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pitiful-anonymous-vampire · 1 year

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vent post cuz I need to vent 😅

trying to do even the most basic tasks as a mute person is excessively time consuming at best, and downright impossible at worst. When I had to change my school computer password, it took over ten emails between myself and IT to get the password changed. The school policy was you had to phone the IT desk to confirm your identity. But, of course, I couldn’t do that. Eventually they allowed me to change my password. This process though took me three days compared to the five second phone calls the other students made

I am currently looking for a new massage therapist and physiotherapist, as mine have moved away. I found one place close to home that seemed promising. Their “contact us” page had an email address listed, so I emailed them. They said they would not book me in if I didn’t phone.

I decided to give up on them and try somewhere else. There was a very promising place in the same building as my therapist.

Once again, I went to their “contact us” page and they had an email address there. I emailed them and said I had some questions about their practice (due to being super immunocompromised and disabled, I have to repeat this process everywhere I go. It’s frustrating). I received an email back saying they’d answer my questions if I called them.

Later today, they actually called me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything about that… I just watched my phone as it rang and wished I could just answer it. I ended up emailing them a second time, explaining why I could not answer their phone call.

My therapist has been ill the past month, so I’ve not gotten to go to any appointments. I decided to do an online appointment using a site that allows you to text, video call, or phone call. I’ve used this service for years and have always texted. I have a note on file that explains I can only text and why I can only text.

Unfortunately the only therapists available were ones I haven’t had before. They both spent up to a third of my appointment time telling me that it would be so much better for me to phone them or do a video chat with them than to text. I basically wasted my money because I spent most of my time explaining why I couldn’t do phone or video calls. The one therapist, even after I explained, continued to tell me to video call her throughout the appointment.

I am constantly prevented from accessing the care that I need, simply because I cannot communicate in the way people prefer. It’s frustrating. Why put several contact options when you’re just going to refuse all but one? Where does that leave people who cannot communicate in the way that you’d like?

And this isn’t just a mute/ non verbal, semi verbal issue. There are many people who cannot get the care they need because of an inability to communicate in a single acceptable way. I’ve spoken to many people about this issue, and it’s shocking just how many people are struggling unnecessarily simply because they can’t communicate in a single acceptable way. Disabled people, neurodivergent people, people with speech impediments, deaf and hard of hearing folks, etc all end up left behind.

It has become so frustrating that I just had to vent somewhere. I’m so tired of always having to work extra hard just for the most basic things. And this doesn’t just apply to my speech issues. My illnesses and disabilities also require excessive planning and effort to ensure basic accommodations. I feel like I am living life on hard mode at all times. Everything is so much more time (and energy) consuming than it has to be. I’m exhausted trying to simply have access to the things most people do. It’s taken me four days so far just to get a hair appointment! I have been trying to get a physio appointment for three weeks! We need change as a society so people can have access to the things they need and want. I am absolutely fed up having to deal with this kind of thing every single day of my life

Sorry… that was a longer rant than anticipated 😅 I just really needed to unload my frustration somehow

#mutism #mute #disabled #disability #accommodations #disability accommodations #neurodivergent #neurodivergencies #non verbal #chronically ill #rant #society needs to accommodate people #i’m so tired #disability advocacy #temporomandibular joint disorder #temporomandibular joint disease #autism #anxiety #social anxiety

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crippleprophet · 2 years

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hi! hope you're day is going alright whenever you read this :)

I was wondering how/if you deal with any anxiety surrounding doctors being very dismissive/accusing you of lying? been disabled my whole life and so ive got a lot of Medical Trauma surrounding that...but now that I'm having to talk to a bunch of specialists again for new stuff cropping up, I'm kinda terrified of being dismissed all over again.

that’s a great question, i hope my response is helpful! the main thing that helps my anxiety about appointments etc is having a plan; it makes me feel in control which helps me stay grounded and cope/recover better if things go poorly.

in my opinion there are four main tiers of appointment:

you receive the treatment you want

you receive a treatment, but not your preferred one

no treatment due to delay - referred to a different doctor, sent for more tests, etc

no treatment due to dismissal / gaslighting

where an experience falls within those generally determines how i respond to it. i’ve found it helpful to go into an appointment knowing what i want out of it and what i’ll do if i do or don’t receive that.

obviously other factors may come into play - for example, i receive the referral i wanted but the doctor said something ableist or transphobic to me - but usually i’m personally affected more by denial of care / medical neglect than by someone making a rude comment, etc. your feelings may be different and therefore your means of categorizing appointments may be different!

after any appointment i go through a few steps:

debrief: i have a friend “on call” for when i get out of the appointment to talk about how it went and my feelings about it. if it’s a tier 1 or 2, i usually just text an update and minor complaints if applicable; tier 4 i need at least a video call; tier 3 may fall either way depending on what i wanted or expected at that stage. if i’ve had a medical procedure or been to the emergency room, it’s been enormously helpful to have someone stay with me in person for a bit when possible.

decompress: hanging out with a friend on video call, watching a comfort movie, listening to a favorite album, etc

reward: i buy myself something small like a new lipstick or a favorite snack

after a tier 4 appointment, i need some other steps, as well:

validation: someone familiar with what i’ve been going through to tell me that my symptoms are real and serious, i deserve care and respect from medical professionals, etc.

a new plan: this could be a different doctor i’m going to visit, a treatment plan that doesn’t require medical professionals, or, if all other options seem exhausted, how i’m going to cope during the immediate fallout - scheduled times to check in with people, days i can afford to not do my homework, etc. again, this helps me feel in control when so much is out of my control

easy meals and snacks: when i’m coping with trauma/ptsd, minimizing tasks that take up my energy is huge, especially because i often have a decreased appetite. my go-to’s include rice cakes, peanut butter, gluten free cereal, popcorn, and frozen fries

during the height of a period of medical neglect this past year, i made a series of affirming messages and reminders of how serious my symptoms were (link to post here). that, combined with detailed symptom tracking spreadsheets, has been really helpful for me both during that period of active gaslighting and after treatment questioning whether it was ever “really that bad.”

ultimately, you know your body best, and your current concerns are serious and deserving of care. i hope your doctors provide you with the treatment you want and need, but even if they don’t, you’re still the authority on your body and you deserve to receive effective treatment.

if you’re 18+ and need someone to talk to, hang out with, or vent to after appointments feel free to dm me for an invite to my discord! wishing you all the best 💕💕

#medical neglect #medical trauma #medical gaslighting #asks #faq #mac.txt

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buddiebeginz · 2 years

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I’ve put off writing this because I haven't really been able to articulate how I've been feeling in regards to ST as of late but there’s a lot of things that have been bothering me so I’m gonna try. A lot of this is going to be about Eddie and Billy and it’s mostly just me venting so if that’s not something you want to want to read feel free to skip. I just want to preface this with saying I’m not trying to piss anyone off with this post and despite what it might seem like I don’t hate Eddie and I'm not trying to hate on anyone who loves him or who you ship him with. I know I could just keep my thoughts to myself but venting helps and also I figured maybe I’m not the only one who feels like this right now.

So since season 4 aired anywhere there is any mention of the show all I see is some variation of: EDDIE!!!💗💗💗 greatest character ever!!!! Are you even a real ST fan if you don’t love Eddie?!! And while I’m sure that’s been great for everyone who loves him it’s been kind of exhausting for me. Because everytime I see him I’m reminded that Billy is not here and even more than that it’s seeing people love Eddie so instantly and effortlessly. Seeing everyone be so protective of him (lots of people saying if he dies they’ll stop watching) it just makes me feel angry and sad that Billy was never given any kind of chance not by the show, or it’s creators, and definitely not by the ST fandom as a whole.

In all honesty there's things I like about Eddie. A lot of scenes he was in he made me laugh and he’s the type of character I could love so it’s not like I don’t get his popularity. But the fact that the Duffers totally threw Billy away and replaced him with a character that has a lot of similarities and the fact that the ST fandom will laugh and say Billy deserved to die 10 times over because he was bad and Eddie is perfect because he’s good (despite knowing very little about him) just makes it really hard for me deal with Eddie right now especially considering he’s everywhere and Billy isn’t. And like what’s the message I’m supposed to take away from the differences in the way the Duffers and fandom have treated Billy vs Eddie. Your life is only worthy if you’re nice?

I just can’t understand why Billy is treated so differently from the majority of the ST characters. Why is there is so little empathy for him? I’ve seen so many people in the ST fandom defend other characters. In the past people have defended Steve, Jonathan, Kali, Hopper, Tommy, etc. More recently people have been defending El hitting Angela with the skate. Millie even talked in a video about that scene where she said that because of what El’s been through she doesn’t know any better. Where you’d expect “the normal regular person” to know better but El doesn’t.

I’ve also seen people showing compassion for Henry Creel. A piece of art I saw recently compared El and him and was basically saying they were the same. In general 001 has become pretty popular I’ve seen a lot of people making art of him and using his image as icons etc.

Then you had the Duffers in this video defending Jason and saying that if Chrissy wouldn’t have died he wouldn’t have been a bully.

It even seems like the show is trying to rebrand Brenner making it seem like he cared about the kids, showing him and El having these heart to heart talks, and that Papa/Daughter scene. I’ve even seen people on social media saying that Brenner and El’s relationship is more like Mathew and Millie’s now.

My point is that people will take the time to humanize and try to understand most of the other characters so why is that never an option for Billy? What is it about Billy that makes him so hated from so many in the ST fandom to the point of people still happy that he died. To people angry they even showed Max grieving for him. I just don’t get it.

Going back to Eddie though. A lot of people have started to ship him with Steve and while like I said I’m not judging who people ship (a lot of my ships have been unpopular so hating on who people ship isn’t my thing) it’s just frustrating and disheartening to watch how fandom is reacting to this pairing mainly when compared to Harringrove. Seeing all the art, and gifs, and even whole blogs dedicated to them when Harringrove and our fandom has been so hated by the main ST fandom is hard to watch.

I know some people who are Harringrove shippers are shipping S/E but a lot of other ST fans are shipping them too including people who have harassed us for shipping Harringrove. It also feels like some of them are using S/E as a way to further hate on Billy and Harringrove. Seeing this ship welcomed into fandom and become popular is just frustrating because it should have been the same way for us too. Like no one has to like any of the same ships but I’ve been harassed and blocked by many blogs just for liking Billy or shipping Harringrove and I’m sure S/E shippers won’t deal with the same kind of harassment (nor would I want them to).

I just wish I could understand why it’s okay for people to see potential between Steve and Eddie when these are two characters who don’t really know each other, don’t even go to school together, and we don’t know much about Eddie at all but why it’s not okay for me to believe that Billy could have grown and become a better person and have any kind of relationship with Steve. Why relating to Billy and shipping him with Steve somehow makes me such a horrible person and so hated by the main ST fandom that many of them put stuff in their bios that say Harringrove shippers or Billy apologists don’t interact.

I know some people will see this post and think I’m just being bitter or jealous towards Eddie or S/E as a ship and you know maybe I am bitter and jealous that Eddie has been in the show for a handful of episodes and he’s already become as popular and beloved as Steve. Maybe I’m bitter that it feels like Billy is being forgotten about in lot of ways. Maybe I’m bitter and jealous that it’s become welcomed in all corners of ST fandom to ship Steve and Eddie but is still this huge taboo to ship Steve and Billy.

I’m definitely still bitter that no one tried to save Billy not even once in season 3. I’m bitter that the Duffers named an entire episode after Billy only to bring his image back as some kind of Vecna mirage to be cruel to Max. I’m bitter that we’re seeing how Eddie has been integrated into the party and knows all about the Upside Down and no one told Billy a damn thing when he was being literally tortured by the Mind Flayer. I’m bitter that we got to see scenes like a friendship forming between Chrissy and Eddie and Eddie being happy when Billy wasn’t allowed to have any of that. The Duffers made the choice to have a character (a teenager mind you) who was abused, abandoned, tortured, and had no support system and then just threw him away like garbage. So yeah I’m bitter about that.

Like I keep saying I don’t hate Eddie if Billy didn’t exist I’m sure I’d feel differently about Eddie but the way Billy was just killed off like his life meant nothing and the way fandom has responded so drastically different to Eddie and Billy makes it hard for me to deal with Eddie right now. Billy is one of my favorite characters ever and more than that I relate a lot to him. I just wanted to see him get a chance to be happy and know someone cared about him. And even if Billy wasn’t going to come back the utter hatred a significant portion of the ST fandom still has for him feels really personal to me. Like I know realistically it has nothing to do with me but since I relate a lot to him seeing so many people talk about how his abuse doesn’t matter, talk about how he deserved to die, and talk about how much better a character than Billy Eddie is it just hurts.

I’m sure in time I’ll post Eddie stuff on my blog because in reality my issues aren’t with Eddie as a character they’re with other things related to him. For now it’s just hard to see him and hard to see all the love he’s getting and all the hate people are still spewing at Billy. I know this post was rambly and I can’t tell you what the big point of it all was I just really needed to talk about how I’ve been feeling seeing this explosion of Eddie love everywhere. If you took the time to read all of this thanks.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #sth!#bfan

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bunbunpawz · 10 months

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Hating Me Again

There is a person here, that started to hate me. Here is my vent. It all goes back a year ago, I noticed this person acting strangly and well I found out they had plans to harm themselves. They had a planned date and everything, I’ve seen what they have done so far so I knew it was serious. I wanted to help, I kept tab on their social media, they found my social media by stalking me online but I didn’t take it as creepy even though that might have been my first mistake. Because they stalked me, I could easily find them aswell. so I kept checking up on them, found out the date they had in mind and did my best as a human to help and comfort this struggling human. I introduced them to my friends and hobbies and spend time with them, I thought we has an okay if not good relationship. They still had struggles, and I reached out to authorities when I thought I could not manage it by myself, but I had never given up on this person. Probably another mistake on my part. But wouldn’t any human reach out when they know its this bad? No one reached out to me, I didn’t want to be like them. I wanted to make some sort of difference, any kind of help. When you see a person drown, you don’t look around and say “someone else will help” you jump in to help because every second counts. My worst mistake was assuming this person is like me, that they want help, that they want to change, that they want to be happy despite all the signs that would prove otherwise. Being a victim is all this person cares about, they want to be in their bubble of sadness. One day they dissapeared for a long time, stalking their social media did not help and messages uppon messages didn’t reach as they never replied. So I got worried, I had assumed the worst. “Has it actually happened?” I thought to myself. Out of desperation I went and ask a few authority figures to check up on them. I didn’t tell them all the details but they might already be aware of it themselves. In anyway, the next they this person had reappeared. I was relieved, but also angry over being ignored! and generally mentally exhausted. I decided to take my time to think what just happened over, reconsider my position and decide best course of action to keep myself safe as well. During this time this person has decided that I am a bad guy. I just needed my time, time to think. However, this person decded to wait for me where I cannot escape without confronting him. He had trapped me and questioned me, but I had no answers, and I was clearly not willing to talk. So I awkwardly moved away, but they chased me.They wanted answers NOW. frustrated I had no other options but to yell at them that “I DO NOT WANT TO TALK!”, not my best moment, I felt really bad for this, I felt awful over it and guilty. They made me feel this guilty and I did not realize it until I talked it over with a friend that told me that I am allowed to not want to talk to someone, and when I clearly seem like I do not want to talk it is within my right to be left alone. However, since that moment onward, that person had built a grudge against me. Bullying me online saying I am a monster, evil, a liar. I brushed it off at first but before I knew it the tears flooded my face in public. How embarassing. Bad memories of the past were triggered and before I could even realize it my body had reacted to the situation. The same day they have decided to chase me, which scared me a lot so I ran into the female bathrooms and hid in there. What did he want? why did he chase me? I do not know but it’s scary. I don’t want things to repeat from the past. They keep talking to the people around me, and he is saying very creepy things online about me that are far from the truth, and I do not understand why he is doing this. I did my best for this person and he repays me with hate, and bullying. I understand that he wants to be a victim but bullying someone makes you the bully not the victim. PLEASE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I’m sorry I ever tried to be friends with you. I’m sorry I ever got involved with you. I’m not sorry If I saved your life. Now please forget about ever knowing me and leave me alone.

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destinygoldenstar · 2 years

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Once again, Dhar Mann encourages that Grades = Life

To put it simply,

Student’s trying to hack his grades to succeed. He does NOT understand how school wifi works, apparently. That’s on him I guess...

His friend says this:

“I’m gonna earn my grades the right way”

THERE’S A RIGHT WAY?! GRADES DEFINE YOUR SUCCESS?! WHAT’S SO SPECIAL ABOUT GRADES, THEY DON’T MEAN ANYTHING!

I mean, they do, but that’s because society gives letters a meaning. It’s wrong. I already talked about this.

“Grades are the single most important thing in the entire world! If you don’t get an A, you’re a bad person! If you don’t care about grades, you’re a bad person! There is NO OTHER WAY you can live your life other than to take tests and get As. Unless you get As, you will NEVER have a good life, and will NEVER be a real person in the real world.”

“Sadly, this is the school system we live in. AND IT’S SICK. This may be real, but it shouldn’t be ENCORUAGED to keep happening! Say what you will about hard work and preparation, we live in a world where there are MULTIPLE options for people to get jobs, participate in events, and have good lives, outside of school. We should encourage kids to actually explore the world and figure out who they are and find their own success, because if we keep them locked away from the world in a building and stress them out with tests involving memorizing random junk, THAT’S what makes them less likely to succeed at life.”

But hey, we’re supposed to COMMIT to grades anyway and DEMONIZE this STUDENT, who doesn’t know better. Look at him chuckling like an evil man! Isn’t he just WRONG? Unsympathetic?!

Also some MORE lines where grades DEFINE THE HUMAN BEING:

“I don’t mean to brag, but I have a 3.827 GPA”

As if that DEFIES one’s intelligence

“You should always use your talents for good instead of evil”

Helping people get by in school is EVIL

DOWNRIGHT SAID NOW! NO I WASN’T EXAGGERATNG!

The principal looks at the grades, and says:

“I’ve never given you the recognition you deserve”

Again, GRADES = LIFE apparently

So our villain gets in a brain game, and he actually WINS it for his team.

SEE? People CAN succeed without grades holding them back!

And of course this is deemed as EVIL of him.

Like, HOW DARE someone find another way to get by the system?

So big surprise, he gets caught.

The punishment this time?

Expulsion.

Okay, fair. He did use school property offensively.

Oh, but that’s not all!!

The principal ALSO THREATENS TO CALL THE POLICE

THEN

He loses his money. Goes broke.

THEN

Suspension

THEN

He’s forced to... upgrade all the computers so that no one else could hack into it?

Why didn’t these teachers get someone to do that in the first place? This could all be avoided!

But NOO, We gotta PUNSH THE kiddo!!

He gets NO SLEEP as a punishment!! That’s healthy!!

He also get BULLIED at the end and gets the LAST OF HIS MONEY STOLEN

BUT THAT’S OKAY BECAUSE HE DESERVES IT!!!

Exhaustion FOR WEEKS, Suspension, Go broke, get ROBBED, get BULLIED, BECOME A SLAVE.

GREAT INSPIRING LESSON DHAR MANN!!!

Look, guys, I know I’m just ranting at this point, but... I argued about this stuff already. And I’m tired myself from life.

Dhar Mann is THE LAST thing I need right now. But DEAR GOSH, he just keeps getting on my nerves!

I said before, his videos give me ANXIETY, which I have a bad case of. That’s why I can’t do these posts all the time unless it’s to VENT.

But venting means I’m the impostor, so therefore I’m using my writing skills FOR EVIL!

According to Dhar Mann I guess.

Real quick, please don’t take this as if I want Dhar Mann to stop making content, if he’s finding success, he’s finding success. But his content does not work for me, and I am baffled by the TERRIBLE anxiety inducing messages they bring, and how people SOMEHOW are INSPIRED by all of this!

If this works for you, good for you...

I don’t get it.

#Dhar Mann #Bad messages #Hacking #school sux #School is bad #Harmful messages #Harmful #punishment #this has to stop #you are good enough #you can do anything #i care about you

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rosyandraw · 2 years

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KGem here,

Have you ever felt exhausted with life to the point that you feel lost?

I think I live in a constant state of exhaustion. I have a lot of issues and trauma and blah blah blah, and I’ve had them for most of my life so, you know haha.

Honestly, I never know what I’m doing. I never know where I’m going. I don’t think I’ve ever really known tbh. I've had a pretty bad habit of just following where the world leads me.

It feels kind of like floating, except floating sounds too nice of a word. Like I’m stagnant and don’t know how to swim.

But I realised some time ago, and maybe it’s age that got me there, or just a weird kind of acceptance? Or more likely a petty refusal to let the things that have happened to me win?

But no one knows what the fuck they are doing. Everyone is just out here stumbling about in the dark, making it up as we go.

Listen to your body hun, that’s all I can say. If you’re overdoing it, take a break, if you’re putting pressure on yourself, set yourself boundaries and priorities. It sounds so cheesy, but I have to shave stuff off of my Things To Care About list all the time. Last year when I had a break down the list consisted of get up and eat something. And that was okay because that was my limit at the time. But it got better, it always gets better. Peaks and troughs, you know? That feeling will ebb and flow forever but in this world we’ve only ever got two things, no matter the circumstance, no matter your age: time and options. It may not feel like it, but you do. And there is absolutely no rush.

I promise, you’re not lost my dear, it’s just a pause for breath before a new direction.

And if you ever need to talk, or you want to tell me what’s up or anything, then I’m always here. And even if you just want to vent and don’t want me to publish it that’s fine too. I hope you're okay 💕💕

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bnhatrashsammy · 4 years

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You Think They’re Gonna Hit You

Includes: Izuku, Bakugou, Todoroki and my lovely Mina baby!

Warnings: ANGST but with a happy ending bc im baby, nothing too detailed though. Gender neutral reader <3

Mentions of abuse and cursing ofc (its me i always curse so like-)

_____________________________________________________

You had been in an abusive situation/relationship prior to your current relationship. You had yet to tell your partner.

You two were simply playing around, something very common in your relationship.

You were in his dorm, both of you going back and forth between tickling each other.

Your eyes were closed as you blindly search for his sides, your breath coming out in shrieks and gasps between you laughing so hard.

One you feel your lovely boo move so they’re hovering above you, rather than beside you and tickling the shit out of you, you open your eyes as you try to catch your breath.

However, once you see their position your breath gets caught in your throat, and your entire body freezes up.

They weren’t even in a very threatening pose, their face held a bright and playful grin. Yet, all you could focus on was the hand positioned like it was going to slap you.

It was practically coming for you in slow motion, you thought for sure your lovely partner was getting ready to slap you.

Without even thinking, you automatically flinch, hands coming up to protect your face, your body trembling in fear.

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku’s face changes from playful to concern very quickly, not that you can see from your tightly closed eyes and arms covering your face.

“Baby?” Izuku says softly, leaning back so he’s sitting cross-legged in front of your form. “(Y/N), baby, look at me please.” The utter concern and fear in his voice had you peaking your eyes open, looking between your fingers at the teary-eyed look he’s giving you.

Your body reacts before your mind really catches up to what the fuck just happened, and you sit up, crossing your legs as well and fiddle with your hands in your lap, looking anywhere but at Izuku’s gaze.

‘He’s gonna be so mad- he’s gonna yell and scream- I shouldn’t have reacted- if only I had just-’ Before you can even finish your rambling, terrifying thoughts, Izuku speaks up.

“D-did you think I was gonna hit you?” His voice comes out slowly and softly, but there’s not a hint of judgment. Only concern.

You slowly meet his gaze, continuing to fiddle with your hands. “N-not really you- It’s just what I’m used to so I just assumed-” You hurriedly try to explain before he speaks up again.

“Baby, you’re used to? How could you be used to- who did it? I’ll kill them, I swear!” Izuku leans forward slowly, as to not startle you anymore before pulling you to him, hugging you comfortingly, protectively.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, (Y/N). I promise. If I had known I wouldn't have done it. I'm so sorry baby.” Izuku reassures you genuinely.

Izuku continues reassuring you, comforting you and caring for you softly as you tell him about your past. Obviously you couldn’t spill everything out all at once, there would be more of these conversations in the future. But it was honestly nice. To just be able to get it out in the open, to have him comfort you.

“I will never hurt you, (Y/N). Let me be your hero.” Izuku says after you had cried out all your tears and fell asleep on him. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, before laying down with you and falling asleep himself.

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou freezes as the genuine fear he can clearly see on your trembling form. He’s quick to sit against his wall on the bed, pulling you into his lap as he comfortingly pets your hair.

You bury your head in the crook of his neck, a flurry of painful memories causing tears to build up in your tightly closed eyes as you grip onto Bakugou as if your life absolutely depended on it.

“I-i’m sorry- I didn’t mean too-” You try apologizing, but he’s quick to shush you, his voice gruff but gentle in his own Bakugou way.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, dumbass. Jus’ breathe.” Of course, Bakugou doesn’t blame you, but he also feels you thought he was going to hit you simply because of how angry he can be, he didn’t know of your past of abuse.

“I know i'm always angry and shit, but- fuck-,” His voice breaks, and he holds you the slightest bit tighter, more protectively. “I’d n-never hit you, (Y/N).” He tries to keep his voice steady but it breaks again as tears well up in his eyes. “I love you so much, I’d never do anything to hurt you, okay, baby? I swear it- fuck.”

You continue to grip onto him desperately, opening your mouth to speak even though you know your voice is gonna be hoarse from your crying, “I k-know you would’t- it just made me think about when it did happen and I-I just reacted. I k-know you’d never, Katsu- I’m s-”

“No. Don’t be sorry. Just talk to me. Please?” He says sternly, but giving you the option object, to just stay within his arms protectively.

So you tell him some of the things you had to endure. He drops the name ‘dumbass’, giving you soft nicknames and encouragement to continue when you started crying too much to continue talking.

Aside from his encouragements, and hushing of your apologies, he just let’s you speak what's on your mind. It’s freeing, and honestly you feel a lot better when it’s over.

“Thank you, Katsu. I love you. So very much.” You whisper tiredly as you finish your hours long conversation. Bakugou shakes his head as he continues rocking you comfortingly.

“I'm here for you through whatever, babe. And I plan to keep it that fuckin’ way.” He says, the determination in his voice caused a small smile on your face.

You eventually fall asleep, Bakugou humming gently as he continues rocking you comfortingly. Honestly, you couldn’t be happier in that moment, with the love of your life caring for you with no restraints.

Todoroki Shoto

Todoroki’s face instantly drops as he watches your reaction. He knows that reaction. He’s had that reaction too many times to count.

He lays beside you, cuddling into your side, rubbing circles over your sides in a comforting manor as your breathing eventually returns to normal.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” His voice sounds so remorseful, so genuinely hurt.

“It's not you- It’s just muscle memory- I know you’d never actually do anything to hurt me Sho.” Your voice comes out quickly, you turn over to hide into his chest as he rests his head against yours. He moves his hand so it’s rubbing your back soothingly.

“Talk to me?” Todoroki asks, and it makes your heart swell. He’s not the most emotional person, you loved him regardless of that fact obviously, but the fact that he’s offering to listen without you bringing it up first makes you a bit happier.

So you talk, telling him about different situations throughout your life that inevitably lead to the muscle memory reaction. Todoroki didn’t talk, preferring to just listen. He’d switch between rubbing your back, or running his hands through your hair, occasionally kissing along your hairline or kissing your cheeks softly as you vented.

Once you finish talking, genuinely too mentally and physically exhausted to continue, Todoroki speaks up.

“None of that was your fault. Those people- they were at fault. You had never done anything wrong, (Y/N). Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me enough to talk about this. You’re so strong and brave. I'm so proud to call you mine. I love you, (Y/N). Thank you for allowing me to help.” He ends his mini speech by placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

You smile at him tiredly, before pulling the blanket from the end of the bed bed and covering you both with it. You snuggle into his chest, leaning your head up to place a kiss on his jaw, before allowing sleep to take you.

Mina Ashido

Mina pauses at your reaction, confusion taking over her features before the realization slowly comes to her.

“Babycakes, no, i’d never-” She says quickly, jumping to straddle your lap, wrapping her arms around you reassuringly as your thoughts turn dark.

“It’s okay, cupcake, I’m here for you, jus breath, I've got you.” She reassures as your wrap your arms around her, cries slowly leaving your throat while she nuzzles the crook of your neck.

Before you can even open your mouth in an attempt to apologize she starts talking, “Don't you dare apologize. It’s not your fault, love.”

You can’t help the chuckle that interrupts your sobs, she knows you through and through.

“You want to talk about it, babycakes? I’ll listen. Let me be here for you please,” She pleads, just wanting to calm your painful sobs, just wanting to put a smile back on your perfect face. Her own eyes start to tear up, and she sniffles quietly.

You hug her a bit tighter, nodding your head. Once your tears calm down a bit, you tell her. You relay some of the events of the past that have scarred you to this day.

And with everything you say Mina continues to reassure you, kissing all over your face and hair. She continues holding you, not letting up for even a second. It means the world to you, just the fact that she’s being serious about it for you. She’s genuinely trying for you, and it makes a small smile light up your face as you finish retelling your past.

“There’s that gorgeous smile I love to see!” She says, a bright grin lighting up her face which just causes you to smile more.

“What would I do without you, Mina.” You say lovingly, as she wipes your eyes for hopefully the last time of the night.

Her smile turns loving as she gives you a small, gentle kiss.

“Let’s not find out, babycakes. You’re just gonna have to be stuck with me.”

Well, you couldn’t complain with her on that note.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mina x reader #mina ashido x reader #todoroki x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha headcannons #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mina x you #bnha x you #mha x you

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extasiswings · 3 years

Text

How we feeling clowns? Wrecked? Anyway, here, have an episode tag for both the crossover and Buck Begins. Also on ao3.

Eddie’s driving nearly on autopilot, the roads familiar as they get closer and closer to El Paso. Part of him almost wishes he hadn’t taken the driving shift to get them to his childhood home, even if it made the most sense—he can feel the tension in his jaw and shoulders creeping in, curling tighter with every mile they come closer, and his fingers itch for his phone, for the commiserating sympathies of his sisters who understand what he’s likely to walk into much more than Buck or Hen.

Technically they could have skipped the detour. Eddie hadn’t even planned on telling his parents he was coming to Texas at all—it was Christopher who let it slip, and then Eddie had been immediately put on the spot and he hadn’t been able to come up with a good way out of stopping by after his weak deflection that it wasn’t a social trip was met with well, you have to stop and eat somewhere, don’t you.

Sophia told him to lie and say the department said no. But she’s always been much better at lying to their parents outright than he is. Adriana shrugged and said if he didn’t want to go he didn’t need to give them a reason and should just say he wouldn’t be coming. But then, that’s her tactic as well and always has been—putting her foot down to establish hard boundaries, forging her own path and bucking all expectations. Eddie’s always fallen somewhere in the middle, which he supposes is fitting—struggling to set boundaries, often getting there only when pushed, wanting approval but lacking Sophia’s talent for gentle manipulation that usually leads people to think that whatever she wants was their idea.

So. Here he sits. Driving to El Paso.

“Eddie?”

He blinks and clears his throat as he registers Buck’s voice, the edge of concern that says it’s not the first time Buck has called his name.

“Yeah?”

“I was going to ask if you could pass back the aux cord,” Buck says. “But now I think I should ask if you’re okay.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder—Hen is in the back of the truck, head pillowed against the window, dozing with her eyes closed. He swallows.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen my parents is all,” he replies. “And usually when they call it’s to talk to Christopher so...it might be uncomfortable.”

Buck’s voice drops. “Have you talked to them since the thing? Other than about this I guess.”

The Thing, also known as the huge fight they got into when Eddie decided that if he was going to keep working he couldn’t live at home for awhile and they tried to once again insist that he take Chris back to live with them. Like some terrible combination of the arguments they had before he moved to LA and after Shannon’s funeral, only even worse because Eddie had been raw enough over the decision to move in with Buck and let his abuela take care of Chris for awhile and really didn’t need to hear anyone tell him that choice made him a bad parent—

Sophia had been spitting mad when he told her and while he doesn’t know what she said in her own subsequent call to their parents, he knows that the next time they called him, the subject didn’t come up again. Which, he supposes is as close to an apology as he’s ever likely to get.

He probably could have used that as an excuse to not visit. But then, that’s not really how they are. Don’t apologize, pretend you don’t hold grudges, act like everything is fine, and repress until it feels like it is—the Diaz family way.

Eddie sighs as he focuses on the road.

“Not really,” he replies. “They’ve called Christopher every few weeks, but we’ve only talked directly...three times maybe since then? Things seem to go south more quickly when we’re in person though so I guess I’m…”

“Bracing for impact,” Buck fills in quietly. “I get that.”

“Yeah?”

Buck shrugs. “I don’t talk about my parents,” he points out. “Don’t talk to them either if I can avoid it because they always have a way of managing to just—anyway. The last time I even called was after everything with Maddie and Doug. Haven’t seen them since...since before I started with the 118 at least. So. Yeah. I get it.”

He hesitates, then adds, “You know I have your back, right? You’re my best friend and you’re an amazing father. I’m not going to let anybody get away with talking badly about you in front of me, even if they are your parents.”

Eddie glances back and manages a faint smile, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admits. “Even if you did try to steal a fire truck in the middle of the night without me.”

Buck laughs and shoves at his shoulder. “At least it wasn’t this truck. Besides—you caught up before I did it anyway.”

“Yeah, my Buck’s about to do something dangerous senses were tingling, couldn’t let that slide,” Eddie teases.

“Just give me the damn aux cord,” Buck shoots back, but he’s grinning.

And as they pass the next exit, Eddie feels like maybe things won’t be quite so bad.

***

Buck hates Eddie’s parents.

It’s not the most charitable thing to think about someone you’ve only just officially met—he saw them at the ceremony when Eddie passed his probationary period, but he’d been on pretty strong painkillers at the time and Maddie had shuffled him back home as soon as possible—but he really does.

He hates the tense, anxious set of Eddie’s shoulders, hates the way his smile looks forced—it triggers the same fierce, protective instinct that rears its head whenever he gets between his parents and Maddie, and, well, he did promise, so—

He really doesn’t feel bad for interrupting the very first digs about how seeing Christopher over video isn’t the same as in person, but it’s nice to have the option and technology really is wonderful, Zoom calls must have been a great improvement from your army days, right son with—

“You know, it is wonderful isn’t it? Did Eddie tell you how amazing Christopher is handling hybrid learning? It’s really so great how his teachers have adapted, I can’t imagine he would have kept up so well anywhere else.”

Buck smiles brightly as Eddie’s mother’s lips thin. Hen coughs and takes a long sip of lemonade. Eddie blinks in surprise from across the table and clears his throat, grasping at the lifeline.

“Yeah, top of his class,” Eddie says.

“He even has a reading group once a week with some of the other kids in his class that Eddie started to help them stay social. I know a lot of the other parents appreciate it,” Buck adds, and Eddie rubs at the back of his neck.

“We definitely do,” Hen says, glancing at Eddie’s father as she clarifies, “I have a son Christopher’s age. They used to play together all the time before all of this.”

“His therapist said kids are resilient, but I wanted to at least try and give him something normal,” Eddie replies, and his mother’s brows raise.

“Christopher is in therapy?” There’s a note in her tone that makes Eddie tense and Buck’s hackles raise.

“I took him to see someone for a few sessions after Shannon died, mom,” Eddie says evenly. After the tsunami, Buck fills in for himself. “It didn’t seem like a bad idea to go back again to make sure he’s okay during a time that’s pretty unprecedented for just about everyone.”

“Really, I think more parents should send their kids to therapy,” Buck interjects. “If it’s a feasible option, I can’t see that it’s anything other than great parenting to make sure your kid has the best tools they can to take care of their mental health.”

God knows if he’d gone to therapy a hell of a lot sooner, he might not be struggling through sessions with Dr. Copeland now that he’s nearly thirty, but that’s not really the point.

“Well, some people feel those sorts of things are best taken care of within the family,” Eddie’s mother replies.

“With all due respect, sometimes the family’s way of handling problems just makes things worse,” Buck replies, his smile dropping briefly before he forces it back again.

“This lemonade really is delicious, Mrs. Diaz,” Hen jumps in as Eddie pushes his chair back and starts collecting empty plates. “I would love to get the recipe before we leave. If you don’t mind.”

Startled, the older woman blinks. “Oh. Yes, of course. I’ll write it down for you.”

Buck pushes back his own chair as Hen continues redirecting the conversation and follows Eddie into the kitchen where he finds his best friend gripping the edge of the sink.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

Eddie looks over his shoulder and exhales heavily. “Hey.”

“Sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t,” Eddie assures. “I’m just...exhausted. And ready to get back on the road and home to my kid.”

He hesitates, then adds, “you know, my sisters would be impressed. I haven’t seen someone manage our parents like that since they left. I—thank you.”

“I meant what I said in the truck, Eddie,” Buck replies. “You’re an amazing father and a great man and—it’s not right that anyone should pretend any different. So. I won’t let them.”

Eddie glances at the hallway. “Guess we have to go back eventually. I didn’t quite think this escape plan through.”

“Once more unto the breach?” Buck offers. The smile he gives Eddie is far different from the fake one he’s had up since they arrived, and when Eddie returns it, a spark returning to his eyes, it makes Buck’s stomach flip and his pulse race.

He tries not to think too hard about that. They still have a long drive ahead of them—plenty of time to save it for later.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

***

When they get home, Eddie barely manages to shower and plug in his phone to charge before falling into bed and immediately going to sleep. When he wakes up, he finally checks his messages and sees several missed calls and texts from his sisters.

So? Sophia asks. How was it?

<em>You were right</em>, Eddie taps out, and then waits. His phone rings a few seconds later.

“I’ll save the I told you so in favor of asking if I should get Adriana on the line for an emergency Diaz sibling parental grievance vent session or if I’ll suffice,” Sophia greets.

“It’s not that serious,” Eddie replies. “I’m okay—a little annoyed still, but...I’m okay.”

He’s not quite sure what compels him to add, “Buck was there. He, uh, he told them off about it a little actually. Politely, but that kind of polite...you know the one.”

“The one that’s basically go fuck yourself with a smile and/or plausible deniability?” Sophia fills in, and Eddie laughs.

“Yeah, that.” He rubs at the back of his neck and leans back in his chair. “It was—he kept pointing out things about what a great dad I am.”

There’s something about the feeling in his gut that he can’t name. Something he wants to poke at, to explore, but that also makes him wary. Like a yellow caution light—it’s not a do not enter but it’s not risk free either—and he’s not sure whether it’s a risk he can take yet.

Sophia is quiet for a moment. Then she says, “You are a great dad, Eddie. In spite of them. I’m glad you have other people in your life who recognize that too. You deserve that. You deserve to trust that you’re good at things, even if mom and dad say you aren’t. You deserve to be happy, so...”

The silence that follows feels weighty.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Is Buck—?” Sophia cuts herself off. “—nevermind. Hey, the twins are calling, so I’ll call back again later, okay? Love you.”

Is Buck what? Eddie wants to ask. But he swallows it back.

“Love you, too,” he says instead. “Talk to you later.”

As he hangs up and tosses his phone aside, his mind wanders back to that feeling. Right up to the edge of warning lights and caution tape. And Eddie wonders for a moment if he should—

There’s a knock at his door.

“Dad? You awake?”

“Yeah, buddy,” he calls back. “Be right there.”

Later. He can think about it later.

***

Eddie figures it out at the worst possible time—in the middle of a five-alarm fire when Buck’s trapped inside and he doesn’t know if—

What do you do when you realize you might be in love with your best friend and they could die?

“We have to go back in there,” he says, before he can think of any reason why he shouldn’t. “We can’t just leave him, we have to—”

“You’re right,” Bobby interrupts, and the other captain makes a noise of frustration.

“Captain Nash—”

“You’re right,” Bobby repeats, holding Eddie’s gaze. “We’re going to get him back.”

Maybe it’s stupid, four trained firefighters diving back into an active blaze in an unstable building with unclear direction, but Eddie can’t regret it when he sees the desperation on Buck’s face. The relief. The impending breakdown.

After, he’s assigned to take care of the victim and Buck’s carted off to the hospital to get checked, and Eddie thinks maybe that’s better. It gives him time, at least. Time to figure out what to say, what to do, whether he should say or do anything at all. Part of him doesn’t know. The rest is screaming I love him, I love him, I love him, wants to get his hands on Buck to verify for himself that he’s fine. That he’s alive. That he’s going to stay that way.

But when he gets back to the station, Buck’s parents are there, sitting at the table, and Eddie just—

He thinks about the look on Buck’s face earlier in the shift when he spilled everything, when he explained how he was apparently born just for parts and how he used to throw himself into bad situations because it was the only way to get their attention.

He could ignore them. But he doesn’t.

“He saved my son, you know,” Eddie says, gripping the top of the staircase as the Buckleys look up. And it’s probably somewhat insane to keep talking because he knows they don’t even know who he is, but he can’t help it because he just needs them to understand— “Buck. He wasn’t even working at the time, he was on medical leave and didn’t know if he would ever be able to be a firefighter again. But he saved my son in the middle of a tsunami—my then eight-year-old son, and god knows I can’t imagine losing him, I think that would be the worst thing I could possibly go through, and I’m not sure I would survive it, but I didn’t have to because Buck saved him. And probably twenty other people as well. That’s just the kind of person he is. The kind who saves people.”

They don’t say a word, so he keeps going. “He could have died today. Because he didn’t want to leave anyone behind. Because he is a good man, even if he doesn’t ever feel like he’s good enough. And he hasn’t said a lot about you, but he’s said enough for me to know that while he’s gotten the latter impression from you, he learned the former himself. He built his life here himself. So...I don’t know why you’re here, if you want to explain yourselves or just want him to forgive you because you feel guilty, but I just wanted you to know that. That he’s a good man. The best man that I know. And if you’re proud of him for that, he deserves to hear it. That’s all.”

Eddie walks away then, heart beating too fast, blood rushing in his ears.

The best man that I know. And I’m in love with him.

That wasn’t for their ears though.

It thrums in his veins, the words caught in his throat as he showers, changes, waits for Buck to return to the station. And when he does, Eddie almost—

But something stops him.

“You have visitors,” he says instead. And leaves Buck to it.

Buck finds him in the locker room after.

“So, my parents said they heard stories about me while they were waiting,” he says. “When I asked them who from, they said they didn’t know, but that I saved their son in a tsunami—and trust me, that got a hell of a lot of questions.”

Eddie is grateful for the open locker, the excuse to hide his face as he pulls out his street clothes.

“Yeah, well—just because they’re not going to appreciate you doesn’t mean that nobody else does.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie pulls back and takes a breath before looking over at Buck. There’s a look in Buck’s eyes like he’s trying to piece Eddie together like a puzzle, to work out all the things he hasn’t said. And Eddie suddenly feels exposed, far more than he had when Buck was sitting in his childhood dining room staring down his own parents.

“You’re a good man,” Eddie says quietly. “They should hear that. And...someone should be willing to defend it.”

Buck’s quiet for a moment.

“I have to go see Maddie,” he says finally. “But maybe I could come by later? And we could...talk?”

“You don’t have to ask, Buck,” Eddie replies. “You know I—” I always want you. “—you’re always welcome.”

Buck watches him in silence for another long moment, then nods. “Okay. Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

It’s hours before there’s a knock on the door. Hours in which Eddie burns dinner and then orders takeout because he’s too busy thinking, hours that he spends trapped in his own head, thinking through all the worst case scenarios, through every what if of how things could go wrong.

But also how they could go right.

And by the time he opens the door, he’s almost ready to just let the words trip off his tongue, but before he can, Buck says—

“Please don’t tell me I’m wrong about this.”

—and kisses him.

Eddie freezes, but before Buck can pull back, he slides a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and kisses him back with everything in him—every bit of thank god you’re alive and I was so afraid and I can’t lose you that he can muster. By the time Buck pulls away, they’re both breathless.

“I’m in love with you,” Buck admits. “I’ve been—”

“Me too,” Eddie replies. “I thought—I thought you were—”

Buck kisses him again.

“I can’t believe you told off my parents.”

“Well, you told off mine, so—”

Eddie pulls Buck through the door.

“Chris is in his room,” he says quietly. “But...you should stay for dinner. And…”

You should stay. Just stay.

Buck does.

#chapel writes #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 spoilers #(just in case)

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uniarycode · 3 years

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Takari Week 2021, Day 1 - Sibling Shenanigans.

Things have gotten too bad, Taichi and Yamato need an intervention. And if they pay close attention, they might learn something important.

Nah, who we kidding.

Written as part of @takariweek

In some ways, Yamato was Taichi’s closest friend. They had gone through hell and back together, forming an unbreakable bond.

That said, they had different tastes in music, TV, and basically anything. Taichi preferred to watch sports and anime, Yamato preferred dramas and cooking shows. Taichi flourished in the company of others, Yamato demurred in the presence of anyone he wasn’t familiar with.

But one pastime they could both agree on was a good old fashion round of Smash. Whenever it was just the two of them, they generally sat down, fired up the N64, and just let their preferred characters bash one out.

As they were doing until a few seconds ago when an unsightly banner obscured their view of the television. “intervention” was proudly displayed, with one ‘i’ dotted with the crest of courage and the other with the crest of friendship. The phrase was repeated in Japanese, just underneath, in case the translation caused them to miss the point.

Either end of the banner was affixed to a small wooden tripod, being gently lowered to the ground by a devious sibling.

“What’s going on?” Yamato grumbled, still mashing buttons on the control in hopes of gaining an edge. “And when did you even have time to make that?”

Hikari ignored the protestation “We’re here because we’re your family and we care about you. We hoped that time would heal this wound, but time is no longer on our side. You two will be going to college soon, and we need to break through to you before too late.”

“What are you talking about?” Taichi asked. “We were in the middle of something.”

“Smash can wait, we can’t keep putting this off.” She took a deep breath. “This may be hard to hear, but please understand, it needs to be said: You are atrocious when talking to girls.”

“What?”

“Look Taichi, you’ve already near exhausted all your high school options, if something doesn’t change, you’re going to end up alone and unloved, filling your apartment with pets for some form of companionship.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” he asked. She solemnly shook her head ‘No’ in response.

“Can I go?” Yamato cut in. “I have a girlfriend, if you remember. We’ve been dating for years now.”

“Yes, and she still calls me to rant about it after every date.” Takeru cut. “I can only clean up your messes for so long Yamato, you have to learn how to do it yourself. Or better yet, don’t make messes in the first place.”

“Ouch.” Taichi said, casting a sideways glance at his co-captive.

“You aren’t any better Taichi,” Hikari shot, “You had seven people and eight Digimon wingmaning you on a simple phone call, and you still managed to mess it up.”

This time it was Yamato who glanced at Taichi.

“Now.” Takeru said “The first thing you need to learn is observation. If you pay attention to someone and signal that you notice when something changes. This shows you care enough about the other person to actually look at them and remember what they looked like yesterday.”

He cleared his throat, “For example, if say, your girlfriend decides to style her hair differently, you should maybe compliment the style change, instead of being oblivious. Wouldn’t you say, Yamato?”

“It was one time.” Yamato grumbled.

“Perhaps a practical demonstration would be better.” Hikari said. “Oh, Takeru, Honey, sorry I’m late, the train was delayed.”

“Don’t worry about it Babe, I’m just glad you’re here. Hey is that a new ring?”

“Why yes, thank you for noticing,” she said, bringing her hands up and giving the ring a twirl. “my BFF got it for me as an end-of-middle school present.”

“Ahh, I could tell it was someone close to you, that’s your birthstone on top right?”

“Yep.”

Takeru turned back towards his unwillingly captive audience. “See how I not only noticed the ring, remarked upon it, but also showed I remember her birth date.”

Taichi looked across at Yamato, “Do you know any of the birthstones?” A shrug was the only answer.

“You may think observation is only for what you can see, but it’s deeper than that. Any piece of information falls under observation, and if you like a girl, you will do your best to remember anything you learn about her.” Hikari said.

“Observation is really important, right Hikari?” Takeru asked.

“Very, but knowing everything can’t help if you don’t know how to use it. Which brings us to lesson two.”

“Is this whole thing just a ploy for your sister to practice being a teacher?” Yamato muttered.

“Tact!” Hikari and Takeru declared in unison.

“Tact is pretty tricky. You mostly define it by what not to do. Like not being a dumbass.” Takeru said.

“True, tact can be hard to see when done well. It’s basically about avoiding the obvious traps. For example, when calling a girl whose Maine coon died recently, you should maybe try and avoid mentions about that dead cat, unless she needs to vent. Isn’t that right, Taichi?”

“That was one time.” He protested.

“Right, right, a demonstration?” Takeru asked, pulling a magazine out from behind his back, and pretending to flip through the pages.

“Oh Honey, there you are.” Hikari said looking him up and down. She paused for a few seconds, then pulled lightly on his arm. “Say, I hear there’s a Harry Potter-themed escape room running these days, how about we go there on our next date.”

Takeru put the magazine down “Oh, what’s that? Thanks Babe.” he asked.

Hikari turned back towards the couch. “Notice how I observed the story about his favorite basketball star being caught in a scandal, and deflected toward other interests, instead of stepping on that land mine.”

“How would we even think to notice that?” Yamato grumbled.

“With observation of course.” Takeru replied. “Notice everything, even the things that aren’t being conveyed directly.”

“Being perfect might work for you Takeru, but some of us are human.” Taichi said.

“Oh, I’m hardly the only guy with a girlfriend. You just have to put some effort in.” Takeru said, “Which is as good a segue as any to topic three: Compliments.”

“I know how to give a compliment.” Taichi said.

“Do you?” Hikari asked. “So if you were at the beach with say Sora, or Mimi, or Meiko, you would be able to properly compliment their swimsuits?”

“One time!” Yamato and Taichi yelled together.

“And yet three failures. Pretty poor performance when you think about it.” Takeru said.

“Compliments can be tricky; they require you to combine the previous two skills. You need to observe someone so the compliment makes sense, but you also need tact. Something that’s a compliment to one person may be a touchy subject to another.” Hikari explained.

“Especially when it comes to appearance and body parts,” Takeru said, “and you don’t want to get too accustomed to your compliments either, keep them fresh and exciting.”

“It’s amazing isn’t it Taichi?” Yamato asked.

“So many words and I don’t think they said anything.” He agreed.

“Perhaps the demonstration then.” Takeru said, turning to his partner. “Hikari, I saw you reading to some of the elementary students today, boy am I lucky to have such a kind girlfriend.”

“Don’t mention it. I enjoy it, and I like to think they did too. Say, can you open this jar for me? It should be easy for a strong man like you.” Hikari said.

Takeru mimed grabbing and opening a jar. “Anything for you Babe, say, is that a new shirt, you look positively radiant today.”

Hikari raised her hand to cover her giggle, “I’m so glad I have such a funny boyfriend. You know this is the school uniform, I’ve been wearing it for almost three years now.”

“Huh, you’re right. I guess I never noticed, every time I look at you I can’t help but be overwhelmed by those pools of milky hazel, whenever I see them, my troubles float away and I feel like I have the strength of a thousand men. I could spend hours just staring into those wells of pure emotion.”

“I, uh, uhh, I like your eyes too?”

Takeru let out a large laugh and the pair turned back to the couch to find it no longer occupied.

“That’s no good. They’ll never learn like this.” Takeru admonished

Hikari raised her hands again, twirling the promise ring on her finger. “Do you think they noticed?” she asked.

“Them? No way.” Takeru replied, “but that’s what makes it fun. See how long it takes before they catch on.”

“What if someone else tells them we’re dating first?”

Takeru shrugged, “Just say we already told them, they just weren’t paying enough attention.”

#Digimon #takari week #takari #takeru takashi #hikari yagami #digimon tri

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kyun-toast · 3 years

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[MONSTA X] Changkyun - Happy Without Me

word count: 3.8k warnings: alcohol, suggestions of smoking, swearing, suggestions of sex summary: I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time a/n: I’ve been listening to the All About Luv album a lot recently and Happy Without Me hit a little different the other day. I hope you don’t notice how I slacked off near the end 💜

“Yerim what are you wearing for tonight? I wanna look cute but not like ‘I’ve put effort in’ kinda cute, you know? Like I’m always this cute.”

Yerim laughed as she replied, “You’d look hot wearing a bin bag so shut up and let me know what drinks you want. It’s ‘bring your own booze’ so I was gonna run to the store for extra before we go.”

“Umm, vodka? Tequila? Maybe rum? I’m getting smashed tonight and you’re all going to carry me home, just letting you know.” Soobin winked and blew kisses at the both of you with a coy smile on her face, as some form of ‘thank you in advance’ for the troubles that you would be going through later that night. As much pain she put the both of you through, it was hard not to love her.

“Yeah, you say that as if that’s not what happens every week, you psycho.”

You smiled from the comfort of your sofa as you witnessed the two of your best friends bicker. You were never really one for parties, but you decided to let yourself go after an unfortunate night maybe five? six months ago. You thought that you could vent your frustrations into your notes app and be done with it, but your friends took pity and introduced you to another option. One where you could numb your mind with alcohol and crashing bass, and you figured that it was somewhat more enjoyable than cry-writing shitty poetry on a Friday night. Notes app therapy was now a thing of the past.

Changkyun had become such an integral part of your life that you couldn’t help yourself from unconsciously replaying memories that you had attempted to bury. A simple look at the most irrelevant objects would have him running through your mind before you could even stop yourself. Oh, we bought this mug together. You were surprised he hadn’t taken it with him when he left. It was his favourite mug to drink whiskey out of. Speaking of whiskey, you needed a drink. It had only taken days for him to make himself at home at the forefront of your thoughts but how long was it going to take to rid of him?

As much as you tried to keep those thoughts at bay, no amount of alcohol could ever stop them from crashing back over you whenever you saw that little smiley face appear at the top of your Instagram feed.

imnameim. When had he posted a story? You hadn’t seen the pink circle earlier. Would it be too early to look at it now? You couldn’t risk tapping on it only to see that it had been posted 12 seconds ago, just like you had done the other day. And the day before. And the day before that. Should you just make a burner account? No, that’s too far, we’re not going there today, bitch... Maybe tomorrow.

You hated how much power that tattoo face held over you, looking straight into your eyes - almost mockingly. Oh, did I look like a smiley face to you six months ago? Well, I’m a sad face now and that’s all you’re ever going to see.

“Y/N! Hey! You’re going to stare a hole into your phone.” Soobin clapped in your face, trying to get your attention. You looked up, softening your expression to meet Yerim’s eyes.

“Soobin was asking what you’re going to wear tonight.” Yerim said.

“I don’t know, probably that top I got yesterday?” you shrugged, unbothered by your friends’ question. You weren’t going to parties to impress anyone; you were going to drink the last of your braincells away.

“Y/N, ‘that top’ you got yesterday is a free t-shirt you got from the Domino’s pop-up stall on campus. I’m not letting you do this again.” Yerim dead panned.

“OK and...?” You met both of their concerned faces only to have them grab each of your arms.

��Come on. Up. That’s it.” You made unintelligible noises as they dragged you up off the sofa and into your closet. The thoughts about Changkyun’s story were left on the sofa as your mind was now filling with an excited buzz. “You act like you hate this, but I know you love getting trashed with us, Y/N.” Yerim laughed and you knew it too.

Changkyun lay in Jae-in’s bed, with her nestled in his chest as he looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Being careful not to wake her, he slowly squeezed his arm out from under her head to lay on his stomach to scroll through Instagram.

He had posted a story over an hour ago, half hoping that you’d see it – a cover of Dean’s Instagram. How ironic.

He shook his head at how pathetic his efforts seemed, whispering to himself, “What the hell are you doing?” He refreshed his feed for the last time to see that you had posted a video of the three of you dancing to a song in your walk-in closet. Probably drunk. Upon re-watching the video on loop for the third time, he concluded that you were most definitely drunk.

Seeing you having fun like this had him torn between being happy for you, moving on with your life and probably on to other men too. Being attractive plus the endless number of parties you went to now was just the perfect recipe. You were bound to have found someone.

And this is where the hatred washed over him. He despised it. Hated seeing you have fun without him, moving on as if he had never existed. Was it that easy for you to just forget? It seemed unfair that he was still struggling to keep you off his mind while you were out having the time of your life, letting your followers know of that fact too.

Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t happy for you at all. He was just trying to kid himself into thinking that he was. Be mature and everything. That was what both of you had agreed to be when your relationship came to an end. After days of what could probably be called a verbal equivalent of a nuclear war, the two of you had given up.

Crying, shouting, complete silence, you had done it all and there was no end in sight. On day three of radio silence, you felt as if you could do without speaking to Changkyun at all. When you brought it up, he admitted he felt the same. Exhaustion making both of you devoid of any emotion, you agreed to disagree and act like the fight had never happened. You were tired and wanted nothing more to do with it. Or each other. Thinking of yourselves as somewhat grown, you decided to be civil since you were in the same circle of friends, not wanting to burden them with any of your problems.

With so many things left unsaid and ties still loose, there was no way that you could just cut clean. But you never so much as bumped into each other since.

You hadn’t blocked each other though, as you both felt that it was some sign of weakness. Yeah, I’m tough enough to keep them on my socials. They don’t bother me. Not at all. But in the small hours of the morning, you were on each other’s profiles, hoping for a glimpse of what they were up to. Wondering if he had finished that song he was working on. If you were eating well. If he was really seeing Jae-in seriously. If you were well and truly happy.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Y/N’s doing just fine for themselves, everyone can see that.

“Did you finish that essay?”

No, that’s too random.

“I think about you all the time.”

Shut up Changkyun.

Though you had both agreed to be ‘friends’, there was no easy way in going about messaging one another when you had fought so explosively. Changkyun also felt that he had missed the right timeframe for him to salvage whatever there was left of the relationship. Whether it be platonic or romantic. No matter how much he wanted to message you, his pride falsely masked as maturity stopped him from ever doing more than wish for you to call him and say that everything was going to be ok. That you can start over.

“Do you wanna go to Minhyuk’s house party?” Jae-in’s voice was heavy with sleep, squinting her eyes at the bright screen of her phone. Changkyun was startled from his thoughts, not realising that she had been woken up by a text.

“House party…?” Changkyun was dubious.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to, it’s just that we don’t ever do anything besides fuck, and I thought we could do with a change of scenery.”

“I mean yeah it’s just that we’ve never hung out with other people before. Like together.”

He had met Jae-in at a bar a few months ago. Holed up in his studio after the breakup, Changkyun got to channelling his anger into working on his music until his course mate Minhyuk persuaded him out for drinks. Minhyuk had flirted with the girls from the table over to get them to join in on the pity party. Jae-in had seated herself next to Changkyun and a few drinks later, they had quickly bonded over their childhood obsession with Death Note to which she followed up with an invitation to watch it at her place. Who was Kyun to reject? With all this pent-up energy to spare, music wasn’t quite cutting it.

“I doubt anyone will care that we arrived together.” Jae-in shrugged. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, I invited Jae-in and I think Changkyun might come with her too.” Minhyuk stated nonchalantly over the phone. You choked on your wine and thanked God that the music in your room was loud enough to cover the unnatural sound you had just made. “Y/N, is that ok? I should have asked you befo-”

“No, I don’t care.” You replied a little too quickly, “It’s been months and we broke up on good terms anyway, remember?”

“MINNIE! I MISS YOU!” Soobin drunkenly shouted across the room as Yerim held her back from throwing herself at the phone.

“I MISS YOUR FACE TOO, BINNIE! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!” Minhyuk chuckled as he didn’t hesitate to match her volume through the phone.

“Ugh, you two make me sick”, Yerim rolled her eyes, “You literally saw each other this morning. Just get together already.”

As Soobin and Minhyuk continued to chat, engulfed in their own little world, you reached to grab another drink. If Minhyuk’s predictions were right, you were going to need something stronger than wine to get you through the night.

Stepping into Minhyuk’s apartment, Changkyun could feel the bass rumble underneath his feet already.

“Hey! You made it! I thought you guys weren’t going to come, it’s so late! But we have drinks and snacks in the kitchen. Oh, and Jae-in, the bathrooms just through the hallway on the right…” Minhyuk’s voice trailed off into the loud music. Changkyun followed behind Jae-in as his friend gave the newcomer a guided tour of his place.

Though he was familiar with the apartment, it felt a little weird for him to walk through it with someone else by his side. A pack of cards strewn over the floor jogged his memory back to a particularly warm night in June. With the sun just beginning to rise, you both stood below Minhyuk’s balcony at 4am. You shouted,

“HEY MINHYUK, WE’RE GOING TO PLAY UNO AT YOUR PLACE, D’YOU WANNA JOIN?”

“THOUGHT WE’D ASK IN CASE YOU’D FEEL LEFT OUT.” Changkyun added. You both snickered as Minhyuk opened his window to shout back at you, regretting that he had ever given you two the spare keys to his apartment.

“ARE YOU REALLY INVITING ME TO PLAY CARDS MY OWN HOUSE RIGHT NOW?!” Birds fluttered away startled, as a neighbouring window flashed on a light in annoyance. Your shouting combined could never top the sheer volume of Minhyuk’s voice. Changkyun grabbed your hand as you ran into the building laughing before the neighbour could join in on the screaming match.

With classes finished for the year, you had what felt like an infinite amount of time on your hands. Kyun smiled to himself as he was reminded of those summer nights that he had spent with you. Stargazing, pillow talking, daydreaming on repeat.

“Yeah, so you can get to the outdoor space through the living room but I’m giving you special access to my little balcony through my room because you’re uh, Changkyun’s friend.” Minhyuk grinned as he ended his tour.

Upon entering the actual party in the lounge, Changkyun stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the other side of the room. For a moment, the smoke in the room seemed to clear as his eyes trained on you throw your head back in laughter at Yerim’s animated storytelling. Hearing your voice so crystal clear made his heart swell with something that he couldn’t quite put into words. Half a year had passed since he had last seen you, sat broken on the floor of your apartment, explaining that it would be best to part ways. You had looked so drained of emotion then; it was such a stark contrast to what he was seeing now. He stood frozen, heart beating hard against his chest like a hammer.

“Kyun! Why are you so late?” Wonho, another friend of Kyun’s appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of tequila in his hand. “You gotta catch up on the drinks now, come on, open your mouth.” Wonho went to grab his face with one hand as he proceeded to try and pour some alcohol into his mouth jokingly. Changkyun chuckled as he play-fought with Wonho only to stop midway when he noticed Jae-in smiling at the sight.

“Oh, this is my friend Jae-in.” Kyun straightened up and brushed off his clothes.

Wonho went to shake her hand as Minhyuk snuck up behind him.

"Yeah, friend.” He giggled as he raised his brows suggestively and left as quickly as he appeared shouting, “Binnie! Where are you? We gotta go make those s’mores you wanted!”

Changkyun rolled his eyes and smiled as he guided Jae-in to the nearest table of drinks and set to introducing her to the rest of his friends, hoping that you wouldn’t notice him.

At this point, the three of you were beyond gone. Soobin had already passed out with a s’more in her hand as Minhyuk hauled her over his shoulder to put her to sleep in the guest room.

“And she.. she was telling me to sythensi.. she was telling me thynsenise, no, synsi.. she wanted me to synthesise, there we go, snythi…” Yerim tripped over words, dead set on getting her pronunciation right while Hyungwon sat and nodded with his signature painful smile on his face. She was determined, hand on his shoulder with a grip that let him know he wasn’t going anywhere until she had finished her story.

As for you? You were sat next to Yerim, a vacant smile on your face as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Day drinking followed up with a house party in the evening really wasn’t the best idea for the lightweights that you are but there you were, listening to your friend repeat the same sentence over and over again. An urgent voice in your head piped up, letting you know that you should probably go for a breath of fresh air.

“Yerim, hey, Yerim, I’m.. going for some air… stay with Hyungwon okay? Hyungwon, call me if anything happens?” You stood up, struggling to find your balance and teetered across the room to get to Minhyuk’s balcony.

The thing about you is that you are one of those blessed people that can sober up as quickly as they get smashed. You felt refreshed, taking in a deep breath as if to cleanse your alcohol ridden bloodstreams with the cool evening air. Your head still spun a little but as long as you kept your eyes anchored on the moon, you’d be fine in no time.

As much as your body needed a break from the party, it wasn’t the greatest timing for your mental state. Once you had assumed that Changkyun wasn’t coming to the party, you let go of the anxiety holding you back from enjoying yourself. You had been overstimulated from the alcohol, music, and people, not giving yourself a chance to think about anything else. But once those factors were gone, it was just you, alone with your drunken thoughts on a balcony looking up at the moon. And just like that, those suppressed memories regarding a certain boy couldn’t help but unpack themselves from your unconscious. Oh man, this was going to be such a good cry.

Changkyun was beginning to feel a little too tipsy for his liking. Though he was having a great time, it felt as if he wasn’t entirely present at the scene, like he was watching and laughing along through a TV screen. He slipped away from the kitchen island to get a breather.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was here.” He apologised, going to close the door of Minhyuk’s balcony to a figure hunched over the railing. You looked up from your hands at him and tried to focus on the blurry face.

His movements faltered when your eyes met, door still open. Just one look at you was enough for that knock back into reality Changkyun had needed. God were you a sight for sore eyes. He drank up the way your cheeks and nose were flushed pink, how your eyes were glossy in the moonlight, eyelashes thick with tears, and the way the softly coloured city lights behind you framed your face. With the night air stained with your perfume and the sounds of muted traffic perfecting the scene, he had never felt so in the present until now. He wanted this moment to last a lifetime.

“Changkyun?” You replied, as you wiped your eyes clear of the tears blurring your vision. You could tell that voice apart anywhere, you only questioned in the slight chance that you were just hallucinating, going insane.

“Are you ok? I can leave if you want, I-” He began hurriedly, knowing that you hated having anyone see you cry.

“I’m fine.” You sniffed.

“Bad day?” He asked softly, bringing himself to stand next to you, looking over at the cityscape.

“Yeah, something like that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh as you wiped the last of the tears from your face.

Tension hung so thick in the air you could feel it weigh down on your shoulders. Changkyun hated that you, the person he had once shared the deepest parts of his mind with, was someone he was now so uncomfortable with.

You both stood there awhile, looking out at the blinking lights of the cityscape. As quiet as it was, you could almost hear the sound of your brains whirring, going back and forth over whether or not you should say something to break the silence. Changkyun had spent months thinking of questions he wanted to ask you for when this moment came, but the alcohol and nerves fogged up his mind. All he could think of doing was holding you in his arms, hoping for you to be able to feel his apologies, sincerity and promises through the beating of his chest.

A heavy pressing in your lungs only intensified, as you thought about how the present situation had become the outcome of those few perfect years. You regulated your breathing, trying to break down the lump from coming up in your throat, on the verge of tears again. Thinking back, you realised that you probably could have been a little more understanding, could have softened your sharp words, could have opened your heart up some more to allow for Changkyun to do so in return. These thoughts and emotions bubbled up inside your chest to spill out of your mouth before you even knew what you wanted to say.

“Changkyun, I-”

“I found a really nice place for nights like this. Y/N.” he cut across with an anxious tremble in his voice. He could feel the apology ready to tumble from your lips, he had to stop you from apologising for things that you really didn’t need to. He hated that your heart was so big and so loving that you were willing to start trying to mend this relationship first. But he hated himself more for not having the courage to try to be even half as loving as you are.

He continued, still looking out over the balcony, worried that he’d start to tear up if he met your eyes again, “you can see the stars so clearly, it’s insane.”

You turned to him, tears welling in your eyes again. Despite having cut each other from your lives for what felt like a lifetime, it broke you how he could still read you like his favourite book.

“Can we go? Y/N? I’ve waited so long to show you.”

Hot tears fell down your cheeks again as Changkyun noticed and turned to you, pulling you into his chest as you cried out the mess of emotions you had amassed.

The person you had wanted to talk about your breakup with Changkyun the most, was so ironically Changkyun. He’d know how to calm you down, how to sort out your problems with ice cream in bed like any other issue you were facing. But what were you supposed to do when you had cut the one who understood you the most so bluntly from your life? Who were you supposed to turn to when you wanted to talk about that?

Your cries pierced into his heart deeper with every second that passed, feeling the hurt in your voice in the deepest parts of his soul. He replied by holding you tighter, and you could feel all those things he left unsaid that day you left in the warmth of his chest.

“We don’t have to rush,” He whispered into your hair, “I have all the time in the world for you. Let it out.”

He brought a hand up from your shoulders hesitantly, feeling almost undeserving of comforting you after the pain he had caused you. But to you, his hand stroking your hair was where you found your solace.

So, there you stood, in each other’s arms having poured out your hearts to one another without having said a single word. But you both knew that you felt every single one.

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sungie · 3 years

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𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮: 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: literally nothing in this is canon but adkfl;djkfl; anyway thank you for reading!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: it’s a comfort piece with fluff but it does deal heavily with topics of family trauma/depression/sadness

- -

“Suga,” you try, hesitantly, reaching for the sleeve of his jacket, “do you have a moment?”

The grin on Suga’s face falters for a split second, and if you let yourself get swept into his bravado, you can almost pretend like you don’t see it. Like you don’t see the way he’s trying so hard to keep this wild glimmer in his eyes, and loud laughter spewing from his mouth, and for a moment, you think you’ve caught him mid-glitch.

His laughter lines pause, eyes widening slightly, then drooping, as if you’ve caught him doing something bad. But he recovers, admirably, so, and his face gentles. “Yeah, of course I do. One second.”

You let his sleeve drop from your hands, and you watch as Suga bounds toward the door, calling out to the volleyball team lingering by the exit. “I’ll catch you guys later, don’t wait up.”

He’s met with a chorus of disappointed awws, whines from Hinata, and promises from Daichi that they won’t save him any meat buns, but Suga laughs them off, making sure to leave them with an everlasting grin and smiling eyes.

“You’ve got to buy me a meat bun,” Suga teases, turning back to you. “Compensation for my time.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest. “You’re so full of it.” And then, because he sticks his tongue out at you, “fine. I guess I’d buy you some.”

“How many?

“A half.”

Suga looks at you dryly.

“Five.”

At this he smiles satisfactorily, clearly amused. “So what’d you need?”

It’s hard for the words to leave your mouth, and for a moment, the silence that stretches between the two of you is sticky and awkward, something that perhaps shouldn’t be said. An amber mold preserving an old arachnid, one encased in circumstance to be played out in time. And you’re shattering it.

“I know, Suga.” It’s out, and you sigh, squeezing your hands together behind your back. “I know what you’re doing.”

Suga’s grin is so large. “What do you mean? You’re not talking about those minutes I was late to practice, were you?” He laughs, scrunching up his face. “I promise I’ll do some extra laps, just for you. You can watch me the whole time.”

“Suga.”

And for once, his laugh is almost hostile. And he can’t stop. You can hear Oikawa in the back of your mind, murmuring Mr. Positive, Mr. Refreshing, over and over. Like a chant. A warning.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m laughing. Look, (Y/N), I’ve got stuff to do.” He says, sheepishly, rubbing a spot at the back of his neck. “Why don’t we put this conversation on hold and get food with the team? I’ll pay?” He grins. “Well, for mine … and maybe yours.”

You and Suga share a look, and he winces. You’re willing to bet he’s reliving the exact moment two weeks ago when he told you the same exact thing, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’m thinking no laps for two meat buns?” Suga tries, hoping for a smile from you.

“On hold, Koushi? Or never?”

“Fuck,” Suga mutters under his breath. “Come on, (Y/N), not now --”

“Hey,” you say, softly, “I’m not bringing this up because I want to hold it over you, or anything. I’m just worried. Really worried.”

Suga softens. He holds his lip between his teeth, then tilts his head slightly to the side, trying to read you. He must see no animosity there, no ulterior motives, because he slowly reaches out to brush his thumb against your cheek, hesitating as his eyes hold something you haven’t quite seen before so openly. “I know. And it means a lot that you do, really. But there’s nothing going on.” He gulps, smiling shyly, like an afterthought. “I’m fine.”

And just as he’s about to leave, already turned and hand reaching for the door knob, your words make him freeze.

“My parents don’t put me first, either.”

Suga freezes so rigidly that you nearly feel the air twinge with ice. “What?” Suga’s voice, it’s so tight. Almost as if you could break his vocal chords with a light exhale.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you whisper, looking at his back, “but I thought it would help. If you knew. I’ll let you go, now.”

“How’d you know?” Suga whispers.

A strangled sort of sound escapes your lips. “Huh?”

“How’d you know?” He repeats.

“There’s only one reason people act like you, Koushi.”

“What’s that?”

“Pain.”

“Ah,” Suga whispers, unable, or unwilling, to turn around. “I see.”

Carefully, you step forward, lightly wrapping your arms around his waist. You can feel how tense his back is, and you gently squeeze his torso, hoping that some gesture can help ease the walls he’s putting up day by day.

“I guess you were watching that time, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“And you read between the lines.”

You weigh the options between saying anything, and then decide to just go for it. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

You gently rest your head against his back. “Sorry.”

“It’s funny, you know,” Suga says, almost bitterly, but more resigned, “that you’re the only one who noticed.” He sighs, reaching out with one hand to lean against the doorframe. “They’ve lived with me my entire life, and they think I’m perfectly fine. Everyone does.”

“It’s fucked up.”

Suga breathes out, and you can picture his exhausted laugh, despite everything. “Yeah.”

“What is it for you?” You try, your hands gentle against him. His inhale feels shaky against your arms, and you mindlessly press your lips to the back of his jacket.

“My brother,” he relents. “there’s only really room for one of us to be loved. And my parents, well, they never understood emotions much. Maybe they just weren’t ready for parenting. Or something.” He sighs. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it’s him. But I just …”

“Wanted to come first for once,” you murmur. “You wanted to be seen.”

Suga sags, letting out a tired breath. “Exactly.”

“How bad is it?”

Suga laughs quietly. “I’m okay, really --”

“Koushi.”

“It hurts,” Suga murmurs, gently taking one of your hands around his waist and guiding it to his chest. “Sometimes it hurts so bad, here. Like a hole. But sometimes, I don’t know, it just ...” he falters off, searching for words. “Feels numb? I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

“Makes sense, Koushi. Maybe almost like there’s nothing there, too. Just … drifting.”

Suga’s chest heaves, like he’s suppressing an amused laugh. “Yeah. It’s like you know exactly what I’m …” He freezes. “Oh, shit.”

Slowly, very slowly, Suga turns in your grasp, reaching to gently cup your cheeks in his palms. “Why didn’t you stop me … I didn’t think about you.”

Your eyes widen. “No, don’t you dare.”

Suga stops, confused. “What?”

“You’re doing it again. Putting people first.”

Suga frowns, then brushes his thumb against your cheek, his touch lingering on your skin longer than it’s ever been. “So are you.”

You falter, words dying from your lips.

“Oh,” Suga whispers, allowing a teasing lilt to enter his voice, “are we going to kiss, now?”

You whack him in the chest, and he laughs, shaking his head. “Kidding, kidding. But I’m serious, (Y/N). You do the same exact things I do.”

“No,” you mutter, stubbornly. “I’m your co-manager, and it’s my role to help you all out when I think something’s wrong --”

“No,” Suga whispers, “you knew because that’s your life, too.”

“But it’s your turn,” you protest.

“I was told it’s nice to take turns,” Suga smiles at you, gently. “Were you not?”

You laugh, attempting to turn from his gaze. He’s looking at you so tenderly, and with so much care, too. It’s strange.

But Suga gently holds you in place. “I won’t force you to share things with me, (Y/N). I’ll come to you if I need help, but I want you to come to me, too.”

“You’re going to have to swear on that.”

Suga throws his head back and laughs, and this time it’s real. When he turns back to look at you, the rosy glow in his cheeks flushes his face and adds light to his eyes. “I can’t ever fool you, can I?”

“I’m your Achilles Heel.”

Suga smirks. “In more ways than one.”

“Are you still flirting, Koushi?” You try to stifle a grin. “You do know I’m --”

“Not ready for a relationship. Yeah … I know.” Suga looks at you fondly. “I know. Don’t worry.”

The smile fades from your lips. “Then why?”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“It won’t work.”

“Maybe. But are you saying that because you don’t want a relationship with me, or because you’re scared of letting people in?”

Your eyes widen, and you impulsively take a step back from Suga. “I, um, I just think we’re too similar.”

“Maybe. But we won’t know unless we try.” He gently leans down to press his lips to your temple. “So for now, I’ll wait for you. Until you’re ready, or until you grow tired of me. Either works.”

“Grow tired of you? I wouldn’t ever. I don’t know why you’d say that.”

“Just in case. I don’t want you to feel pressured. And,” he murmurs, his eyes taking on a far-off look, “I wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for needing to take space. You know.”

“I wouldn’t ghost you.”

Suga laughs. “Cute. I’m sure you say that to all the people in your DMs.”

“They’re just really good friends. That I sometimes don’t talk to for a while.”

“Yes.” Suga nods in faux understanding, “I’m sure that’s the case.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” you hiss.

Suga just gazes at you softly. “Thank you.”

“Huh? For what?”

“For today.” Suga lets the corner of his lips tug up. “For understanding. And for letting me vent.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks but shake your head, walking for the door. “Buy me meat buns at Ukai’s.”

“No,” Suga teases. “You said you’d buy me five.”

“I wasn’t serious!”

“Neither was I,” Suga teases, poking you in the ribs. “Come on, I’ve got you.” And as he reaches for your hand, he smiles at you. “I always do.”

#sugawara #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koshi imagines #sugawara koushi imagines #sugawara koushi x you #sugawara koshi x you #suga haikyuu #sugawara koushi #sugawara koshi #suga x reader #suga imagines

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smartbutuncertified · 3 years

Text

The more time I spend in men’s communities, the less funny jokes with men getting therapy as a punchline are. This is because not only is it belittling an active danger to men’s health, it’s also arguably a risk factor in and of itself. That may sound outlandish to you, especially if you’re not a man.

I’m fat. I have been fat shamed, and I have listened to other fat people talk about being fat shamed and how it makes them feel. As a man that talks openly about mental health in men’s spaces, I have had other men come up to me and tell me about their experiences with needing mental health care, and being put down for it- because I spoke first, and so they’re less afraid that I’ll recreate those experiences.

Those two groups of people have confessed to me almost identical experiences. Shame. Fear to express themselves. Loss of trust in the people that shamed them. Self consciousness, to the point of damaging their self esteem. Reduction in desire to socialize. A terrible, terrible fear that there is something fundamentally broken in them, something fundamentally wrong that stains them as people. If you’ve dealt with mental health issues, you may recognize these things as things that range from barriers to improving your mental health, to things that actively threaten it all by themselves.

I want to be absolutely clear here that this post is not saying that people who aren’t men have to take on our emotional labor. I want to be clear that I am not saying that people who aren’t men need to be the ones to fix our mental health issues. I want to be clear that I am not saying that people who aren’t men are solely responsible.

Many of these jokes come from other men. Policing each other over what is and isn’t manly is a huge part of toxic masculinity, and that includes saying other men are lesser for any kind of fear. In this case, that’s the fear of vulnerability that comes from a society that persistently tells us to “man up” and to be “real men”. The suicide attempt rate for trans men is the highest in the community, at about 50%. I don’t believe that’s unrelated to the idea that real men suffer in silence, and not only because I’m part of that statistic.

The problem of men’s mental health will never be fixed through shame.

I’ve stated the problem, and I’ve stated what I’m not asking. Here’s what I am.

Whether you’re a man or not, please stop using men’s mental health as a joke. You’re not obliged to help men, but belittling us helps nobody and hurts us. If you’re concerned that a man you care about has issues, I recommend the phrase “I think a professional could help you with that, but I can’t.”, or something similar. It sets a boundary while not shaming him for his problems, and is helpful.

If you’re a man, please talk to the other men around you about your struggles, especially with mental health. There are so many times where I’ve been the one to start the conversation. Do it with respect for the other man’s boundaries, such as asking if he’s up to listen to you vent, and next time he has a problem, he’s more likely to come to you. If he has problems that are persistently hurting him, and they haven’t been getting better, see if you can encourage him to speak to a doctor. It’s hard sometimes to know where to start with therapy, but I found my therapist through my college, and my previous ones were referrals through family doctors. Seeking help like this is often nerve wracking and exhausting, so I encourage you to support your friend personally in the search. If you’re a queer man, there are often resources specifically for queer-friendly therapy, and I encourage you to use them. You deserve health and happiness, and so do your friends who are men. If you’re a man who’s struggling and you don’t have other supports to talk to, my DMs are always open. If you’re open to talking to a professional, I’ll gladly help you research care options and help you make a plan for finding care.

Reblogs and additions are encouraged, especially from men whose mental health issues are compounded by the stress of being a minority and/or in poverty, and from people that aren’t men or aren’t only men that experience this issue presently or have in the past. Cruel, dismissive, or derailing additions will result in blocks.

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amateur-author597 · 3 years

Text

Dear Trauma,

I wake up, I’m always laying in a puddle of sweat. I can’t help but try to fight exhaustion after getting my breath under control and my heart stops pounding but it claws at the edges of my consciousness, I have nightmares when I get back into bed. How do I sleep with these thoughts racing through my head, I could drug myself to sleep and still be exhausted when I wake.

It's like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head and I can't get them to leave me alone.

I just want them to leave me alone.

Alone.

I just want to be alone.

I don’t want to feel alone.

People try to tell me they understand and they’ll always be here for me but they always lie! They want to understand and they want to help. They don’t want to understand! They don’t want to help! It’s too hard! It’s hard to sit there maybe for hours if you’re needed and it’s hard to listen and it’s hard to give advice so they don’t try.

They don’t know what it feels like to have this storm inside my mind and this condescending weight slowly crushing more and more as I try to fight. They don’t know that feeling but they have their own feelings.

Everyone wants to vent, everyone wants to scream their feelings out to the world, everybody wants someone to listen to all their worries but nobody wants to get their goddamn head out of their ass to listen to anyone else!

Anxiety isn't an item you can return at the store!

Depression isn’t an American cousin who goes home after Christmas!

PTSD isn’t a song you can delete from your phone when you tire of its repetitive rhythm!

And I’m stuck with them because of YOU!

IT’S YOUR FAULT!

YOU DID THIS TO ME!

You aren’t something I can pretend doesn’t exist!

These memories aren’t something that just goes away. Time passes and they begin to fade a little but I can’t ignore that they happened. I don’t always remember all of the exact words or sound of the peoples’ voices as they said them, but I remember the feeling that would build up in my chest and fog up my mind every time they entered the room and the feeling of drowning after they would try and talk to me. A single world and I was 6 feet underwater in the middle of an endless ocean of despair

I can barely remember my childhood but that isn’t too abnormal. I LOST AN ENTIRE YEAR OF MY LIFE! TWO ACTUALLY! FOR THREE DAMN MONTHS OF PAIN I LOST TWO WHOLE YEARS OF MY LIFE FROM MY MEMORY!

I was 18 when I pulled a gun out

At the time it felt like my options had run out

So I put that barrel to my chest, and I pulled the trigger halfway

I tried to muster up the courage to put myself away that day

How many times have I wondered about doing that to myself? I was 10 the first time I thought about killing myself, it was then I started being afraid of my own mind. How could something that had once been so pure and so innocent and full of wonder at the world around, a mind in the clouds and oh so joyful turn to something so dark and evil

Some days it's so hard to bring myself to eat although I know I need to. I can’t bring myself to feel any appetite no matter how loud or often my stomach will begin to growl. My head pounds with little to no relief and it feels like a heavy burden to get up every morning. Heavier than it should be. It’s not that I’m tired from a lack of sleep it just feels so exhausting to face the world outside of my bed.

Whenever I leave my house I find myself counting down until I can return home, I hate the way I can feel so isolated in a crowd but so overwhelmed by even the smallest number of people yet I hate even more how I can simultaneously feel so comforted by the loneliness of my own home.

I have friends and I have family and I won't try and deny that they care about me and want me to be happy but I can't bring myself to ask for help. I have to help them fight the fires in themselves but if I drop a single match and I let the fire out I’m scared no one could put me out.

I haven't been beaten, I haven't been raped, I don't get told every day that the world would be better off if I just ended my life, and I haven’t spent my life drowning in drugs and alcohol from the people around me. I’ve always had a home and my parents always tried to make time for me. I’ve been told time and time again that I have no right to complain about my life. Other people always have it worse so anything I’ve been through can’t be that bad.

Maybe that’s true

Maybe I have a good life. But you can only take so much of the people who are supposed to love and care about you hurting you. Over and over again.

At a certain point in your life everyone finds out if they can do one of two things, they find out how they cope with pain in the people around them. Sure it hurts to see the people you love in pain but only some people can react like an empath. Only some people can see through other people's pain and mirror it irrelevant of how much they do or don’t care about the person.

I was 12 the first time I understood how someone can mirror another person’s pain. I was 12 when I discovered I was one of those “gifted” people. God, how I wish that hadn’t been true.

There is only so much you watch a person being torn apart every day on repeat by someone who was supposed to have loved them. There’s only so many times you can hear senseless screaming at someone who doesn't deserve it.

I spent three months crying myself to sleep to the sound of screaming and hiding in myself too scared of the person on the other side of the door. My parents always taught me to stand up for people who are being hurt even if they are capable of protecting themselves but every time I tried I found myself quivering and my breath would halt like I was a tiny animal stuck in the headlights of a large truck, that’s what it felt like. Pathetic. Weak. Worthless.

How many times have I sat there with the same song on repeat for days on end hiding in the corner of my room wondering ‘maybe I’m better off dead? If I was, would it finally be enough to shut out all those voices in my head? Maybe I’m better off dead’.

I tried so hard to fix things; dad couldn't always be home and mum was being killed slowly by someone who was supposed to care. She spent almost every hour at work and you made me become both parents while I failed to keep myself going. My heart was beating and I was still breathing but I wasn’t alive.

You have become an almost normal thing in people’s lives when that should never have to be the case.

Do you enjoy the way you hurt people?

Does it hurt you too?

Why do you hurt us so?

Sincerely me,

“Honey” my mother’s voice breaks me out of my haze of thoughts. I lock eyes with her for a moment until she breaks to contact to flick down to the paper in hand.

“Is that what you wanted to show us?” My dad asks. When I don’t answer he rolls his eyes irritably and reaches to grab the letter only for me to yank it away from his grasp. “Look what did you want? We’re busy so you have to make this quick”, he grunts in annoyance at my actions while my mum gently puts her hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“What did you want to tell us?”

I take a deep breath trying to stop my racing heart and calm my nerves to get the words out, that’s the whole reason I wrote this bloody letter. Everything I was never brave enough to say on a single fragile piece of paper. A single piece of paper already stained in the corner by coffee with some of the ink already smudged by tear stains (left behind at 3 am when I had written it after fighting concentration for hours all for 1200 bloody words). All I had to do was hand it over. One simple little thing.

My fingers itch to hand it over but I can’t.

Something holds me back.

My mother slowly tries to reach for my hand or really the paper in my grasp calmly asking again “What did you want to tell us?”

I pull back suddenly, making her frown and bring the sheet to my chest.

I can’t do this.

“Nothing”.

That’s all I say.

That’s all there is to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So....here it is @the-arson-author-gamer

My last Creative writing task for Advanced English

#So yeah this is why my teachers are concerned #creative writing #Depression #Angst #Anxiety #Ptsd #trauma #mentalheathawareness #mental disorder #trauma dump #trauma recovery

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sabababa · 3 years

Text

What He Deserves

Shota Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) finds Aizawa sitting alone in the dark in his classroom. He’s drunk and tells her how he caught his fiancee cheating on him. Since she’s in love with him, she stays by his side while he vents out his feelings. Including how he loves her.

Warnings: Alcohol (Aizawa drinking), Angst (Fluff ending), Vomit, Mentions of cheating

Word Count: 2.7k+

Part One of ???

Author’s Note: I might do more parts to this, so if you’re interested I can put you in the taglist. I’m definitely doing a second part though.

(Y/n) looked everywhere for her binder. So much so that the classroom was her last option. It had to be there. The binder held all her necessary paperwork for class 1-A. She was TA to Eraserhead, and no way could she mess up losing documents for his class. She trudged down the hallway to the familiar room. The moon was the only thing illuminating her path as she came up to the door. She slid it open without hesitation, and her eyes immediately went to glance atop the desk to see if the binder was in view. Instead, she found the underground hero hunched over the surface with a bottle of alcohol.

Her breath caught in her throat as he lazily rose his head to look at her, the sound must have stirred him. She couldn’t see him very well due to the darkness and her shadow casting over him, but the tension in the room felt tight, she gathered that he was upset about something, which was a rare thing to see. Taking a couple of steps inside the room, she called out to him.

“Shota?” She said, concerned as her brows knitted together. Seeing him look so defeated made her heart ache. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and take the pain away. His response was to look back at the desk and slump over it again. Since he didn’t object to her presence, she walked over to his form and slowly knelt next to the chair he sat in. She gently placed her hand on his forearm to grab his attention since she didn’t know how intoxicated he was. “Shota?” She spoke again, softer this time.

He turned his head again. Now that she was crouched beneath him and the moonlight filtered in to cast a glow upon his pale face; she saw how awful he looked- more than usual. Tears had stained his cheeks, and his face was tinted red from the liquor in his system. His eyes seemed especially hollow as he gazed at her. There was no glare, no annoyance, and no fight. Aizawa looked so defeated as he stared down at her. Another tear silently slid down his face. He took no action to wipe it away or even to let out a sob. He looked too weak to try.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but I’ll stay here with you if you want so that you won’t be alone,” (Y/n) spoke once more in a whisper and gave a reassuring squeeze to his arm.

“I-I don’t wanna be alone,” he croaked out, probably from finally using his voice for however long he was silent. She gave him a small smile and stood up to walk around him to the extra chair that was just for her while he taught the class. She rolled it closer to him and rubbed his upper arm in comfort, mostly out of awkwardness. (Y/n) didn’t know if he would speak about his problems or if he would just sit there.

Aizawa turned his head to her again and then glanced down at the contact. He didn’t look angry, but (Y/n) still removed her hand, unsure how a drunk Aizawa would react to physical touch. She thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he turned back to the drink in his hand. He took a shot and sighed once it left his lips. The bottle was close to being empty and (Y/n) hoped he didn’t drink the entire thing by himself in here, although, judging from the smell of him, that might have been the case. He took another look at her, and for a moment, they just locked eyes.

Due to the experience of his having quirk, he didn’t blink the entire time, which was unnerving for once to (Y/n). Finally, he looked away and tilted the bottle in his hand to stare at the remaining liquid. It swirled around as he rotated it lightly. After a moment of staring, he gulped down the last of it, and the glass bottle let out a ‘clink’ as he let it fall over and roll to the side. Now, with nothing, he rested his head in both his hands, digging his fingers into his scalp as he leaned forward more. (Y/n) took the moment to rub her hand across his back, and she felt his muscles relax from her touch, which warmed her heart to know she could bring some ease to him.

“She cheated on me,” Aizawa spoke suddenly, still in the same position, unmoving. (Y/n) wanted to ask him to explain more, but thought it best to keep quiet until he made some kind of move for her to speak. “My fiancee.” He continued. That’s right. He had a fiancee. She remembered now even though she wanted to forget.

“I have a fiancee,” he spoke bluntly as he tapped the papers against his desk to straighten them. (Y/n) stood back in shock. Her heart felt heavy in her chest at hearing those words. Somebody already took the man she loved, and there was nothing she could do. Aizawa noticed her expression and quirked a brow up. “What?”

“I-I-” She stuttered for a moment before letting out a light laugh to ease the tension. “I didn’t expect you to have a partner, let alone a fiancee!” She laughed some more to appear jovial at his news. “How long have you two been together?”

“About three years, we’ve only been engaged for one though, we weren’t able to put official plans into the wedding yet, stuff kept popping up for her and stalling the marriage,” He sounded disappointed. “But, we’ve finally made plans this spring.” He stood up and tucked the papers into his briefcase. Then he turned to her with his usual stoic expression. “And I’m inviting all my friends, which includes you. I know there’s supposed to be a card you have to sign to RSVP, but you’re one of the closest I have, and I wanted to tell you in person.”

That was only a few months ago now, and spring was starting to approach. His fiancee cheated on him right when their wedding was so close. (Y/n) felt her blood boil as she heard the news. That fiancee of his was supposed to make him happy, that’s why she stood to the side all this time because she thought this other woman would keep him happy, but instead, she broke his heart. Her hands turned into fists in her lap as she thought about the disgusting woman who didn’t deserve to be Aizawa’s fiancee. She had never met her and was glad of it. It would have only made things harder for her to see her in the flesh. It would have solidified that Aizawa would never be hers, but now? Now she wanted nothing more than to meet the woman that broke her love’s heart, just to give her a piece of her mind.

“I came home early from patrol,” he spoke again, “they got another hero to swap with me, and so I went straight home to see her. I open the door and see clothes and shoes a-and underwear a-a-and-” he took a sharp intake of breath before he continued. “And they were hers, but t-those weren’t mine, and I follow them to our bedroom and- and-” he hiccuped before steadying himself again. “And she was in bed- asleep- snuggling with some other guy a-and, I just LEFT!” He yelled at the end and gripped his hair tighter. His body grew tense, and his hair rose like when he used his quirk, but as quickly as it happened, it disappeared. He leaned back into the chair with an exhausted sigh. His body relaxed, and he let go of his hair as his hands fell into his lap. “I deserve it.” He finished.

(Y/n)’s eyes flew up to him in shock. She had kept her head down as she listened, but it jerked up upon hearing him finish. The anger washed away and instead was replaced with sadness. “No! You don’t!” She said as she reached out to him, swiveling his chair to face her. “You don’t deserve that! Why would you say that?” She said with a broken heart as her hands came out to wipe away his tears.

“Because I’ve been distant,” he said as he watched her clean his face. “She noticed, so she took care of her own needs.”

“That doesn’t give her any right to cheat.” (Y/n) held his head in her hands to make him focus on her. She secretly relished the feeling of his stubble against her smooth skin. “A real person would have talked it out, not go behind your back.”

“I think she already knew what the answer was and didn’t want to hear it,”

“And that is?”

Aizawa had turned his gaze from her long ago, but now he looked her in the eyes as he spoke. “I fell in love with someone else.”

(Y/n) froze at hearing his confession. Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again as her hands dropped from his face. “O-oh?” She didn’t know what to say. Even if she wasn’t in love with the guy, what could she say?

Aizawa stared at her as she stared back at him, waiting for a response. Finally, he made a move. He quickly captured her face in his hands and planted a deep kiss against her lips. She let out a surprised hum when she felt his warm lips against hers. Her lips never moved against his; it felt wrong. He was drunk, he was in pain, he probably didn’t even know what he was doing.

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

“Please kiss me,” he sobbed against her lips out of fear. His tears came back as he desperately pressed his lips to her’s again. She couldn’t resist a plea like that, so she did as he asked. Her lips molded against his, and she felt a tingle go down her spine. He hummed happily against her and dipped her head back to deepen the kiss, but as soon as it happened, he reeled back with his hand over his mouth. He quickly turned his chair around and grabbed the small trash can by his desk, emptying the contents of his stomach into it. (Y/n) sat there for a moment in a daze before she collected her thoughts and gave his back a soothing rub. “Sorry…” He groaned into the can.

She couldn’t tell if he apologized for kissing her or for throwing up in the middle of it. “It’s fine.” She answered before standing up and putting her hands under his shoulders to push him up. “You need to get some rest,” she grabbed the can from him and placed it back where it was. “Do you have anywhere else to stay?” (Y/n) grabbed the tissues on his desk and cleaned up his face. He just watched her dab and rub the soft paper against his lips and chin, his mouth slightly open from her gentle touches.

He nodded his head weakly. “I’ll stay in the lounge. I’ve got my sleeping bag there already,”

“Okay, well-” She pulled him up from the chair, and he stumbled forward, but she caught him and let him rest his weight against her, “you should go to the bathroom first and clean up.”

“Didn’t you just clean me?” He asked as she moved his arm over her shoulders and began to walk out of the room.

“Yes, but you still need to wash your mouth out and pee,” She teased, feeling like she was taking care of a child, and brought him to the men’s bathroom. “Can you stand on your own?” Even though she knew nobody was inside, it still felt taboo for her to enter. Aizawa merely nodded his head and stumbled inside, using the wall as leverage. As he did his business, (Y/n) walked down to one of the vending machines in the hallway, it was turned off, but all she had to do was plug it in. She pressed a sequence of buttons, and it dispensed a bottle of water for her.

Walking back over, she saw Aizawa exit the bathroom, and he had an uncomfortable look on his face. She quirked her brow in response to his expression. “I threw up again,” he mumbled.

She giggled once she finally reached his side. She found it funny how child-like he was being. “Did you do it in a toilet at least?”

He nodded once. “Yeah,”

(Y/n) hummed happily, glad to see that he wasn’t upset like before. She handed him the water bottle, and he took it from her. “You should try and sober up a bit before you sleep.”

He nodded again and took big gulps of water, only leaving half of it full. (Y/n) gingerly wrapped her hands around his arm and guided him to the teacher’s lounge. When they arrived, he immediately made his way to his desk and pulled out the sleeping bag from a drawer. He rolled it out onto the couch in the room and put his legs into it. He finished the rest of the water bottle before swaddling himself in the rest of the yellow fabric.

A content sigh fell from his lips as he zipped himself up, glad to be in a comfortable area. (Y/n) giggled as she watched him and made her way over to Midnight’s desk. “What’re you doing?” She heard Aizawa ask as she rummaged through different drawers before finally finding the medicine he needed.

“Getting you a pill for when you wake up in the morning,” she answered and walked over to the mini-fridge in the room. She grabbed a small water bottle and then a napkin on the table next to it that held food for whenever someone brought any treats in. “I don’t want you having a bad hangover in front of the students,” (Y/n) placed the items on a small table next to the couch, setting the bottle and pill on the napkin.

“How are you so nice?” He asked.

“Hm?” She hummed, her indication for him to explain more, as she crouched to his level.

“You’re always so nice,” he stated, “it’s hard to be nice, but for you, it’s like it comes naturally.”

“Guess I have a lot of practice,” she moved some of his hair back into the bag so it wouldn’t fall in his face. When she looked into his eyes, they were filled with adoration and wonder. “What?” She giggled at his expression.

He blinked a few times, realizing he was staring, and then brought his scarf up to cover his face, but his eyes still showed. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

(Y/n) only smiled at how expressive Aizawa was being, it was a new experience for her, and she enjoyed it. “Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” She asked quietly, noticing how his eyes were getting droopy.

“Mhm,” he hummed and closed his eyes. He fell asleep quickly, and (Y/n) took it upon herself to clean up the classroom before leaving. She didn’t want anyone to see that he got drunk in school. She put the glass bottle into the soiled trash bag, tied it up, and took it to the janitor’s closet, where she threw it into a big trash bin. Then, she grabbed one of the smaller trash bags and headed back to the classroom to place it in the bin. She pushed the chairs into their proper positions, and it brought the memory of the kiss back to her. Goosebumps trailed across her skin from the thought. Her crush kissed her; even though he was drunk and hurting, it still felt nice to feel his lips.

(Y/n) took a deep breath and collected her thoughts before returning to check on Aizawa. He was still asleep, his mouth open slightly to let out quiet breaths. She gazed at the man that had stolen her heart, and because he had it, she couldn’t bear to leave him. The school was big, dark, and eerily quiet. She hated the thought of leaving him here alone all night. So she went to the end of the couch where his feet were and folded her arms to lay against them on the cushion while her body sat on the floor. As she stared at him again before closing her eyes, she hoped he wouldn’t kick in his sleep.

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Masterlist

#shota aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #female reader #aizawa oneshot #shouta x reader

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