jack was getting used to how easy it was to talk them into getting him a treat from the corner store because it gave Aaron a minute to sit on the bench outside.
Roy stopped by after playing Bingo or Bridge, played video games with Jack noisily in the front room while Aaron slept in his bedroom. Dave was texting him, asking how he was, letting him know how the team was doing. He was keeping tabs and Aaron could tell he was worried by how fast he replied to each text, like he was staring at the phone and willing it to buzz.
“How long are you gonna be out?” Derek asked, sitting at the foot of Aaron's bed mere hours after the jet had landed. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes told Aaron he hadn't had any real sleep in days and Aaron was certain his go bag was still in his car, it was likely he hadn't even gone home yet. Shrugging, he considered the question thoughtfully.
“They said six to eight weeks,” he said and watched the stricken look cross Derek's features. “I'm hoping for four.”
“You should take eight,” Derek replied sternly. He would rather the four, he didn't want to run the team again, but he couldn't shake the way he'd felt watching Aaron drop to the ground right beside him. The sound his head made when he hit. “Spend time with your family. Now that we've got a new Section Chief, you can afford to take a breather.”
“Is that an order, sir?” Aaron asked with a smirk. Derek glared at him, friendly but serious. The way Aaron had tried to excuse himself before falling, he stared at his friend and wondered what would have happened had he managed it in time. Would he have made it to his office before passing out? And then what? How long until any of them knew what happened? The implications, the seriousness of what happened weighed hard on him.
“We'll talk at four,” Derek said softly, conceding. He knew being home and idle for so long was going to kill Aaron, he wanted to tell him he wouldn't even speak to him again until eight weeks had passed but he couldn't be so cruel. And he already missed him, somehow. “But I'm gonna push for six if Cruz asks.” Aaron just nodded, it wouldn't pay to argue with Derek while he was still so weak, while he couldn't lift anything more than his coffee mug or drive a car. He couldn't even lift his legs into bed without help, there was no leverage. He'd have to wait. Changing the subject, he asked how everyone was doing, how the case went, whether they had anything waiting in the wings or if they'd get a break.
“Everyone has today off,” Derek answered, grabbing Aaron's glass of water from the nightstand when the man looked at it longingly one too many times. He handed it to Aaron and continued without missing a beat. “We'll sort things out tomorrow.”
“You're here on your day off?” Aaron asked, staring into the glass of lukewarm water. “What's wrong with you?”
“Glutton for punishment,” was all Derek said and he scooted himself up to the head of the bed and grabbed for the TV remote. Jessica had brought a television into his room to keep him company and he hadn't turned it on yet, wasn't overly interested in it. It hummed to life and Derek flipped through the channels like he lived there, settling on some bad daytime talk show. He folded his arms over his chest and stared at the television, long legs crossed at the ankles. Aaron wanted to ask how long he intended to stay, what he was doing, but the company was welcome, it was nice not to be a burden on Jessica for a short time. Things never felt forced with Derek, awkward maybe but not forced. He knew what Derek was doing anyway, he didn't need to ask. He didn't need Derek to tell him that he'd been worried and he had to ease his own mind before he could do it for the team when they asked. They would wait for him to give them the go ahead, trust him when he told them how Aaron was doing and what to expect. He wasn't sure what he would say, he had time to figure it out. For the time being he was content just to sit on Aaron's ridiculously comfortable bed and zone out watching shitty TV. He could do it at home too but knowing it might irritate his friend, he decided to stick around.
Derek fell asleep first, his chin dropped heavily into to his chest while he sat up, and the deep rhythm of his breathing lulled Aaron to sleep beside him not long after. Jessica noticed the silence and shut the door so the noise from Roy and Jack's video games wouldn't disturb them but she left the television on and breathed a sigh of relief, more than ready to take a short afternoon break.
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shinyrockalaska · 3 years
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Acceptance (or: Charlie's incident)
Summary: Charlie decides to drink Amortentia, just to see if it could affect him, so he could feel the same things everyone else around him seems to feel. Unfortunately, he didn't check who's Amortentia he was drinking...
Word count: 3.3k (my longest fic so far!)
More about the inspiration for this at the end of the post!
Enjoyy <3
--
--
He didn't plan it.
Well, yes, he thought about it a few times before, but only theoretically. He never intended to try and do something so drastic to change himself.
But he was in the sixth year and he was seventeen and everybody already had too many expectations of him.
They all acted as if they knew everything about him, who he was going to be, what he was going to do... he couldn't change it, he couldn't tell them they're wrong because he didn't know what was right. Yes, he's a kind and caring person. Yes, he sucks at school because he just can't focus or stop daydreaming. He's messy and obsessive and is definitely going to work with dragons after graduation. They all knew it, and so did he. But that's it, the rest was a blur.
He should've felt lucky. At least he always knows what he wants to do after graduation. Some of his friends, like Tulip and Ben, still had no clue, and they were all stressed out about it. But they all somehow fitted in. With the outsiders, yes, but most of the time Charlie felt like he's an outsider even to the outsiders.
Some may say it's because no one has ever seen him wearing any short clothes, not even in the summertime. He always walked around hiding in his big green coat. Or maybe because of his weird specific fears, that no one else seemed to share or to be scared of it as much as he did. Not even Ben. Or probably, because he never dated anyone and never talked about it with anyone. Charlie thought it was all of those things, that made him himself, but, weird. He never hated himself and was quite proud of being different. But in the end, it doesn't matter. Even the proudest quirky kids would choose to be normal - to fit in - if they could. So you can see why now, at seventeen, he felt that desire to fit in.
Every dinner with his family, his mum would nag him to try and find a nice girl. More for herself than for him, really. Because most wizards and witches find their partners at school. All of his friends already started to go out with each other and whatever student they liked at the moment. There were couples everywhere. EVERYWHERE. And he still couldn't figure out what's wrong with him and why he's not interested in any of that. Even the religious kids, the anxious kids, the awkward kids- all talked about their crushes non-stop. Not everyone dated, of course, but they all talked about it, and the pressure was high. All he ever heard around him was sex, kissing, dates and love. Whatever that was.
The worst part was that his friends were actually supportive.
At first, they would beg him to tell them who his secret crush is, which student he liked. They wouldn't listen whenever he told them that he doesn't have one. But they all calmed down after a while and he explained that he just doesn't care about this stuff. He just doesn't.. feel the need. And they accepted it. Accepted him. But now he was just being put in another box. They stopped talking about their crushes with him because they knew he wouldn't understand. And that was just not true. But could he argue with him when it's so clear they know him better than he knows himself?
So that was the situation he was in. That's why after a super frustrating Amortentia class, where everyone around him kept blushing and giggling at the smell of their own and everyone else's cauldrons, where his friends all sent him sad smiles and kept telling him how jealous they are that he has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, where he had to lie and tell Snape fake smells because, of course, he smelled nothing, he just couldn't take it anymore. He decided it was time for a change.
So when the class was dismissed, he stayed nearby. And when Snape left the classroom, he scooped some leftover potion into the weird-shaped glass bottle and drunk it without thinking, without hesitating, and without even knowing who's cauldron it was.
It's Amortentia, after all. The strongest love potion. If it increases those love feelings to others, then he might actually feel something, be somewhat normal.
He felt guilty for doing it and had to stop himself from running to professor Snape so he would give him the antidote right away before anything bad will happen. He knew the potion just cause obsession and trouble, but he had to know, at least for a little while, what's it like to be kind of in love.
At first, he didn't feel anything different. Lunch was normal, Care of magical creatures was normal. He felt dizzy at History of magic, but maybe it had more to do with the boring lesson than the potion itself. Charlie was disappointed but somewhat relieved when still nothing had changed by dinner time.
That is, until, Merula has entered the room.
He forgot that tiny, little, important detail that now he was madly in fake love with whoever brewed that potion. Which was, how unlucky for him, Merula. But now he didn't care about it. All he wanted to do was stay with her from now on and forever.
"Charlie, are you okay? You look a little sick," Barnaby commented about his appearance. "And a bit pale," Tonks added, but Charlie preferred to ignore his friends' concerns. "Have you ate something bad?" Rowan questioned, "is it because of potion class?" That question made him nervous, of course. "N-no! I'm just tired.. w-why would it have to do anything with p-potion class?"
"Because you smelled nothing, right? You're not upset about it, right?" They all looked at him with that same sad-apologetic smile as always. He hated it. Just because he's different doesn't mean he needs to be treated differently. "Guys, I'm fine. I don't care. It doesn't matter. Being yourself is the best thing anyone can be! Why would I want to be anything else but myself?" Maybe he was trying too hard to hide it. He sighed, "please just stop giving me those sorry faces. I don't need your pity, I-"
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Merula leaving the room. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said and hurried up after her.
He couldn't pick up the nerves to talk to her so he just followed her around to the Slytherin house in the dungeons. Then, he had to go to sleep, but he couldn't stop staring at the ceiling, smiling, and dreaming about Merula.
"What's up with him?" Ben asked as he entered their dorm. Jae shrugged, "I think he's been drugged." And when Ben's face showed panic he laughed, "just kidding, he's probably thinking about dragons."
--
Normally, Charlie would be tired after sleeping less than six hours, but he had an amazing dream about him and Merula on a date with candles and chocolate and all he wanted was to feel her hand in his own.
"Are you alright, Charlie..? You still look pretty sick," his friends told him at breakfast. "I'm more than fine, I've never felt better," he said with this wide fuzzy exaggerated smile and the fake spark in his eyes. He barely touched his food, he just kept staring at Merula. And his friends noticed.
"Why are you looking at the Slytherin table? Who are you starting at? Awwww did you finally got a crush?" Normally he'd be embarrassed by this question, which always made him feel unease. But this time, he wanted to be with Merula so badly, that he welcomed any help. "It's Merula, can you maybe get her attention? I really want to kiss her! And maybe.. more? I already thought about names for our kids! Human names even! We'll have a perfect life near the dragon reserve!" He babbled.
"What?!?! You can't be serious! That's- that's just- no!!" They were shocked and a bit disgusted. "It doesn't make sense, Charlie.. you hate Merula!" Talbott said, making Charlie angry, "well, maybe you don't know everything about me!" He shouted, and many students' heads turned around to look at him. "Ever thought about it? That maybe I am more than the way you see me? More than the things you see in me?!" He kept shouting, making his friends feel embarrassed, as they lowered their heads. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Charlie frowned. "Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to ask out Merula!" He shouted this sentence too, causing Merula to look at him, disgusted, and run out of the great hall immediately. He shot one last angry look at his friends, before storming out of the room, after Merula.
"As you all know I'm an expert in love and-" Andre started to say quickly but got cut off by Diego. "I think we can all agree I'm the love expert."
"True," Jacob's sibling said, "you promised to get me dates at the third year and you still haven't! Diego's been more helpful than you.."
Andre was irritated, "That.. that doesn't matter!! Can't you see that Charlie is-"
"Poisoned!" Rowan cut him off, "he's drugged on Amortentia!"
"No way! It's too hard to- oh no! He probably drunk it yesterday after class!" Penny was frightened.
"Dang it, Charlie! What do we do now??"
"We'll have to tell a professor. Even if he'll hate us. We have to do it before he does something stupid like actually making a move on Merula!" Rowan stated, horrified.
--
"Merula wait! Please, let's talk!" Charlie shouted, running behind her, and she surprisingly stopped. He caught her a few halls past the great hall, on the way to the dungeons. she almost got away from him. He took her hand and started talking, blushing, stumbling on his words. "I can't imagine my life without you! We will be so perfect together, don't you think? Let's run away and start a family together! Do you like dragons? I was thinking we could live next to the Romanian dragon sanctuary and have at least two kids. Do you like the names Violet and Jade? I think they're perfect! I picked them because it's like your eyes and the Slytherin colour. And also not dragon names! Oh, I feel so safe and happy around you. Can you tell me about yourself and your family and life and beliefs and every little detail possible?" He was now hugging her, clutching to her as close as he can.
"This is unsettling in so many ways, Charlie. Stop it now. I don't know what sick game you're playing but cut it now before I'll have to hex you, or call someo-"
"Game? No, no! This is love, baby! Don't you see it?" Charlie felt heartful, in a way he never felt before. And he liked it, being fearless. Feeling warm and being somehow full of love. "Did someone dared you to do it? Have you been drinking elixir to induce euphoria? Oh no, don't tell me you're-"
"Merula! I'm so sorry for Charlie's behavior." McGonagall called out from the end of the hall, followed by Charlie's friends. "What are you doing here?! Go away! I don't need you! I have my Merula! Don't ruin this for me! I deserve to have love too!" Charlie screamed and clung to Merula even more than before.
"Charles Weasley come with me right now!" McGonagall was furious. No student has ever acted like that.
"No! I'm staying here with the love of my life!" He tried to kiss Merula's hand who just pulled it out of his reach immediately, disgusted and uncomfortable. "Don't talk to me ever again, freak." She said and walked away.
"No! Don't leave me! We can make it work!" Charlie screamed as he hurried up after Merula, who now went from fast walking to running. McGonagall grabbed Charlie's arm and stopped him. "you're coming with me now, I cannot believe you!" she said loudly, disappointed.
"No!!! You can't stop me from being happy and in love! This is me, just go away! I have to get Merula back!" He was hysterical, tears running down his face. He cried so much his head started to ache, but he didn't care. he had to follow Merula. Had to be with her. He'd rather die, give up on dragons even, than not spend every single minute of his life now with Merula.
But McGonagall pulled him away from any hope to fulfill his dreams, all the way to her office. He kept cursing his friends, who looked very ashamed and worried, as he got dragged away from them. None of them laughed at the scene he caused.
"Drink this. NOW." McGonagall ordered, but Charlie refused. "I will not let you drug me and prevent me to have this! Let! Me! Go!" He screamed, caughting McGonagall off guard. But it wasn't the first time something like that happened, it just never got out of hand to be like... Charlie's case.
"Stupify." McGonagall cast the spell on Charlie, with a heavy heart. She hates using magic on students. Still, she poured the love-potion antidote liquid down his mouth and watched as he slowly got back his consciousness. She looked at him, all confused as he tried to remember what happened.
"Who did this to you? Was it Merula? She didn't look quite satisfied with your obsession but that doesn't mean it's not her. So tell me, who drugged you with love potion?" McGonagall asked him in both compassion and anger.
"What? Oh you mean the Amortentia.." he lowered his head, "it was.. me?"
"What?! This is beyond belief, Charlie! Why would you do that to yourself? You know it's a dangerous potion! You know the consequences! I expected better than yo-"
"That's exactly the problem!" He cut her off, rudely, "Everyone always expecting all sorts of things from me! I can't be everyone's version of me! I don't want to! I barely even want to be me! You wouldn't understand but I just had to fit in!!"
Charlie never in his life yelled like that at anyone or anything, especially not a professor. But he didn't care anymore. He was sick of everything. McGonagall was surprised again, it was very unlike him to behave that way.
"I- Charlie, listen." He looked at her a bit worried and ashamed. "You don't need to be fixed. You know that using potions and magic to change yourself is bad, especially if it's illegal.." she gave him an alerting look. "I can't tell you how to feel or who to be, but I want you to know that every person is different than the others and there is absolutely not a thing that is wrong with being yourself. Being different is good-"
"As someone who's been different his entire life, I can assure you it's not. Everyone always says it's wonderful to be extraordinary and different and special and whatever, but even the proudest weirdest kids would choose to be like everyone else and fit in if they could.." Charlie said, focusing on the wall rather than McGonagall's eyes, playing with the zipper of his coat.
"Maybe you need to have more pride, Charlie. You're a very unique person, let those special things about you define you by your choice, instead of being ashamed of them. I encourage you to find that strength to let go of the shame and fear in you and to just.. be yourself."
"Pride is stupid," Charlie murmured quietly, "it's something I had no control over. it's not a drawing I made that I put a lot of effort and time into it, so I'm proud of it. No. It's something I couldn't even choose, something I can't change. There's no pride in having no control."
"Well, could you have chosen to be a Gryffindor?"
"Uh, no, but.." Charlie went quiet, thinking.
"I know, you wanted to be in Gryffindor, but if you happened to be in Hufflepuff, wouldn't you still have some house pride in you?" McGonagall asked him.
"I guess.." Charlie shrugged, still upset.
"We cherish pride in us, based on what we learn from our surroundings as we grow up. But society is not always right. In fact, most of the time it's even wrong. And so, you need to be your own society, sometimes. Be the change you want to see in the world, and even if you're different than the way it seems society tells you to be, it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. You need to accept yourself just like you would've accepted any of your friends, and just like you would want the world to accept you. Even if you turn out to be completely different than the person you thought you are. understand?"
Charlie nodded. He felt, not for the first time, like McGonagall can read minds. She answered all of his worries and questions and feelings, with her calming words.
McGonagall let him off of his classes for the rest of the day and he decided to write a letter to his family, explaining how he feels. He asked them to be kind and understanding, as he has no control or any choice over his feelings. He wrote down everything that bugged him in the past years. The letter was far too long, and contained seven full written pages. In the end, Charlie decided he won't send it yet. he felt better, but still wasn't ready to face his family's reaction to his incident and different behavior. He felt as if it might disappoint them. it was ridiculous, he knew, they would love him no matter what. Even so, seeing those words, his words, written down in those pages, in his own handwriting, made him smile. It was his choice, to write them, to use them. And he won't let anyone tell him it's wrong.
At dinner, he sat with his friends as usual, worried about what his friends might say. He didn't want them to be worried about him, but he knew they were, after what he did...
"Hey guys, thanks for, uh.. you know... watching out for me.." he said, nervously.
"Sure thing! How are you feeling, Charlie? Better? You're not mad at us for calling McGonagall, right..?" His friends were just as worried as him.
"I'm feeling much better, relieved. I don't know what I would've done if you didn't call McGonagall.. you really saved me.."
He could see Merula sitting next to Ismelda, and glaring at him, furiously.
"You could've chosen a better person to fake fall in love with," Andre joked.
"Yeah, even in this I didn't have a choice or any luck," Charlie laughed, a bit uncomfortable as this subject was still upsetting sometimes.
"How much trouble did you get to from that talk with McGonagall? We haven't seen you all day, so we figured you've got punished real hard.." Ben said, carefully.
"Well, I need to write an apology letter for Merula.. but I got off easy."
"Your mother's not going to like it.." he heard one of them saying, but even that part was okay.
"McGonagall promised not to tell my parents if I'll agree to meet her once a week and talk to her about what's bothering me, instead of bottle it inside me... she wants me to have more pride, and she trust me to choose the right time for me to tell my parents about this incident."
His friends smiled at him, and he smiled at them back.
He tried not to feel nauseous, remembering how foolishly he acted that day, convinced he has to fit in. He still sometimes thought it would be better for him to be like the rest. But he can't. So when he felt that way, he reminded himself of McGonagall's words and named all the good things in his life, and the things he does have control over.
Charlie knew from the moment he drunk the Amortentia, that life might not be easy for him, always having to be the odd one out.
But it was his own life, and he should be proud of what he has.
---
Wow! Finally! I had this idea for like a year and I've been trying to write it ever since, so this definitely took time...
---
--
I really like how it turned out, I hope you'll like it too. This is how I see Charlie.
The fic was inspired by another beautiful fanfic (here's a link) where Charlie almost drinks the potion but ends up not doing it.
Even though it's not canon, to me, Charlie is the closest thing we have to an aromantic and asexual representation, and it's just so, so important to have that. It took me years to feel comfortable with me being like this, I'm still working on it, and I think a big part of it is because we don't see anything about it in the media or anywhere else really.
Self-acceptance is harder when it comes to aros and aces because it's just so different than other romantic/sexual orientations, it's hard to define lack of attraction, but it doesn't mean it's bad!
Everyone is valid, and I know knowing this doesn't make it immediately better, but it helps to remember it. I don't want people to be afraid of who they are, to feel like they need to be fixed, to have to hide away.
So now, it's the end of pride month but you and I- we're still here! And we can still shine bright and be proud of ourselves for coming so far! The truth is always right, don't be afraid of it. 💜💚
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Dangerous Love (Pt. 08 of 13)
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Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader
Word count: 2.9K
Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?
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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}
×
Home isn't Always a Place
You're pushed forward, a gun on your back. You step down the ramp, the sunlight blinding you for a while. The headquarters were built here, in some sort of field. There as soldiers everywhere, and they're immediately aware of you. Of course they are, you're a threat. With a gun on your hand, seven bullets means seven men on the ground, crying in pain. You hardly miss.
“Sister!” A yell gets your attention, and you turn to its source. Harley comes running, throwing her arms around you. “So good to see you. Where have you been?”
In paradise. “Same place as I've been for the last year. Isn't it obvious?” Shrugging your shoulders casually, you try not to look to misplaced. Wait. Why would you look misplaced here?
“Well, now we get to have fun and some family bonding.” As she speaks, a soldier walking by gets her attention. “Hey, you. Can you help me with something?” She says in a flirting tone and walks away.
“Now it's a party.” A rough voice says, and you soon recognize the owner.
“Killer.” You greet him with a smile and a quick hug. “Nice to see you'll be here to have my back. Who else is here?”
“Deadshot is arguing with a soldier. Diablo is seated in some corner whining.” He smiles, gesturing at his left. “Long time no see. How's life?”
“Life's fine. As fine as it could be.” You start walking over where Deadshot is, watching as the soldier rolls his eyes. Floyd is gesticulating a lot, which means he's pissed.
“I won't have it like it was the last time. Now go, be a good puppy and tell this to your boss.” He says, turning his back at the man. “Havoc. Hi.” He says, exchanging a glance with Killercroc. “Ready for another stupid mission?”
“It's not like we have a choice, right? I–”
“Listen up, assholes! Your dirty things are in these boxes. So change and let's get the hell out of here. You have five minutes.” A man shouts, and everyone rolls their eyes.
You make your way to your things, and as you expected, your box is filled with your old clothes. All in shades of lilac, purple and pink. As usual, the soldiers just stand around you, not caring too much, as you change. You never liked that. Harley doesn't seem to care, and many eyes lay on her. But you do care. And you care a lot more now.
“Guys. A little help?”
Floyd and Killer grab some of the dark plastic bags that lie on the the floor, as you take a dark purple sleeveless jumpsuit. You move to stand near a wall, and the guys turn their backs at you, holding the bags high so you're shielded from anyone's eyes. They did the same on the first time, and you're very thankful for that.
“Thanks, guys. I'm done.” You tell them, fixing the jumpsuit on your body. The hard material makes you feel strong, like Havoc again.
“You're welcome.” Killer says.
“To the trucks! Now!” A man barks and you have no choice but to do as he says.
All of you go in the back of one of the trucks, together. Harley seems to be the only one excited about it, since she's trying to flirt with a soldier named Tom. You wonder what Joker would think about that. Oh. He's stuck on a bed for the rest of his life. He won't be saying anything, you bet.
As you move through the town, you can't help but think about what you did before leaving the house. The kiss. You can't believe you actually kissed him. What in hell were you thinking? You're very brave to do such a crazy thing like that. And you should've at least stayed to see his expression. To see if he was mad or not. But even if he didn't like it, you trust him enough to know he won't break his promise. He still keep helping you after you beat him up twice, so it's not a peck in the lips that will make him change his mind.
Being sure of this is a weird feeling. Your head is so much clearer now, you're not as scared as you were. And you're liking who you're becoming. This mission is just a inconvenience. It'll be over and you'll head back to the house, back to the way of getting a real life. A good life, a life you'll actually enjoy having.
You stop suddenly, and you're ordered out of the truck. “There's a small group here. Eyes open. They might have put mines here so... Don't blow up.”
You get two guns, one in your hand as you walk the perimeter. Harley stays close to Tom, but it doesn't bother you. You walk near Killercroc and Floyd, your head too far from this place.
“Hey.” Floyd elbows you. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I'm just... Thinking.” Shrugging your shoulders, you need to focus on being casual. “How's you daughter?”
“She's great. Best student of her class and she's in a hella good school. The best of Gotham.” He looks at the sides, making sure nobody is too close. Killercroc is a few steps ahead and he doesn't really care about these stuff anyways. “You will never guess who put her there. And also guaranteed her a good University, any one she chooses.”
“That's freaking amazing, Floyd. Who did all that?” It couldn't be Amanda. She's not that good.
“Batman.” The mention of Bruce makes you blush, your heart aching from his absence. You look down, running a hand through your hair.
“Batman? In like the man you hate with all your strength?”
“How can I hate someone who does that for my kid? No, no. I respect him. Even admire him now, doing this after I tried to kill him half a dozen times.”
“Floyd, he's...” You need to let out out your chest, and having someone to talk about it would be nice. And you know you can trust Floyd, even more now that his hate for Bruce is gone. So the words roll out your tongue in a whisper as you both stop walking. “...Batman is the one helping me... Rehabilitating me.”
“Oh. So the rumors are true. I knew they took you somewhere else, just didn't know where.”
“You two. Walk.” Someone says and you start moving again.
“Yes, he... I'm going well. I...” Floyd looks down at you, raising one eyebrow. “He said it was mostly just me, but he did help. He treated me with kindness, believed me. I don't know how to explain but I'm different.”
“I did notice something was off with you. But I'd never guess.”
“Really? I was trying to keep it cool.” As you speak, three man come from the corner, immediately shooting at you. You duck behind a car, peaking just enough to lay eyes on them and aim. But they're easily put down without you having to shoot.
“All clear!” Harley says, smiling.
“So...” You continue when you start walking downtown again. “I didn't want to come, but he promised me it would be the last time.”
“Uhm... He's making promises?”
“Yes.” You don't get his tone. “He's very kind to me. Unlike anyone else... He even threw me a birthday party.”
“Happy birthday by the way, and sorry it's a little late.” You turn the corner, carefully at first. “How kind?”
“Kind.” What else can you say? That his touch is so soft, so gentle that you couldn't help but fall in love with him? “He... Cares. I think.”
“You fell for him.” Floyd bursts out, and it's not even a question. It's an affirmative. How did he get there so fast?
But you're fast to dissimulate. “What? No.”
“It's called Stockholm Syndrome.”
“It's not like that!” You exclaim. “You know I've been kidnapped before. Twice by the Joker, who kept me hostage for five months... I did spent three of them just to play tricks on his mind and get some of his money but you get what I mean. Batman didn't held me hostage. He spoke to me, helped me get clean of the drugs they used to give me at Belle Reve, he... He won't let the door locked anymore. He wants me to be able to live in society again.”
“I was teasing you. But since you went into great lengths to defend your relationship with him... You did fell for him.”
“Shut up, Floyd.” You mutter, too much on your head. Increasing your pace, you reach Killer, walking beside him.
Your feelings are pretty clear, as much as you don't want to admit it. And hear it like that just makes it even worse. The kiss... All you think is about that kiss you shouldn't have given.
You're thankful when the action starts, because you have something else to focus on. It doesn't resumes in shooting, you eventually get into hand to hand combat. And you can deal with it pretty well. Of course, it's easier because the guys have your back. You guess they somehow noticed you have no pleasure on doing this anymore. Diablo, as usual, doesn't participate much.
When you stop, hours later, you feel your body complaining a little, but you know it'll get worse. But you also know you can deal with that. And you will, because this time you have somewhere nice to return to.
The commotion goes on for a couple of days. It gets messy, and it only gets worse when the granades start falling from the skies. You're all bruised up again, but not as bad as you were in the hell hole. How is it possible that you're in the middle of a war and you're not as much hurt as you were inside a prison?
As you approach the terrorists base, things get worse, and even the soldiers seem to get anxious. So that means they're extra evil to you. One of them denied you a bottle of water, what made Killercroc almost get his head blown out for arguing with the man. That reminds you that you don't have an explosive this time, but the soldiers told you they will put a bullet through your head if you try anything. But they can rest their minds because the only thing you want is to end this soon.
A week later, the soldiers decide to settle for the night, and push you into a half destroyed house. Harley uses all the hot water, so you have to endure the cold. But it feels good to clean up, and you can take a look at your wounds. A few cuts and purple bruises, nothing you can't deal with. The only bad part of the times you stop to rest a little before start moving again, is that your mind involuntary floats back to Bruce. You can't help it, everything comes back. When he left his gala to dance with you, the dreams, the birthday surprise, the kiss... Why can't you take this man out of your head?
You're alone in a room where half of the wall is down. The others are downstairs, but you want to be alone. You can see the stars from here, and you wonder if Bruce is staring at them too. “Hey, freak.” A soldier comes in, throwing a small radio at you, that looks like a very rustic cellphone. “Someone wants to speak to you. You have five minutes.”
Watching as he leaves, you lie back on the floor, approaching the radio from your ear and mouth. You know who it is, and your stomach goes crazy, with a thousand butterflies flying around.
“Hi.” He answers. “How are you?”
His voice is so familiar, like home. “I'm surviving. Enduring. Just want this to be over soon.”
“It will. And you'll be back here.”
“I hope so... We're near their base now. So only a couple of days more and we'll reach it. Take them down.” You close your eyes, hoping that his voice will be enough to make you dream of him tonight. You would give anything to have him here... Or to be back home. You mean, back at his house. “How's everything there?" Stupid question, he's fine, everything is fine.
“It's weird not to have you here.”
A smile comes to your lips. “Is it?” You whisper, taking a deep breath. You're scared you'll lose control, and the words will roll out your tongue. “Our time is almost over but... Thank you, I... It's good to speak to you.”
“Just remember I'm waiting for you.” You hear his heavy breath, as if he's suffering too, tired, exhausted.
Then you hear a little static, and you know he's gone... There's a weight on your chest and you can't help but let a single tear roll down your cheek. You keep the radio near your face, as if you could hold Bruce with a little longer. “I miss you so much.” You say, barely recognizing your weak voice.
“I miss you too.” The sudden answer scares you, your eyes widened.
“I- I thought you hanged up.”
“No, I'm still here. And I miss you very much, sweetheart.”
The pet name makes you lose it, and now you're crying. “Bruce, I–”
“Time's up, Havoc.” The soldier comes back, hand reached out. “Say goodbye to your protector.”
“I gotta go. I... I miss you.” You burst out before another sentence, far more dangerous, leaves your lips. You give the man the radio back, curling up on the floor, bracing yourself.
From tomorrow, you'll fight harder. You need to go back.
• • •
“Their base–” The soldier who announces is shot in the throat, right beside you. You're duck behind the barricades, waiting for the big guns to arrive. You cannot approach with the risk of being blown up, and they're not allowed to spend you just yet.
“That's it. Shoot to kill, that's an order.” The commandant yells, and the bodies start dropping faster. But not from your gun. You keep aiming for their knees, but another bullet always finds the man you leave collapsed on the floor. “Are you deaf, slut?” He barks at you, leaving his post and pulling you up by the shoulders. “Don't you think you can trick me just because the Bat took you into his wings. Do what you do best and kill those terrorists.”
“I don't kill, sarg.” You tell him, making your way back to your post. But the grabs your arm violently, squeezing right on a wound you got. You groan, trying to pull away.
“You don't kill? Nice try. You will do as I say!” He yells right to your face, and you can feel his disgusting breath. But you won't back down, and you won't take a life just because he told you to.
“I don't kill.” You repeat, standing as tall as you can, head up raised up to look the man in the eye.
His gun makes sudden contact with your face, in the apple on the right cheek. Your head jerks to the side, and you're knocked down, a sharp pain spreading through the skull.
“Hey! Leave her alone!” Killercroc comes running, and you see through the corner of your eyes as he engages in a fight with the man.
You're done here. Crawling away from the fight, you hide yourself behind a building, seated on the floor and resting your back against the wall. They seem to be dealing with that very well, so they don't need you. You're tired of fighting, tired of being in pain.
“Havoc?” Floyd calls, startling you a little. “Are you ok? Your cheek is–”
I'm (Y/N). “Yes, I'm ok. But I'm not going back there.”
“You'll have to tell them you're feeling unwell or else–”
“I don't care, ok? I just need to go back home. I'm sick and tired of this shit.” You burst out.
“Home?” He questions, not seeming too excited to head back to the battlefield.
“Yeah, just... I'm confused, I'm hurt. I'm not thinking straight.”
“I have to head back. Sorry.”
Nodding, you close your eyes, taking in the explosions and shooting. The only thing you want is peace now, silence... Bruce's arms. A heavy, cold rain starts falling, and you're soaking wet in a matter of seconds. Your head spins around, and you lie down, eyes closed tight.
Suddenly, you're pulled into a heavy sleep.
• • •
“Lucky bitch. We should be taking her back to where she belongs.” A rough voice wakes you up, and you sit up, eyes opening slowly. You're in a truck, in the back, on the metal floor. Your hands are tied by huge metal handcuffs, that cover both hands, reaching the middle of your forearm. It's heavy.
“Let's teach her a lesson. Just like old times.” A man say, and you recognize two out of six, both were your guards in Belle Reve.
“Don't leave too many bruises. She'll be with Batman in ten minutes, he'll notice.”
Ten minutes... You're going back. This truck in taking you back. Lowering your head, you smile, breathing deeply.
“She was with the Task Force. He'll think she got them there.”
“Fine then.” You're pulled back, a dark, heavy fabric covering your head. “This is just to remind you of who you are, Havoc.”
“And to give you a nice memory of home.”
The beating starts, and your body easily collapses to the floor again. But you're lifted up, again and again. You should fight. You should do something, but you can't. You're not the superpowerful girl you thought you were. You break too, and you get hurt. And you are hurt, with countless cuts and wounds through your body. When you were high on whatever they gave you, you could keep moving. Now you can't. Being vulnerable, weak, feels awful, but there's just no strength in you. You just need to make it through the last ten minutes that separate you from home.
Home.
When exactly did the house became that?
Or is it Bruce? Is he the one becoming your home? Is it even possible? You hope it is.
×
@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker
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rebelcap · 4 years
Text
We are not just friends — part 9
Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a person of color, she's brown.)
Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.  
Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy, lots of fucking (eventually) 
This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally. 
Series masterlist
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“ It's not fancy, isn't it?” Sofia asked going through her suitcase in the middle of the bed, hoping to find something to wear.
“ Nah, it's casual. Like a get-together—” Chris answered her thought the phone, they were Facetiming as they both get ready.
“Alright, what about… this and this?” She said holding up a red mini skirt with a red crop top. “I feel like matching.”
“Love it, red suits you. “ Chris answered and Sofía wiggle on the bed and began undressing, not caring for modesty as Chris looked at her.
“Enjoying the show? creep. “ She laughed as Chris rubbed her beard watching her get undressed, she wasn't being sexy or anything close, Chris just find her fucking hot all the time.
“Sure, don't mind me.” Chris answered her smiling. “want me to pick you up?”
“No honey, it's okay. I'll Uber the rest so you can't have to drive back and forth.’
‘I really don't mind, Sof.’
‘I know, but you know how I am with getting ready. I don't want you running late and shit. It's fine, you go ahead and I'll text you when I'm there.”
‘You sure?”
‘Yes, dumbass. You go ahead I'll text you. “ She said kissing the screen making Chris laugh.
“Alright, I'll be going then. call me. “
They hung up and Chris go ahead and grabbed his things and went ahead to his friend's birthday.
And Sofia took her time and arrived forty-five minutes later cause she can.
Chris was already waiting for her outside, having a sly smoke and playing with his phone on the side of the building, high-end building on LA.
Sofia called him out and shake her head when she saw the cigarette on his hand and Chris put it out.
“Sorry, I know you hate it. “
“It's bad for you. “
“I know—You're pretty,” Chris observed her, she was wearing what she shows him earlier, looked much better on her, red was definitely her color.
“Do I? I feel a little silly. I nervous—I don't know.” She nervously laughed shrugging as Chris pulled her in for a quick kiss. “I don't know anyone.”
“Neither do I, really. I know some of them.” Chris told her and she hummed. “I'm a little anxious.”
Sofia smiled and kissed him again, he wrapped his arms around her waist and fight the urge to grab her ass.
“We should go in.” He said letting her go and she agreed, rearranging her skirt and walked in with Chris.
The party wasn't what she was expecting, you know like a get together a few beers and friends hanging out but no, it was a full-blown party with a lot of people.
She didn't say anything as Chris greet people and introduced them to her, it was a little taxing but she did it anyway because it's Chris.
“Dude, so many people.”
“Yes, I thought it wasn't like this.” He looked at her with an apologetic look.
“It's fine, you do your thing and I'll mingle with that bar over there.” She told him with a smile and almost pushed him towards his friends.
“You sure?”
“Yes, go.” Sofía pushed him again and Chris leans over and plants a quick kiss on the top of her head.
“You're the best, it will be just for a little bit. I'll be back.” He kissed her again and disappear on the crowd and she looked forward to the bar, maybe getting a little bit tipsy will loosen her up but the crowd here was way different to what she and Mandy hung out back at home.
She felt pretentious wearing matching top and skirt, she couldn't imagine what she would feel wearing a thousand-dollar dress like the bunch of girls over there.
She grabbed a beer and isolated herself to a corner, where she could observe the party—witch was absolutely cool with her, what she wasn't expecting was seeing Chris's ex-girlfriend chatting with some girls and pointing out exactly where he was.
“Oh boy.” She mumbles drinking her beer and looked at her walk through until she reached him and he acted amicable with her, hugs and cheeks being kissed.
At that moment she decided to get fucked up and dance if he was going to be with his ex might as well she find something to do at this stupid party. Sofia quickly drank her beer and head back to the bar to do a few shots, clearly catching the attention of a few guys hovering over there.
“Hey,” One of them says, he had a kind smile and was attractive enough.
“Hi.” She said back, smiling too.
They chatted for a bit, his name was Tom, he's a publicist and single.
“You came here with someone?” Tom asked as she sips her drink, the second one.
“Mm-hm, with my friend.” She vaguely said, not wanting to hint that it was Chris.
“Oh, do I know her?” He asked, trying to find out who and assumed it was a girl.
“It's a he and probably you do.” Sofía quickly answers and without thinking looked back at where he was before and his back was facing her while he talked to his ex's ear. Sofia couldn't help but sigh deeply and drank the rest of the drink. “Can I have another one?” She flagged the bartender and he quickly began making her another.
“You work on the industry?” He asked taking a sip of his own drink and Sofia realized that he really didn't like this dude anymore, she didn't want to talk about work of the industry.
“Not really—”
“You should, you've got this young Salma Hayek thing going on.” He said moving his hands and Sofia raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, we're both Latinas.”
“Really? where you from?”
“Yeap, Argentina,” Sofía answered back and quickly looked back at Chris and he kept talking with his ex, now drinks in hand and he had that pink on his cheeks and moving his hands.
man, am I jealous? She thought for a second but quickly shake her head and looked at Tom, trying to find out if she could possibly, at least, make out.
But he was a little off-putting and Sofia started thinking that he was recruiting or some shit—witch she wasn't interested at all. Leave that to the talented people, she wasn't that.
“—You know, I could introduce you to our manager. We're looking for someone with your profile, there's a lot of new—”
“I'm going to stop you there because I've got no interest in having a manager or working on the industry.” She said that with a mocking tone. “I'm good at my normal job.”
Tom actually scoffed at her then shake his head, “Then what are you doing at a party like this? are you an escort?”
Sofia was the one to scoff now and give Chris another look, and his ex had her arm around his waist they were going to make out anytime soon. Now she really wanted to get the fuck out of here.
“I came with a friend, whatever. Bye,” She waves him off and turned her back at him, not bothering to see if he walked away or not.
She pulled her phone and furiously text Mandy.
Christofer, it's all cozy with his fucking ex and people here are treating me like I am a fucking escort.
“I'm a fucking idiot.” She mutters to herself after she press sends, totally regretting that because she knows how she exaggerates things.
Baby, leave that party. Go to the hotel and we'll talk.
Sofia stare at the screen and decided that Mandy's idea wasn't bad, at all. She wasn't going to wait around as Chris fuck the girl—and she did felt bad like it wasn't enough for him. She looked one more time and indeed, they were absolutely making out.
“Yeah, fuck this.”
~~
“I can't do this anymore,” Chris push her away and shake his head."I came here with someone, I can't be doing this. She's important to me,"
She scoffed, "Yet, you are here making out with me. Why then? " She asked and tried to resume the kissing.
"No, I can't—I shouldn't be here," He turned around and drank the rest of his beer praying that Sofia didn't see that.
Of course, she wasn't picking up, Chris began to panic actual panic as he quickly typed.
Where are you? can't find you.
Sof, are you okay?
Please call me.
Sofía was walking as she looked at the screen and scoffed, the hotel wasn't that far and she feels like walking trying to clear off her mind. For a moment there she had those awful flashbacks with Tiffany, she used to do the same shit, worst of all she allowed it. She knew that this was nothing, that they weren't absolutely nothing besides friends but if this is how he was gonna behave as friends.
"I'm walking to the hotel," She spoke softly at the phone, it was Mandy.
"What happened?" She asked and Sofia told her the whole thing. "Well fuck, he's calling me,"
"Yeah I should probably let him know that I'm heading to the hotel before he called the police," Sofia said softly and sighed. "Tiffany used to pull this shit—
"He's not Tifanny, "
"Yeah, I'll talk to you back at the hotel. I'm going to text him and buy booze." Sofia said and tell their goodbyes and hung up.
Chris was calling again and Sofia picked up.
"I'm fine, I'm going to the hotel."
"Jesus Christ, Sofia. I was freaking out,"
"Yeah, sure," She laughs bitterly. "Whatever, I'm going to sleep. I'll text your assistant the details for the contract and photoshoot. You still wanna do that?, or I call the whole thing off? no pressure."
"You saw, don't you?"
"Whole fucking party saw that kiss, dude." She said softly, "It's okay, but I don't wanna be in the middle of nothing. I thought you had figured it out and moved on,"
"I did fuck. I'm sorry Sof—"
"Did you? you were just fucking kissing her."
"It took me by surprised, I told her I was with you that—come on, can we talk about it?"
"We are,"
"In-person, Sof."
"I'm tired Chris, I'm kinda drunk and I'm about to enter the hotel lobby." She said softly. "Are you in for tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," Chris answered defeated. "I'm sorry Sofia."
"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." She hung up.
~~
He fucked up.
Thanks everyone! ❤️
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guessmonsta · 7 years
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I'VE BEEN WAITING TO ASK THIS FOR SO LONG But Scenario where Tendou is kinda teasing his s/o about her anxiety disorder and she usually just laughs it off but he accidentally hits really close to home and she just snaps and ends up calling him " a monster"? You can take this wherever you want but can it have a fluffy ending? I dunno I love your blog I've heard from many mutuals that you're the woman to go to for quality Tendou's gah thank you
I’ve actually never written a fight on this blog??? This should be interesting? Also, mdr, “the woman to go to for quality Tendou,” as if Tendou is a drug and I’m a dealer. Well… I mean… metaphorically… I suppose… witty…
Also Tendou has a roommate?? Can he be classified as an OC? He doesn’t have a name? 
Also it takes place in the same universe as this thing everyone loves just to let you know ack I”M RAMBLING SORRY
__ was always patient. Perhaps, Tendou pondered, that was what made them so compatible. She had always been so unwaveringly tolerant of the way he ran his mouth, whether he was over-enthused or over-thinking, Tendou couldn’t think of one time where she hadn’t been calm. Although Tendou knew tempests arise out of the calmest tropical waters, and he swam out too far and got caught in one.
“__, how’s it feel?”
__ barely spared him a glance as her eyes darted between him and the textbook she was studying. Friday nights had become a ritual between them; him wanting to do anything that didn’t involve himself being alone, and her much rather utilizing her time with her nose in a book. She’d come over, study, or at least, try to with him occupying the space next to her on the bed. There had been an odd feeling in Tendou’s gut all day now, and watching her comb through pages made him even more uneasy.
“How does what feel?” She said, albeit absent. Tendou figured he could’ve said anything then and she wouldn’t really pick up on it.
“To be so anxious all the time?”
She had definitely heard him, though. She was used to questions like this, she had to have been, by now, at least. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at him, the softness of her face turning downwards.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She pondered, rolling her eyes and directing her attention back on her book. Tendou didn’t fail to notice the way her grip tightened around the edges of the cover, though. Her knuckles were practically white.
“It means exactly what you think it means. Does it suck to be afraid of everything?” He waited for her standoffish, sarcastic remark to come, they usually came flying in seconds after he had insulted her, but there was nothing, silence. The only noise was the sudden dull ‘thump’ of heavy pages closing in on each other.
“I… I’m not really afraid of everything. It’s… it’s complex in the way that-”
“Oh? Are you stuttering?” Tendou laughed, which he shouldn’t have, because the already crooked expression on her face tensed up even more. “Am I making you anxious?”
“Why are you acting like this?” The tone of her voice was broken just above a whisper. She was looking straight at him a minute ago but now she didn’t even dare look up in his general direction. Her fingers slipped off the side of the bed and started feeling around for the straps of her bag. Her eyes never left their place on the floor.
“Acting like what?” Tendou scooted closer to her, only for her to stand up, immediately, and almost topple over. “Oh, __, don’t tell me your social anxiety is getting so bad that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend, hm?”
The room was silent for a moment, her back turned to his and the only noise to be heard was the soft tick-ticks of his roommates clock. The noise to break the monotony was a sniffle, just loud enough to be heard, and Tendou wasn’t sure it was coming from her or him.
“__..?” Tendou muttered, pondering whether or not he should stand up and reach to her. “Listen, are you really that upset, ‘cause-”
That’s when she turned around to face him, her cheeks ruby red and not in the way he liked. There were tears rolling down her cheeks, not enough to be considered a cry, but enough to express the way her broken eyes glistened in the dim light of his desk lamp. There were very few instances he had ever seen __ cry, once over a hurt pigeon they saw hobbling around campus, and another over the likelihood of him. Although, the other time didn’t break her heart like this did.
“Y’know…” Her voice wasn’t broken like he’d expect it to be. It ran flat, stoic, like a recording of something that wasn’t human. “I think it’s really funny that I’ve put up with every single piece of your shit, but you can’t even accept a little bit of mine.”
“__…”
“Don’t” She stated, loud, clear. It echoed off the walls and Tendou was sure it was loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “I think it’s really funny how I’ve actually cried with you over your own mental problems but you can’t even accept the fact that I overthink. Don’t you? That I sometimes actually stress myself out over problems that aren’t even mine but I get made fun of because I can get exceptionally nervous?” Her voice wasn’t flat anymore, it was cracking. It was louder and tainted with the slightest hint of anger, but she wasn’t angry. Not yet.
“That’s petty, __. Don’t use the “I think it’s really funny how” line on me.” Tendou stood up from the bed, and she moved back. Her bag was still dangling from her hand.
“I have every right to be petty. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Well excu-use me for not realizing you wouldn’t take a joke!”
“My mental health isn’t a joke, Satori!”
“Well you treat it like one!”
The room fell silent once again, __’s bloodshot eyes widening. Another tear slipped down her cheeks. She was silent, the lips she had been gnawing on, agape.
“You…” She muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder without breaking eye contact with him.
“__, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Really? What did you mean then?” She cocked her head, taking a few steps away from him again. Tendou didn’t reply, he couldn’t. “You’re so selfish! I actually cannot believe this! Do you ever hear me making depression jokes? Have I ever once put you down for anything wrong with you?”
“No, but it’s not like it would be the end of the world if you did!”
“Really? Really? I was fine before Satori. I really would’ve been fine with a little “sorry” and I would’ve cut it. But I’m a joke? Am I just a joke to you?”
“You’re damn acting like one! What’s wrong with you today?”
“What’s wrong with me today?” She was all but screaming now, hands balled into fists and shoved in her pockets. “God, you know what, you really are a monster. Goodnight, Satori.”
She turned around on her heel and stormed towards the door. He wasn’t sure what the plunging feeling in his chest was, but he was honest it was the closest thing to heartbreak. When he saw her tugging at the doorknob with shaking hands, that’s when he knew he had seriously, horrendously, ultimately, fucked up. There was something else in him though, something other than sadness, that made him storm up to her and yank her away from the door.
“I’m a monster, huh?” He spat, his hand tight around her knuckles as he loomed over her, pushing her back into the living area.
“Yes.” She scrunched up her nose and licked her lips, watching him tentatively to make the next move. “You’re a monster.”
“I really don’t get why you have to be so over-fucking-dramatic about this! Why couldn’t you’ve just told me to shut the fuck up! I would’ve!”
“Really? Would you? You don’t work like that, Satori, I know you.” She hissed through her teeth and yanked her hand away from his, her nail accidentally cutting the side of his thumb. She didn’t notice, and neither did he.
“You don’t know shit about me.”
“I don’t? I really don’t? Satori, you’ve told your entire sob story a million times! “Oh I got bullied,” “oh everyone hates me.” I can see why!”
Tendou was at a loss for words at this point, the plunging, surging in his veins making him feel cold. He should’ve known it was a bad idea to pick at her, someone who really did know him better than he did himself. She could disassemble him and put him back together if she wanted, and most importantly, break him down. He didn’t even feel like shouting anymore, if he was being honest. He pushed himself to, anyways.
“You’re being a real bitch, __. Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“I’m well fucking aware of what I’m saying!”
“Then why are you saying it?”
__ paused for a moment, gnawing at her lips again. Tears were still running down her face yet she didn’t let her aggressive facade down.
“God, its because I love you!” She shouted, turning around and heading for the door. “I love you and it really fucking hurts when it seems like you don’t love me, okay?”
“It doesn’t seem like you love me.”
“Well I do. I care about your opinion more than your shitty little brain could ever articulate. That’s why I’m overreacting. That’s why I can’t just tell you to shut up.” She paused for a moment, looking at him from the doorstep, wanting to say more, Tendou knew because her lips were pursed together so tight he was afraid she’d split one.
“Goodnight, Satori.” She spared him one last glance before slamming the door behind her, and her hurried footsteps clambered down the hall.
Tendou felt empty in the void of his dorm. He sat down on the edge of his bed and rested his face in his hands, and much to his surprise, when he sat back up, his fingertips were wet. He had definitely messed up.
 It had been three days since the argument. Tendou really didn’t realize how much he depended on another person until he found himself locked up in his dorm the entire weekend, along with the entire following Monday. He had missed all his classes for the day, but ultimately, he didn’t care. It had been a while since he had felt this disgusting, the last time he could recall was losing his last match of senior year. He couldn’t even classify this feeling as sadness, there were too many other feelings mixed in for him to just be sad. He felt guilty, disgusted, livid, his mood was a cesspool of negativity. His roommate had teasingly pointed out that he looked like shit, to which Tendou had wholeheartedly accepted. The lack of sarcasm made his roommate threaten to call the RA, which he didn’t, just tugged the bed sheet off of him and forced him out of the room to go take a shower.
“Call your girlfriend before you die in here.” His roommate had joked, “Or maybe I’ll just let you die, I’d get a 4.0 sympathy GPA from the board.”
It wasn’t until Tuesday night when Tendou mustered up the courage to send her a text. Usually she responded in seconds, but this response was delayed by hours. She ignored his message of “can we talk?” and jumped to, “I’m coming over.” Tendou didn’t mind, he worked well with confrontation. Though, he was definitely worried another argument would strike, that would be the last thing he’d want. His roommate was spending the night at his boyfriend’s dorm, but if he were to still drop by somehow, he’d hate for him to be caught up in an argument.
At six-thirty on the dot, there came a knock on his door. He figured he must look like a wreck, his last shower was Sunday morning, and he hadn’t slept much since then, either. He dragged himself over to answer her, though. Before he had the chance to open the door, she knocked again, which, for some reason, made his stomach lurch. There was the possibility that he was a bit nervous.
He swallowed thickly, swallowing his pride along with it, and cracked the door open, fumbling with the locks on the sides before he swung it open all the way. __ said nothing, just looked up at him, her eyes just as tired as his. Neither said anything but both could tell it wasn’t a very smart idea for both of them to be away from each other for so long.
“I’m sorry.” Is what broke their silence, and Tendou’s heart was racing too fast to tell whether it came from her or him.
“No, I’m sorry.” __ peeped next, so it was safe for Tendou to assume he had spoken without thinking. “I said some shit I shouldn’t have and I’m really, really, sorry.”
“You wouldn’t ‘ve had to say that if I didn’t start it.” Tendou tentatively placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her. As soon as the lock clicked, __’s weight collapsed underneath him, dragging him down to the floor and up against the wall with her.
“I forgive you…” She muttered into the crook of his neck, her arms tight around his waist. “And I never meant anything I said that night. You’re not a monster, I promise you, you’re not. It was so shallow of me to even mention all of that and I wasn’t even thinking about how you’d feel and… I’m so sorry…” She fumbled over her words, lifting her head up to reveal tears in her eyes.
“You’re forgiven.” He smiled, uncoiling one arm from around her neck to thumb away a fallen tear. “I’ve never seen you cry this much, y’know.”
“The shit I said wasn’t true, but everything else was.”
“That whole caring about me thing?”
She nodded, her eyes breaking away from his to look down at her lap. “It’s pathetic, huh?”
“I don’t think it’s pathetic.” Tendou tilted her chin up with his fingertips, and pressed a soft, forgiving kiss on her lips. “I could say the same about you.”
“We’re fucked, aren’t we? Is this what it feels like to be in love?”
“Mhm…” Tendou hummed, a smile on his face as he kissed __ again.
“Disgusting.” She muttered. “I love it.”
Tendou found himself laughing, pulling __ closer to his chest and holding her against him. The time rolled by, the ticks on his roommates clock filling a comfortable silence instead of an empty one. Maybe him and __ weren’t compatible because of her patience and his unwillingness to ever shut up. They were undeniably compatible, though, and he couldn’t waste his time thinking of why. All he knew was that she was right for him, right in his arms, and everything was alright.
My mom always told me when I was little, that if anyone ever did me wrong, I was to always say “You are forgiven” instead of “It’s alright” or “It’s okay.” Because if you tell them that what they did wrong was okay, they’ll believe it, and keeping thinking that hurting you is okay, and they’ll do it again. Always say “you’re forgiven”, because that shows that you won’t tolerate their mistake again. 
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