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dunkzillla · 2 years ago

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A Place to Call Home (3/4)

It’s finally here! This mammoth of a chapter took a couple of weeks because it’s a. mammoth sized and b. I’ve had some personal stuff going on. but it’s here and it’s long so grab your snacks and drinks and settle in! This is dedicated to @whorehausen and @shes-a-voodoo-child because without them this wouldn’t be finished. thank you for your endless support, and well, being pretty much the only two reading this self indulgent little thing.

Title: A Place to Call Home

Pairings: Bryan Danielson/Nigel McGuinness, Bryan Danielson/William Regal, Bryan Danielson/Jon Moxley/Claudio Castagnoli/Wheeler Yuta

Ratings/Warnings: Mature, Language, Sex

Summary: “I wouldn’t stop you, prinzli. I just hope you know what you’re doing. You remember what it used to be like, yes?” “Yeah. They were the happiest years of my life.”

Word Count: 14,288

Parts: ONE | TWO

AO3

The love that I was giving you was never in doubt. — Babylon, David Gray

They don’t talk about what happened when they got back from the pub the next morning. Bryan wants to, but he can’t seem to make the words come out of his mouth. He wants to ask Nigel why he put himself into the situation of sleeping with that woman and Bryan if he wasn’t into women. He wants to know what Nigel meant when he put his hands in his beard and said he had a cute little chin. Nigel always used to make fun of his hair, or lack of it when he shaved it, saying that he looked like a British skinhead and did he want his bomber jacket and a pair of docs to complete the look?

Half the time Bryan shaved his hair just to piss Nigel off, to have him keep picking fun at him because at least it kept his attention on him whenever it threatened to wander elsewhere. It was ironic that in their last months together, Nigel had shaved his hair and Bryan’s was grown out. Bryan guesses it started the shift in them, Nigel losing himself as he got tangled up in injuries and illnesses in TNA, and Bryan found himself being bounced around by WWE and the independent circuit.

He’s not about to shave his head to get a rise out of Nigel, but he does wonder what it would do.

Over the next couple of days they fall into an easy routine. Bryan gets up, has coffee in the garden before starting on making Nigel breakfast. Bryan keeps wearing Nigel’s robe, and relishes in how Nigel always comes down the stairs wearing only his shorts, with messy hair and sleepy eyes, thanking Bryan for coffee and breakfast and they enjoy it together, sitting at the table and talking about things they used to do, some of the matches Bryan’s had since they’ve been apart.

Then Nigel goes away to work, and Bryan cleans up breakfast and then tries to find things to do while Nigel’s not there. He goes for runs, explores the shops, he even plants a few things in Nigel’s garden, even though he’s hoping that when it’s finally time to ask Nigel to come home, it won’t be Nigel’s garden anymore.

He cooks dinner when Nigel gets back from work, and then they sit watching old matches together, shooting on all the dumb stuff they and other people did.

On Friday afternoon Nigel comes back a few hours early, says he always does on a Friday, and he sets his laptop bag down and comes into the garden where Bryan’s organising Nigel’s disaster of a shed.

“How do you feel about going away for a few days?”

Bryan feels his heart sink a little bit. “You have someone coming over?”

Nigel looks at him confused before shaking his head, “No you bloody idiot, how do you feel about us going away for the weekend. I want to take you somewhere.”

Oh. Oh well that’s. That’s something.

“You want to take me somewhere? Where?”

“That’s a secret. You just gotta’ say you’ll come with me.”

Anywhere, Bryan wants to say. I’ll come with you anywhere. But that’s — so he doesn’t, he just smiles and says,

“You’re not going to kidnap me and murder me, are you? Get me out of your hair?”

“Course not, I’ve had more than enough chances to do that, don’t need to take you away to murder you, Dragon. How many people know you’re here?”

Bryan wipes his dusty hands on his sweats, looking up at Nigel and squinting as the afternoon sun starts to dip behind the house. “None.”

“None? You didn’t tell anyone you were coming here?”

“Well. Doug knows, because I asked him for your information. And any of the other people I asked for your information could hazard a guess if someone asked them but. I just came straight here. Regal asked me the other day but I… didn’t tell him where I was.” Bryan explains, and he does feel bad about that, because Regal might start worrying about him if he doesn’t get back to him. He just doesn’t want anyone to know where he is yet. He doesn’t need them trying to get involved. Claudio knows the complexities of his and Nigel’s relationship better than most, having spent the most of his ROH time around them, Mox has always said they’re no good for each other, and poor Yuta hasn’t ever had to deal with the level of messed up Bryan is over Nigel, and he might not understand.

“Well aren’t you just full of surprises? Come on, get inside and clean up. I wanna miss the rush hour traffic.”

Bryan shuts the shed door. “We’re going now?”

“Yeah. I have work Monday, want to make the most of the weekend. That is unless you’re going back to the States.”

“No, I haven’t made any plans to go back yet.” And he’s not going to, not until he’s convinced Nigel to come back with him.

“Then pack your bag, Dragon. And make sure you put my robe in there, yeah?”

Bryan doesn’t blush, because he’s a grown man, but he does feel his body warm at the indirect call out.

“It’s mine now. You gave it to me.”

“Yeah, cos’ you were being a bloody idiot and sitting out in the cold without anything on. I didn’t give it to you to keep.”

“Well that was your mistake wasn't it, should have just let me be cold.”

“Now why would I ever do that?” Nigel says, and he puts his arm around Bryan’s shoulder and walks him back to the house and through the kitchen.

“Because apparently we’re not friends and you don’t like me?” Bryan deadpans.

Nigel stiffens a little bit beside him, and Bryan seizes the opportunity to wrap his hand in the tie around Nigel’s neck, pulling them closer together.

“I’ve changed my mind, I am going to murder you and dispose of the body where nobody will ever find you.” Nigel says, but his voice has dropped quieter, and he’s looking down at Bryan, looking at his mouth as she swipes a tongue over his lips.

“You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t even leave me knocked out in the ring, you got back in and made sure I didn’t freak out. You took me to the hospital and waited with me. You could try and kill me and leave my body somewhere, but you’d come back and get me, you’d revive me.” And Bryan says it like it’s an accusation and a fact all at once.

Something passes over Nigel’s face, and he clenches and unclenches his jaw. He could easily step away, he could easily get out of the hold Bryan has on his tie, but he doesn’t.

“Admit it.”

“Admit what, Bryan?”

“That we’re friends. That we’re more than friends, and we always have been. Admit that we’ve always been something more.”

Nigel’s hands come up, they turn up the collar of his white shirt, and then they tug the loop of the tie over his head, leaving it still tied in Bryan’s hands.

“Hurry up, I want to beat the traffic.” Is all he says before he’s turning and taking the stairs two steps at a time.

Bryan watches him go, and for a moment he just holds the tie in his hands and watches the empty staircase. Nigel’s always been good at pulling away at the last minute, at building and building the tension until he would just leave you high and dry at the last moment. It’s okay, Bryan can deal with that, he’s had fourteen years of not having it, of building his Nigel-centric patience back up. So he’ll deal with it for now, he’ll slowly work him down, just like he used to in the ring. He can out wrestle Nigel and he can also out whit him when it comes to emotions and feelings.

Bryan goes into his room, keeping the tie and stuffing it to the bottom of his bag, because if Nigel didn’t want him to have it then he shouldn’t have left it in his hands, and packs his clothes on top of it. Nigel said they were going for the weekend so he doesn’t need much, not that he has much anyway, but he also doesn’t know where they’re going, so he packs most of it so that he’s not caught out.

He can’t think of where Nigel wants to take him, why he wants to take him at all. But then Bryan doesn’t know the UK very well and Nigel’s always been unpredictable, so he shouldn’t be surprised at all.

He meets Nigel back downstairs, who’s putting his laptop away in a locked cupboard, his duffel bag sitting on the couch.

“You ready Dragon?”

“Ready,” Bryan confirms. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“Nah,” Nigel says as he picks up his bag. “You’ll know when we get there.”

Nigel ushers him out of the door and Bryan tries to think what this is all about, what any of this could mean. They’ve kind of been on road trips together before, if you count all the riding together for wrestling, and that time they got lost, but they’ve never done it for the sole purpose of just going somewhere. Nigel’s never taken him anywhere but the hospital and Waffle House.

They get in Nigel’s car, Bryan’s rental sat in the same space on the road that it was the day he got here, unused and unneeded.

It’s a quiet journey for the most part, there isn’t much traffic on the roads like Nigel was hoping for, and the sun is just starting to set, casting everything in warm yellow tones. Nigel puts the car stereo on half an hour in, playing all the same music he always used to in his beat up little car, Oasis and Blur and other British groups that Bryan doesn’t remember the name of. Some of them are familiar and Bryan’s foot taps along with them, feeling like they’re on their way to the next ROH show, getting ready to fight each other for a belt or for the right to fight for a belt.

An hour in, Bryan looks out of the window to see a sign that says, Welcome to Blackpool. And he turns his head to Nigel, who’s got a smile playing on his face like he was waiting for Bryan to see that sign and realise where they were going.

“This is where you’re taking me? To Blackpool?”

“Well, you are part of the Blackpool Combat Club, and I couldn’t remember if you’d ever wrestled here, and seeing as you know, it’s literally your club's name and it’s not far from home, I thought I’d bring you.”

Bryan has wrestled here, just once. ��James Mason, 2008. I lost.” He says remembering instantly. He hadn’t stayed for very long, Regal had hoped to be there but had been caught up with something, so Bryan had left the next day. He doesn’t remember much of it, just that it was in the ballroom at the big tower they have, and he’d been bored and lonely without Colt, Sal or Nigel around. He’d have even taken Eddie Kingston, if only for a familiar face to have been with him in a strange place.

“Really? Blimey.”

“You?”

“No, actually. Which feels weird now I know you have. You come here with Regal much?”

Bryan shakes his head. “He wanted to be here for that match, but he couldn’t make it. I don’t think I’ve ever been here outside of that.”

“What about the others?”

Bryan thinks about it. He can’t be certain, because he barely remembers all of the matches he’s had, let alone anyone else, but nothing jumps out at him. “I don’t know. I don’t think so? I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mox or Claudio mention it, and I doubt Yuta has.”

Nigel huffs out a laugh and turns down the stereo as they park up. “The Blackpool Combat Club and only one of its current members has ever wrestled in Blackpool, bloody typical.”

Bryan shrugs, he guesses it’s kind of weird, but it was an homage to the place Regal billed himself from, rather than a place special to all of them.

They’re on the seafront, and Bryan stares out the window at the view in front of him. The sea is crashing against the shore, frothy white foam reaching high up the beach before retreating. There’s lights strung up high on every single streetlight, wrapped around railings and twinkling along the pier in the distance.

“So what’s the big plan?” Bryan asks, and Nigel just grins.

“Find a place to stay. Have a look around.

Maybe we could catch a show.”

“Find a place — you mean we don’t already have a place? What if there isn’t one?” Bryan says, and he quickly gets out of the car when Nigel does too.

“It’s March in Blackpool, there’ll be somewhere. Though hopefully Regal didn’t spoil you too much while he was around, might have to slum it in a two or three star hotel.” The grin on Nigel’s face is a mile wide, like this is the funniest thing in the world. And Bryan doesn’t care what star rating the hotel has, he just cares that there is a hotel to stay in. They might not be far from Nigel’s place in the grand scheme of things, but Nigel is clearly up to something.

“You’re infuriating, Nigel.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Yeah, here he is indeed.

He follows Nigel up onto the sidewalk, the two of them walking side by side along the long strip. There aren’t too many people around, but it has dropped dark now, and the lights make everything look pretty and festive.

It’s pretty cold, and Bryan wishes he’d maybe brought a hat or something to keep his head warm. Nigel doesn’t seem bothered, which is weird, because normally it’s the other way around, with Nigel always cold and Bryan barely feeling it. It’s why he has his robe, after all.

They walk for a while before Nigel nudges him to cross the road, towards a little bed and breakfast place that has a wooden sign in the window that says Vacancies.

He follows him inside, instantly feeling the warmth of the place hit him in the face when he steps through the door. It smells like wood and furniture polish, and home cooked food that makes Bryan a little bit hungry. It’s a nice enough place, a little old fashioned, more to Regal’s taste than Bryan’s but it will do on short notice. Nigel goes up to the front desk and Bryan hangs around by the staircase. There’s picture frames lining the walls, all of them with a picture and a description of the picture underneath inside. They’re little pieces of history, and Bryan reads through them, trying to file them all away so that he can tell Regal about them later and watch his face light up as he does so. Regal hasn’t had much to be happy about lately.

“Anything interesting?” Nigel comes up behind him, a room key in his hand. And it’s an actual key, with a piece of string and a big thick piece of card tied on to it, the number written in scruffy black marker pen.

“Blackpool has the oldest amusement park ride in all of Europe.” Bryan recites, pointing at the picture of an old ride in black and white on the wall. It’s just a tall structure with spaceships on the end of wires, so when it spins, they fly.

“If I’d have known that I wouldn’t have gone on it.”

“Maybe you should do some reading up on the places you visit before you visit them.” Bryan jabs, and Nigel just rolls his eyes at him, pushing him towards the stairs.

Their room is on the top floor, and it’s a bit of a work out to get to it, the stairs are steep and twisting, but he guesses that’s normal for a place that is as old as this looks.

The first thing that strikes Bryan when Nigel opens the door is that the bed has hideous frilly, floral bed covers on and looks like his grandma picked them out in 1934. Then belatedly, as he’s about to say how hideous the covers are, he realises that it’s, that there’s only one bed.

“Before you say anything, this is all they had. And I didn’t think you’d appreciate leaving and finding anything else.” Nigel says before Bryan can say anything, dumping his bag on the bed and immediately going over to the window to look out at the view.

Bryan thinks about asking why they wouldn’t just look for something else, he wouldn’t have minded, but he doesn’t, because Nigel made this decision and he’s not about to argue about sharing a bed with him.

“Not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” Bryan says, putting his bag next to Nigel’s on the bed. He finds the bathroom, and when he switches the light on he finds that everything — the toilet, the bath and shower, the sink and the tiles — is pink. An old fashioned shade of floral pink, with gold accents that have seen better days. It’s the most hideous old fashioned bathroom Bryan has ever seen, but it’s clean and he supposes that that’s the main thing.

“I feel like I’ve stepped into the 1940s.” Nigel says behind him, and he hadn’t heard him coming up behind him and he jumps a little.

“It’s old fashioned but better than some of the stuff we used to end up in back in the day. Remember when that cockroach—“

“Do not bring up the cockroach on my face. I’ve blocked it out.”

“It was literally about to crawl in your mouth—“

“Dragon I swear to god we’re not talking about it, I have blocked it out.”

Bryan grins, because he hasn’t blocked it out, not at all, the memory of Nigel waking up in a panic slapping his face over and over again as he all but screamed about something crawling on him is one Bryan won’t ever forget. Not the way Nigel sat shaking afterwards in the shitty little chair next to the window refusing to go back to bed.

“Fine, we won’t talk about that.”

“The things we used to deal with. Bet it’s paid for 5 star hotels now, ain't it Dragon?”

“I mean it’s not 5 stars, but it’s paid for. Tony takes care of everything. Though, there’s nostalgia in the shittier hotels, don’t you think?”

“For you, maybe. I never got the luxury of paid expenses. I had to work at a grocery store while at TNA.”

“What?”

“When I wasn’t getting used and when I had the Hep I wasn’t getting paid, Bryan. Think I could survive without another job?”

“No I just — I didn’t know that.”

“You were lucky. WWE found you something to do when you had to retire,” Nigel says, and he’s looking out of the window and not at Bryan as he talks. “When I found out that you were forced to retire, I kept wondering what you were going to do. Surely your success couldn’t dwindle the same way mine did? Of course, it didn’t. I remember feeling relieved and angry all at the same time.”

“Nigel…”

“I am glad you got cleared again. There’s not a lot better in the world to me than watching Bryan Danielson at the top of his game.”

“You could get cleared again. You could be at the top of your game too, Nigel.”

“We should go and find some food, you’re talking rubbish.”

“I’m serious Nigel.”

“And so am I. We’ve had this conversation already, I have no business being this old and broken and getting back in the ring.” Nigel says, and he scoops the room key back up ushers Bryan back out of the room.

“And anyway, that head doc of yours. Sampson. He’s the bloody arsehole who wouldn’t clear me back in 2009. He certainly wouldn’t clear me now.”

“He was?”

“Mhm. There was nothing wrong with me back then, I got multiple letters from my doctor that my arm was fine, didn’t need surgery, and he still wouldn’t clear me. I’m nearly fifty now, I’m not in any better shape.”

“He cleared me to come to AEW and I’d argue I’m in worse shape than you.”

“You are in worse shape than me, you bloody lunatic. I’ve had twelve years without taking kicks to the head. You’ve never really stopped, have you? I have no idea how he cleared you. Or why. But he has.”

They make it back out onto the seafront, and this time it’s much busier, with people walking in big groups around them, little kids zig zagging through their legs and screaming in delight.

“I think you probably are in better shape. You proved in TNA you didn’t need the bicep surgery. You came back from Hep B. And you’ve clearly been taking care of yourself since then, you’ve had time to heal. You’ve got more chances of being cleared than you did back then.”

The way that Nigel doesn’t respond right away with a comment to shut him down, and instead keeps his eyes looking forward with a haunted look on his face shows Bryan that slowly he’s cracking that defence Nigel’s had up about returning to wrestling ever since he retired.

“How about Italian for dinner? That place looks nice.” Nigel changes the subject and points to a restaurant on the corner of a street up ahead.

Inside it’s not particularly busy, and they get seated right at the back in their corner, so they’re graced with obscurity and privacy that they luckily didn’t have to ask for.

They eat nice food and talk about wrestling matters that don’t involve Nigel making a comeback, and when they’re both stuffed full they take a walk across the beach. Bryan can feel the sand getting into his shoes, and it’s cold, but the lights are all lit up and there’s music playing somewhere and it’s nice. It’s different and it’s nice and he’s with Nigel. That’s what really makes it.

When Bryan’s got enough sand in his shoes to start his own beach, they head over to a convenience store on the corner of the street and buy snacks just like they always used to. Nigel was always hungry back when he was wrestling, and they always had to make sure there were chips, sweets and chocolate on them at all times. Old habits die hard, Bryan guesses.

Back at the bed and breakfast they both lay out on the bed sharing a bag of chips, watching a weird British game show that Nigel gets annoyed at and shouts you bloody idiots at all the contestants who get questions wrong. It’s nice to just lay next to Nigel and not have to think about anything. Not have to think about work, or Regal and the BCC, or winning and losing titles. To listen to Nigel shouting the answer to the question at the TV screen like they’re going to be able to hear him and give the host the right answer. But it makes him want to roll over and punch him right in the face, too. Because if Nigel had just lied, if he’d not told the WWE about that bicep injury they’d have cleared him, and they’d have wrestled there together, Nigel would have been woven into his story in the most wonderful and infuriating way. They wouldn’t be here now, Nigel a car salesman and Bryan a wrestler just looking for his heart to finally come home. Bryan wouldn’t be here figuring out how to get Nigel to come home. They’d probably both be scrapping it out in the ring and on the mics in AEW and ROH, just like they always have. Like they always should have been.

When he’s ready to turn in, Bryan doesn’t bother getting his sleep pants out of his bag, he simply strips down to his boxers and folds his clothes up before slipping under the covers. Nigel tries to make it look like he’s not watching as he scrolls on his phone, but Bryan can feel his eyes on him the whole time.

Nigel stays up longer than Bryan, though he switches the TV off and scrolls on his phone without making any noise. Eventually he does the same as Bryan and strips down and gets into the bed. It’s been over a decade since they shared a bed, but Nigel still smells the same, still makes Bryan’s heart flutter like he’s twenty four and crazy for him.

Bryan gets a few hours sleep before he’s woken up by his phone blaring on the bedside table. He scrambles to find it in his bleary state, and Nigel rouses beside him, their feet tangled together as he gets the phone and answers it without even looking at the caller ID that’s so bright it feels like it would have blinded him anyway.

“Hello?” Bryan says, untangling his feet from Nigel and getting out of the bed. He goes into the bathroom so he doesn’t wake Nigel up anymore than he already has.

“Honigbienli, tell me why I have just heard the international dial tone when calling you?”

Claudio.

“Uh,” Bryan says dumbly as he sits down on the closed toilet lid, tucking his feet up so they don’t get cold on the tiles. “Because I’m… not at home.”

“Then where are you? William has been calling us telling us he can’t get hold of you. That you haven’t been at your place since the pay per view. I have texted you a dozen times. You have fallen off the face of the earth!”

Bryan winces a little bit, hearing both the anger and concern in Claudio’s voice. He should have responded to them all. It’s not like he hasn’t had the time, he’s had all the time in the world while waiting for Nigel to come back from work, but he just hasn't. He hasn’t wanted anyone to know where he is, to tell him what he’s doing is stupid. And with everything they’ve been going through, maybe he’d forgotten that they’d still be worried about him if they didn’t hear from him.

“I’m in Blackpool.”

“Blackpool?!”

“I was in Liverpool, but I just got into Blackpool a little while ago.”

“Bryan what are you — is this what you meant when you said you were ‘going home?’ Are you trying to… find yourself?”

“No, no I’m — well. Yes. It is about home, but it’s not — I’m not trying to find myself. I’m, I’m with Nigel.”

“Nigel… Oh goodness… You found him?”

Bryan scratches the top of his foot and rests his chin on his knee. “He wasn’t that hard to find once I looked in the right place.”

“Prinzli, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to get him to come home.”

There is silence at the end of the line, and Bryan almost checks to see whether Claudio has ended the call before he hears a soft sigh.

“And how is that going?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m doing alright. I’ll do what it takes, for as long as it takes.”

“You’ve been without him for so long, Bryan. I thought that was a healed wound.”

“It was never a wound. He has never been a wound. He’s been… something special that I left behind when I moved house and thought I’d never get back but I have a chance to and now I want to make sure I come home with it. That he comes home where he belongs.”

“I never thought we would be here again, talking about Nigel McGuinness.”

“Yeah, me neither. But I need this, Claudio. I don’t think I’ve really been me for a long time. To be me I need him to come home. Please let me do this.”

“I wouldn’t stop you, prinzli. I just hope you know what you’re doing. You remember what it used to be like, yes?”

“Yeah. They were the happiest years of my life.”

Claudio sighs softly, and he hears him moving around. “I would never. The American Dragon doesn’t let anything get in between him and Nigel McGuinness. I learnt that a long time ago.” He says, and Bryan wants to protest because he did. He let his own path to success leave Nigel behind. But he doesn’t. Because what’s the point? It’s all happened. He can’t change it.

“Make sure you call William, or just let him know you’re okay. Mox has threatened to change all our numbers if he calls us again.”

“I will. How are they? Mox and Yuta?”

“Good, they’re good. They were worried about you, of course. They’ll be happy to know you’re okay.”

“Good. Tell them I miss them, and that I love them.”

“I will, but you should call them too. Especially Yuta. He’s trying his hardest not to get ‘all in his feelings’ as you say, but he would like things to go back to normal.”

“I will, I will I promise I’ll get everything sorted out. I just need to do this.”

“Okay. I will let you go, it must be late there?”

“Yeah. Middle of the night or something. Nigel’s gonna’ hate that you woke him up.”

“Sharing a room?”

Bryan feels his cheeks warm, feels far too old to be blushing but he can’t stop it. “Maybe.”

“It feels like 2007 all over again. Be careful, prinzli. And good luck.”

“Thank you Claudio. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bryan.”

The line drops, and Bryan pulls the phone away from his ear again to lock it. His ear is warm and a little sweaty from holding the phone against it, and he rubs at it with the palm of his hand. He washes his hands just because he��s been in the bathroom and touched the lid of the toilet seat before he steps back into the bedroom. Nigel is wrapped up in the blankets, having pulled them all on him while Bryan was in the bathroom. He’s always been a blanket hog.

“Who the fuck was that?” Nigel mumbles sleepily when Bryan gets back into the bed, turning to face him and actually letting him have some of the blankets back. Nigel never used to let him have the blankets back.

“Claudio. He didn’t know I was here so he didn’t know it was the middle of the night.”

“Castagnoli. Should have known. Nothing but a worry wart.”

“A what?”

“A worry wart. Always worrying. You tell him you’re here?”

“Yeah. Regal called them because he hadn’t heard back from me, so I’ll have to tell him tomorrow too.”

“As long as it doesn’t put you in a mood, I don’t want to be dragging a grumpy Dragon around all day.”

“I’ll just text him. By the time we wake up they’ll be asleep anyway.”

“Mmhm.”

Nigel’s already falling back to sleep, and Bryan slides down further into the covers. He wants to reach out and touch Nigel’s cheek. To feel the age lines across his skin, to feel that scar above his eye, to run his hands through his hair that hasn’t been spiked or bleached in years. But he doesn’t. Because he doesn’t have any more nerve than he did back then. Maybe less, actually, because back then, when they were under the covers and Nigel would kiss him out of the blue before going to sleep, Bryan had the nerve to kiss back, to lean into him as they slept. He doesn’t have the nerve to touch him now. But back then he didn’t have the nerve to bring it up in the morning, to talk about why Nigel kissed him, why it never led to anything. Now he’s been confronting Nigel, trying to get him to admit to them always being more than friends. Maybe he does have the nerve, just a different kind.

Bryan watches Nigel until he falls asleep, hoping and praying that he can convince Nigel to come home soon.

Breakfast is kind of a sorry affair, at least for Bryan anyway. They don’t have any vegetarian or vegan options, beside dry toast and fruit, because there’s no dairy free milk for the cereal or dairy free butter for toast or meat free options on the English breakfast. Which. Fine. It’s whatever. He makes do with some runny jam on the now cold toast while Nigel happily scarfs down his sausages, bacon and egg.

It’s still early when they head out, and thankfully it’s a pretty nice day, not particularly warm but the sun is shining bright in the sky and it makes everything just feel so much nicer.

They make their way along the seafront, reading all of the plaques and signs which talk about the history of Blackpool and significant events. Bryan takes a couple of pictures and sends them to Regal, with a very brief explanation of I’m in Blackpool with Nigel. Call soon. Hoping that it’s enough to tide him over until Bryan can sit down and talk to him properly. The message gets read but he doesn’t get a response, so it must be.

They pay the admission fee into the amusement park, which is rather weirdly called ‘Blackpool Pleasure Beach’, like it’s some sort of weird sex beach even though it’s not actually on the beach or about sex at all. They don’t go on any of the rides, because neither of them care for roller coasters, but they find the one that is mentioned at the B&B in the frame, looking up at it and watching it as it spins, kids sitting in the little spaceships and screaming in delight. They watch the log flume soak it’s passengers, and Bryan questions the safety and structural integrity of the coaster that has a 213ft peak and looks like it’s one big gust of wind away from falling down.

They get coffee and Bryan lets himself have one of the donuts Nigel buys even though they’re covered in sugar, greasy with oil and definitely aren’t vegetarian or vegan. He lets himself go sometimes, and now is definitely the time he’s allowed.

They check out the tower after lunch, and Bryan realises it hasn’t really changed since he was here over a decade ago. It’s busier this time, a good crowd of tourists in front of them in the queue to get in, and this time he’s got Nigel with him rather than being on his own.

He feels a bit sick when they get to the top, because the glass floor shows nothing but the drop below them, and it’s a long way down and he doesn’t know if he trusts how thick the floor is to hold all of them that are standing on it. There’s a kid who keeps jumping up and down like nothing about what he’s doing scares him and Nigel pulls him as far away from the child as possible. Not that it would make any difference, but still.

It’s late afternoon by the time they come out of the tower, and they have another coffee sitting in one of the little sheltered benches watching a group of kids making sandcastles.

There’s a mom with two kids next to them, and they’re happily eating their ice creams until the little girl’s scoop drops off of her cone and onto the floor. She immediately starts crying, and the mom starts to fluster, trying to get her brother to share his cone with her, because she can’t leave them to get another one, and she can’t drag a screaming child, a child eating an ice cream and push a stroller all the way back to the ice cream shop. Bryan is about to offer to go for her, when Nigel just gets up and disappears.

When he comes back, he’s got a small tub of ice cream in one hand, and the other curled into a fist, concealing something. The mom thanks him profusely as the little girl stops crying, and she scrambles around for her purse which Nigel tells her to put away. The little girl is beaming from ear to ear, thanking him sweetly for the ice cream, and Nigel gets down on his hunches and from behind her ear, he ‘finds’ a thick coin, Bryan’s not good with British currency so he doesn’t know how much it’s worth, but her eyes light up at the magic trick. Not to leave her brother out, who’s been staring at Nigel the whole interaction, he finds a coin behind his ear, too, grinning when he gets wow! That’s so cool! From the kid with ice cream all around his mouth.

The kids demand another magic trick, so Nigel, who actually carries a deck of cards on him at all times apparently, shows them a few card tricks, entertaining them long enough for their mom to feed and change the baby, and Bryan can see how grateful she is that Nigel is performing an impromptu magic show for her children. Bryan watches with a small smile on his face, like he used to when he’d stand in the back watching Nigel wrestle. Watching Nigel is always an experience, but there’s something about watching Nigel do something he loves, watching him perform that is so beautiful. Nigel doing magic is similar to Nigel wrestling, you can see it in his face how much he loves it, you can see his brain working behind his eyes as he thinks about his next move, his next trick, what he’s going to say to pop you for what he’s just done. The kids ask for the next trick over and over again, and Nigel has so many that Bryan can’t even keep up.

The sun has started to set by the time the children’s mom finally manages to wrangle them away from Nigel, but not before he produces candy from behind their ear as they’re leaving. They squeal with delight, showing their mom the little candies in their hands as they walk away, and Nigel sits himself back down on the bench next to Bryan.

“You’ve never, ever found candy behind my ear.” Bryan says, smiling out towards the sea. The coffee in his hand is cold now, but he still holds it against his chest.

Nigel’s hand snakes out and strokes through his beard, and before Bryan can even react, he’s holding up a piece of candy, and the smile on his face is blinding.

“Not quite your ear, but impressive, yeah?”

“God, you’re so—“

“Magical?”

“Annoying.”

Nigel’s still grinning, and he doesn’t even give Bryan the piece of candy, he just tucks it back into his pocket.

“That was nice, what you did just then.” Bryan says quietly.

“I’m a nice person, Bryan.”

Bryan goes to argue immediately, and wants to say that no, Nigel isn’t a nice person. Nigel locked him in a store cupboard, knocked him out, spat on him, bit him, disappeared from his life and left him suffering for over a decade without him. But just because all of that is true doesn’t mean that Nigel isn’t also a nice person. Nigel who helped him up when he knocked him out, who took him to the hospital, who offered to drive him to be there for the birth of his nephew.

“Yeah, I guess you are sometimes.” He admits quietly.

They sit in silence for a moment before Nigel nudges Bryan’s knee with his own. “Let’s get something to eat.”

They end up getting fish and chips, and Bryan has to remember that chips are fries here, and not chips like back home. He doesn’t have the fish, instead opting for the veggie burger they offer, and they take them actually onto the beach, sitting down on the dry sand at the top near the wall.

They’re pretty nice, if not a little greasy, and the burgers quite spicy which is nice, and sitting arm to arm with Nigel as they eat is even nicer. It’s dark now, but everything is illuminated by the lights running along the seafront, and the clear night sky means that the moon is reflecting on the ocean, and it’s beautiful. He feels at peace here, and Bryan realises Claudio might have been onto something when he asked if he was in Blackpool to find himself. He knows he’s not finding himself here, but maybe it’s something akin to it. He’s finding something here. He realises he hasn’t properly stopped in a while, stopped and appreciated himself, his family, his life. It’s been go go go since he joined AEW, even when he was sidelined for that little while to be on the safe side with his head, he was training, he was keeping up with everything he could so he didn’t get left behind. He’s been chasing the title and chasing the top spot right from the very beginning, and after losing to MJF, he knew he had to change things, knew he had to go back to the drawing board if he wanted to keep doing this. And that plan had been getting Nigel back into wrestling, somehow. Because no matter what he does, Nigel being there means Bryan is better. Bryan is always at his best when Nigel is around, and that was the whole reason for coming here, or at least to Liverpool to find him. Because Bryan wants to be the best and he needs Nigel there with him.

But maybe this has more than opened his eyes to how good just stopping for a while can be. He’s enjoyed these few days with Nigel, not thinking of work much at all. Maybe he needs to do this more often. Maybe now he knows why Claudio sets aside time when he can to play Uno with Breeze, Creed and Cole, why Mox still drives his truck out to forests and wooded areas to go for a run where he can completely be alone, why Yuta sits and plays his steel pan for hours, learning new rhythms until he’s memorised them. Maybe Bryan needs to just stop more, focus on his garden again like he has in the past. Maybe Nigel could help him.

Maybe, if he can get Nigel to come home, Nigel could do a lot of things with him.

They finish their food and Bryan gets up to walk over to the trash can to throw away their rubbish before sitting back next to Nigel. There’s sand in his shoes again, and it’s all over the backs of his legs but he doesn’t really care, because he’s pressed against Nigel, and he can feel his warmth, smell his cologne.

It feels a bit like when it was just them in the car on the way to the next show, when they didn’t bum a lift off Colt, or Sal wasn’t jumping into the back at the last minute begging for a ride, or Nigel offering Roddy the back seat without consulting him. It’s just the two of them, no one else around them, just the expanse of the sand and sea, the moon above and the cold snap of the wind around them as the waves crash against the shoreline.

“Headlock takeover.” Nigel says suddenly, quiet, and laughing a little.

“What?”

“You said the other day, about how people took little parts of me and made them their own. But that kid, MJF, he told that other guy, what’s his name… Darby. He told Darby he could beat him with a headlock takeover. And he pretty much did. You remember the two out of three falls match, you did nothing but put me in a headlock for the first twenty minutes of the match. He was taking little bits of you, in that one.”

Bryan has to admit, he doesn’t remember that between MJF and Darby, but it sounds like something that Max would say. And that he would do. He also doesn’t remember a hell of a lot of the two out of three falls match either, but he does remember the headlocks, and how much he knew it was pissing Nigel off.

“Yeah but I didn’t beat you with it.”

“No, but you could have. You got the first fall. A regular match you would have won.”

“You only took that pin because it was that type of match, you’d have kicked out if it was a regular match.”

Nigel huffs, “And how’d you know that, eh?”

“Because I know you. And every other match we’ve had. Takes me a lot more than that to beat you.”

“Doesn’t take you a lot, Dragon. You beat me more than I beat you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean, am I sure? We’ve had about forty matches in total, give or take, and about thirteen of those were one on one singles. I took you to a time limit draw on two occasions. So out of the remaining eleven matches, I only beat you three times, so you’re up by eight to three.”

Huh. Bryan didn’t know that. All the different matches he’s had with Nigel have all melded together, he remembers bleeding and being in pain in most of them, but he can’t remember all of them or who won or lost which. He just remembers moments, like the ending of that two out of three falls match, the blood at Unified. The blood in their last match. There were tag matches too, he can remember those. Especially the ones in which he got to tag with Nigel, they were always the best. He loved wrestling Nigel, getting to tear and claw at him, but he loved wrestling with Nigel too. They were a good team, and he remembers teaming up with him to take on Naomichi Marafuji and Takeshi Morishima, both of them wanting to prove they were good enough to pin the champ and get a shot at Morishima’s World title. Which, if he remembers rightly, Nigel got the pin that night. And he went on to beat Morishima for the title, which Bryan ruined the celebration by coming out to him and trying to pick a fight.

Of course he tried to pick a fight. If anyone was going to fight Nigel for the title it was going to be him—

Bryan suddenly feels an arm behind his back, and then it’s around his neck, Nigel catching him in a headlock.

“You think I’ve got it in me to get my score up to make us even, Dragon?” Nigel says, and like he’s not missed a day in the ring, he wrestles Bryan down onto the sand, and Bryan can feel it grazing his hands as he scrambles to push himself off, can feel it getting in every single crack and crevice of his clothes and body, but he can also feel the electricity of Nigel touching him, of Nigel wrestling him. It’s not in the ring, and it’s just a headlock, but it feels like everything slots into place, like that tiny piece of the puzzle that you dropped on the floor and could never find just magically slots in, and the whole picture is complete.

Bryan grips at Nigel’s arm, still just as strong as it ever was, even if it’s not as big, and he tries his hardest to wrench himself out of the hold, but with the sand he can’t get his footing, sneakers in the sand is not the same as boots in the ring. It takes a little bit of tussling before Bryan finally manages to flip them over, slipping out of the headlock. He pushes Nigel down onto the sand, gripping his wrists and pinning them down.

“It’s like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it.” Bryan says, and he’s straddling Nigel’s waist now, sitting triumphant on top of him.

“Maybe you never forget how to do it, but you can get too old too.”

“You’re not. You’re just making excuses.”

“You really are still an insufferable little brat, aren't you?”

And Bryan feels that all over his body, always felt it when Nigel called him an annoying little brat, always wanted to kiss him or punch him, do something to show just how much of a brat he could be but he never did. He never had the nerve.

Bryan leans down and kisses him before he can talk himself out of it, or before Nigel can push him off.

The minute his lips touch Nigel’s, for the first time in over a decade, Bryan feels like a firework goes off inside him, lighting up every single vein and nerve with pure magic. Nigel is warm and solid beneath him, and his lips are soft, their combined stubble and beard scratch together, and Bryan feels like he’s flying. Nigel’s kissing him back, and it’s not just one of the soft, scared, barely there kisses they used to have under the covers, it’s a kiss that Bryan’s pouring everything into, let’s go of Nigel’s hands and can’t help but let slip a moan when they come up to settle on his hips.

The kiss is only broken when Bryan feels like his lungs are going to explode from lack of oxygen and he has to take a breath. Nigel stares up at him, dazed, and his fingers are stroking just under the hem of his shirt, against the soft skin of his belly and making him shiver.

“That was…” Nigel says sitting up, pressing the two of them flush together, and leaving him with a lap full of Bryan.

“Long overdue.” Bryan finishes for him, pressing their foreheads together, because now he’s this close to Nigel he doesn’t want to stop, not until he’s pushed off and told no.

Bryan kisses him again, just because he can, and this time he gets fistfuls of Nigel’s jacket to keep him close, and he shamelessly grinds down into his lap. He doesn’t even care that they’re out in the open, because it’s dark, and it’s Nigel, and he didn’t think he’d ever be this close to him ever again.

“You get turned on when I call you a brat, Dragon?”

“You’ve never noticed?” Bryan answers against his mouth, and when Nigel huffs against his lips Bryan swallows it greedily, because he doesn’t know when he’ll get this again, whether Nigel will clam up or start teasing him again, pretending they’re nothing but people who used to wrestle together, not even friends, not even something.

“You never said.”

Bryan ignores Nigel in favour of kissing him, because that’s the better option, and Nigel lets it happen for a while before he’s pulling away, and dodging Bryan when he tries to chase his lips.

“Let’s go back. We can’t do this here.”

Bryan makes a noise, but Nigel’s right, they can’t spend all night here, and Bryan, well, he wants more than a kiss, if Nigel will give it to him. And they can’t do that here.

He gets up, offering a hand to Nigel to help him. A wave crashes loudly behind them, and Bryan feels like it’s as loud as his heartbeat right now, thumping against his chest as he looks up at Nigel.

There’s a moment where Nigel looks like he’s going to push Bryan out of his space, just turn away from him like he’s done so many times already this past week, but then he gets a hand around the back of Bryan’s neck and pulls him in, kissing him deep and hard like he’s always wanted Nigel to. And it’s everything he’s dreamed of, everything he’s ever pictured. Nigel’s hand is strong on his neck, and his mouth is hot and heavy and it makes Bryan sway on his feet.

“Nigel…”

“Come on, let's get back.” Nigel moves him by the hand on the back of his neck, before sliding it down to the small of his back as they make their way up the beach and back onto the sidewalk. The B&B isn’t too far away, but Bryan’s fizzing inside of his bones by the time they get there, feels like he’s having an outer body experience as they ascend the stairs, Nigel hot on his heels as they go.

He stumbles a little trying to unlock the room, the old key getting jammed in the door more than once, and it’s embarrassing that he’s in his forties and fumbling like a teenager, but that’s just how Nigel makes him feel, how long he’s been waiting to have this kind of moment with Nigel.

“Nervous?” Nigel rumbles behind him as they get into the room, and Bryan hates how small and inexperienced Nigel can make him feel. He’s old and he’s done this dance so many times that he can’t keep track, but Nigel makes him feel like a Virgin on prom night.

“Shut the fuck up.” He half growls half whines, slipping out of his jacket. Nigel does the same, and he’s barely got it off his shoulders before Bryan’s sinking to his knees in front of him. The carpet of the room is thin and he knows his knees are going to kill him after this, but God, if he hasn’t thought about this since he was in his early twenties, hasn’t wanted to suck Nigel’s dick for nearly two decades. Right now he doesn’t care if they both pop out and crack to pieces, as long as he gets his mouth on Nigel.

“Oh bloody hell, Bryan.” Nigel grits out when Bryan gets his cock out of his jeans, thick, hard and heavy in his hand. He’s seen Nigel’s dick before, in that woman’s mouth, in the locker room showers when he didn’t care who saw him naked, but he’s never been this close. Never held it in his hand, but he’s imagined it, dreamt about it and got himself off to it.

Bryan feels himself make an embarrassing noise when he slips his mouth down over him. He’s not been touched, or touched anyone, in months. Regal’s been busy, and before that he was too unwell with what MJF did to him, and the others, well he hasn’t been around to touch them. He’s touch starved and only noticing it now he’s finally getting to touch Nigel.

Nigel’s fingers find the back of his head, and tug at the hair tie, letting his hair down so he can get a grip on it.

“Always fucking knew you’d be good at this. Used to run your mouth so much, all I’d think about was stuffing you full and shutting you up.”

Bryan makes another noise at that, sliding his tongue along the underside of his cock. And if he could bear to take his mouth off of him Bryan would ask why he never did, because he’d have let him, it’s all he thought about too. He looks up at Nigel and grips his hip with the hand he’s not working his cock with, feels the dip that never used to be there, the slimness of his figure something that Bryan never expected to feel but it still feels right, like his fingers are meant to be there, mapping out every single line and muscle of Nigel’s body. Nigel’s face is slack with pleasure, eyes a little glazed over already, and Bryan thinks, wonders, how long it’s been for him. How long since someone touched him like this?

“Bry — get, get on the bed. I won’t last, and I can’t —“

Bryan doesn’t need to be told twice. He knows, they’re not young anymore, and they don’t have the refractory period they used to have, and Bryan really, really doesn’t want this to end with just a blow job, either.

He gets on the bed and pulls at his clothes, throwing them haphazardly off the other side of the bed. Nigel crawls on after him, a condom and lube in his hand, and Bryan can’t help but raise his eyebrows at him.

“Were you hoping to get lucky?”

Nigel smirks and bullies his way between Bryan’s legs, dropping them onto Bryan’s chest as he kisses him. “I don’t go anywhere without a condom, Dragon, safety first.” He says, and Bryan realises why just a little too late, but his apology is swallowed by Nigel’s mouth, and the strong hands that slide down his side to his ass short circuit his brain until he’s not thinking about anything but Nigel’s touch, and the heat from his skin, and the way he sucks and bites at Bryan’s throat like a starving man.

When Nigel gets his fingers into him, Bryan’s chest is bitten raw and his hair is sweaty and matted against the pillow from where Nigel’s been keeping him down with a hand to his throat as he chews at him like he’s a dog toy. And maybe he is, maybe he’s always been Nigel’s toy. It doesn’t matter that this is the first time they’ve ever been like this, he’s always been Nigel’s. Nigel’s the same way he’s Regal’s. The same way he’s Mox’s, Claudio’s, Yuta’s.

“I dreamt about you once, on the road,” Nigel murmurs against his mouth, and he’s got three fingers in him, and Bryan’s arching and squirming as he tries to get more, take more. “Dreamt about ripping those stupid trunks off you in the ring, pushing you down and making you mine, putting new trunks on you. Black ones, with a Union Jack across the arse. You know how much I hated seeing you in his gear?”

Bryan stutters out a breath. He didn’t know that. “You never said.” He gasps, and he grips at Nigel’s bicep, the bad one, but it’s not anymore, Bryan can feel the strength in it, how it’s holding him down, and in his head he can hear the thumpthumpthump of Todd Sinclaire’s hand on the mat, counting the three count.

“Nearly did, a few times. But your old man had his claws deep in you, always has, always will. Wouldn’t matter what I said, what I did.” Nigel’s teeth snag on his lip in a biting kiss, and Bryan feels his cock jump at the slight rush of pain.

Bryan feels like he’s floating, hands skimming over Nigel’s skin as he slips on a condom and lubes himself up. He thinks, as Nigel’s cock nudges into him, that at the time, if Nigel had asked him to stop wearing Regal’s trunks, he would have. At least, he wouldn’t have worn them all the time. He’d have worn black, or any other colour that Nigel wanted. Blue, maybe, just like Nigel used to wear in his early ROH years.

Fully seated inside of him, Nigel puts a hand around his throat, and he looks so beautiful on top of him. Just like he always did in the ring, just older now, a sharper jaw, softer eyes. Bryan pushes into his hand, hooks his legs around Nigel’s thighs, hands on his arms and pushes, flips them over to the middle of the bed.

Nigel looks just as good under him as he does on top of him, and he relishes in the hint of fear that crosses his face, that fighting spirit that Nigel’s so famous for starting to bubble to the surface.

Bryan rolls his hips, that first stroke of Nigel’s cock inside him making every single nerve inside of him sing, and he grips Nigel’s wrist around his throat, keeps it there like a pretty collar, and gives Nigel a matching one with his own hand.

“What, you thought I’d just lay down for you, Nigel? When have I ever done that?” Bryan grins at him, taking in Nigel’s shocked face.

“You always did come out on top.” Nigel says, but his free hand circles Bryan’s waist, and he plants his feet, pushing up into Bryan in slow, hard thrusts. It’s mind blowing, every thrust sending fireworks up Bryan’s spine, and his head tips back into the hand on his throat. It doesn’t cut off his air supply, but the pressure there, like Nigel could just choke him at any second, makes Bryan feel hot all over. It’s always will he won’t he with Nigel. Will he kiss him, will he punch him, will he beat him, will he take the title from him.

“I would have.” Bryan says, tipping his face back down, looking Nigel right in the eye as he rolls himself down, meeting the slow hard drag of Nigel’s dick.

“Would have what, Dragon?”

“Worn your trunks. You should have asked.”

“You wouldn’t—“

Bryan leans down, squeezing Nigel’s throat in warning, the same way he does to Yuta when he’s acting too much like a brat, and he kisses the corner of Nigel’s mouth, feeling the way he sucks in a breath, the way his dick twitches inside of him. “I would. I was his — am his, but I was just as much yours, always was, from the moment we met. Still am, after all this time.”

Nigel shakes a little below him, and Bryan pins both his arms down, taking what he’s wanted for so long now.

“Shit, Bry, I’m gonna—“

Bryan rides him through it, keeping Nigel’s arms pinned against the pillows. The way Nigel’s face contorts with his orgasm, the same way it did that night they slept with the woman from the bar, and Bryan’s been so desperate to see it ever since, to be the reason he’s seeing it, that it drives him a little crazy, and he only needs to stroke himself a couple of times before he’s coming all over Nigel’s stomach and chest, which is heaving with the orgasm and effort.

Bryan slumps down against Nigel, tucking his face into his neck and linking their fingers as they come down together. It’s funny, how long Bryan’s yearned for this, for Nigel, and that all the years he’s wanted it, the one thing that made him come and get it, get him, was losing to MJF. MJF doesn’t mean anything to him, other than being someone who hurt Regal, he’s no one to him, just a blip on the radar of people in his life. He’s no one. Yet somehow that loss, it rankled him enough to get on a plane all the way to England.

Was it really about the loss? The straw that broke the camel's back, or was it something else? Something subconscious, something deep within that Bryan hasn’t even begun to process yet? He doesn’t know. He just knows that he woke up the day after losing that match and he just — knew that this was where he needed to be. What was going to make Bryan happy, what was going to help him finally find his footing in the title picture. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about Nigel all these years, or not wanted him, but whenever he thought about him, it always ended with he’s gone, he doesn’t want to be found. But that morning, he woke up and said no, no more hiding, I need him.

“That woman from the bar, I couldn’t believe she was chatting you up. That you might have taken her back to the hotel. I kept thinking about it. About you touching her. I’d never seen you pull before, I couldn’t watch it.” Nigel says, breaking the silence that has fallen over them. His hand is on Bryan’s back, tracing the ridges of his spine with the pad of his finger.

“So you got involved?”

“I had hoped she would disappear, or I’d be able to get her to come with me to the bathroom or something and I could lose her. But she was relentless, she wanted your dick so bloody badly.” Nigel huffs out a laugh.

“Why didn’t you just tell her to leave?”

“Dunno, thought that would make it too obvious.”

“You should have made it obvious. It wasn’t her that I wanted. I was being polite, I wouldn’t have gone back to the hotel with her if you hadn’t come back too. I only managed to come because you did, I was watching you the whole time.” Bryan admits, and from where his cheek is pressed against Nigel’s shoulder he feels him let out a breath.

“I was imagining you were the one sucking me off, not her.” Nigel admits, and Bryan sighs. There was a middle woman that night, figuratively and literally, getting in the way of what they both wanted, because they were both too stubborn and too scared to admit how they really felt, who they really wanted.

“It could have been so different.” Bryan says.

“No,” Nigel says after a while. “It wouldn’t have been different. Even if we’d fucked, or been something, that wouldn’t have changed anything. WWE would have still rescinded my contract, I’d have still gotten Hepatitis. I’d have still come here, still done all this. Who I was getting my dick wet with would have never changed that.”

“You don’t know that, you don’t know how you—“

“I do know that, Bryan, I do know. I can’t tell you exactly when and where I got the hep, but I do know I’ve never had unprotected sex, so it came from wrestling. Whether we had been something I’d have still gotten it, still lost my contract, and still retired. What, you think that if we’d have had a thing back then that everything would have turned out perfectly? That I’d have come to the WWE with you, won the title a bunch of times and still been there now? Come on, Dragon, you’re smarter than that. You know that’s not how the world works.”

“Maybe,” Bryan says, resigned. He wishes it could have been like that. Forever entangled together. The only thing that would have made winning that first world title in WWE would have been Nigel being there with him, or being an insufferable prick and interrupting him, ruining the celebration, just like Bryan did to him in ROH. “But it’s hard not to think about what could have been.”

Nigel falls silent, and Bryan knows he’s thinking about it. What could have been. About a world where Nigel was never a retired pro wrestler turned car salesman, where he went ahead and became one of the most decorated wrestlers the WWE has ever seen. Because Bryan knows that given the chance, Nigel would have been bigger than he ever was. Everything that Bryan got, Nigel would have gotten double, he just knows it. Nigel connected with the crowd in a way very few others ever have. Maybe Bryan’s got the upper hand when it comes to wins, but he knows that if Nigel had managed to come with him, that tally would look a lot different now.

“The night you won the title, that World Heavyweight title, was the day after I retired.”

Bryan nods, because he remembers. “I text you.”

“You did. I didn’t get back to you. I was going to, but that night I couldn’t. And then the next morning, I was nothing but an angry shell of a person. You didn’t deserve what I would have said to you, so I didn’t.”

Bryan feels his stomach twist. He knows how it feels to know that your world as you know it is coming to an end. The world of professional wrestling is like no other, and when it gets ripped away from you, it’s like being sucked into a black hole. Bryan knows that if someone had been texting him about winning titles the day he was forced to retire, he wouldn’t have been in a good frame of mind either. He shouldn’t have done that to Nigel.

The words slip out of Bryan’s mouth before he can stop them.

“Come back with me. Come to AEW.”

Nigel stiffens underneath him, and then he untangles himself from Bryan, tying off the condom and throwing it away in silence.

“We’re going to Wembley in the summer, Nigel. We haven’t announced it yet, but Tony Khan is going to soon. We could be at Wembley, me and you. He brought ROH, we could go back to running it, the Pure title is back, just waiting for you to put it around your waist again, you could —“

“No.”

The word is vicious and angry, as Nigel finds a pair of boxers out of his bag and slides them on. Bryan gets out of the bed, finds Nigel’s robe and ties it around him.

“Nigel—“

“Fuck you, Bryan. Why are you here? What are you trying to achieve? Is this some fucking recruitment mission from your boss and the old man? Thought if you could fuck me and get me all buttered up that I’d agree to come back?”

“No, that’s not — I told you, no one knew I was coming here. Not Tony, not Regal, no one. I woke up on Monday morning and the only thing I could think about was finding you.”

“Right, because after a decade you suddenly decided I was important again?” Nigel sits down on the bed and buries his head in his hands. Bryan stares at the expanse of his back, the resigned and exhausted drop of his shoulders.

“You’ve always been important Nigel, I’ve not been the best at being around, but—“

“The day after I retired, after you won the title, I sat in my car and all the anger, the rage, the sadness, it just exploded out of me. I screamed and I cried, I shouted and I swore,” Nigel’s voice starts to shake, the tell tale sign that he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t fucking fair, Dragon. There was nothing wrong with me, I’d passed every fucking physical I could, every medical, every blood test and drug test and piss test. There was no fucking reason for him not to clear my arm. I had multiple letters from my doctors, there was nothing wrong with it, I wasn’t at risk of injuring myself without surgery. I was fucking fine, Bryan.” Nigel shouts, and there’s tears running down his face.

Bryan’s never been good with people who cry, whenever Yuta cries he hands him a tissue and lets Claudio deal with it because he’s better at it. He used to stare at his sister, not knowing what to say when she cried after a break up, waiting for her to stop crying. When his mom used to cry about his dad before they divorced, he’d lock himself in his room and wait for it to stop.

But this is Nigel. He’s never seen Nigel cry.

“I couldn’t afford the surgery they wanted, but I could have sorted something, if I really wanted it. But they wouldn’t even return my calls. I wanted it written that I’d be signed if I had the surgery. They wouldn’t even call me back, Bryan.”

Bryan gets on the bed and kneels behind Nigel, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I took the TNA call, and it was good, to start with. But then it started going tits up. Bad booking, getting Hepatitis. They said they’d pay me while not working but they didn’t, that’s why I worked at the grocery store. I could barely afford my fucking rent,” Nigel says, and he drives the heels of his palms into his eyes, his voice thick and claggy with sadness and tears, anger lacing it like venom.

“When they fired me, I knew that was it. I called WWE, but they didn’t want me anymore, even though I proved that my arm didn’t need surgery. I was too old, too broken. A walking fucking disaster. So I thought let’s give it one last fucking run, go out on a high note. Lost most of the matches, didn’t get to wrestle any one I wanted because you were all fucking off being big stars elsewhere. And just like that, life was over.” He says, sniffing away some of the tears. Bryan squeezes his shoulder, because he doesn’t know what to say. His heart hurts, because he knows that everyone was either at WWE, him, Claudio, Mox, or Joe, Doug, Aries still being in TNA, Colt was on the indies and couldn’t make it. Nigel’s last matches were with only a handful of people that meant anything to him.

“And I was angry, Bryan. I was angry and I was upset and I was fucking broke. My own fucking mother paid for my flight home for Christmas. There was a couple of times where I wanted to drive my car right into the fucking Thames, go down with it.” Nigel says, and his shoulders shake with the emotion of it all, and Bryan lays his forehead against the back of his neck, winds his arms around his waist and just holds him.

“But I’ve had nearly fourteen years to come to terms with it, to make peace with it, to finally let go of all of that hurt and anger and be at peace with the fact that it wasn’t supposed to happen for me. What I got was what I got, the ROH stuff, everything with us, it was enough in the end, I made it enough Bryan. And I told Regal no, and I’m telling you, no. Because I’m old, I’m old and I’m tired and I have no business getting back in a ring. Even for Wembley, even for Ring of Honor. Which, by the way, your boy is the Pure champ, you telling me I should take the title from him in this return you’re booking in your head? Want me to beat him up?”

Bryan can’t help but let out a puff of breath against the back of Nigel’s neck, thinking about Nigel and Yuta in the ring together. It’s never been lost on Bryan how much Yuta looks up to him, and Nigel, because a lot of Yuta’s style and techniques are uncanny. But Nigel and Yuta, grappling down on the mat, well, it’s a thought that could certainly keep Bryan warm at night.

“If there’s one thing about Yuta, it's that he doesn’t back down from a challenge. If you were back in the ring you’d probably not have time to even announce it before he’d challenge you. You’re the longest Pure champ, he’s got the most reigns. It would be a match to prove who’s the best Pure champ.”

“And who’ve you got your money on, Dragon?”

“You, always you.” Bryan says, and he presses a kiss to the back of Nigel’s neck, runs his fingers over the skin of his stomach, it used to be softer, Nigel always had a little belly, and Bryan used to stare at it when it just softly pudged out over the top of his trunks.

“So. Wembley, huh?” Nigel says, and the hint of wonder in his voice makes Bryan feel like hope is not lost. He’s not going to push now, Nigel can tell him he’s blue in the face that he’s made peace with never wrestling again, but Bryan knows that you don’t cry over something you’ve made peace with. You don’t have shrines and sit and stare at old belts if you’ve made peace with it. So maybe this is going to take longer than he thought, but it’s okay, he’s got time, he hasn’t got any plans, and Tony told him to take as much time as he wanted before coming back to work.

“Yeah. Tony’s gonna announce it soon.” He says, and it’s almost like he can see what Nigel’s thinking about. Nigel coming out, two fingers raised in the air, iron in one hand, the Pure title around his waist, to eighty odd thousand people screaming his name. The way it always should have been.

“You know,” Bryan says, because apparently he can’t let sleeping dogs lie and even if he tells himself not to push he just can’t stop, “making a return doesn’t mean you have to get back in the ring.”

Nigel’s body doesn’t freeze this time, nor does he push Bryan away.

“Oh yeah, what should I do, become a ref?”

“You could commentate, or be a manager. Regal called you for Blackpool Combat Club for a reason. He knew he was coming in and he was gonna’ mentor me and Mox again. He wanted you by his side, I know how he thinks. There’d be no one better to head hunt for talent than you. People like Yuta, Lee Moriarty, Daniel Garcia, they’ve watched and learned from you all their lives and who better to come back and teach them in person? If I’d have had you next to me, I might have done a better job at showing Daniel he was a wrestler, not a sports entertainer.”

“Jericho’s done good with him so far, you can see that.”

“But with us he’d be better. Look at Yuta. He gets better every single match, he’s meaner and he’s sharper. One day he’s going to be better than me. I often think that he and Daniel are going to be the new me and you.”

Nigel snorts, “They fucked yet?”

“Yes, so they’re already doing better than we did.”

Bryan can feel the smile break out on Nigel’s face even though he’s not looking at him, his face still pressed into the back of his neck.

“You know everything there is to know about wrestling Nigel, you can talk the talk and walk the walk, you could be dumped on a commentary table tomorrow and you’d do a better job than half the comentators out there.”

Nigel doesn’t say anything, and Bryan doesn’t push, at least anymore than he already has, and just strokes his fingers over the skin of his tummy, and then gently coaxes him back into bed. His eyes are red and puffy, and Bryan just wants to make it go away. To show Nigel that he can come home, that he doesn’t have to stay away anymore, there’s a Nigel McGuinness sized crater in wrestling just waiting to be filled back up. It’s not too late, he’s not too old.

Bryan sits up against the headboard and gets his arms around Nigel’s shoulders, bringing him down against him. These old fashioned B&B bedsheets are scratchy against his bare skin, but somehow he’s in his fourties and in bed with Nigel McGuinness, in a place that looks like they got the last room for a last minute booking. It’s like nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once.

“You don’t even know that Tony Khan would want me.”

Bryan smoothes his hand down between Nigel’s shoulder blades. “If you don’t think Regal hadn’t already talked about you to him at length then you’re crazy. And if you haven’t noticed, he’s a massive mark. He’d flip his little fan boy heart out if he got Nigel McGuinness back in ROH.”

“You’ve said mark to many times since I’ve seen you for my liking.”

“I’ve said it like twice.”

“Too many times, Dragon.”

“Point still stands. If he knew I was here I’d have had to turn my phone off by now.”

There’s a long silence, and has already started falling asleep when Nigel speaks.

“It’s still a no.”

Bryan sighs, a little deflated, and he scoots down the bed so he can curl under the covers against Nigel’s side. They’ll be leaving tomorrow, because it will be Sunday and Nigel has work on Monday morning. But Bryan doesn’t have anywhere to be, he can wait, as long as it takes, for Nigel’s answer to turn into a yes.

“Goodnight, Nigel.”

The journey back to Liverpool is wet and windy, with big fat raindrops thrashing against the windows and the wipers going at a million miles an hour as Nigel drives. They’d gotten up that morning and had breakfast, took another short walk on the beach before the weather turned bad, before checking out of the B&B and getting in the car to come home. They’d hit Sunday traffic, and then the weather really picked up making it worse, and they’ve been slowly crawling back to Nigel’s the past couple of hours.

The rain soaks them when they finally run into the house, and it feels cold and unlived in when Nigel finally manages to unlock the door. He’s immediately shoved up the stairs, and Bryan goes easily, letting Nigel bully him all the way into Nigel’s bedroom.

Finally seeing the inside of the room is like seeing into Nigel’s mind. It’s nicely furnished, with a big fancy bed, a couple of bedside tables and lamps, plush carpet and a wardrobe and a dresser. But above the dresser are two shelves, one with the Pure title on, and above it, one with a replica of the ROH World title on. They both sit proudly, and two photographs are framed on the wall either side of them. One, a picture of Nigel with his classic look, the bomber jacket, the sunglasses, the blonde spiked hair, and the title is backwards around his waist, so you can’t see the design but you can see the straps. The other, a picture of them, and Bryan thinks it might be from the night Nigel lost the Pure title to him, they’re shaking hands, and Bryan’s got the World title around his waist, Nigel’s got the Pure title on his shoulder.

He realises he’s been staring at it too long when Nigel shoves him down onto the bed face first, hands threading into his bun and pulling it out, letting his hair splay out so he can pull at it.

He lets out a broken noise, but he goes down easily for Nigel, letting him strip him down and bend him like a pretzel, putting him in god damn submission moves as he fingers him, eats him out, fucks him into oblivion. Bryan’s thoroughly worked out by the time it’s dinner time, and his body aches like he’s been through a match or been running the ropes for hours.

It’s good, though, it’s fucking wonderful, actually, because Nigel doesn’t seem to want to put him down now that they’ve open the gates on an intimate relationship. He doesn’t want Nigel to put him down, and he doesn’t want to put Nigel down, so he doesn’t, and they stay holed up in his bedroom for the rest of the night, even eating dinner curled up between the sheets, which Bryan would yell at anyone else for. But Nigel kisses him like he’s the very best dessert he’s ever had, so Bryan is not going to complain at all.

He doesn’t mention the belts on the wall, or the picture of them, because he’s done enough pushing.

Bryan sleeps next to Nigel that night, and they stay in bed right up until Nigel has to drag himself out and shower before he ends up late for work the next morning.

They fall back into their routine, Nigel goes to work and Bryan finds himself things to do, gardening mostly, if it’s not pouring down with rain or too cold. They spend their spare moments making up for lost time, and Bryan feels like his brain and body go through a hard reset. He’s always known that he needs Nigel, he’s felt the absence of him like a missing tooth at the back of his mouth for years now. Its not always felt, but when you do, the size of the gap is a shock. And now Bryan’s realising just how big that gap has been for so long. Reminds him that when he’s successful here, he’s got to fix what’s going on at home.

They go to the pub on Wednesday night, and Jenny squeals in delight when she sees him, pulling him down into the same seat as last time, telling him all about the week she’s had at work — she’s a teacher, which Bryan can see how she’d fit in that environment —, and Robbie, Tom and George fill him in on all the soccer scores like they’re the most important things in the world. Bryan likes Nigel’s friends, and he happily helps Jen beat them all at poker, and he laughs at her flirting when they drop her home, drunker than she was last week.

They fuck and they watch wrestling and eat dinner together, Nigel works and Bryan keeps himself busy. It’s a kind of domestic bliss that Bryan hasn’t had in a long time. Maybe ever.

A week after they get back from Blackpool, nearly two weeks after Bryan showed up at Nigel’s workplace with just a bag and a mission, Nigel comes back from work, Bryan’s washing the dishes after he’d baked banana bread, and Nigel looks at him. He looks scared, nervous, but there’s a sparkle in his eye, that fight and determination that Bryan remembers so well dancing around in his pretty eyes.

“Nigel?” Bryan says, drying his hands on the dish towel.

“Do it.”

“Do what?”

Nigel bites at his lip, runs a hand over his face and lets out a nervous breath and says,

“Call Tony. Tell him I want to talk.”

#writing #bryan danielson x nigel mcguinness #bryan danielson #nigel mcguinness #blackpool combat club

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 years ago

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Heyy :]

I hope you're having an amazing day, because Im certainly in a dilemma for quite a while now. Do you have any tips on writing happy scenes? Not how to actually write them once they happen, but how to MAKE them happen.

When I first started my book, it was very lighthearted, but in the last years it became too dark & full of pain. It's not like I won't keep the sad scenes, it's just that it's not fun reading a book with very few lighthearted scenes inbetween a bunch of pain. It's just hard for me to come up with many nice scenes.

Thank you alot in advance! Your advice is very helpful and I hope it can help me once again :>

Have a nice day!

Incorporating Lightheartedness Into Sad Story

Grief and misery are exhausting enough in real life, most of us don't want to consume a story that offers nothing but grief and misery. That's why it's so important to incorporate a little happiness in your story wherever you can, in whatever way you can. There are a few different ways you can do this.

1) Create Hope - Even the most miserable moments can be more bearable if you can see "a light at the end of the tunnel," so it's important to give the characters something hopeful to strive toward, and to show periodic glimpses of that hopeful thing being in reach.

2) Embrace the Little Things - At the end of the day, we're simple creatures and the "little things"... the beauty and joy that can be found in the every day... are so often the fuel that give us life. The smell of a book, the taste of a ripe strawberry, watching children play, cool rainfall after a sweltering day, a crisp starry night, laughing with friends, seeing two people in love... find ways to incorporate little things like these into little happy moments to break up the monotony of grief and misery.

3) Find Beauty in the Surrounding World - This is an extension of the above, but it's more about the environment. The world around us can be so beautiful if we take a moment to see the beauty. It's the single yellow wild flower that blooms in the smoking ruins of a palace devastated by an evil wizard, the double rainbow that paints the sky after a massive thunderstorm, cricket and frog song mingling in the swamp in the dark hours after a battle, a sky riddled with stars after saying goodbye to a friend lost in combat.

4) Work in the "Everyday" - Even in the midst of a drawn out war between two kingdoms, there's downtime between battles, and during that downtime, "everyday" stuff has to happen. The horses need to be fed and watered, food needs to be prepared, weapons and armor need to be polished, wounds need to be mended, people need to bathe and go to the bathroom, tents and shelters need to be put up, cook fires need to be built... you get the idea. When you show your characters engaging in the business of everyday life in the midst of whatever turmoil they're experiencing, you bring the volume of the chaos down--for just a moment--so that your characters and reader can catch their breath. It's a reminder that life goes on, that no matter how bad it gets, the laundry still needs to be done and the plants still need to be watered. It can also serve as a reminder for the "status quo" the characters are physically and/or emotionally fighting for.

5) Weave in Some Humor - There's no better way to break the tension of a dark moment than to add a little well-timed levity. A witty comeback, a sarcastic comment, a joke, a little bit of slapstick... whatever works. This can be tricky if you don't feel like you're good at humor in real life, but watch some funny movies or some funny movie clips on YouTube and try to recreate that in some moment in your story. The Marvel Cinematic Universe is exceptionally good at this, in my opinion.

Have fun with your story!

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heyitsyn · 4 years ago

Text

Manager!Seijoh

a/n: im a seijoh stan and theyre my little plant babies

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

this is so long oml i hate myself

theyre an actual boy band istg

lets be honest, they probably thought you were just another oikawa fangirl

they thought you just wanted to be closer to their captain bc you were another delusional girl who wanted to live out her fantasies

lmao im not trying to be salty

but when you just stared blankly at oikawa tooru after he called you a beautiful flower,

stageplay hinata calling you a mugwort

the team just about threw themselves on your feet

tbh you werent really there to get a boyfriend or for oikawa

you just needed an after school club and the other teams already had managers

the only sport that didnt was the boys volleyball team

imagine why

you were actually a little wary, since you knew of oikawa, being a first year yourself, and you were aware of his psycho fangirls who could probably kill you

but you needed a club that would last you for the next 3 years to graduate

it was kunimi who actually recommended being a manager

you were in his class and you noticed him sleeping in the morning so you gave him your energy bar

‘thanks’

you shrugged and smiled

thats why he tolerated you more than others

you were nice and you were the only one who noticed his tiredness, even the teacher left him alone, and did something about it

sometimes, you even gave him an energy drink

‘can you tell me why youve been so tired lately? i dont think ive seen you wake up until lunch’

he opened the snack and started munching while replying

‘early morning practice for volleyball is still a big adjustment. our captain demands us to be there 6 in the morning sharp and if we’re even a minute late, we’d have to run laps. like for every minute youre late, you have to run those amount’

oh my why is kunimi talking so much

but i love kunimi and first year seijoh boys rights in this household is valid

you furrowed your eyebrows

‘but yall are still growing and you need all your sleep. if i were there, id yell at your captain’

he grinned slightly, imagining your short height beating up their captain

‘meh. you want to be our manager? i saw you looking at the clubs board yesterday and we dont have one so you could take the opportunity and beat him up then’

ofc you agreed bc kunimi was best boi and you just wanted him to have enough sleep for once

after class, he waited for you to finish packing up and when you finished, yall left the classroom

until another guy with a spiky hairstyle joined you and you noticed him as the guy who sometimes came over to eat lunch with kunimi

‘oh, hello l/n-san’

you smiled gently

‘drop the formalities, kindaichi-kun. its only fair.’

he nodded before walking beside kunimi

‘kindaichi, l/n might be our new manager’

the onion head excitedly looked at you

‘really?! yes! so we dont have to fill our bottles ourselves anymore!’

kunimi glared at him and slapped his stomach

‘shes our manager, not our maid’

you laughed but placed an arm on him

‘its okay. i was a manager for my middle school volleyball team so i know a little bit about being one’

the two shared a look

god, they really hit the jackpot

as yall walked closer to the gym, you noticed the big pile of girls huddling at the corner

kunimi sighed

‘l/n, ill warn you ahead of time of our captain. hes kinda,,,, too much’

but you flashed him a smile

‘hes not the first one ive handled’

oml player-chan!!!

so when you opened the door and entered the gym and oikawa hit you with his normal antics, you just stared at him

‘okay and?’

hanamaki and mattsun howled before rushing to you and grabbing you in a hug

‘girls like her really exist!!’

you gave kunimi and kindaichi a signal of help and they nodded before gently prying the senpais off of you

‘senpai, please’

you gave kunimi a grateful nod

coach irihata went up to you bc wow, kunimi has a friend with of another gender?

‘how can we help you, miss?’

‘im l/n y/n, first year, and id like to apply as the manager’

internally, the coach sighed bc you werent the first one to apply

the reason they havent had a manager for years was bc of oikawa’s fangirls hiding themselves under that false facade

but he saw you brush off that comment oikawa make with no hint of fluster or blush on your face so he decides to give you a trial run, in guise of seeing if you could handle these chaotic boys

‘do you have any experience as manager? or do we need to teach you the ropes?’

‘i was a manager for 3 years in my middle school volleyball’

he nodded

‘ill give you one month. a trial run of a month to test the waters’

you agreed and your trial run began

kunimi mentioned that morning practice starts at 6 am sharp so you set your alarm for 5 to get ready and get to school on time before the boys

you remembered how to set up the nets so you quickly put them out (using a step stool bc we short) and ran to get the basket of balls

their water bottles were filled and you were in the middle of lugging the big basket of towels when the third years entered

the 4 of them usually came earlier than the rest so they saw you dragging the basket of fresh towels and wipe your sweat before smiling at the work youve done

iwa was so happy bc it was usually him who did this stuff and now that he had someone do it for him, it was like a god-send

oikawa’s eyes shone and he waved at you

‘yohoo, y/n-chan!’

you cringed at the loud voice of the famous oikawa tooru

‘hello, oikawa-san’

he chuckled at your politeness before hugging you

‘you did all this for us? youre so cute, y/n-chan!’

instead of the normal blush and love-struck eyes, you were actually very uncomfortable of the sudden skinship and you quickly ran to the side when iwa hit him at the head

‘shittykawa! leave her alone!’

‘iwa-chan!’

makki and mattsun stood next to you as the boys did their usual fight

‘is this all an act or are you really not attracted to oikawa?’

mattsun shot him a surprised look bc why was he so straightforward

but you just shrugged

‘hes cute, i admit. but ive seen much cuter and the boys in my middle school team was basically full of him so,,, and i hate guys who think theyre all that just bc theyre blessed w a pretty face. if anything, ill probably go for iwaizumi-san’

pop off S I S T E R!!!

you just won the heart of these two

slowly but surely, they all came to accept you and iwa straight out loves you bc you maintained this routine for the whole month of your trial run

and you still remained indifferent of oikawa’s advances and he was even impressed and slightly agitated that you werent paying attention to him

‘y/n-chan, one date! just one!’

you huffed before looking up from your clipboard

‘i like men, oikawa-san. not boys’

that comment made the guys shriek

‘y/n-chan! youre just a first year! you dont need a man!’

‘youre not a man, oikawa!’

you left oikawa to be tormented by his teammates and went to go and hand over the report to the coach

he was impressed by the notes you made bc they were ones he even missed

like the split-second of hesitation that kindaichi usually has that goes unnoticed but you immediately saw

or the wince oikawa has whenever he so much as jumps an inch

you could even tell the difference between iwa’s spike and if he was being easy or he was going full-out

this added on to the fact that the boys loved you and irihata actually saw kunimi try more

but he thinks its only to earn your praises

‘y/n, youre officially the team manager’

yall celebrated at the normal hang-out spot which was the ramen shop and it truly shocked you at how much these boys ate

granted, this was the first time you ate together but you didnt expect them to eat nearly 5 bowls each

you could only finish 2 and you already feel like throwing up

‘honestly, how do you guys not gain weight after this?’

the table you sat at, iwa, kindaichi, mattsun, and kunimi, looked at you and shrugged

‘i work out’

‘i run’

‘i fast’

‘i poop it out’

lmao im sorry i cackled too hard at this

you stared blankly at mattsun’s answer who said it so seriously that you snorted a laugh

they watched you and your laughter bc you havent really expressed yourself as much

so they made it their goal to see you laugh more

‘y/n-chan! you need to eat more!’

oikawa shouted, clearly food drunk, but you shook your head aggressively

‘i only planned to eat one bowl but he just had to shove another down my throat’

‘but you need to grow, y/n-chan!’

‘i want to grow taller! not wider!!’

As a manager:

oh boy

you basically grew into kinda their mom

‘oikawa-san! you need to rest your knee or youre going to hurt yourself! i will drag you home myself!’

‘kunimi, if you try to get this one more spike, i’ll buy you a bag of those caramel bites you like’

‘iwa-san! if you hit oikawa-san too much, youll destroy the little braincells he has!’

‘yahaba-san, nice dump!’

‘is your knee okay, watari-san?’

yall really forget that watari and yahaba exist sometimes smh

it was part of the work

keeping up with seijoh

so to keep them encouraged, you gave them praises that they always demand for and they always turn to you whenever they did something good

mattsun gives you a look whenever he blocks iwa’s spikes and you give kindaichi a head pat whenever he blocks some too

bc of how you are with them, sometimes, they forget that you are actually just a first year

they get shocked whenever you walk in with kunimi and kindaichi and talk about the current homework bc it slips their mind that their hard-working manager was actually just a 15-year-old girl

so, they try to ease the burden whenever they can

like iwa offering to help you whenever you have to take their jerseys to the laundrymat

or offering to help you with your assignments since theyve only been through it once

more like watari, yahaba, and iwa bc the matsuhana are clueless and acts like they completely skipped that grade

also

!!!!

oikawa’s fangirls ltr dont leave you alone!!!

now, its known that youre the manager of the volleyball team bc oikawa has boasted about your efforts and such

this obvs ticked off a bunch of girls bc they were jealous that you got to spend more time in a single practice with their precious oikawa-senpai than they have their entire lives

more than once theyve cornered you to threaten you to stay away from their senpai or youll have something coming for you

you never take them seriously bc you can fight too and you just give them a look and push them away

but this one time

TRIGGER WARNING-START

okay tea

the self-proclaimed president of the oikawa tooru fanclub, kenta miyo, cornered you at the bathroom with her other minions

you were just washing your hands and drying them off when she marched up to you and grabbed your hair before tugging it back

obviously you were surprised and shouted

‘oi! what the hell?!’

‘you slut! you need to stay away from my tooru, got it?!’

ehm what

you hissed and wrenched her arm from your hair and pushed her away

your hair was now a mess and you were fuming, already sick and tired of the torture these girls put you through

‘he belongs to himself, not you! so stop being delusional and leave me alone already!’

she signalled for the girls to hold on to you which you slapped away but they forcefully grabbed your arm while you kicked at them and struggle to get out of their hold

jesus what do these girls eat

miyo watches you struggle with a smile and cackles

‘oh? no fight anymore, little kouhai?’

you glared at her

‘i dont want to beat yall up bc id get yelled at by tooru so you need to let me go or regret it’

at the mention of his first name, her eyes widened and her face twisted and she slapped you

‘oi! respect your senpai, you brat! dont you ever say oikawa’s first name!’

your lips curled

‘oh? thats funny, because he actually told me to call him that since he wants his cute little manager to be very comfortable with him’

you achieved a feat that she has been working to get her entire high school life and miyo was not happy

‘ive been with him for 3 years and you just suddenly show up out of nowhere and call him that?! i dont think so!’

she had her hands around your neck and you gripped her arms, making her wince

but you laughed at that comment

‘heh, thats pathetic, isn’t it? here you are, my senpai, who has been vying for his attention for 3 years only to be ignored yet a mere first year, who shows up out of nowhere, has been asked to a date nearly a million times every day. that must be tough’

she shrieked at that comment and threw you on the floor, making you accidentally hit your head at the edge of the sink

yall im actually so bothered by this scene and im wincing as im typing

you bit your lip to prevent any sound of pain to escape bc you knew thats what she wanted to hear from you

but you werent going to give her the satisfaction

instead, you looked up at her, hatred swirling in your eyes

‘youre freaking psycho, you know that? once tooru and hajime knows about this, theyre going to give you hell. they wont ever let this go bc im the manager of their prized team and their little baby sister. so go ahead, do what you want with me. bc i paid too much for these nails to be tainted by dirt like you’

saiyo, a girl you noticed to be watari’s classmate when you went and visited him, nervously tugged on miyo’s jacket

‘miyo, we should go-’

‘SHES BLUFFING. AND HERE, SINCE YOUR SOCCERFIELD FOREHEAD IS BLEEDING, LET ME HELP WASH IT OUT’

and she poured over a carton of banana milk over you, making you wince at the sticky and cold liquid

the tough facade was crumbling and you were now screaming for help in your head, hoping that stupid theory from yahaba about team telepathy to work

but it didnt

TRIGGER WARNING-END

when miyo and her girls left, you sat on the floor, soaked and sticky and bleeding

then you begin to cry angry tears

you were angry that you were being treated like this just bc you were a manager

you were angry that you let them do that to you

you were angry that you prized your nails more than punching her square in the nose

you were just angry

periodt

staggering on your own feet, you stood up and leaned on the sink, eyes widening at the dripping red liquid from the gash on your forehead, staining the porcelain sink

you were stupid and unconsciously touched it making you wince

‘shit, that hurts’

you whined quietly

there was little you can do with toilet paper and water to clean yourself up but you managed to at least stop the bleeding

you knew you had to be put on concussion protocol just in case bc you that hit was quite hard but at the moment, that wasnt your concern

practice has already started and this was the first time you werent present for daily practice

this was confirmed at the constant buzzing of your phone in your skirt pocket which you didnt listen to and instead, started thinking of ways to go to your locker and get your stuff and fake being sick but at the same time, not be seen and relayed to the team

time was ticking and you had to come up with a plan fast before oikawa will send the team to come looking around the building for you

once you looked at your reflection and smiled big, you decided it was enough to not show the pain you were in right now

girl im hurting for you

you peeked out of the bathroom door and saw the coast was clear so you quickly ran to your classroom, which was thankfully empty, and quickly grabbed your things

but as you were packing up, the tears just kept falling

it didnt stop as you bolted down the stairs, using your cardigan to hide your face from the public

once you were safely out of school grounds, you finally took out your phone and reviewed through all the worried and concerned texts from the team group chat

but you just replied, ‘im fine but i just feel really sick right now. girl stuff’

you smirked, knowing that would keep the boys away

but oikawa had to go and ask you to call him

‘y/n-chan! do you want oikawa-senpai to come over with chocolates and ice cream?! wings or no wings?!’

your jaw dropped at the question and clearly scandalized by the question

the team was too as shouting began and you could faintly hear iwa scream, ‘oh my god, shittykawa!’

‘im seriously okay, oikawa-san. i just need to be alone right now and ill try and get some sleep. good bye’

then you hung up

there was no way you could tell them

they were in their last year anyways so doing something about it wouldnt matter

and you were strong

but apparently not strong enough to fight them off though

you would cover the wound with concealer and continue on with practice tomorrow as if everything was normal

but there was only so much you could take

just yesterday, they trashed your locker and a week ago, they took your bento and threw it away

you even got into a fight with this one girl but she scampered away, too scared to do anything alone

so you were actually just tired and want everyone to leave you alone

believe me, youve thought of quitting sometimes

but youve actually created a bond with these boys

like when you take hanamaki to get cream puffs whenever he loses against iwa in arm wrestling

or when yahaba calls you at ungodly hours to express his worries for next year and to fill oikawa’s shoes

it was simple moments that you shared with each player that kept you from not leaving

soon, you found yourself crying again and the looks pedestrians were giving you was starting to make you uncomfortable

a girl, with her gross hair in a bun, puffy eyes with a bleeding wound and walking down the street

that was a sight

so you cut a corner to an alley by your house to escape from the judging eyes and you were too busy wiping your eyes to see a boy who was crouched down on the floor and ended up walking over him

omg my baby kyoken hello luv!!!!

you gasped and you were surprised and quickly apologized

kyotani was originally about to yell at you, no matter what, but he saw the state you were in and concluded you were either from a fight or was beaten up

he recognized that and decided to just glare at you and go back to feeding the stray dogs and cats

you breathed a sigh in relief when he didnt yell at you bc that wouldve been the last thing you needed today

‘sir, im sorry for hitting you. if there is something i could do for you, dont hesitate’

he ignored you and you focused on him paying attention to the strays

going into your backpack, you had a milk carton and a sausage stick from earlier

you used your thermos lid to serve as the milk bowl for the cats while you peeled open the meat and used your scissors to cut chunks of it for the dogs to have some

kyotani watched as you went into action to feeding the animals that people usually ignored

he knew you

well, he recognized you

when he watched from the top of the gym, he saw you as their manager who ran around and helped everyone

sure, he still didnt trust you

but he watched you grin and smile as the animals started to eat

‘im in a hurry right now so i have to go but ill feed you again tomorrow, okay? you too, stranger-san. ill bring food for you too’

then you stood up and ran away, probably in a hurry to fix that wound

he wouldve offered to treat it for you but he remained silent, watching the cats mewl at the now empty lid

the next day, oikawa was worried for you and when he saw you at early morning practice, he practically glomped to your side

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

to this day, no one still knew what happened to you

you kept it quiet and you were sure you got everything handled

except for one person

kyotani was smart and for some reason he knew you got beat up by the fangirls and the perpetrators were easily found bc he saw them huddled around your locker, probably trashing it again, and lets just say,

no one is def going to mess w you now

back to manager moments!!

during practice matches, the boys rally around you to prevent other teams from sweet-talking you

they make sure no one gets past them and always have excuses to get your attention

you knew what they were doing but you pretended not to, heart warming at their protectiveness and hunger for your attention

even though you have your own jacket, the team gives you theirs all the time like oikawa has his special team jacket w his name at the back and when he feels threatened by schools like johzenji, he makes you wear it

‘youre mine, y/n-chan and i want that blondie to know’

‘ehm, no, oikawa-san. im iwaizumi-san’s’

oikawa screamed

lmao training camps w them is CHAOTIC

YOU WANT TO CRYYYYYY

OIKAWA IS CRYING BC IWAIZUMI IS BEATING HIM UP, MATSUHANA ARE FREAKING OUT THE FIRST YEARS ABOUT THE GHOSTS IN THE WOODS AND NOW KINDAICHI REFUSES TO LET GO OF YOU, WATARI GOT LOST GOING TO THE BATHROOM AND YAHABA IS SCREAMING ABOUT THE WEATHER MESSING UP HIS HAIR AND MAKING IT FRIZZY

reminder: threaten to quit everytime they get too much

your hugs are the best!!!!

you have a special hug for every player

oikawa gets his favorite which was the normal arm around the waist with your arms around his neck while he snuggles in your neck

iwa gets flustered easily so you hug him from behind so you cant see his flustered look

mattsun actually likes the jumping in the air so he catches you type of hug

makki is more tame and has his arms around your shoulder with his chin on your head

yahaba is the twirly kind where he just picks you up and swings you around

watari also gets flustered easily so he likes the one-arm hugs

kindaichi gets blushy at the slightest touch from you but he gives you a hug from behind you himself where he can bury his face in your hair while you caress his arms

kunimi, now he likes it when you squeeze him extremely tight bc it makes him feel loved and feel alive

kyo doesnt even talk to you what makes you think you can give him a hug

their lost for shiratorizawa really broke them though

you made them their own bentos for nearly a week to keep them encouraged and gave oikawa extra attention to keep him from sulking or practicing late

‘oikawa-senpai, lets go watch that new movie later’

‘S-S-SENPAI?!’

then the arrival of our baby kyoken

yahaba was moody the whole practice and you were currently trying to keep him from spiking a ball to someone

‘even just today, he’s late’

‘who?’

‘that stupid dog’

he just keeps mumbling and grunting

and then the said dog arrived

you peaked out from behind iwaizumi, who protectively went in front of you

shock ran through you and you pointed at him

‘puppy-kun!’

lmao puppy what

youve called him that since he refused to tell you his name, but you call him that bc he paid special attention to this one baby beagle

he raised a hand in greeting and you gave him a smile

‘youre a player here, too?!’

he ‘glared’ at you but nodded stiffly

the team really thought that he would lash out at you but he is surprisingly tolerant

the power of the manager

he still hasnt talked to you but he does respond to you and even helps you with chores, still not talking ofc

hes so tsun tsun and he deserves my heart yall

however, youve heard him talk to iwaizumi, and iwaizumi only, so youve heard his voice before

ngl, you were flustered by how gruff and deep it was

then their loss to karasuno

bruh, it was KARASUNO

the entire team fell apart and after the match, each of them ran away from you to stop lashing out

you were also on the verge of crying, seeing the broken look on your third years

your precious third years

you decided to give them their own space but you heard a loud banging sound from the bathroom

yahaba and watari were outside, clearly trying to talk to someone in there on coming out but it got louder

okay you were lowkey like, ‘hm, i should not be here’

but you recognized that voice

you knocked at the boys door to be respectful

‘kyo-san? its me, y/n’

he was silent but he did unlock it

you took this as a sign to enter and you gave yahaba and watari a smile

‘i’ll be fine. go to kindaichi and kunimi. they need your comfort right now’

tbh, you were surprised the bathroom was still intact but you saw the stall door at the very end being rattled and shaken

you remained by the door but you wanted to go to him

‘kyo-san, please come out so i can treat your injuries’

he expected you to say those words like ‘its okay’ or ‘theres always next year’ but you didnt

instead, you knew he was hurt and wanted to help him

he continued to give a few punches to the wall and the door before emerging

you wordlessly treated the wounds and offered your hand

‘im here, kyo-san. dont worry, im right here’

at the ramen shop, you told them to eat as much as they want and wordlessly gave them your card, slightly crying inside bc you know this was going to be like over a hundred dollars

but you were treating the boys bc they deserved it

you sat beside kindaichi, who was just sobbing and apologizing, so you were wiping his tears and holding his hand under the table

this precious babie

bruh i was sobbing when i watched this part like uuggghhhh

after dinner, you walked with the other third years, knowing they would go to the gym, so you gave everyone else your special hugs before sending them home

‘text me when you arrive safely, okay?’

‘yes, mom’

‘KINDAICHI WHAT’

oikawa’s speech made you cry bc despite only knowing them for not even a year, you already feel like a family

you didnt want your family to be broken but you knew they would all go their separate ways eventually

there was a big hug pile of third years on the side where you took a picture and sent it to the group chat

you had to eventually go home after helping them clean up and when you checked your phone, a fresh batch of tears rolled down

each from every person on the team but with the same sentence and same words

‘we love you, l/n y/n. thanks for everything.’

ngl i dont think this was that good and its like 8 in the morning and im extremely tired

i want to do karasuno, nekoma, and fukurodani but im so exhausted i cannot right now

2K notes · View notes

shtern-and-art · 3 years ago

Note

"Skeppy will probably cry" "Bad will probably cry". Bish, screw, that I am crying!!!

This whole thing was bloody gorgeous and I wasn't expecting that ending. I had no clue what ending to expect but that was definitely better than any I could have hoped for. Forest spirit to soulmate your honour!

I was terrified that you were gonna leave it at the point where he loses the spirit and becomes mortal again. If you had I would be actively sobbing!!!! And oh my god, the art!!! I still can't get over how wonderful your style is.

Imma ask fun things because if I don't I'll sit in a puddle of emotion all night:

What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it? Poor Skeppy trying to answer 101 questions about something he doesn't really use XD.

Is no one concerned that the odd couple from a town they never name has a pet wolf??

Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while. Find hidden creeks and befriend bears?

Does Bad still have a connection to nature and animals, like are creatures naturally more trusting of him?

Do they ever visit the og town again?

Does Skeppy still cause absolute chaos in other towns or has he learnt his lesson and only causes minor trouble now?

Does Bad ever try and study again? If he did what would he study and would Skeppy try to study as well?

Does Skeppy steal? I dunno, he just give off the vibe of a naughty lil trickster who'll pocket something if the owner refuses to sell it him.

Immediately after leaving the forest what the first 'argument' they have (not including the car one)?

Would they ever ride horse? If yes, how terrified would Skeppy be?

Skeppy falls outta tree. I don't know why but my mind keeps telling me that this man has great balance until he climbs trees. They are his mortal enemy and Bad finds this both hilarious and terrifying because he is going to hurt himself.

I had waaaaay more questions than I intended to have. My bad '^_^ but this story was way too much fun to read and you are entirely to blame for making it so engaging!

Make sure to take care of yourself and do stretches after and during drawing. You don't wanna hurt yourself <3

AaaaI’m so glad you liked it! :D And, dang, man, I cried while writing that part too :D

And I promised a nice ending for the main story, I did, and this one also makes the most sense narratively! For the story I wanted to tell, at least. Bad can’t really become human again, he’s changed to much. He can only move on, and do something with what he is, and has. And he did! :D That’s really nice and inspiring, this story will always have a place in my heart, heheh <3

Being a guardian spirit connected to a person and all, Bad may be not as strong as before, but he can’t die unless Skeppy dies first. And Skeppy can do that, but he’s pretty sturdy, and his lifespan operates on a whole other scale than human ones. And Bad knowing Skeppy’s real name balances it all out, makes them equal in the power and influence they have over each other.

So hellyeah, soulmates for the win :DDD

I’ll answer all questions under the cut, and this close up from one of the pages!

1) What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it?

Probably a pager! Because it’s a more feasible thing to get than a wholeass computer Bad actually wanted :D An it means Skeppy will have to get one too, and that Bad will be having the time of his life texting him and everyone he can get a number from, even if they’re still in the room with him.

Poor Skeppy indeed, he can learn to appreciate the pagers, and later phones, too, and computers, but he really has 0 idea on how it all works and why Bad is so fascinated by it all.

2) Rat and regular people

Oh, she can shapeshift, just like Bad! If they’re out with people around, she takes form of a puppy, and Bad can pass her off as a weird mix breed rescue doggo.

3) Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while?

Oh, since they have no end destination in mind, they can ride around for a bit, go visit some cool places and roadside attractions. Sadly, Skeppy is probably not spiritually or morally ready to full on befriend wild bears yet, and they do need money for gas and snacks. So, at some point they will have to stop somewhere and find work – at least for a bit, to save up. Life’s gonna be a bit complicated with all that, until Skeppy figures out his treasure-finding abilities :DD

4) Bad and nature and animals

He is definitely still in tune with all wildlife! Even more – Bad could become a proper guardian spirit for Skeppy in part because, in a way, Skeppy himself is part of the nature.

So yeah, Bad can understand animals (and plants) and communicate with them; they’re just more free to not take his shit, and Bad’s emotions do not “possess” them unless he makes an effort to do so.

He doesn’t like doing it, tho.

5) Do they ever visit the og town again?

Hm, I think they will completely forget about it for a while, until, like, 30+ years later they will be going somewhere, and find themselves around those parts. And they try to not appear too often in the areas they’ve spent a lot of time in already (they can be pretty recognizable, and also barely show signs of aging). But it’s been a long time, and the town’s really different now… So they make a stop, and spend a day there. They walk the unfamiliar streets between the new buildings, check out the popular hiking trail, the advertisements for hot springs and winter activities. The old cinema is still there, and is hosting an all-night marathon of classic horror movies of the last century.

Bad and Skeppy leave the town after sunset – the day was nice, but they have nothing more to do there. They ride through the forest on a well paved road, with radio playing something barely above the whisper. And in the dark of hot summer night, Bad can see the white stag running between the trees alongside their car. Shadows dance over the shimmering light of it’s fur.

Somewhere after the towns border, the stag disappears back in the forest. But the air in the car stays light and fresh, saving the smell of old pines and dry leaves all though the night.

6) Skeppy and chaos

Well, after the whole mess in the main story, Skeppy definitely learned some lessons, especially about not being a dick :D

But the thing is – he can’t really help the fact that things tend to stir up around him a lot. He naturally brings in chaos into everything, because he is, in part, a personification, or an outlet for it in the world. And so, to feel, well and good, and himself Skeppy gotta do stuff that disrupts balance, and creates some mayhem. And in gave him a lot of trouble in early life, but in the course of the main story he learned that he can chose were he lets that chaos to take hold, learned what can come of that chaos, apart from utter misery.

Like, where it can help dismantle something destructive, and where – bring in the more positive change, that was already brewing, possible, but is stagnant for some reason.

Soooo, I can’t say Skeppy causes only minor chaos in his life, but he sure learns even more about not being a dick :DDDD

7) The studying

I think Bad will want to get a higher education at some point, because he wanted to, and because it’s already new millennia and all that. Bet he’ll go for something very technical and/or literature. Maybe he’ll start by piking up some classes in small time colleges, when they stop in one place for a while, and later get into an online program, because why not.

Skeppy is not a college guy at all. He’ll listen to Bad talk about it, read textbooks if he wants to, can research stuff, buuut going to classes and doing homework is definitely not his thing.

8) Stealing

Well, you’re right, Skeppy can and will steal stuff out of spite! And will be scolded by Bad for it, and will not feel (that) sorry about it. But real stealer between them will be Bad himself :D

It’s just… he has the corvid tendencies, and a hoard (a box) of sentimental mementos from different people and events, and the thrill of stealing something small and harmless is very exciting. Bad is very proud of his little collection. Skeppy finds it very adorable, a bit hypocritical, and kinda creepy. Like, that pretty box he gifted Bad at some point is now full of stuff like:

- pressed flower from the clearing they had a picnic at on their anniversary

- the button the waitress lost that one day the storm caused a black out in the whole town

- some small animal bones

- couple pretty rocks Bad stole from Skeppy’s pockets

- penny that was once glued to the ground

- a handful of teeth people (and not people) lost in fights with Bad

- pen from some fancy hotel

- rainbow dash keychain that belonged to a child

- the list goes on

9) Argument

Oh, that same day they’ll fight over whether they should stay at the really crappy and suspicious looking motel, or go sleep in a perfectly fine forest near the road. Ironically, Bad wanted to try out the motel (because, yay, first time spending the night back in civilization), and Skeppy was the one insisting on sleeping in nature (because the motel looks like it could give you 10 diseases if you even stand near it, and sleeping in the forest is kind of nice, and means they can cuddle).

10) Horses

The guys will probably ride them at some point. Well, Bad will ride, and Skeppy will sit on his horse and hope it knows what to do and where to go, because trying to make this giant thing do something seems dangerous. If they’ll have to actually go somewhere fast, Skeppy will not survive that day, his butt (and legs) will be dead for days to come.

And riding with Bad on one horse may sound romantic and nice, but all romance dies when the gallop starts.

11) Skeppy and climbing

Skeppy is more down to earth kind of guy, more of a “rocks and caves” kind of creature, real-life lizard person or something. Up on the trees and in the air – not really his element, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that Skeppy will accept this fact easy. The embarrassment of never managing to safely make it down a tree is too strong, he just has to do it all over again, and again. And again. Because, clearly, he was distracted this time. And the time before that Bad was teasing him, and it “disrupted his flow”. And, really, maybe these trees here just do not like Skeppy much, and make him slip a lot. Yeah.

So, more often than not, if Skeppy climbs a tree, he will not stop climbing it until he falls, or the tree ends. Bad had to take him off high branches couple times, forcefully, because, of course, Skeppy was sitting there for 2 hours just to properly enjoy the sunset. He can climb down at any point, he just Choses not to. The view is amazing. The bark is literally part of his skin now, not because he holds on tight, no, he’s just Than Much one with the nature )<

---

Don’t apologize for the questions! It’s always so fun to answer them, and it makes me think more about stuff I may have skipped, or didn’t think about before. It’s really nice :3c

Again, thank you for the ask, and for being here for this story! <3

(And I’ll try setting timers for rest breaks while I draw, mb that will help)

---

In The Dark - masterpost

#mcyt #mcyt fanart #badboyhalo #skeppy #skephalo #In The Dark #it's so hot here #my laptop's keyboard is like a stove #=c=#shtern talks

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aliwritesfic · 3 years ago

Text

Night Shift Part 3 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Yours and Frankie’s weekends take very different turns

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Emotionally abusive relationship, very brief mention of drug use, drinking, T*m D*vis makes an appearance

Part 1 Part 4

Frankie slept better that week than he had in months. Every night was long, uninterrupted, mercifully dreamless sleep. The diner had done exactly what he had hoped. When he awoke that Saturday afternoon, he felt better than he had in ages. He hummed while he rummaged through the refrigerator, grabbing out some leftover padthai and throwing it in the microwave.

Each night that week, a routine between you and him had formed. You’d work, barely exchanging words until the dinner rush was completed, then you’d make him a coffee and he’d make you something to eat. You’d requested something different each night, and each night you’d spoken to him a little more. Some nights you were in a better mood than others, but he quickly realised it wasn’t personal against him.

He found he was a little disappointed when he woke up that afternoon and remembered that it was his day off. If he was being honest with himself, he’d grown to enjoy your company. Something about you intrigued him, made him want to get to know you more.

Frankie spent getting stuff together for poker night with the boys. It was his turn to host, so all he had to do was make sure that his dining room table was clear and his portable speaker was charged.

While he got ready, his mind kept wandering back to you.

He thought of the way you had a different smile for certain customers. The truly genuine one was reserved for only a select few of your favourites. He felt himself hoping that one day you’d give him one of those smiles, instead of the one that didn’t really reach your eyes and disappeared quickly.

He thought of how when the diner was quiet, you’d lean against the counter and sip your coffee, your gaze firmly out the window.

He thought of how when your shift ended and you checked your phone, your face would change for just a fraction of a second before you’d say goodbye and rush out the door.

Jesus fucking Christ, he thought, do I have a crush?

Frankie hadn’t had a crush since high school, when he had finally had the guts to ask out Portia Inglewood. That relationship had lasted until he left the military, and brought all the emotional baggage with him.

A loud banging on the door knocked him out of his thoughts.

“Cat!” Benny didn’t wait for Frankie to open the door. “We’re here, and we have beer!”

“You know where it goes,” Frankie called back.

Santi grinned at his best friend and handed him a beer. “How’s the new job?”

“It’s exactly what I need right now,” Frankie told him. Santi nodded in understanding. They all had their own ways of dealing with what they carried. “Plus, the extra cash doesn’t hurt.”

Frankie didn’t want money - he had plenty from when he’d do private jobs with Santi. If he ever became desperate, he knew he could just join Santi on his next job.

“Well, extra cash or not, I’ll always be the hottest person you’ve ever worked with,” Santi winked, making Frankie roll his eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, man.” Frankie laughed.

The night progressed in a haze of pizza and beer and poker. Will lost money to Tom, and Tom promptly lost it all to Benny. Santi told the group about the new girl he was seeing, some French expat over stateside for a few months. Benny double checked everyone was coming to the fight next weekend. Tom revealed that he and the girls were moving to Ohio to be closer to Molly’s parents. The boys promptly began planning a going away party, which would basically just be another poker night but with more beer and possibly a cake.

Any worries Frankie held seemed to melt away on nights like these. At one point, he briefly wondered what you were doing and if you were thinking of him too. Yep. Definitely a crush.

~*~

You didn’t like Kurt’s friends. Unfortunately, you were stuck spending your Saturday night with them crowded in your apartment, loud and disrespectful as hell. It didn’t matter to them that you’d asked time and time again could they please go outside to smoke, could they please put their beer bottles in the recycling bin, could they please not use your nice plates to do coke on.

If your grandfather could have seen you now, he would’ve called you a push-over. You hated that you had become this person - afraid to stick up for yourself in your own home. Hell, you didn’t even know at what point you’d become this person. It just seemed to happen over the five years you’d been dating Kurt.

You had lost yourself in trying to be what he wanted.

With a sigh, you sealed yourself away in the bedroom with a bag of Doritos and your phone, wishing you could call your grandfather. You still had his number in your phone. Occasionally, you’d look at it, the numbers seared into your brain.

Instead of calling the now disconnected number, you settled for messaging Sara. She was one of your only remaining friends from high school, and knew as much about your feelings as you were willing to let on. The thing was, you knew what she would say if you told her how you felt every single day. How lost, how hopeless you felt. She’d tell you to leave, forget Kurt and all the years with him, but to you it wasn’t that simple.

Part of you still loved him, despite everything, and that part remained hopeful that you and Kurt could fix the fractures in your relationship. Plus, a voice in the back of your head told you he was right when he said he was the only one who could ever love you.

Being alone, unloved, was one of your deepest fears.

This was one of the nights you actually missed being at the diner. You missed the lemon scented countertops, the radio that seemed to be permanently set on the oldies station, hell, you even missed Frankie and his amazing food. He’d been working with you less than a week but he had already wedged himself into your stomach. But, it was just two more nights until you were back there. It struck you that this was the opposite of how most people thought. No one you knew actually wished to go back to work.

It was almost dawn when you were woken out of your half sleep by Kurt stumbling into the room.

“Baby,” he slurred, crawling into bed beside you. “Baby, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mumbled, moving over so he could fit in the bed easier. He reeked of sweat and booze.

“I’m sorry,” he planted a sloppy kiss on your neck. “I really try to be good.”

“I know,” you ran your fingers over his head. He liked his hair cropped short, in an almost military like style. “I try too.”

“Can we go back to how we were?” Kurt continued kissing you, his hands moving drunkenly over your body. You bit back a sigh, knowing where this was heading.

You decided it would be easier to let him do what he needed, despite how badly you wanted to sleep. The only saving grace was you knew Kurt would only last a couple of minutes before it would be over.

~*~

“So, what’s the new guy like?” Manny asked. You were seated outside, at one of his favourite cafes. The sun shone down warmly on you both, brightening your mood.

“I like him, I think,” you said. “He’s nice, quiet.”

“And pretty cute, right?” Manny wriggled his eyebrows.

“I hadn’t noticed,” you lied. Of course you had noticed. It was impossible not to notice.

“Don’t feed me bullshit, I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Ugh, fine. He’s good looking. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s the thing lover, it only means something if you want it to.” Manny took a conspiratorial sip of his drink. “And I didn’t get a gay vibe from him.”

“Oh good, because the only thing holding me back from jumping his bones in the kitchen is that I didn’t know his sexual preference.” You rolled your eyes, deciding to quickly change the subject. “Anyway, how’s the new job?”

“I’m loving it!” Manny lit up. “Everyone says teenagers are the worst group to teach, but it’s like they forget middle school exists.”

You smiled at Manny’s happiness. It thrilled you to see someone you considered your best friend so happy. If anyone deserves the whole world, you thought, it’s him. But he wasn’t going to let you change the subject that easily.

“You know, maybe you could invite Frankie to one of our lunches,” Manny said slyly. “It could be a night crew thing.”

“That would mean inviting the weekenders,” you reminded him. Manny held a grudge against the weekend crew, but you could never figure out why.

“No, weeknight crew only. Come on, lover, it could be fun! Plus, I want to get to know my replacement a bit better. Make sure I’m not handing the spatula to someone I don’t approve of.” Manny pouted and switched on his puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll ask,” you conceded, “but don’t be surprised if he says no. The man probably has a life.”

“It can’t hurt to ask though, and I will bother you about it until you have an answer.”

“What are you planning?” You knew that look all too well.

“Just on making a new friend,” Manny said innocently. “Lover, you can never have enough friends.”

At that moment your phone buzzed with a text from Kurt.

Where r u?????

You grimaced and sent a quick reply, hoping it wouldn’t lead to what it usually did.

At lunch with Manny from work. I’ll be home in a couple hours, do you want anything?

“Why don’t you just break up with him?” Manny asked, watching you carefully.

Is he the gay 1?

Yes, you met him and his husband last year.

“It’s complicated,” you said. You didn’t have anywhere to go. You were terrified of being alone. Part of you still felt like you could salvage what you had. The one and only time you had tried to break up with him, he had threatened to kill himself if you left.

“You deserve better than that,” Manny said. You remained silent, not sure if he was right. “You’ve been unhappy for ages now.”

“I’m happy!” You protested.

“No you aren’t. Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re miserable with that douche bag, even James agrees.”

“I haven’t seen James in months! How the hell would he know!” You were getting defensive, but you still managed to keep your voice lowered.

“Lover, I talk that man's ear off every chance I get. Because I love him. Because he likes to hear me talk about my day and the people important to me.”

“I’m important to you?”

Manny rolled his eyes and threw his napkin at you. “Of course you are, you’re a sister to me. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“What subject!” You scoffed.

“The subject of you for some reason wanting to stay in a relationship with a man who makes you miserable,” Manny’s voice softened and he gently held one of your hands. The gesture almost made you tear up with its gentleness. You merely shrugged.

“Like I said, it’s complicated.”

Manny nodded. “Just please think about it, for real. I couldn’t sleep at night if I never said anything to you about it.”

The walk home was slow, you took your time to sort out your scrambling thoughts. Manny had offered to drive you, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the sunshine. You pushed the issue of Kurt to the side, knowing either way the outcome would be the same unless you magically grew a spine and a few extra zeros in your bank account.

Instead, you thought about Frankie and how best to ask him to Sunday lunch. Honestly, if there was going to be a night shift tradition, it just felt downright rude to not at least extend an invite. And if Frankie said yes, well, that was even better. It was like Manny said - an opportunity to make a new friend. Just a friend.

So why did your stomach flip at the thought?

Tagging @hnt-escape if you’d also like to be tagged just let me know <3

#the night shift #frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #slowburn #diner romance #friends to lovers

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jean-kayak · 4 years ago

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Chapter 14

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: really this chapter is just fluff, underage drinking (reader is 20), Eren being a huge SIMP and SAP, reader gets a little tipsy, suggestive like once bc its Eren

Word Count: 3408

A/N: This one is not even close to being as long as the next chapter, but yeah, I really went in on the fluff and cuteness on this lmao enjoy

Tags: @iwascrybaby, @germinvasion, @styxtm, @prxttyguardian, @bigdaddyzawa, @erensblackgirlfriend, @kbbvbz, @tomsadversary, @pettyluxury, @protectpancakes

Chapter Summary: A mini vacation makes Eren come to a stark realization

Playlist for this Chapter:

1. While We're Young- Jhené Aiko

2. Morning Glory- Kehlani

3. Normal Girl-SZA

4. Off The Grid- Alina Baraz ft. Khalid

You raise your eyebrows when he tells you that you need a pack a bag, and you frown at him in suspicion, but he doesn't even blink at you as he goes back to whatever he was doing.

Your parents weren't home at the time you were leaving, so you just told them that you were hanging with Ymir for a couple of days, Jean wasn't going to be home, and you were going to be back before him, so you figured you didn't need to tell him anything.

So Eren decides to leave late at night on Friday, and ten minutes later he texts you that he's outside, and then he's driving down the street and to who knows where. You yawn widely, tears forming in your eyes, and you wipe them away as you notice that you've been driving for more than thirty minutes.

"You taking me somewhere in the country or something?" you ask, seeing that you don't recognize your surroundings anymore.

He chuckles as he reaches over to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "I told you. It's a surprise, it's about a couple hours away."

You roll your eyes when he tells you it's a surprise but nod anyway even though that still doesn't tell you exactly where you're going, and he huffs when you say you're going to go to sleep for the rest of the ride, and as you doze off, you feel his lips on your hand.

You feel something shaking your shoulder, and you breathe in deeply as you peel your eyes open, looking around to see you're in a parking lot. "Where are we?" you ask with a yawn, looking ahead of you to see a big building about two stories tall.

"Furniture store." You frown, turning your head to look at him.

"A furniture store? Why?"

"Wanted to change up my apartment," he answers, getting out the car and you follow.

"And why did I have to come?" you ask, meeting him on his side of the truck as he locks it.

"To get you some practice, since you wanna do interior design. You can use my apartment as a project or something." You feel your face heating at the thought, and you mask it with a scrunch of your nose.

"You're a dork." He smirks softly as he wraps his arm around you, walking you towards the building.

"Only for you."

The automatic doors slide open, and the place is pretty huge, but not big enough where you feel like you might be lost, and you let him lead you whichever way. "Okay, so what do you start with?" he asks you, stopping at the living room section, and you shrug.

"Colors, I guess," you admit, looking at the different couches. "What's your favorite color?" you ask, absentmindedly running your hand over the back of an armchair.

"Any color that you look good in." You roll your eyes as you scoff, turning to look at him.

"Which is?"

"Everything." You chuckle as you push at his chest lightly, almost thinking it's a lost cause until he speaks up again. "I don't know. Dark green, maybe?"

You nod as you look at the different furniture. "Okay, that's a start. And sometimes, I look at how big you want something to be depending on what you want to use it for. So, for example, how big would you want your couch to be?"

"Big enough for us to have sex on." You drop your head as you scoff, having trouble fighting the smile off your face.

"You're insufferable." You're pretty sure Eren makes you walk through the entire store, looking at stuff that you know he doesn't even own, and you notice that he keeps asking you if you like certain things or not.

"Why does it matter if I like it or not? It's your apartment," you add, and he busies himself with pulling the drawers open on a desk while he keeps his other arm wrapped around your waist. He mumbles something that you don't catch, but you don't get to ask because he's pulling you somewhere else.

You're almost out of the place when your eyes land on the prettiest coffee table you've ever seen. You gasp in surprise, stopping in your tracks and walking towards it, pulling Eren with you.

It's a deep mahogany, glass on top, and there's storage for smaller things like magazines or coasters, and it's just right height, you never understood the appeal of coffee tables that are nearly touching the ground. "You like it?" Eren asks you, jumping you out of your trance.

"I love it," you breathe, running your hand over it softly. "But there's literally nowhere for me to put it," you joke, giving it one last look before you start to walk away, and you stop when you realize Eren's not following. "Are we leaving?" you ask, pointing towards the door, thinking that maybe he wanted to look at something else.

But then he's waving you off, walking towards you. "Yeah, let's go."

"You know we just passed the college Jean goes to, right?" you say, your eyebrows raised, and Eren just shrugs as he keeps his attention on the road.

"Yeah, so?"

"So? What if he sees us? He said he had something to do for school," you stress, starting to feel yourself panic a little.

"Don't worry. Seriously, he's not going to find out." He sounds confident, so it calms you a little bit, but that panic is still underlying. He grabs your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm being serious. I already checked beforehand, we're fine."

You nod this time, his words reassuring you as you start to notice the light poles on the street you're driving down are covered in decorations. The further he drives down the road, the more decorations seem to be lining the buildings. "Is there some kind of festival?" you ask, looking around.

Eren shrugs as he pulls the truck into a parking spot on the street. "Let's find out," he says, and you're once again following him out, and when you get out, you can hear music playing. You follow the sound of the music, and you reach what must be the main area because there's suddenly food trucks lining the streets, a bunch of activities to do, and a crowd of people dancing.

They've cut off the whole street for the occasion, and you smile widely as you look around. "I think this is some festival for the town or something," Eren says, remembering hearing something about it before he went back home, and you bounce on your feet excitedly.

"Well, we can't just stand here!" You grab his hand, almost pulling him off his feet as you run towards the thicker part of the crowd. He laces his fingers with yours as you both walk through to look at the different venues and the different food they have.

He nearly buys everything that your eyes linger on for too long, and you firmly tell him to not buy you anything else, to which he just responds with a roll of his eyes, both of you knowing that he's still going to do it.

He watches you fondly when you get excited about the face painted, but he denies it when you say that he should get one. "Oh, come on, you have to get one," you urge, feeling the paint on your face starting to harden.

The person who did yours tells you that you could paint on Eren's face and that only makes you more excited. You force him to sit down on the bench as you look through the options, grabbing his wrist when he tries to sneak away.

"Just pick one, please?" you say, and he gives you a warm look as he smiles softly.

"Fine." He gives in, and you grab the brush excitedly. "Anything yellow," he responds when you ask him what he wants.

"Why yellow? Because I look good in it?" you tease, picking out something that's easy for you to draw.

"It's the color you picked on the fortune teller." You freeze, looking up at him, before smiling softly as you dip the paintbrush in the paint.

"You remember that?" you ask shyly, and he would nod, but you're already starting to paint on his face.

"Of course I do. It's the first time I talked to you." He huffs softly when he sees you shy away again before you focus on the flower you're drawing. He chuckles softly as he watches you stick your tongue out in concentration, and you pull away with a frown.

"Why are you laughing at me?" you ask, grabbing his chin to angle his cheek closer towards you.

He moves before you can turn his face, pecking a kiss on your nose. "Because you look cute." You shake your head, feeling your face flush warm before grabbing his chin again and moving his head where you want it.

"Okay," you sigh when you finish, putting the brush down, and you hold the mirror up for him to see what it looks like, and you put your head on the side of it. "Do you like it?" you ask impatiently, and he nods as he stands, pulling you up with him.

"Yeah, it looks good for someone with no art skills," he jokes, making you roll your eyes but you laugh anyway, and you both walk away as he takes out his phone.

You peek over his shoulder, not realizing he opened the camera app, and he plants his lips on your cheek that doesn't have paint on it, snapping the picture, and he locks his phone before you can see it. You're trying to convince him to let you see it, both of you walking closer to the music, and suddenly you're being pulled into the dancing crowd.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, but then you notice a kid grabbing your hands, and you laugh instantly as you start dancing, blending into the crowd, but to Eren, you're the only one he sees.

And huh.

Is that what this feels like? He's always seen it in movies, read it in books, but he's never experienced it like this, the feeling so strong. He unlocks his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he looks over the picture, the biggest grin on his face before he looks back up at you.

You look like you're having the time of your life, and he realizes that he's fallen so far, so fast in so little time. He feels like he's living in some kind of movie, and he always thought it was unrealistic to feel this way about you in a short amount of time, but the longer he looks at you, the more he believes that it's more than possible.

And he looks back down at his phone, making the picture his lock screen.

"Let me have some more," you whisper, and Eren rolls his eyes as he scoffs, checking to make sure the coast is clear before handing you his glass.

"Woah, woah," he says when you take a huge sip of wine, taking the glass out of your hand. "Ease up will you," he chastises, setting the glass on the stool next to the both of you.

"I have to get as much as I can before they see me," you respond, having trouble hiding your giggles as the alcohol fills your system.

The festival had started to die down, and he saw a sign for wine and art. He knew they weren't going to let you have any, but he was having a hard time denying you, and now he scoffs at your tipsy state. "We're supposed to be painting," he responds, grabbing the paintbrush.

"Well, what are we drawing?" you say, your words slurring just a bit, and he shrugs as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

"Whatever you want," he says, adjusting the both of you on the stool you're sitting on. He was surprised the both of you could fit on it, but he only took that as an excuse to hold you. "How about four flowers?"

Your eyebrows crease before you turn to look at you. "Why four?" He smiles at you, and you feel like you should know the answer, but you can't think of it. "The fortune teller?" you try, and he nods, making you roll your eyes.

"Why are you such a sap?" you reply playfully, and he laughs softly before putting the brush in your hand, then putting his hand on top of yours. He guides your hand over the canvas as you start painting. "How'd you know that these are my favorite?"

"Lucky guess." It's the flowers you had in your hair at the wedding.

You frown at him again, but go back to painting anyway, the strokes not as clean due to a variety of reasons, but the outline comes out good, and he helps you color them in.

He lets you have one last sip before he tells you that you're not getting anymore, and you frown but listen anyway. "Why aren't you drinking?"

"Because I'm driving," he replies lamely, and you nod softly as your mouth falls open.

"Oh. You're so responsible."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks," he says dryly.

You both finish your painting around the same time everyone else does, or rather people are starting to get less incoherent, so they can't focus on painting, and Eren takes the canvas, leading you out of the gallery with an arm around your waist.

"I'm so full and tired," you whine, your steps a little wobbly, and he chuckles as he carefully puts the canvas in the backseat before helping you in.

He starts driving away and about ten minutes in, he realizes you're really quiet, so he assumes you've fallen asleep, but then you gasp, making him jump out of his skin and almost swerve off the road.

"What the fuck--"

"A drive-in movie, we have to go!" you yell, probably a little bit more loudly than you needed, pointing out the window, and he looks to see an empty lot with cars and a giant movie screen.

He finds himself already slowing down and turning into the lot without even thinking about it, backing in so that you can watch the movie from the bed of the truck. He gets out first, letting the tail down so that he can set up some of the blankets he still has in his truck before helping you up, your steps shaky as you get in.

He lays down first, and you follow, and he chuckles as you instantly grab a blanket, wrapping yourself up before you lay on him. "Don't fall asleep, this was your idea," he speaks up when he hears you go quiet again, and you shift slightly.

"M not sleep. I'm just tired," you mumble, making him huff fondly.

The movie that's playing is something he's never seen before, and he's actually pretty focused on it when he feels you moving, and he just assumes that you're trying to get comfortable.

"Eren," he hears you whisper, and he hums to show that he heard you, keeping his focus on the movie.

"What, baby?" he says when you say his name again, and he tears his eyes from the screen to look down at you.

"I want a kiss," you say softly, and he half rolls his eyes before leaning down anyway. "One more." He sighs fondly before leaning down again, cupping your face in his hand, and he pulls away when you try and deepen the kiss.

"You're drunk, baby," he tells you, and you frown as you shake your head.

"No, I'm not," you argue, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Intoxicated," he tries, and you purse your lips as you think.

"Maybe." He huffs again before kissing you on the forehead.

"I'll kiss you again when you're sober." You groan softly in protest, but you don't say anything else as you turn your attention back to the movie.

Eren rolls his eyes when he hears you complain about being tired for the millionth time that night as he guides you into the dark apartment. He leads you to his room, catching you every time you almost fall, and the moment your eyes land on the bed, you're flopping on it face down.

"Hey, you gotta change first," he tells you, dropping your bag on the floor softly, but you groan softly, turning your head so that you can breathe.

"M fine," you argue, and he scoffs as he walks over to you.

"Trust me, you'll want to get changed." You groan as you roll over, unbuttoning your shorts, sliding them down your legs before letting them fall to the floor. You roll back onto your stomach, reaching under your shirt to unhook your bra, maneuvering it out from under you before it joins your shorts on the floor.

"Are you happy now?" you groan, and he rolls his eyes again as he moves back to your bag. You feel the bed dip next to you as he climbs in, but you don't move.

"Can you sit up for me?" he asks, and you sigh, turning your head to look at him. "It'll only take a second."

You sit up slowly as you start to feel a headache coming on, blinking slowly, and you notice that he's putting your bonnet on, and he catches you when you try and lay back down, not letting you go until all of your hair is in it.

"Now you can lay down." He barely gets the words out as your body hits the mattress again, and you get comfortable as you snuggle your face into the pillow, and he notices that you're blinking gets heavier, but you're looking at him.

"What?" he questions softly, running the back of his fingers over your face gently, and you give him a sleepy smile.

"You're really pretty," you mumble, and he huffs in surprise as he feels his face heating up.

"You think I'm pretty?"

You nod as fast as your body can let you, sighing heavily. "You're like...like," you nod again. "Yeah, you're like really pretty." And then you're out like a light.

Your soft snores fill the room, and he finds himself smiling fondly as he watches you sleep, and before he can think, he's slowly getting out of the bed and grabbing his sketchbook. He slides back in the bed, and all of the images from earlier today come flooding into his head and onto the pages.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, filling every last inch of the paper in you, but he can't stop until he's drawn everything. He draws your face when you were concentrating on painting on his face, he draws you attempting to concentrate on the painting even though the wine was making you even more incoherent, and he finds himself smiling for long enough that his face hurts.

When he gets all of those images out of his head, he looks back over at you before starting on the next drawing, chuckling softly at how your face is smushed by the pillow.

And he wonders if it could work between the both of you, but he doesn't know how you feel, and he doesn't want to do anything that will cause you to stop talking to him like you did back then even though he still doesn't know what he did.

But he's scared to ask, and part of him thinks it's the reason for that conflicted look you have in your eyes sometimes, and he wants to ask you what he did so that he can fix it because he doesn't want to hurt you. Not when you mean so much to him.

When he thinks that he's gotten most of the images drawn, and when he's about to run out of room is where he should call it a night, putting the book somewhere you won't be able to find it easily before laying down next to you.

You breathe in deeply, shifting closer to him in your sleep, and he carefully lays you on his chest, and the familiar weight of you puts him to sleep.

|Chapter 13|Masterlist|Chapter 15|

#nothing changed #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x black reader #eren yaeger x black reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction

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thatsgay-writes · 4 years ago

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Korrasami x Reader Part 2

Summary: Telling your kids how you all started dating.

Warning: Light cursing?

Ages in flashback:

Korra: 21

Asami: 22

You: 23

"I wanna know how you and mommy got with mama." You give your son a kiss on the head, "Ok bud, so..."

*Flashback Start*

You and Asami had been dating for 4 years at this point and you had helped her build her company back up. You both had been sending letter to Korra, some were joint letters and some were not. You two were also the only two to get responses. You knew about Asami's not so small crush on the Avatar and had known about it for a while. You both had talked about it and you confessed that you didn't always see Korra in just a friendly way either. You both had planned on telling her about it after everything that happened with Unalaq but knew that she had gone through practically two breaks up within a month and decided to wait. Turns out you waited too long because before you could even blink, Korra was paralyzed and on her way back to the South Pole. Asami kept getting nightmares about that day and what could have happened if Suyin didn't get the poison out. Over the years they did lessen and soon stop happening. When Asami went to talk to her dad the first time, she came back to you crying. She told you how she wanted to forgive him but she just didn't know how and if it was a good idea. You told her that you would stand behind whatever she decided to do and that if she did want to forgive him, to just take it slow.

When Korra did come back you were surprised by her hair. "Wow, I love what you did with your hair." Asami said, standing a few feet in front of Korra. Korra blushed and grabbed her short hair a little. She goes to respond before feeling arms wrap around her from behind, "Korra! Oh my spirits, you cut your hair it's so cute!" You said in excitement before giving Korra a kiss on the cheek, causing her to blush more. She just mumbles a thanks as Asami smirks, seeing the blush you and her caused. With Korra back, you and Asami talked more about finally confessing the feelings you both had been harboring for the Avatar for the past 3 years. But of course something had to happen and next thing you know, you are all fighting for Republic city against a giant machine with a spirit beam.

You had watched as Korra froze water over the robot and Asami's humming bird land on it. You watched at one of the robots hands broke out and was heading towards the humming bird. "No..." you said as you watched in fear as the hand got closer and closer to the humming bird machine. You let out a huge sigh of relief as you watched Asami (You knew it was her because she was on top.) get ejected from the humming bird, until you realized that she was the only one ejected. "Shit." As much as you wanted to go and comfort her immediately, you had a job to do and you wouldn't want her dad's death to be in vain. Your job was to more or less be back up for Korra because the room was too small for all three of you to fight in. When the machine crashed, you followed Korra and Kuvira into the spirit wilds. You were shocked when Kuvira turned the spirit beam on and made sure to help Korra and Kuvira dodge the beam. When the beam got shot right at the three of you, you helped strengthen the sides and top of the air pocket Korra made to protect you all.

When the three of you get sent into the spirit world, you get sent flying away from the other two. You end up landing on a sharp rock and getting stabbed by said rock. You would have just laid there and waited for someone to come find you but you knew that Korra and Kuvira were too occupied with each other and after getting the rock out of you, you were losing blood too fast. Stumbling towards the new spirit portal, you see Korra talking to Kuvira, who finally hangs her head in defeat. "Is it over?" You ask standing a little ways away from the two girls. Korra smiles hearing your voice before turning around and responding, "Yeah, maybe we can all go on a vacation after this." Korra jokes. You smile at her, "Thank the spirits." You say before falling to your knees. "Y/n!" Korra yells running up to and catching you before you face planted. Her expression turns from one of concern to horror after seeing the blood that was soaking your shirt. "Kuvira see if anyone has water! Hurry!" Korra says as she looks around and doesn't see any water. Of course they open a spirit portal in the one place that doesn't have water. "Come on, stay awake. Asami will kill both of us if you die." Korra says as she keeps your head on her shoulder and ties cloth around your wound.

Kuvira rushed out the spirit portal and stumbled forward after tripping on some rocks. She looked up to see Korra's friends standing in a defensive position, ready to attack. "Let Kuvira go or we will fire." Somebody in a mech suit said. Kuvira shook her head, remembering what was happening in the spirit world. "Stand down, this battle is done. But do any of you have water? It's an emergency." Everyone looked at her confused, "Korra's friend is injured pretty badly and where we landed in the spirit world didn't have any near by water." Asami immediately got worried when Kuvira said "Korra's friend". "Y/n!" Asami says out loud before grabbing Kya's hand, knowing she had water on her, and running towards the spirit portal. When she breaks through the portal she almost cries at the sight before her. Korra is sitting on the ground, with her legs open, and has your head on her shoulder and your body laying in between her legs. The wound in your back was very obvious and had bled through the cloth Korra wrapped around it. Kya had rushed forwards immediately and unwrapped the cloth from around your wound, causing you to cry out in pain. That sound finally broke Asami from her trance and she ran forwards.

Asami kneels down next to Korra and notices the shine of tears in Korra's eyes. Asami puts one of her hands on the back of Korra's neck and rubs her thumb back in forth in an attempt to calm her down. She takes her other hand and places it on your cheek, you shift your head a little to push into Asami's hand. "I'm going to do as much as I can but the wound is a lot deeper than it looks. She is gonna need a healing pool to completely heal." Asami nods her head before giving you and Korra a kiss on the cheek before running back out the spirit to get Tenzin to get a bison.

*Time skip to Zhu Li and Varrick's Wedding*

You and Asami sat on the stairs outside looking at the spirit portal. "I can't believe Korra made that." Asami nods her head in agreement, "Only Korra would accidentally make a spirit portal." You chuckle at her statement and hear a playful scoff come from behind you. "You both act like it was on purpose." You and Asami turn to see Korra standing behind you with her arms crossed over her chest and a playful glare on her face. You roll your eyes before slowly moving over to leave space between you and Asami for Korra to sit. You accidentally wince a little as you move causing Korra to rush forward a little. "No, y/n you don't need to move." "It's okay Korra... Asami and I actually need to... talk to you." You say a little nervously, which causes Korra to get suspicious. She sits down slowly before looking between you and Asami. Asami wouldn't meet her eyes and just looked down blushing. Korra turned to look at you, to see you holding a letter to her. She looks at you confused before slowly grabbing it. As she goes to open it, you speak. "This is the last letter Asami and I wrote to you, we just never got the chance to send it." Korra nods her head before focusing on the letter to read it.

(italics is Asami writing and bold is you writing.)

Dear Korra,

I hope your doing better and that you always know you can talk to me and y/n. We heard you're coming back in a couple weeks and are absolutely ecstatic. With that knowledge in mind we decided to not actually send this letter, we thought it would be better for you to read in person. Okay I took over because Asami is way to formal with this stuff. SHE HIT ME! The nerve of that woman I swear. But anyways, I'm going to make this short and simple. I'm in love with you, we're in love with you. Yes, you read that correctly. I can't speak for Asami but I didn't fully realize how deeply I was in love with you until I saw you laying on the ground after Zaheer had poisoned you. I always knew I had an attraction to you and felt more towards you than a friend should but seeing you laying there, almost dead, felt like a punch to the face. You could have died having never known about how much we love you, how much people love you. I would say that after seeing that, that I didn't hesitate to tell you because life is short but you were so broken afterwards and we couldn't put that on you. You needed time to heal and I understood that. My only hope now is that you haven't found somebody in the south pole. Now that y/n is done writing and being annoying, I want to agree with most of what she said. I know we had a rough start, with everything that happened with Mako (his eyebrows though), ignore y/n. But somewhere along the line of going from competition to friends, I realized that you dating Mako wasn't the source of my jealousy, well it was just not in the way most people thought. I wasn't jealous that you were dating Mako I was jealous that Mako got to be the one dating you. He obviously didn't know what he was doing when he broke up with you. I swear if Y/n takes this paper one more time I'm going to hit her again. Anyways, Y/n and I talked and we were wondering if you would be our girlfriend or at the very least go on a date with us.

With love,

Y/n and Asami

Korra's mouth was opened in shock. She was so sure that the letter was a prank or something but when she looked up at the both of you and saw how nervous you both were, she realized that it wasn't. "Both... You... You both love me?" You bit your lip nervously before nodding in response. Asami looked up in concern, "If you don't feel the same way, we can all act like this never happened. We wouldn't pressure you in---" Asami gets interrupted by Korra pulling her in to a kiss. You watch with a giant smile as Asami relaxes into the kiss and returns it. Korra pulls away and turns to look at you, "I can do that now right, I know I should've as---" This time Korra is cut off by you pulling her into a kiss. This time it's Asami smiling as Korra relaxes into the kiss. When you both pull away from each other, Asami speaks. "So I guess that's a yes to our question." Korra blushes and rubs her neck nervously, "Yeah... I love you guys too if that wasn't obvious." You and Asami share a smile before pulling Korra into a group hug. You all sit there for a moment before pulling away. You wrap an arm around Korra's shoulder and hold Asami's hand with the same hand. "So..." You say looking out at the spirit portal. "Y'all want to go on a vacation?"

*Flashback End*

"Whoa! Do you have a scar!?" You chuckle at your sons excitement. "Yeah I'll show y'all before bed tomorrow if you're good for Bolin and Opal tomorrow. That means best behavior." "Okay mom." Your son says with a serious expression, he wanted to see that scar. "You ruffle up his hair before moving to your oldest daughter's bed. "Now, what story do you want to here?"

PREVIOUS /// NEXT

#lok #legend of korra #korrasami #korrasami x reader #korra x reader #asami x reader #female x reader #x reader #female reader #female character

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racetrackhigg · 4 years ago

Text

Hunger Games AU

kinda

thank you so much to @bitchiaintanonymous for helping me with this!!! she wrote all the descriptions of the districts and she helped me figuring out stuff for the characters!

also i wasn’t supposed to make morris’ moodboard, but i didn’t realize until too late- so whoops

please don’t let it flop ive been working on this literally all day akdhsksbw

!!! TW: DEATH (kinda graphic? i mean i say how they died but that’s it), ABUSE, CHILD ABANDONMENT, MENTIONS OF STARVATION !!!

please don’t continue reading if any of those things trigger you

District 1: luxury

They produce jewelry and the people take pride in living there because of it. Most of the people from there are named after expensive material like “Cashmere” and “Glimmer” and as you know, they train and volunteer for the games so they have a higher chance of winning.

Oscar Delancey

Morris Delancey (died)

Morris lived with his uncle and his brother

He had a fairly privileged life, living in the richer side of the district.

However, his uncle was an abusive drunk and he usually took the hits from him to stop his brother from getting hurt

He trained for the games his entire life and eagerly volunteered to be a part of them when he was 17, hoping that if he won it would mean him and his brother could get away from their uncle and have a better life

Sadly, he died during the games by being stabbed in the back by the one and only Jack Kelly

He made 2nd place

District 2: Masonry and Defense.

These people work on weapons for peacekeepers and even have a training center for the peacekeepers, and they also volunteer for the games. It’s illegal for them, but because they’re so buddy buddy with the Capitol, they’re let off. They usually have Ancient Roman and Greek names.

Romeo (victor)

Romeo grew up having a somewhat decent life

Hs mother died when he was young, so he lived with his father and younger sister (who’s only 5 when he goes to the games) (he’s 15)

He trained for the games since he was young, and at first. he wanted to volunteer

However, as the reaping came near, he was starting to regret his decision, especially after overhearing some of his friends talk about the true horrors of the games

His dad threatened to kill him himself if he didn’t volunteer, claiming he would rather have no son at all than one who was a coward

So Romeo was forced to volunteer

Jojo (his mentor) becomes like an older brother or even father figure to him

Jojo de la Guerra (former victor, died)

Jojo lived in the poorer side of the district

He used to work a lot in weaponry to provide for his family Jojo was 17 when he participated in the games, and won

He was 22 when he mentored Romeo

And 23 when he died

He “trained” for the games for years, but unlike Romeo, he never volunteered

By “training” i mean that he was just a sparring partner for people who wanted to volunteer for the games

Because of this, he just picked up different fighting techniques over time

Unlike most people in that district, he hated the games and was not eager at all to be a part of them

He was assigned as Romeo’s mentor

At first, Jojo thought he was just another cocky kid who was overconfident he’d win

But then he actually met him. and realised Romeo didn’t want this

He made it his goal to make sure Romeo would get out of the games alive. After all, he was just a kid.

He was killed by peacekeepers after trying to protect Romeo. Pulitzer wanted to prostitute Jojo, and he refused, so as a warning they went to kill Romeo, but Jojo managed to stop them the cost of his own life

District 3: Technology.

They produce technology and electronics for the Capitol and usually use their knowledge of that in the games. They’re really smart and in the 10th Hunger Games, it’s said that a district 3 tribute hack into a drone that delivered supplies to use for themselves (doesn’t work that great cause they get killed though) but they’re still really smart.

Antonio “Racetrack” Higgins (victor)

Race never met his mother, She died a few days after he was born

So he was raised by his father

When he turned 6, his father started drinking

When he turned 7, he started hiring him

He met a girl named Sarah after trying to steal from her, and instead of reporting him to a peacekeeper, they actually became friends over time (even though Race was 2 years younger than her)

He often went to hide at the Jacobs’ house when things got too bad at home

Just a year after David volunteered, on the next reaping, Sarah’s name was called

So Race volunteered. (he was 16)

The jacobs’ had already done so much for him, and Sarah didn’t deserve to go through that, chances were she wouldn’t come back alive.

Race knew he probably wouldn’t either, but he had nothing to lose. He wouldn’t be leaving any family behind, because the man that called himself his father was not his family.

David was his mentor.

Much like David had before him, Race used parts of traps to make his weapons better, though he mainly used a bow and arrow.

For most of the game, he made a truce with a guy named Albert from district 4, and they became /very/ close.

He was killed by a guy from district 6, Finch, who was also the last person remaining apart from him.

Race killed him by shooting an arrow directly in his heart. It’s the only kill he doesn’t regret so much.

David Jacobs (victor)

David lived with his parents, twin sister and younger brother.

He was especially close to his sister.

His father got sick and died a few years later, when he was 15, so he had to work extra hard to help support his family

When he turned 17, his worst nightmare came true and his younger brother, Les was selected for the games

He volunteered to save his brother, and was determined to make it back alive, wanting his family to have a better life.

He trained a lot in physical combat, since he knew that without at least a somewhat proper training, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

Once in the games, he spent most of his time trying to avoid other people, not wanting to kill anyone else and not wanting to risk his own life.

However, he ended up having to kill a boy from district 10, Mike, to save his own life using a makeshift explosive he made out of parts from a trap he disarmed (or however it’s said).

He wins by tricking the last person left, Itey, into eating poison berries.

He never forgave himself for the lives he took, and it’s something that would always haunt him.

Just a year after that, he became Race’s mentor.

District 4: fishing.

First off, people say that this district had the most “decent-looking” people. As you may have guessed, these people specialize in “aquaculture” It sounds useless, but a character named “Mags” actually won her games because she was the only one able to swim the longest when the arena was flooded. They also use tridents and things like that and volunteer as “Careers” too.

Albert Dasilva (died)

Albert came from the more poor side of the district

He lives with his father, who fell ill a few weeks before Albert was selected for the games.

He’s only 16

He never really trained for the games, unlike many people. He didn’t have the time or money for that.

One of his friends, Sniper, promised to take care of his father while he was gone.

Albert knew he probably wouldn’t be coming back.

Early in the games, he befriended Race, and they survive throughout almost the entire games together.

He knew one of them was going to have to die, but Albert decided to ignore that. He was going to find a way around it.

However, while Race went out hunting, the only other tribute left strangled him to death and stole all their supplies.

He never made it back home to his father.

Sniper (victor)

Sniper was an orphan

Her family abandoned her when she was 5, and she lived in the streets for a short while until a kind man took her in

It was Albert’s father

When she got older, she started working to make her own living

Albert became her best friend, despite being 4 years apart. He became almost like an older brother to her.

Her best friend, almost brother, got sent away for the games and never returned.

Sniper moved back in with Mr. Dasilva to take care of him as he fell ill, and his son was no longer there to take care of him.

He got better, eventually, and was horrified and heartbroken at the news of his son’s death.

A year after his best friend was sent away to die, she got chosen for the games.

She vowed to make it back alive, no matter what.

She learned everything there was to know about the plants of the arena. She was already good at combat.

She won by poisoning the last other tribute.

Much like David, Sniper was never able to forgive herself for the lives she took.

District 5: power.

They specialize in providing power for the Capitol with electricity (they power homes and stuff so not technology like in district 3). They’re pretty smart and they use the coal district 12 mines to generate the power.

Specs

Itey (died)

Itey lived with their parents

They were an only child

Their life was pretty good- at least their family life

They were pretty poor, but still better off than a few other people, so they were grateful for what they had.

They were chosen for the games when they were 15

Their parents prayed Itey would make it back alive, but they knew it was unlikely, since he had no training whatsoever

They were right

Itey almost won, but they were starving, and didn’t know that the berries were poisonous

They came 2nd

District 6: transportation

The tributes shown from here are actually pretty nice and cool. During the 75th Hunger Games the tributes were nicknamed “morphlings” because of their addiction to the drug. The male tribute didn’t do much, but the female tribute sacrificed herself for Peeta and jumped in front of an animal that was trying to kill him.

Finch Cortez (died)

Finch lived with his younger brother

His parents died when he was relatively young (12 years old- his brother was 9) but they managed to scrape by

He started working pretty young to make sure his brother could have a roof over his head and not starve.

He was 17 when he was selected for the games, his brother was only 14

He was terrified, but determined to come back home to his only family

He made it to 2nd place

He was killed by an arrow straight through his heart.

Tbh if Race would’ve known Finch had a family to go home to, he would’ve eaten poisonous berries and let him win

Skittery

District 7: lumber.

They specialize in forestry and wood and paper and all that. They are strong-willed and hard headed, and don’t have many qualms about killing people. but more or less are loyal depending on the situation.

Sean “Spot” Conlon (victor)

Spot was an orphan

Well, kind of

He lived with his parents up until he was 10, when he ran away

They were both abusive and manipulative, and he knew if they kept this up, he’d end up dead

After he ran away, he made friends with a guy his age named Hotshot.

Hotshot had the perfect family. Loving parents and a younger sister.

Honestly, Spot was jealous

But they became quick friends, and Hotshot’s parents let him move in

Hotshot nicknamed him Spot because of the cigarette burns across his arms and back

He was 17 when he was selected for the games

Surprisingly enough, he didn’t think he’d come back

Because as strong and as much of a skilled fighter as he was, there were people out there that had been training for this their whole lives.

However, he managed to win. Had a pretty big kill count too- not because he wanted to, but because a surprising amount of people went after him. He had many good supplies and they wanted them.

The last person left apart from him was Buttons.

He won by bashing his head against a rock and then pushing him off a cliff for good measure.

In his defence, Buttons had tried to push him off a cliff first. Spot just took his chance.

Hotshot

District 8: textiles

Clothing. They fight for what’s right, and we’re actually among the first to rebel against the Capitol and follow Katniss, which, sadly, also made them the second most targeted district (the first being district 12 which was outright destroyed) A leader from district 8 actually became president after Katniss killed this woman named “Alma Coin” (the president of district 13)

Buttons (died)

Buttons lived with her younger brother, Elmer, and their parents

She was only 14 when she was selected for the games

She knew she wasn’t making it back

However, she let her hopes up w hen she was one of the only two left, and was a bit more careless with her actions

This is what led to her the death

Elmer

District 9: grain.

They specialize in grain, and salts. It’s the least mentioned of the districts, there is no known character mentioned from here, and all that is known is that both tributes died in the initial bloodbath

Henry

Smalls

District 10: live stock.

Believe it or not, no one except a crippled boy is mentioned from here. This is the second least mentioned one, it’s only known that a refugee from here told Katniss about district 13 so we can assume they know their rights and wrongs.

Mike (died)

Mike lived with his twin brother and parents

He was 15 when he was selected for the games, and he knew there was no chance he’d make it back alive

He was right, since he was killed by David, after trying to kill him and steal his supplies.

Ike

District 11: agriculture.

Common traits of this district are “dark skin and brown eyes” They are heavily abused by the Peacekeepers and are the most brutal treated ones. Their electric fences are activated 24/7, they have extreme knowledge of herbs and foods. Again, security here is greatly unforced and there are a lot of harsh measures like summary execution. (an execution where someone is accused of something and is immediately killed without a fair trial) It was one of the first districts to rebel, it was their response for what happened to Rue (a former 12-year old tribute who was Katniss’ ally and was killed during the games).

Graves

Rafaela

District 12: coal mining.

This district is divided into housing areas. The Seam is where people who work in coal mines live, and the others are centered around “The Square''. People from The Seam generally have dark hair, grey eyes, and olive skin, and the others have blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. Katniss and Gale are from The Seam whereas Peeta is a bakers son in the town. District 12 is the poorest out of the districts, and starvation is a big issue, and because of this, the Capitol usually bends the rules a little by turning off the electric fence surrounding them so people can go hunt for food for their families or sell their catches to the black market for money. District 12 is known for having only 2 victors in the history of the games before the 74th. A female named Lucy Gray Baird who died before the events of The Hunger Games happened, and Haymitch Abernathy. This is why the district is usually a laughingstock and volunteering for the Games is seen as suicide.

Jack Francis Kelly (victor)

Jack’s parents gave him up at a very young age, when he was only 2 years old

They sent him to live with an old family friend, William Snyder

Snyder was horrible to him.

He constantly abused and starved and neglected him, treated him more like a slave than anything else.

Jack had to balance doing whatever Snyder said and also making his own food and money by working so he could eat

When he was 14, his parents came to visit. He didn’t recognize them, and he didn’t know who they were until the end of the visit- when they were leaving

He was both hurt and furious

Although he was miserable and his life sucked, he did manage to make a friend

Crutchie

He was 3 years younger than Jac k, and his leg was injured beyond repair in a mining accident

When he heard Crutchie’s name at the Reaping, he immediately volunteered

Unlike him, Crutchie had a family. People who loved him.

Jack had nothing to lose

He didn’t expect to come back alive, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Multiple people tried to kill him throughout the game, thinking it as a fun game since he was of the “worse” district

Jack won by killing Morris

He didn’t know he had a brother, if he did, he wouldn’t have done it. Jack didn’t have anything to come back to, Morris did

He found out about this and his situation a day after his victory.

He was horrified, knowing he killed a man that was just trying to help his family.

Jack didn’t have a family. He just took a poor kids only family away.

So he made sure Oscar was away from his uncle and safe

It was the least he could do.

He was never able to forgive himself.

Charlie “Crutchie” Morris

District 13: nuclear weaponry.

Before they were “extinct” they made and built nuclear weapons for the Capitol, but after they tried to rebel, they were bombed and became “extinct”. In reality they lived underground and struck up a deal with the Capitol, that they’d be able to live in hiding, and in return, they would not rain war on the Capitol. Every food ration is cherished in this district and everything is very orderly as to not rouse suspicion. The lifestyle is very strict because of the circumstances. District 13 is the center for the rebellion in the books, and is where Katniss and everyone planned out the war between the districts and the Capitol.

Mush Meyers and Kid Blink

Blink came from district 12

He was an orphan, and his only family, his younger sister, died from starvation when he was 17, soon turning 18

She was only 10

Not even a year later, Blink snuck out of his district, except instead of just going hunting, he ran away.

He narrowly escaped a peacekeeper finding him

After a few days of being completely alone, he ran into Mush Meyers, who (slightly reluctantly) took him into his distract (he got into a shit ton of trouble for that)

However, Blink was allowed to stay.

Eventually, they got together (because we all need some Blush in our lives)

Capitol

Katherine Plumber

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ofaprilflowers · 4 years ago

Photo

- part 2: home? -

warnings: descriptions of injuries, not too detailed.

tags: shout out to my first-ever requested tags, @sista7-7 @softieus and @marrambles yay! Thank you for reading and sorry for the late update TT. Hope you guys enjoy :)

disclaimers: I am not a medical professional, this is all part of my imagination and totally made-up therefore is in no way accurate. If you find any part I could improve on, do tell. I would appreciate the feedback. Other than that, enjoy! <3

previous/next

It took another week for me to finally be discharged. A week of rehabilitation and physiotherapy (which Dr. Hwang said would be continued after my discharge TT). I had lost strength in my extremities and also my sense of balance. This, I found out after almost falling down right on my face when I attempted to climb out of bed for the first time. Almost, well because thankfully, he was there.

My parents had arrived the night I woke up. My mother immediately cupping my face, tears brimming in her eyes while my father just took my hand in his and smiled every time I looked his way.

It felt surreal, honestly. My family and I were close. But we were not exactly the type to be crying and holding each other, or professing our love for each other. We were the laugh-at-each-other’s-life-problems-cuz-I-had-it-worse-than-you type of family. Then again, for me it felt like I was waking up from a long nap, while for them, they didn’t know whether I would make it or not so, fair enough.

Turns out, the accident was pretty bad. My head had to be stitched up and so now there was a nasty gash above my left eye (it was definitely gonna scar but let’s not think about that right now). My arms where full of cuts and scrapes from the broken windshield. My legs and chest, badly bruised. Dr. Hwang said they had healed fairly well in the past two weeks, but I still cringed at how ugly they looked every time I caught a glimpse. He also mentioned that I was lucky not to have sustained any other serious injuries other than my head trauma. I was grateful of course, but losing my memory was deleterious enough.

I woke up every morning feeling confused as to why the heck I was at a hospital and it took a few groggy minutes to remember. Sometimes it took seeing Jaehyun- either curled up asleep on the armchair or standing next to the window with a cup of coffee in hand- for me to come crashing back into reality.

I learnt through my mother- who had attempted to fit the past 2 weeks of my unconsciousness along with the last 6 years into a 2 day crash-course- that Jaehyun was the only one who stayed at the hospital every day and night. My mother had stayed the first week, as my condition stabilised however, she opted to visiting daily. That also depended on whether my father was available to drive her 45 minutes to the hospital from home. You see, my parents were rational people, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt. I mean I was laying unconscious on a hospital bed yet there were still other important stuff to be handled. Well, as they say, life goes on, right? Kind of made me think if I had just hallucinated the tears brimming in her eyes the other day.

While my mother would babble on about looking on the bright side and starting my life again, Jaehyun’s presence was like having a burden be lifted. I know I’ve lived most of our “acquaintence-ship” hating him, but I made a mental note to properly thank him for this in particular. On every occasion that my head felt like it was about to burst from the overwhelming information my mother was flooding me with, he’d interject, naturally bringing her focus to something other than trying to piece me back together. Often times he’d ask her to join him for a cup of coffee, or show her things he was currently working on. I’d close my eyes then and pretend to fall asleep.

“So, you’re saying, I should continue my life ‘as normal as possible’. Meaning?” We (the doctor and I) were currently in his office. By tomorrow morning I was finally leaving. Goodbye to the sanitary, boring hospital, hello to......well, life?

The doctor had explained all the procedures and follow-up appointments that were to come. Both to Jaehyun and I. Then, we talked about going home and that’s when I realised, home had changed. I don’t know how we had avoided addressing it, or maybe I was the only one in denial of it. I mean throughout the week after regaining consciousness, although Jaehyun was there, we barely talked. Mostly because I became a selective mute, and he, well I guess he was respecting my space?

Dr. Hwang had noticed the awkward silence that had passed after he mentioned about going home and quickly changed the subject, calling in a nurse to guide Jaehyun in signing my discharge papers or something. After he left, the doctor didn’t hesitate in putting on what I call his “uncle-face”.

“As normal as possible, meaning that it’s better if you return to your daily routines prior to the accident,” he explained for the nth time.

I fidgeted in my seat. “But, wouldn’t that cause me more distress? It’s a life a barely know.” “Astrid,” he began, straightening his back. “I understand how hard it my be for you to wrap you head around all this. 6 years is a lot. But it is your life. Your experiences and memories throughout that period were real, and you deserve to remember them. You need to give your life a chance.”

Well, damn. He had a point. He should’ve been a therapist instead.

“And, what if my memories don’t come back?” I prodded.

“Well then, at least maybe you’ll learn more about yourself.” Okay, then. Here we go, Astrid.

We live in a loft?!?!

Pretty sure my eyes were bulging out of my head but wow.

Eyes wandering around the space, I tried to take in everything at once. This was certainly NOT what I had expected. This can’t be real right? I must absolutely be dreaming.

“Welcome...home?” Jaehyun said.

My head snapped in his direction, mouth agape. He smiled sheepishly, his infamous dimples popping out, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, his shoulders lifted briefly. He looked like a child, shyly presenting to the world his greatest creation. I almost smiled. Almost.

“You like it?” he asked.

I scoffed. “For real?”

My eyes turned back to the space he had referred to as home. Well, it didn’t feel like home (yet. Remember Astrid we’re giving this a chance), but yes, I absolutely love it!

I took in my surroundings again and this time, couldn’t help the smile that crept up my cheeks.

The space was gorgeous. It was big, but not huge. It was small, but not tiny. It was spacious enough to have everything and more. There was an L-shaped sofa that could probably fit 5 or maybe even 7 people if squeezed in together. There were even 2 more smaller ones in front of it. Perfect for a small gathering. Opposite the living room was a kitchen, with a small kitchen island. God, I’ve always dreamed of having an island. There was another floor and at the stairs leading up to it were ceiling-high windows with a bumped-out seat, all set with pillows on one end and potted plants on the other. It looked like the perfect spot to read or stargaze at night. I walked into the living room, the brick walls were covered in framed movie posters and artwork, some smaller frames containing pictures which I guessed were probably a collection of memories.

I stepped closer and caught a glimpse of some familiar faces in unfamiliar settings. One photo caught my eye. It was a photo I remember, taken earlier this ye- I mean well, early 2017, right after graduation. I was sandwiched between Jungwoo and Ten, holding up a peace sign to the camera. Jaehyun on Jungwoo’s other side, hand around the latter’s shoulders. Others in the picture smiling widely, so many poses, so many expressions. Literally, it felt like yesterday.

“You remember that?” Jaehyun probed.

I smiled. “Yeah, just a couple weeks before Taeil’s birthday bash, right?”

Then, something flickered in my mind. Of Jaehyun, smirking at a table with his friends, of them exchanging words and laughter, of me hearing something I probably shouldn’t have. Jaehyun had many circles of friends, being the typical extroverted, super-friendly campus sweetheart. This circle was one I wasn’t quite familiar with, least to say I didn’t really like them. I felt my cheeks heat up as my blood boiled at the thought of that memory.

“You wanna see upstairs?” Jaehyun’s voice pulled me back into reality. I turned to look at him. He was standing right next to me, looking almost exactly the same as the Jaehyun I knew. The Jaehyun that I couldn’t stand being in the same room with. The Jaehyun that always had a competitive, mischievous glint in his eye. The Jaehyun that would take every chance he got to argue with everything I said. The Jaehyun that made me feel like I had to defend everything I had.

There was a slight difference, though. The competitive, mischievous glint was somehow...softer. It made me confused, because I was angry, but looking at him now, I don’t know who to be angrier at. Me, or him?

“Ummm, I think, I just- I just wanna lie down,” I tore my eyes away from him and took a step back, putting just a little more distance between him and I.

I saw his fists clench and unclench a bit at his sides. A moment passed until he said, “Yeah. Sure,” walking back towards the doors he picked up my hospital bag and gestured towards a room behind him.

“This is actually, um, our bedroom, but don’t worry, I’ve moved most of my stuff upstairs so this space is all yours,” dropping the bags on the bed, he stepped aside to allow me in. It was a beautiful room, with slanted windows, decorated with some more plants.

“So, feel free to look around, get used to the place and all. Oh yeah, um, this is the bathroom,” he opened a door on the left of the room, then gestured toward a closet in front of the bed, “Your pyjamas are in the top drawer and, uh, well, um, everything else is-”

“I’ll take a look,” I smiled at him briefly.

His eyes landed on mine for a moment, then quickly looked away.

“Yeah, okay, so um, I’ll be outside, if you need anything just, um,” his hands, one scratching at the back of his neck, the other gesturing undecidedly, “yeah.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he replied. He stood there for a second, then turned to leave the room.

“Jeahyun?”

“Hmm?” he snapped his head towards me, eyebrows lifted in question.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

I saw a bit of tension leave his body. “You don’t need to thank me, Astrid,” he replied softly. “This is- this is your home too.” With a tight-lipped smile, he closed the door behind him.

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themalhambird · 4 years ago

Text

Growing Up Broken: I Talk About My (A)sexuality For 4 ¼ Pages.

I am asexual.

No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some form of plant budding off copies of myself if I get enough water and sunlight. It’s a shame. I could do a lot with multiple copies of myself- get someone else to do the dishes, the cleaning, my schoolwork…

I am asexual.

Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, would possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do.

I am asexual, and it’s almost Pride Month, and so I want to untangle some of the thoughts in my head and spin them out on to paper, to try and lay out my feelings about my sexuality, or lack thereof, and what it’s like growing up when no one bothers to tell you that not experiencing sexual desire like, ever, is a thing. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It’s 2014. Puberty has doing stuff to me for the last two years or so: periods (urgh), breasts (neat!), underarm hair (why do I have to shave this? no one’s gonna see it), growth spurts (I’m getting taller than my older sister. I want to keep going till I’m taller than mum). The only thing not happening is wanting to have sex, something the nurse who came to Talk To Us All About Growing Up back in 2009 assured us Year Sixes would definitely happen as soon as puberty hit.

Still. It’ll happen soon, probably. Sixteen is still a bit too young to be having sexual feelings, right? The boys…really not interesting at all, but the other girls are pretty. I like their hair. I like the shape of their bodies. I just don’t fancy any of them. When we’re told to imagine our future husbands or wives in class (don’t ask my why, I’ve long forgotten the point of the exercise, I just remember that) I picture a wife.

(Lesbian is the first label I apply to myself. I stick it on tentatively- keep peeling it off my shirt and putting it back somewhere different like I’m not quite sure where it fits. It’s not wrong, necessarily. I’m just not certain it’s right. I like girls a whole lot better but I’m not saying I could never love a guy. I’m just not attracted to them. I’m not attracted to women, either- but I feel like I will be. When I’m old enough to feel that kind of thing. )

Sex Ed lessons are mortifying. We’re asked to list all the sexual terms we know on an A3 sheet of paper. I don’t know what half the things other people say mean- blowjob, 69, masturbate, porn . I don’t know how other people know these things either. We’re sixteen. It’s too young.

That summer I play Sebastian in an abridged version of Twelfth Night and it convinces me to take Drama at A-level, although I didn’t at GCSE. The drama classes teach me two things. First of all, I don’t like acting women. I prefer breeches rolls. I don’t know why. We’re talking about my asexuality, not my gender confusion, so let’s put a pin in that and move on to point two. My drama class teaches me that everyone my age is having sex, or wants to have sex, or is planning on having sex soon; sex is a constant, every class, every conversation. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. So apparently sixteen (seventeen) isn’t too young after all.

It’s like this. One day you wake up and you realise that everyone else is speaking a language you don’t understand. Suddenly, sexual feelings aren’t something that no one your age is having but you’ll all develop soon- it’s that sexual feelings are something that everybody your age is having apart from you. People your age are dating, kissing, fucking, and it’s not something you’re interested in doing, necessarily, but you still feel so horribly left out. Like you’re missing some kind of major milestone. You try not to let it bother you- you watch Buffy every Monday you get to see your dad. (You watch loss of virginity be portrayed as growing up). You read. (The books you pick up all involve love and love always seems to at least imply sex). You- google things. You google the words you didn’t understand in that sex ed class. You google “how to tell if you’re attracted to someone” in case there’s some secret signal your body sent you that you missed. You feel like you should know if you’ve ever felt sexual attraction but then maybe you’re just really, really dumb. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. The NHS website reckons that if you’ve got a low sex drive you ought to see a doctor. The girls in your drama class keep talking about boys and sex and sex and boys and you aren’t really interested in either of those things. You cling to the thought, lesbian and hope that when you get to university, you’ll stop being so repressed. Girls are pretty- but the ones at school are either your friends or kind of mean. Of course you don’t fancy anyone there. University. University will save you. (Boys are sometimes pretty too. There are boys at school whose personalities are nice enough- who are the type of man you wouldn’t mind dating one day maybe- but you can’t ever picture yourself having sex with one. Dicks seem weird and really not the kind of thing you’d want inside you. I mean for fuck’s sake- why? You can’t even get a tampon in.)

I don’t like looking back on this. Sixteen, seventeen year old me was starting to get pretty freaked out. I like looking back at the first year of uni even less, because if seventeen year old me was freaking out, eighteen year old me was buying alcohol. That’s how it goes, right? Sex and alcohol. You see it all the time on T.V. Fictional people get fictional drunk and fictional cheat while they’re on fictional breaks with their fictional partners. David Tennant is pretty. A man at work is handsome and more importantly intelligent, into Shakespeare, into good conversation. The label switches from lesbian to ‘bisexual but heavily skewed toward women’ and I cling to that as tightly as possible because after that, I’m out of options. It is impossible that I’m not feeling sexual attraction: the whole world screams about sexual fucking attraction all the fucking time, I’m obviously just too uptight, I obviously just need to relax-

I once drank a whole bottle of wine in what was essentially one go. I paused for breath, but that was about it- I don’t think I even bothered with a glass. My goal was to get myself drunk enough that I could feel sexual attraction. I thought that the best way to go about things- to finally ‘grow up’- would be to get super drunk, and then leave the flat and find someone who would screw me. I reasoned that I would enjoy it once I was doing it- after all, the whole world pushes sex as this wholly desirable thing for any normal adult to want, even need- so I would like it once I was doing it and then I would be fixed. Fortunately, drinking a whole bottle of wine when you’ve never had more than a single glass of champagne or a couple of glasses of rum and apple juice before in your life gets you past “lowered inhibitions” to “can’t walk straight or upright” very quickly. I got as far as the bathroom, threw up, a lot, and staggered back to my room. I woke up at 3 pm the next afternoon feeling stupid for drinking, and mad at myself for still being a virgin.

I had a lot of problems in my first year of university and not all of them were about my sexuality crisis. I was isolated, fairly friendless, and not really cut out for socialising with my housemates who were probably all lovely people, but I find new people painfully difficult and hiding away seemed easier. But the feeling that there was something broken inside me because I wasn’t experiencing what everything seemed to be telling me was one of the most vital parts of the human experience- sexual attraction to other people- contributed to my general feelings of self-loathing and disgust. I attempted to induce sexual desire in myself by drinking on several further occasions, although never quite to the same extent as the first time. I’m not sure whether this counts as self-harm, but it certainly wasn’t healthy.

I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I knew I wasn’t straight- I’d known that for a while. I learnt that I enjoyed reading, talking, even writing about sex, as long as it was sex between people who weren’t real, but fantasising about fictional characters having sex and fantasying about myself having sex are two very different things. The former happened fairly frequently. The latter didn’t happen once, and still never has. My second year at university was better than my first: I was living with friends, I was further away from campus which meant I had to walk more, which probably helped, I had also started to make several friends online with whom I could happily chat even when I wasn’t in the mood for ‘actual’ people. I used bisexual to describe myself because on the rare occasions I thought about romance, I couldn’t really see myself ruling out anyone who was willing to put up with me.

I’m not quite clear when I first heard the term ‘asexuality’. I became aware of it gradually. Someone I followed on Tumblr identified as ‘grey-ace’. Characters from my favourite fantasy series were being headcanoned as ‘asexual’. At some point I must have learnt properly what that meant.

It sometimes feels like there ought to have been a lightbulb moment- like I should have seen the word, seen the definition, and instantly seen myself. But it is very, very hard to delete the message- ‘sex is important- sex is what grown-ups do- sex is what you should want to do’ – that the world constantly sends to us: in advertising, in entertainment, in the conversations of a drama class that always circled back to that topic, to the detriment of the sole seventeen year old who wasn’t really bothered. To embrace asexuality seemed like I was giving up on trying to fix myself, on waiting for the right person to come and make everything better. On the potential of their being a right person. I can wrap my head around people having casual sex very easily. It’s romantic love without sexual desire that I’m scared won’t work- how am I supposed to know if it’s love without there also being physical attraction? No romance arc that I had ever seen was without an element of sexual tension. So, no lightbulb moment for me. No switch going off- “aha, at last, that’s what I am!”. Just a gradual thought washing across my mind every now and then, like the tide rushing up a patch of sand and drawing straight back, leaving only dampness to show where there had been a good half-inch of water only a moment ago.

I might be asexual?

And ‘I might’ becomes ‘I think I am’, and the tide starts coming in. ‘I think I am’ became ‘I am’ at some point or other.

I am asexual.

I find reassurance in knowing that there’s a word for what I am, for how I (do not) feel. I am asexual. Not broken, or damaged, or too uptight to properly feel, or too dumb to recognise what I do feel. I am asexual- I have an absence of any sexual desire for others and that’s perfectly okay. I might fall in love one day. I might not. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know if you have the capacity to fall in love before you find yourself doing it. It might be nice to have a wife. It would also be nice to have a cat. I could cope with it just being me, a cat, and good friends for the rest of my life. If I fall in love- if I am capable of falling in love- it will just mean I am asexual, but romantic, and I will have learnt something new about myself. The point is-

The point is, I am incredibly lucky that I stumbled across Asexuality before I got myself hurt trying to force something that wasn’t there. The point is, this world assumes that sexual desires are the norm, and maybe they are, but that just makes it all the more important that people know that they aren’t abnormal for not experiencing sexual desire. To all the people who need to hear it: You are not broken. You are not alone.

I’m not sure how to wrap this up. I feel like I should say something profound or something. But I think I’m just gonna leave it like this:

I am asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, and possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do. I am not broken. I am not ‘going through a phase’ or ‘looking for attention’ or ‘trying to be special’. Everyone’s special, fuck you. Knowing that I am not the only person to feel how I feel makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground. May all people experiencing the same confusion and distress over their sexual orientation that I felt growing up find their way safely to the same solid ground: you are not broken. We’re not broken.

#asexuality #wow this got long #no i haven't proof read it i just wanted to get it off my chest #discussion of sex tw #alcohol tw #self harm tw #(mostly just in case I'm not sure if it counts or not)#I don't know what this is except a long winded account of growing up asexual when you don't know that's a thing and how you cope with that #or- y'know- don't cope with that #maybe someone else will find it helpful or relatable idk

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years ago

Text

Alma Mater (S2, E3)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:20 - There’s no way Martin is actually going to escape Claremont until AT LEAST the season finale.

0:55 - Anyone else annoyed that Ainsley isn’t in Martin’s fantasy? I mean - it’s completely in character but it still pisses me off.

1:49 - I’m sorry - what? How will pouring Malcolm a drink help this fictional situation?

2:00 - Malcolm ruining Martin’s fantasy dream is honestly such a mood.

2:10 - “That little kill joy.” haha

2:21 - Malcolm has a stationary bike. Of course he does. But why does he listen to the personal trainer lady (who I assume was a recording programmed on the bike)? Malcolm doesn’t seem like he needs praise or motivation to exercise. He probably does it the way I do - mindlessly as a habit. A habit built from the knowledge that if I skip a morning workout I will feel more unsettled and anxious than usual before lunch....and don’t even get me started on how quickly my depressive thoughts escalate.

2:24 - ....I’m still convinced/hoping that this is a false memory Martin has planted in Malcolm. I’m all for Malcolm whump and Malcolm trauma...but the thought of Gil, the team, and Jessica finding out that Malcolm committed a crime terrifies me. I don’t want him to go to jail. I don’t want Gil and the team to turn their back on him. I don’t want Jessica to blame herself (more than usual).

2:39 - I love that the “Malcolm pretty much only feeds himself liquorice and lollipops” is still canon this season.

2:42 - OMG. That is not a helpful affirmation. Like maybe for anyone? If you’re traumatized/depressed/anxious “consider the past and you shall know the future” is not comforting or inspiring. It’s the opposite.

2:48 - I’m loving how confidently Malcolm has been shutting down Martin’s manipulation. #soproud

2:52 - Anyone else super upset that Martin is the person with whom Malcolm discusses his mental health the most honestly?

3:12 - Check out the way Mr. David looks at Martin here. Does Mr. David already know about Endicott? Or is he just like, “Bitch, spit it out so I don’t have to keep guessing your current family drama.”?

3:17 - “Let’s have another session today.” .....Does Martin really think he’s Malcolm’s new therapist? DOES MALCOLM THINK THAT? IS THAT WHY HE ISN’T SEEING GABRIELLE? HAS MARTIN MANIPULATED HIM INTO THINKING THAT HE DOESN’T NEED GABRIELLE?!?

3:22 - hahahaha OMG. Mr.David is so done with Martin’s theatrics.

3:32 - Ok so two things:

Martin’s insight on Malcolm’s mental health/coping mechanisms is disturbingly on point. Almost like he’s an attentive, caring, father (which he isn’t).

How long was Gil outside Malcolm’s door before he knocked? Do you think he overheard Malcolm’s side of the conversation? I kind of hope he did. But only if it means I get to see Gil asking Malcolm about it.

3:50 - “Put me on speaker.” I’m torn. Part of me is so proud of Malcolm for denying Martin’s need for attention....but part of me is living for a Martin/Gil showdown where they fight over Malcolm in front of Malcolm.

3:54 - Ok. So Gil was a jerk last episode but I forgive him. Gil just showed up at Malcolm’s apartment to tell him about a case instead of calling Malcolm. Gil knew Malcolm would be upset. Gil knew that Malcolm needed to hear this in person. <3 My heart is full. <3

4:12 - Concerned!Gil is everything. Look at how much he cares about Malcolm and what this case will inevitably bring up for Malcolm. You can almost see how badly Gil doesn’t want Malcolm on this case.

4:13 - “What if I said I need you?” Damn. Gil knows. He knows that Malcolm desperately doesn’t want to ever disappoint Gil. Gil is Malcolm’s hero and, when Malcolm is thinking straight, he’d do anything for Gil.

4:17 - <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 Gil looks so sad when he notices Malcolm’s hand shaking. Can a heart simultaneously break and heal?

4:23 - Oh yeah. Gil definitely wanted Brumback dead for what he did to Malcolm. He doesn’t even try giving Malcolm the “you’re being insensitive” look.

4:42 - Wow. That school is nicer than my university.

4:47 - Do you think Gil’s been to the school before? To visit and/or pick up Malcolm? ....I really want to believe he did. Gil looks like he’s leading Malcolm through campus. Gil looks like he’s familiar with the campus. Surely that means he visited Malcolm there. Right?

5:17 - So...was the “office under water” thing officially a prank? It’s brutal. Forget the murder, Brumback would’ve expelled kids for that prank.

5:27 - I love how Dani looks at Gil for clarification here. She’s like, “Malcolm is upset, ranting, and making no sense. I’m not going to set him off further by asking more questions. But I need to know what the hell he’s going on about.”

5:40 - Soooo is JT texting Dani? Or is Tally? I really hope it’s Tally. I hope Dani’s texts are all reading something along the lines of “He won’t stop pacing and panicking. If he doesn’t calm down I’m going to slap him.”

5:43 - I love the look of disbelief that Gil shoots Dani when her phone goes off. haha

5:52 - hahaha Gil so heard Edrisa the first time. He was just giving her a chance to conform to professional social standards.

6:03 - hahahaha OMG. Edrisa is a treasure.

6:56 - awww Malcolm, baby. :( This boy has so much trauma. I love it.

7:07 - I’m assuming Malcolm’s ‘high school’ was grades 10-12 (not 8-12 which is common in the area of Canada where I grew up) so that means Tom Payne is currently being passed off as a 15-16 year old. It kinda works. But ngl - I spent most of this scene thinking “could they not hire a kid because of COVID?”

7:12 - I’m not actually mad that Tom Payne was allowed to play high school Malcolm though. His performance in this scene is really moving. “Be someone new.” :( <3

7:45 - Sooooo Malcolm changed his name before he was legally an adult. If it’s his legal last name (we see “Bright” on pill bottles in S1 so it’s his legal name now at least) Jessica had to have signed the paperwork. Damn. I wish I was there to see that process regardless of when it became his legal last name.

7:49 - Baby Malcolm looks so comforted by Martin’s acceptance of his new name and new school. It breaks my heart.

8:00 - Wait. There was a teacher who liked Malcolm at this school? The son a serial killer? AND the teacher recognizes Malcolm 15 years later?!? Nah. I don’t buy it. I love Malcolm but I feel like the teachers would’ve avoided developing any sort of relationship with Malcolm even if they didn’t have a problem with him.

8:05 - Hold up. This school is so fancy. Are you telling me they don’t have outdoor security cameras? Surely those would’ve told you who the suspects for the desk thing were at least.

8:15 - awwww poor Malcolm looks shattered here. :(

8:31 - “Easy. Let’s keep an open mind.” That is pure Dad!Gil energy and I’m here for it.

8:39 - Of course. Of course Jessica is involved in the rich school.

8:51 - I’m on Gil and Malcolm’s side here. Jessica is putting her reputation over Malcolm’s mental health. Shame on her. No no. I will not stand for this - and neither will Gil. Damn. Look at how pissed he is on Malcolm’s behalf. <3 So sweet.

9:06 - “Pop-pop’s aquatic center”!?!? Soooo is Pop-pop Jessica’s grandfather or Malcolm’s? Either way give me more information about the extended family. Are they dead? Did they disown them after the Surgeon business? I WANT ANSWERS FEDAK.

9:15 - I swear. Malcolm is the best son/brother ever. The sacrifices he makes for his Mom/sister are unreal. Also - how much do you want to bet that Malcolm was thinking about the Endicott murder coming out when Jessica said, “how soon until they connect that back to me?”. Malcolm looks so sad here.

9:23 - Nah. I don’t like Delaney. Even on the first watch I was put off by him. Something about him just creeps me out. He’s showing a weird amount of affection for Malcolm 15 years after Malcolm finished school. IDK maybe I was just upset that someone was trying to mimic Gil’s relationship with Malcolm?

9:27 - oooooooohhhhh Mom and Dad are fighting. hahaha Malcolm looks so uncomfortable. Gil looks livid. Is Gil pissed because Jessica dumped him or because she totally just neglected Malcolm’s well-being for her own? Probably both. Either way, it’s endlessly entertaining.

9:53 - I’m on Gil’s side here. She dumped him (like a f**ing moron) because she “doesn’t want to hurt him” and because she’s “broken” and “cursed”. Yet - she manipulates her way into cases. Making her business Gil’s. Gil should be pissed - she broke his heart. Again. Like he’s literally been choosing to hang out with Malcolm, Jessica’s (let’s face it) broken son, for more than 20 years. Jessica’s crazy if she thinks that she’s going to get Gil killed or hurt just because she’s a Whitly. Malcolm’s technically a Whitly - Gil hasn’t died yet.

10:15 - “Not usually.” Dang. That was icy.

10:50 - Yo this is one messed up bible study. Take it from someone who has attended many young adult/teenage bible studies. This is crazy. Usually it’s: read the bible for 5-10 minutes as a group, discuss how you interpreted it for 15-20 mins, pray as a group for 5 mins, then like an hour of tea/coffee, cookies, board games, and general chatting about normal stuff like romance, school, and personal drama.

11:44 - “Poor Tally.” hahaha I’m willing to bet that Tally is texting Dani - not JT. I just can’t imagine a panicking, first-time father, texting his little sister with accurate medical details about his wife’s pre-labour experience. He’s probably way too panicked to remember the medical jargon that is “foley ballon”.

12:00 - I’ve watched this scene about 30 times. I’m in love with it. Tom Payne’s performance is haunting and I’m a sucker for emotional whump. I love how Dani is concerned about Malcolm but respectful enough to pry until he shuts down. I love Malcolm’s little speech about the hand tremor (even though it doesn’t make sense because baby Malcolm’s hand was shaking when Shannon interrogated him - but that’s a whole different can of worms I’m not going to rant about).

12:39 - Does anyone else think it’s weird that there’s a bolt on the closet door? Why isn’t there a lock in the door handle like every other interior school door? I mean, I guess it’s because they can be unlocked from the inside and Nicky would’ve needed a key....but still. The things I forgive for the sake of plot.

13:25 - Damn. Brumback was a real jerk. “I know what you really are.” Do you know how painful that would be for Malcolm to hear? Regardless of what he almost did to Nicky? Everywhere Malcolm goes people accuse him of being just like his father. Is it surprising that in a moment of weakness, with teenage hormones, Malcolm snapped and said, “Eff it. They think I’m a murderer anyways.”

13:26 - OMG. How bad were the kids at this school?!?! Brumback expelled so many kids. Holy hell. Also - Brumback is wearing a wedding ring. Did he get divorced before he died? Did his wife pass away before him? Why was his family not part of this investigation at all?

13:31 - Brumback writing “Malcolm Whitly” instead of Malcolm Bright is....ouch. I just. My heart breaks for Malcolm.

13:37 - OMG. Traumatized people going through PTSD flashbacks should not be unattended next to a pool of water. Honestly - I thought our boy was going to drown. Which the whumper in me would’ve loved but also I don’t think it was right for the plot on this one.

14:38 - Martin is such a liar. He definitely thinks he’s God’s gift to the Earth.

15:02 - Martin knows a lot about the security zones. Something tells me this isn’t the first time he’s contemplated escaping.

15:04 - Oh shit. Daryl has an imaginary cell mate. I know that’s a serious mental illness and I shouldn’t laugh but OMG. The moment Martin realizes that Daryl is delusional is priceless. hahahaha

15:25 - How much to do want to bet Mr. David has a red key card? Martin’s grin confirms it.

15:40 - Wow. The classrooms in this high school are really big. I would’ve thought this fancy private school would have smaller class sizes.

15:49 - YES. OMG. Malcolm walking into that classroom soaking wet is golden. *chef’s kiss* Look at Gil’s face - it’s a mixture of concern and disbelief. He’s soooo worried about Malcolm right now. <3

16:07 - It’s a good thing Malcolm’s rich because that phone is never going to be useful again.

16:20 - ahhahahaha OMG. WTF. Gil’s little twinkle-finger wave is hilarious.

16:38 - This whole scene Gil is just staring at Malcolm with so much concern. It warms my cold, dead heart. <3

16:46 - Do you think Malcolm looked for his name in the book? Is it the same book? Do you think Brumback expelled enough kids that this is a new black book?

17:08 - Ok. So I immediately don’t like Louisa. That level of confidence and self-absorption is very unattractive.

17:25 - Louisa volunteers in the library. That’s how she got access to the poison.

17:35 - “Dude. You’re dripping.” “Yeah. Water does that.” Can Malcolm be this sassy every episode?!? I’m living for it.

17:57 - “Boys right? Oof” haha I love Malcolm talking to teenagers. I want it in every episode. ALSO - the jock’s story about the two girls - I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how that an expulsion level offence unless the kid is leaving something out of the story.

18:31 - Of course they talked about this before they came there. DELANEY WARNED THEM. But mostly to keep his little cheating ring hush hush.

18:55 - And just like that we’ve been blessed with Malcolm in casual clothes. Wish I could’ve seen Gil question Malcolm’s swim though.

19:26 - OMG. Edrisa is such a cute little nerd. <3 Protect her at all costs.

20:00 - Gil and Jessica arguing is amazing. I’m loving it and hating it. Because I want them to live happily ever after in a fairytale world but I do enjoy the drama.

20:06 - hahaha look at how Jessica just pushes Gil to the side and plows on to Malcolm. This woman is fierce.

20:11 - Yes. Yes Malcolm. Tell Mom she has unrealistic and insensitive expectations of you.

20:18 - What kind of school is this?!? The board of trustee members are buddy buddy with the students?!?

20:22 - “They’re all from impeccable families.” “So was I” Mic drop. Watch Malcolm drop the truth bombs. This is maybe the best line in this episode.

20:30 - “And just like you - none of them is capable of murder.” .....well this sentence is going to come back and bite Jessica in the butt later this season.

20:44 - The fact that these kids think Edrisa is a freshman is actually hilarious to me.

20:50 - OMG. “Welcome to boarding school. Bitch.” I was ready for Louisa to die right here. She just punched Edrisa and then called her a bitch. No no no. Edrisa is a quirky treasure and we must protect her.

21:00 - Damn. I wish we got to see the team’s reaction when they found out one of their teenage suspects assaulted their favourite M.E.

21:10 - Why is it soooo attractive when Malcolm wears casual shirts under a suit jacket?

21:53 - “My vote is for Louisa. The girl’s got a heavy fist.” hahaha I love Edrisa. SO SO much.

22:05 - Soooo is Jessica some sort of consultant now? They used her to interview cult extractors and now rich, teenage murder suspect. Is she the “rich person investigator” now?

22:11 - Does Louisa know that Malcolm is Jessica’s son?

23:04 - Louisa is a bad liar.

24:15 - Delaney should be ashamed. He told Nicky who Malcolm’s dad was. He is the reason that Malcolm got locked in a closet for 3 days. He is the reason Malcolm is claustrophobic. This man should have his teaching license seized and be charged with child abuse. What he did was absolutely despicable.

24:35 - “My mom’s sending a car.” It’s nice that Malcolm doesn’t always refer to Jessica as “mother”

25:00 - This is heartbreaking. I hope Nicky got expelled. If he didn’t - Malcolm experience a bigger injustice than we were lead to believe. Look at Nicky walking away from Malcolm. That kid has no remorse. I don’t blame Malcolm for seeking revenge. Malcolm keeps getting burned by people. Something had to give eventually.

25:30 - The biggest crime this episode committed is that we only saw Malcolm getting comfort from DELANEY. Honestly. Where was my papa Gil moment?!? Or a Dani+Malcolm moment?!?

25:51 - I doubt Delaney tried to stand up for Malcolm. He probably encouraged the expulsion.

26:05 - “Please.” Yikes. This has been torturing Malcolm for years. Who sold him out? Who ruined his last chance at a happy childhood? Who allowed him to be traumatized further? Who gave him the hand tremor (assuming we’re ignoring the S1 canon).

26:38 - What. A. Getaway. This school is full of crazy rich kids.

26:55 - “This time”?!? Doesn’t Martin always root for the killer?

27:05 - I love everything about this interaction between Martin and Malcolm. I love how upset Malcolm is. I love how Malcolm calls out Martin for being a bad dad. I love that Martin just sits there and takes it. Martin even looks a little sad. It makes me wonder - did Martin know about Delaney’s cheating ring? Did Martin manipulate Delaney into thinking Malcolm was a threat and convince him to get Malcolm expelled? I can see Martin doing it. If for no other reason than to tarnish the “Milton legacy” at Remington.

28:04 - UGH. I want to see how Malcolm got out of that closet SO BAD. Who found him? How close to death was he? PLEASE TELL ME IT WAS GIL. Why didn’t Jessica investigate when Malcolm didn’t show up at the Hamptons as planned?

28:13 - “How you wish that were true.” Ouch. Martin is a real asshole. He knows just how to destabilize Malcolm’s confidence.

28:56 - Even now, Martin is trying to manipulate Malcolm. Their relationship is so dysfunctional, beautiful, heartbreaking, and complex. I could watch them interact forever.

29:31 - Look at that little head shake from Mr. David. Martin’s cell is not soundproof. Mr. David heard everything. Mr. David always hears everything. Mr. David knows about Endicott. Istg.

30:12 - Delaney is a scumbag. He might not be a serial killer but he’s another male, adult asshole who gained Malcolm’s trust and then stabbed him in the back.

30:37 - OK. So I know, I’ve been hypothesizing that Mr. David is an ally to Martin’s crazy schemes, or that he worked for Endicott, or that Martin is going to try to kill Mr. David. BUT YO. IF MR. DAVID DIES I WILL THROW HANDS. HE’S SUCH A GREAT CHARACTER.

31:40 - This is a weirdly fancy room for video games. Also I miss JT. He should be here. I wish he was here. He would’ve been so good in this episode. Can you imagine his facial expressions and comments when he finds out little tidbits about Malcolm’s teenage past?! It would’ve been comedic GOLD. Couldn’t Tally give birth during a less interesting episode?!?!

32:15 - I’m convinced that Malcolm isn’t actually upset that Delaney’s crime is running the cheating ring. I think Malcolm’s upset because he just realized the only positive male role model (aside from Gil) that he had as a teenager was a manipulative liar who betrayed him. Malcolm just realized that this dude never cared about him and he’s crushed.

32:27 - Wait. Does Delaney make the kids pay him for the answers? Because that actually makes sense.

33:08 - This whole scene where Molly runs out of the back room and Dani says, “who are you running from?” is really cringey to me.

33:19 - Oh great. Now the guy who betrayed Malcolm is touching the back of Malcolm’s neck. JUST LIKE GIL DOES. Well....something tells me that’s going to taint how comforting Malcolm find’s that gesture coming from Gil for a while. Malcolm just isn’t allowed to be happy. Even for a moment. It’s a shame. I also love it.

33:40 - Awww...poor Malcolm is claustrophobic and he gets locked in the vault with a dying man. Look how desperate he is to get out of there - to save Delaney and to save himself more mental distress.

33:53 - Look at Malcolm panicking here. He tries to hide his panic as concern for Delaney but he’s clearly freaking out about being trapped in a smallish space.

34:25 - Yep. Malcolm didn’t think he could trust Daryl because Daryl is delusional. SO Martin threatens to murder Daryl and then metaphorically stabs the dude in the back. This is perfectly in character.

35:25 - Damn. Louisa is seriously mentally ill. She has zero empathy.

35:57 - Malcolm projecting his mental issues on the killer du jour is always simultaneously cringey and amazing to me.

36:26 - I’m not going to lie. Daryl screaming “He’s a Judas” as he was dragged away was hilarious.

37:04 - Holy shit. This took a turn. I’ll be honest - I don’t blame Malcolm for almost killing Nicky. But it does scare me.

38:35 - That story must have been haunting Malcolm for 15 years. I bet you he’s never told anyone not even Gabrielle. He’s had nightmares about it. Because he knows he’s capable of murder. Just like Martin. That terrifies Malcolm more than anything in the world.

39:12 - sooooo Delaney just heard that whole confession. Delaney lives. Something tells me this is going to be a problem for Malcolm when Endicott’s murder is investigated later in the season.

39:35 - “Are you insane?” “Maybe.” That’s it. That’s the show.

40:00 - Two questions: 1) Where is Dani? 2) Why does Gil not know where Malcolm is right now?

40:22 - Look Fedak screwed us over. We didn’t get to see Gil find Malcolm half-dead on the floor of that library vault. BUT this scene almost makes up for it.

40:24 - Malcolm wrapped in a blanket is so so cute. I just want to hug him. I want Gil to hug him. Ugh. <3

40:28 - I love that you can tell that Malcolm and Gil have had this sort of discussion about Malcolm’s sense of self-preservation numerous times in the past. Gil looks sooooo pissed. And concerned.

40:35 - Malcolm’s imitation of Gil makes me so so so so happy. I just. Ugh. It’s adorable. Look at how exasperated it makes Gil. Look at Dani’s reaction to it. This might be the greatest “found family”. scenes this show has given us to date.

40:55 - “All in a day’s work.” Oh yeah. Gil is super concerned about Malcolm’s mental state. Gil is Worried. I want to see more of it.

40:57 - I love that Dani just can’t wait anymore. She’s so precious. Look at how excited she is about JT’s baby. <3 I’m in love. She’s so soft here - it’s beautiful and rare for this show to let the audience see this side of Dani.

41:00 - GIL’S REACTION. <3 OMG. I LOVE HIM. HE LOOKS SO HAPPY. I HOPE JT AND TALLY DUB HIM THE BABY’S UNOFFICIAL GRANDFATHER.

41:02 - MALCOLM’S FACE. <3 <3 <3 IS THIS THE FIRST TIME HE’S EVER SEEN A BABY? HE’S SO ENAMORED WITH THIS CHILD ALREADY. LOOK AT HOW MUCH MALCOLM ALREADY LOVES JT’S KID. <3 <3 IT’S SO SOFT. I LOVE IT SO SO SO SO MUCH.

41:22 - I can’t decide about this scene. On one hand - I think it’s really mature of Malcolm to apologize to Martin. It’s a courtesy that Martin doesn’t deserve. ON THE OTHER HAND - I wonder if Malcolm is only apologizing to throw Martin off balance. I wonder if this is Malcolm’s attempt to manipulate Martin for once. Either way - I love it.

42:25 - Martin always gets the last word. He always worms his way into Malcolm’s brain and screws with Malcolm’s sense of self. I hate it. But I also find it so captivating.

43:05 - Sooooo is Martin committing the murder next episode? Or is he just manipulating someone else to commit a murder? Either way - I’m excited.

If you read this far - I’m flattered. I also think you’re a little crazy. But thanks for hanging out.

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