#I'm so frustrated bc the potential was there and it just… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamescapeswriting · 3 months ago

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Unlucky Night ~ BC

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.1K

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: strangers to friends, to potential lovers, cute, fluffy, chan acting like a protector - we stan a king -

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

You sat at the bar, your fingers gripping the cool glass of your drink as you stared ahead, trying to ignore the man next to you. His presence was almost suffocating and you'd been doing your best to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there but it was becoming increasingly more difficult with each passing moment.

He had sidled up to you over an hour ago, and despite your polite rejections, he persisted like a shadow you couldn’t shake off. Even the barman had attempted to make the guy leave you alone but he was persistent in staying right where he was. Claiming he was a 'paying' customer and it was a 'free country'. You started to grab your things trying to move away from him, you'd come out for a nice relaxing night and so far you hadn't gotten that.

"Come on, sweetheart. I’m just trying to have a good time," the man said, his voice slurred from one too many drinks, he stunk of vodka and the smell made you want to vomit. You clenched your jaw, keeping your eyes fixed on the shelves of liquor behind the bar.

"I already told you, I'm not interested," you replied, your voice sharp but measured. You didn’t want to escalate the situation, but every time he spoke, your patience wore thinner. You'd been taught to always politely decline since you never knew what someone was capable of, but right now you wanted to smack the guy over the head with the glass he was nursing his drink from.

He leaned closer, invading your space, and you had to force yourself not to recoil.

"You’re playing hard to get, huh?" He chuckled, the sound grating. His breath was catching on your head as he moved closer to you, your hands clenching into fists.

"I like a challenge," he whispers, you can hear him licking his lips and it finally pushes you past your limit. You took a deep breath, glancing around the bar for an escape, but none seemed available. The bartender was busy, and no one else seemed to notice the tension between you and the man.

"I’m not playing anything," you said, your tone firmer now. "I came here for some quiet, and you’re making it difficult." He raised an eyebrow, clearly not getting the message—or choosing not to, whatever his small mind could come up with.

"Quiet? In a bar? You don’t look like the quiet type to me." He moved closer, his shoulder brushing yours, making your skin crawl and your stomach churn. If this was what he was like in public you didn't want to imagine what it would be like if you'd run into him in a dark alleyway on the way home.

"Let me buy you another drink, and maybe we can go somewhere else after." You finally turned to face him, your gaze hard and unflinching. You wanted him to finally get the point through his tiny brain,

"I said no." Each word was laced with frustration. You were at the end of your rope with him and you were two seconds away from insulting him,

"I don’t want a drink. I don’t want to go anywhere with you." you figured he would finally understand that you meant no but of course not. He didn’t back down. Instead, he smirked! Smirking as if this was all part of some game you were both playing and that you were just trying to test him.

"You’re being feisty. I like that." He placed a hand on the bar, trapping you on one side.

"Don’t be like that, babe. Let’s just—"

"Stop calling me 'babe,'" you snapped, your voice rising slightly. "I’m not interested. Leave me alone." You snapped a little harsher at him this time, earning the attention of the couple on the other side of the bar from you.

The man’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure, leaning even closer. He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at you, his eyes looking you up and down as he drank in your appearance.

"I think you just need to loosen up." That was it. Your heart pounded with a mix of anger and anxiety, and you could feel the adrenaline kicking in. You had to get out of this situation before it escalated any further. Your eyes scanned the room again, desperate for a way out, and that’s when you spotted a guy sitting alone. You weren't sure he was going to be any better than the arsehole beside you but he seemed nice enough, his eyes were on his laptop,

Without another thought, you stood abruptly, pushing the bar stool back and making a beeline for his table, hoping that this stranger could help you where words had failed.

Your heart raced as you made your way toward the table at the back of the pub, weaving through the crowd while trying to appear as calm as possible. This was your one shot of getting away from the creep and you didn't want to blow it, you could still feel the man’s gaze following you, his presence still heavy on your back, but you forced yourself to focus on your next step. You didn’t know this guy at the table but you hoped he was as nice as he appeared to be,

He was sitting alone, his attention on his laptop when you reached his table, you bit your lip a little. Hesitation washed over you as you stood there for a moment, unsure how to begin or how to even ask him for his help but here you were. He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to concern as he noticed the panic flickering in your eyes.

“Excuse me…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed, forcing yourself to speak louder, more confidently, you didn't want to come across as creepy like the guy from the bar.

“I—I know this is weird, but… there’s a guy over there who’s been following me all night. He won’t leave me alone. Can you… Can you help me?” The man blinked once, taking in your words, his gaze briefly flicking past you toward the bar where the man still lingered. His jaw clenched so hard you could see it from where you were standing, and without hesitation, he slid to the side, making space on the bench next to him.

“Sit down,” he said softly, his voice calm but authoritative. You didn’t waste a second before slipping into the seat beside him, your heart hammering against your chest. The second you sat down, you felt an immediate sense of relief, though the anxiety still churned in your stomach.

"I'm Chan," he introduced himself quietly as you nodded along with him, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. It was now that you realised he had the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen in your life.

"yn." You whispered back to him, a shy smile forming on your lips as your chest began to flutter. He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours as he spoke in a low voice meant only for you.

“I’m going to play along, okay? But I need to ask—can I put my arm around you? It’ll make this look more believable...but only if you're comfortable," Your breath caught in your throat. You were grateful he even asked, considering the situation, but the way his voice was so gentle and steady like he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, made you nod almost instantly.

“Yeah,” you whispered, still feeling nervous but trusting him. Without missing a beat, Chan slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a way that felt protective rather than invasive. He let his fingers rest lightly on your shoulder, not gripping too tightly but enough to make it seem like a natural gesture. His body was warm against yours, and for the first time that night, you didn’t feel as vulnerable.

His free hand found yours on the table, his fingers gently intertwining with yours and you were sure your heart was about ready to throw itself at him now.

“There,” he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “How’s that? He still watching?” You dared a glance toward the bar, where the man was glaring in your direction, clearly displeased by the sudden shift in your attention.

“Yeah, he is,” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly. You were worried he would be there all night and Chan would eventually have to leave you alone.

“Don’t worry,” Chan said, his voice soothing. “I’ve got you. Just follow my lead.” Then, to sell the act even further, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to make it seem real. The warmth of the gesture spread through you, and though your heart was still racing, it wasn’t from fear anymore.

“Babe, you okay?” he said louder, for anyone watching to hear. His thumb stroked your hand as he continued to play the part effortlessly.

“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Yeah, I just… got held up,” you mumbled, trying to match his tone. Chan squeezed your hand gently, leaning closer again, his voice dropping back to a whisper.

“We’ll leave in a few minutes. I’ll walk you out, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t follow.” You nodded again, your pulse slowly calming with every second that passed by his side.

"I hate that he's made you panic, I can feel how hard your heart is racing," He whispered to you, but little did he know your heart wasn't racing because of the creep - well, maybe at first - but now it was all for him.

"So what brings you to the bar?" You asked with a smile, and he smirked turning his laptop screen around to show you what it was he was working on but you couldn't make sense of it.

"Music, I come here to focus sometimes when I can't do with the silence of my studio," He smiled at you as you stared at the screen, his eyes lingering on yours as you scanned over the screen,

"What about you, beautiful?" He asked with a smile, your eyes slowly looked back at him and you felt your body heating up from the attention,

"Long day, I wanted some quiet after work but I guess I was unlucky...but it's improving," You whispered, his cheeks turning pink as you flirted back with him,

"Well, I'm glad I could make your unlucky night that much better." He winked at you.

What was meant to be just a few minutes of pretending stretched into something much longer between the two of you? You and Chan settled into an easy rhythm of conversation, your initial nerves melting away as you found yourself drawn into his warmth, both literally and figuratively. His arm was still draped casually over your shoulders, felt natural now, and his presence put you at ease. At first, you kept sneaking glances toward the bar, checking to see if the man was still watching, but after a while, you stopped looking, forgetting he was there altogether. Chan had a way of making you forget about the unease from earlier, all of it melting away into nothing.

His laugh was infectious, and the stories he shared with you made you feel like you'd known him longer than just a couple of hours now. He had a talent for making you feel like the only person in the room, even as the pub bustled around you.

“So, you’ve never been to Australia?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes. You shook your head, laughing lightly.

“Nope. Never. The farthest I’ve travelled is from home to Korea.”

“Well, you’re missing out,” he said with a grin.

“When you do go, I’ll give you all the recommendations. Best beaches, places to eat... And don’t worry, no kangaroos in the cities. Everyone always asks about the kangaroos.” You giggled, holding your hand over your mouth as you tried not to get too loud.

“I wasn’t even thinking about the kangaroos.” Chan leaned back slightly, his hand still resting comfortably on your shoulder as he continued.

“Good, ‘cause they’re honestly a bit terrifying up close.” He shuddered playfully before you giggled at him.

This whole thing had started as a tense situation and had suddenly turned into something that felt more like a spontaneous first date. You found yourself telling him things you didn’t expect to share, laughing at his jokes, and learning about the person behind the calm, cool exterior.

At some point, the pub began to thin out, the bustling energy of the night slowly quieting down. You glanced at your phone and blinked, surprised.

"Wow, it’s already past midnight.” Chan raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely surprised.

“Really? We were supposed to leave a few minutes ago, right?” His lips curled into a small smile. “Guess we got a little carried away.” He laughed softly as you joined in, realizing that you hadn’t even thought about the man who’d been following you. Turning to look toward the bar, you saw that he was long gone. You hadn’t noticed when he’d left, but now it felt like a distant memory, something insignificant compared to the night you’d spent talking with Chan.

“Looks like he’s gone,” you said with a relieved smile. Chan’s arm tightened slightly around your shoulders as he followed your gaze. Part of him was a little disappointed that this was over but he was relieved you weren't going to have some creep following you around.

“Good. I didn’t want to leave you alone until I was sure.” He looked back at you, his eyes softening. “Still, let me walk you out and get you a cab. Just to be safe.” You nodded, grateful once again for his thoughtfulness. He stood up, offering you his hand, and you took it as he helped you to your feet. His hand lingered in yours for a moment before he dropped it, guiding you toward the door with a protective closeness that hadn’t faded since you first approached him.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, refreshing against your warm skin. Chan stayed beside you, his arm gently brushing yours as you stood at the path. He waved down a cab, making sure it stopped directly in front of you.

Before you stepped inside, he turned to you, that playful smile back on his face.

“So, I’m guessing we didn’t get to talk about everything yet.” You laughed softly and shook your head at him.

“No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Then how about we finish this conversation another time?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. He wasn't usually the type to pick up people in bars and ask for their number but with you, he'd felt something, a genuine connection that he didn't want to let go of.

“I think we owe ourselves a less stressful night.” He finished as you nodded at him.

“I’d like that, a lot.” You whispered before the two of you exchanged numbers, the glow from his phone illuminating his face as he saved your contact. After sending a quick message so you had his number too, he looked at you again.

“I’ll text you. We’ll set something up.” He suggested. You nodded, opening the door to the taxi and sliding into the backseat, Chan leaned down slightly, his hand resting on the doorframe as he looked at you. He didn't want you to go but it was getting too late now.

“Take care, alright? And text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

“I will,” you promised, giving him one last grateful smile. “Thank you… for everything.”

He grinned, his dimples showing as he gave you a small wave. “Anytime.”

The cab pulled away, and as you watched him grow smaller in the distance, you couldn’t help but feel like tonight had turned out much differently than you’d expected but much, much, better than you'd expected.

You stared at Chan as the two of you sat in the same booth table you'd been in a year ago today,

“A whole year, huh?” Chan’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. He squeezed your hand, giving you that soft smile that still made your heart flutter, even after all this time.

“Yeah, hard to believe,” you said, grinning up at him. “Feels like it was just yesterday that I walked up to your table and asked you to save me from that creep.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Best decision you ever made.” He winked playfully, and you nudged him in the ribs.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not wrong,” you teased, squeezing his hand back as you found a familiar table toward the back—the same one where you’d sat with him that night.

As you both settled into the booth, the memories of that night played vividly in your mind. You remembered how nervous you’d been, approaching a stranger for help, how you’d ended up spending hours lost in conversation with him, and how he’d walked you out, making sure you were safe. It felt surreal to be sitting here again, but this time, things were different. This time, he wasn’t just playing the part of your boyfriend.

He was your boyfriend.

“So, how do you feel about this anniversary?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “One year of dealing with me. Not bad, right?” You laughed softly, resting your head on his shoulder as he squeezed you, softy, pressing his lips to your temple.

“One year of putting up with your terrible jokes, you mean?” His laughter joined yours, a deep, happy sound that you never got tired of hearing.

“Hey, you love my jokes.” he whined at you making you smirk,

“Debatable,” you teased, though the smile on your face made it clear just how much you adored him. “But really… this has been the best year.”

Chan tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as he looked down at you.

“Same here. Best year of my life, actually.” Your heart swelled as you looked at him, slowly leaning in and kissing him softly.

"Happy anniversary baby," You whispered before he leant his forehead on yours,

"Happy Anniversary, stranger." He winked before you giggled, cuddling into his side again.

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tsxkkis · 7 months ago

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omg omg can i request? pls ignore if you dont!

s3 of haikyuu will always be my favourite season, maybe due to the fact that tsukishima realizes his potential in playing volleyball? (him having his MOMENT is my favouriteee scene)

so could you write gf manager reader x tsukki, where reader witnesses him having his first moment (blocking ushijima's spike), injuring his hand etc etc up until they receive their throphy and medals in the end ?🥹🥹💕 shes a proudddd reader and literally just smooch smooch hug hug tsukki because hes the mvp of karasuno x shiratorizawa 🥰😤

i realized that theres nobody includes this scene in their fics and i wonder why? 🤔🧐

# tsukishima kei - mvp

a/n: i am terribly sorry anon bcs this took so long T-T i'm not quite sure about some parts of this fic but overall i really enjoyed writing this request!! tsukishima is my fav for many reasons, one of which being the fact that i see myself in him a lot, and the particular moment during the shiratorizawa vs karasuno match is also my fav from the entire series!! i hope u enjoy reading this fic^^ i feel like it's not exactly what you asked for, so i'm sorry if i went too far away from your idea....

summary: tsukishima finally regains his love for volleyball.

warnings: a few swear words here and there, the fic doesn't exactly portray what happened in the series (i switched it up a bit)

'are you stressed?'

'not even a bit.'

'you're lying. i can read you like a book.'

tsukishima kei let out a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he looked away from your face. you were obviously right; there was no way he wouldn't be stressed before the game that determined whether or not karasuno would go to nationals. as much as he hated to admit it, he was almost as stressed as others. he was just better at controlling which of his emotions are shown.

you squeezed his hand, his fingers instinctively intertwining with yours. all it took was a reassuring smile from you to help with his nerves, his muscles finally relaxing after being tensed up for the last twenty minutes or so. he still tried to get used to you being more than a friend. your relationship was quite awkward and fresh, so much so in fact that you never even had your first kiss yet.

'i'm sure you'll do great.' you stated calmly, trying to hide the fact that you were even more stressed about the match than him. 'in fact, i'm positive that you'll win.'

'even if we do, it won't be because of me.' he mumbled, letting out a silent laugh when he saw the angry look on your face. 'oh, come on. it's not like i'm the greatest player this team has.'

'you know i hate it when you talk down on yourself.' you said, the tone serious and sharp, rather unusual for you. it stayed like that for only a short while, taken over by a softer, understanding one. 'you're a vital part of this team, tsukishima. winning this match is not up to a single person. it's a team effort. your input is as important as that of kageyama or hinata.'

he opened his mouth to say something but was instantly stopped by the voice of his captain, daichi, calling the team up to quickly warm up as the match was about to start.

you smiled at the boy, letting go of his hand before lightly patting him on the back.

'do your best for me, alright?'

'i will.' a barely noticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand affectionately ruffling your hair. 'don't worry too much about it.'

you finally realized why tsukishima kei never tried more. why he would never stay longer like other karasuno players to polish his skills, why he didn't truly seem to love the sport he chose to play in high school.

'you're insufferable, you know?' his words sent shivers down your spine. 'why don't you leave it the fuck alone?'

opposite forces, some might say. no one really knew what drew you and tsukishima to eachother - both of you completely different from one another, and yet oh so similar at the same time. frustration took over you every time you looked at him, and now you knew why.

he was like a mirror in which you could see all your flaws, and it irritated you a great deal.

his outlook on life and the way he viewed himself made you furious. how can someone be so full of contradictions? so cocky and confident, and yet so vulnerable and self depreciating at the same time. so full of himself and yet so hateful towards the person he saw in the reflection of every window, every mirror.

how can someone so great at what they do, so intelligent and talented, be so critical?

'because i can't! i can't leave it alone, you absolute moron.' the thought of how loud you were didn't stop you from continuing to shout, a mixed look on your face that tsukishima couldn't quite decipher. were you angry or sad? and why the hell would it bug you so much to evoke such strong emotions within you?

'you're saying i'm insufferable? from the moment i laid my eyes on you, you've been nothing but insufferable. so much so, that i want to gouge them out every time they spot you.' you ignored your watery eyes and tsukishima's surprised face, almost as if he didn't expect you to blow up like this. 'it pains me to see you be so full of doubt and hatred and i- i can't understand why you would think so lowly of yourself, why you feel inferior to the other guys in every way possible, when you could be so much more than them. do you even realize your potential, tsukishima?'

he stayed silent. for the first time since knowing you, tsukishima kei did not have an answer to your words.

'your doubts are so irrational i don't know if it makes me angry or sad. you're truly incredible on the court. you're intelligent, you can read the opponents well, you have the physical predispositions for volleyball and a natural talent that you choose to ignore because-'

'but what is talent without passion?'

that singular sentence managed to catch you off guard so much you had no idea how to answer him. such a simple question, and yet such a philosophical, confusing one.

'why should i put my all into something i'm not even passionate about, huh?' tsukishima tried to keep his composed nature, but it was hard to stay intact after what you've said. as much as he did not want to admit it, your words hit him deeply. 'why waste my time and energy for something that does not give me any satisfaction at all? tell me that, because i have no fucking idea.'

'passion is not something that dissapears once and never shows up again, you idiot.' you took a step closer, as if that was going to help you get your point across. 'if your passion is genuine, it will always be there. whether small or big, it will always crawl around in the back of your mind. if you ever truly loved volleyball, the moment where you fall in love with it again will come sooner or later.'

your words were met with complete silence, but you didn't mind. tsukishima slowly processed your words, a focused look gracing his face, lips in a tight line. even though it was only a couple of minutes, for you it felt like hours - awaiting an answer, any answer at all.

tsukishima moved closer, his tall frame hovering over you as he wrapped his arms around you, catching you in a tight hug, much to your surprise.

'thank you.' he mumbled quietly, glad that in this very moment you couldn't see his face, and the stupid smile plastered to it.

the moment where you fall in love with it again will come sooner or later.

tsukishima's mind lingered over these words whenever he played, awaiting this moment to come almost eagerly. the match was particularly hard - with ushijima wakatoshi as their opponent, the chances of winning were incredibly slim. every spike of his went through the block, his serves were absolutely killer, and his teammates did everything to deliver the ball to him at all costs.

what a hassle.

you noticed that his demeanor on the court changed from what it used to be. tsukishima seemed more invested now - almost as if he was trying to impress you, to keep his word. as happy as it made you, you were still anxious about the match and it's final score, hand shaky and a bit sweaty as your eyes followed the ball flying around from one side of the net to another.

another spike from ushijima, it'll probably be another point for shiratoriza-

and that's when you realized.

you saw the ball hit the ground on shiratorizawa's side of the net surprised gasps from everyone watching the match. you saw the shocked look on ushijima's face, the horror in the eyes of his teammates as the ball bounced off of the floor for the second, third, fourth time.

silence took over the court for just a mere second, quickly interrupted by tsukishima's triumphant scream.

he looked more than content with his performance. he looked... happy.

the rest of the boys joined him, screaming in unison. it was just one point, right? but for some reason, for both you and tsukishima, this one was worth a thousand.

for the first time in years, tsukishima kei felt that his spark for volleyball came back.

you noticed that his eyes were now focused on you, a full, cheeky smile gracing his face, and it only made you tear up. a short moment, probably insignificant for people around, but for the two of you it was like a breath of fresh air, like getting rid of the shackles that once held you in place, enabling you from moving forward.

'y/n, are you... alright?' coach ukai looked with his brows slightly furrowed, confused by your teary eyes and big grin plastered to your face.

'yeah, yeah, i'm fine. sorry, coach.' you mumbled, bowing a little as your eyes focused on the court. 'actually, could kiyoko replace me here for the rest of the match? i'm not quite feeling well.'

'tsukishima is injured.'

'what?' akiteru spoke in unison with you, terrified voices mixing together as you looked down from the stands to see the boy walking off of the court and rushing to the medical office along with kiyoko. your instincts took over you - feet moving on their own as you quickly ran towards the same place.

the two blondes followed right behind you, stopping only when in front of the door to the medical office, gasping for air after such a short run. as athletic as your boyfriend was, you were quite the opposite; getting tired after a little to no physical activity at times.

tsukishima saw your head peeking through the doorframe, a small smile on his face the moment he laid eyes on you.before you opened your mouth to say something, he already gave you an answer.

'yes, i feel fine.' he stated quietly, sitting down on the edge of a chair. 'you don't need to worry.'

'are you going back on court?' he only gave you a small nod in response, seemingly feeling better already as he stood up, his hand taped up.

you looked up at him, taking in the expression on his face, just how focused he already was. he looked almost as if he already had a plan to defeat shiratorizawa in this match. seeing him so eager to go back and play almost made you laugh a little - you swore you never saw him get this invested into something ever.

'go and win then.' you mumbled, patting him on the shoulder as he headed towards the gym hall.

'oh don't worry. we will.'

you couldn't stop the tears rolling down your cheeks as you saw karasuno emerge victorious from the hardest volleyball match they had to play this year, hugging yachi tightly as both of you celebrated the win of your team.

the triumphant screams filled the gym hall, the team emotional after doing what many deemed impossible. as most of them enjoyed themselves, not planning on leaving the euphoric state for a long while, tsukishima could only think of doing one thing - going to you.

you were the only person he truly wanted to celebrate with.

after the ceremony of getting the medals, to everyone's utmost shock, considering your relationship wasn't exactly public, tsukishima went up to you almost immediately, a cocky smile on his face as he ruffled your hair, looking down at you from behind his glasses.

'you didn't exactly look quite as content with your performance before getting the prize.' you mumbled, looking at the blonde haired boy with your head tilted to the side.

'well, i could've blocked more of ushijima's spikes.' he started, rolling his eyes at the sole idea of not being able to do that during today's match. 'i only managed to block one and-'

you decided to use the only method that was for sure going to shut him up in that moment, lightly grabbing him by the tshirt and pulling him closer, lips clashing for a split second in a short, sweet kiss.

'no talking down on yourself today, kei.' you said, unconsciously smiling as you saw his face getting red at what you just did, cheeks covered by a tomato-like red colour. 'i'm proud of you no matter what you think about today's match.'

he stood still for a few seconds, as if processing what had just happened seconds ago, the redness on his face deepening with each passing moment. his hand was quick to grab yours, almost dragging you away from the team and to a more private, less occupied area of the building.

'do that again.' he mumbled, after he finally led you to a quiet hallway.

'huh?'

'it was... nice.'

your eyes lit up, a cheeky smile gracing your face as you finally realized what he was on about.

'ohh, you want another kiss?' you said teasingly, eyes quickly glancing from his face down to his lips. he rolled his eyes, unamused by your act of playing dumb.

'come on, don't make me repeat myself.' still somewhat embarrassed of what he was asking for, tsukishima stood in one place, awaiting your next action.

a sigh left your lips as you took a step towards your boyfriend, standing on your tippy toes to be able to reach his face.

'alright. i guess you deserve it, match mvp.'

your arms were wrapped around his neck in no time as your lips gently touched his, tsukishima immediately kissing you back, hands positioned on your waist as you felt a smile creeping up on his face. he let out a short laugh, seeing your face being just as red as his was moments ago, hand reaching to squeeze yours.

'what?' you mumbled, as he hasn't spoken a word since breaking the kiss.

'that's surely the best prize i got today.'

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita

#tsxkkis #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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giantkillerjack · 1 year ago

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Update: Having finished Smile (2022) with only minimal fast-forwarding (I'll go back and re-watch it fully at a much later date), I can confirm 3 things:

I am an absolute fucking pineapple for starting a horror movie past 10pm. The previous personal rule I had was "no starting horror media after midnight", and I started this movie at 11:54pm. I see now that my previous rule was... insufficient. My adrenaline isn't going to go down enough to sleep until at least 5:00am. I am a kumquat of a man. I am a silly little transgender kiwi-lime spritz. I am a passionfruit-strawberry smoothie with boba for brains, and I have made an error.

Most people who are suicidal should not watch this movie. Just-- go watch The Babadook for now if you absolutely must watch a movie about a literal trauma monster, and come back to this one when it has less of a chance of causing harm to you. Both are great movies. Smile is just a lot more bleak. - And that is in comparison to a movie where a woman snaps her a small dog's neck in front of her 6-year-old child. I mean, The Babadook is absolutely hopeful in comparison.

This movie fucking slaps. It is extremely fucking good. If you are in a place to watch a bleak and TERRIFYING movie about suicide, this is an excellent fucking movie. (If you're not sure, please save it for later! It's not going anywhere!)

I mean, I want everyone in my life who failed to support me in my own time being suicidal to have to watch this movie because it is a brutal look at what it is like to have a deadly mental illness that you don't have the language to explain and that you just can't get people to understand the danger of. Gods know those folks who failed me would probably STILL fail to understand what I'm showing them, but MAN, it is a BRUTAL message about not believing mentally ill people.

My only real complaint tbh is that the character of the white cop ex-boyfriend was WAY too helpful and understanding to the mentally tormented main character. Which ultimately means that the film did fail to understand and highlight the way that the cops play a direct role in perpetuating the very same abuse and neglect of the mentally ill in America that this movie is about!

(The fact that the main character's therapist mentions that she is legally obligated to call the cops if she determines her patient is dangerous shows that the movie is at least partially aware of this issue, but it fails to commit in this respect.)

But otherwise, yeah, this is an amazing fucking movie and the most visceral demonstration of the horrors of psychosis and untreated PTSD that I've seen, while actively challenging the ableist horror movie tropes I've come to expect from any horror movie that shows ANYTHING related to mental health.

This movie really said, "NO, you're not gonna get murdered by a bunch of crazed lunatics. That's fucking stupid. You're MUCH more at risk to BECOME someone other people CALL a lunatic for reasons outside of your control... and then there will be nobody that can help you."

And THAT'S the horror story I think neurotypical people need to fucking hear. The same way I don't need another "oh man wouldn't it be scary if you met some POOR PEOPLE with FACIAL DEFORMITIES" cannibal hillbilly movie, when the REAL horror of THAT situation is the kind of treatment a poor person with an unusual face could expect from a group of lost college kids who represent wealthy society at large.

I give Smile a 9/10, with the caveat that, again, this story is a tragedy about mental health. And it's an important story to tell...

But as a person whose life was saved by the patients and counselors at a mental hospital's intensive outpatient program, I want to emphasize that this movie would have fucked me up really badly back then, and it could have even discouraged me from seeking the trauma treatment that helped my life stop being a living hell.

So I wanted to emphasize one more time to please be careful with this film if you're currently having a Bad Time, and also emphasize that not all of our stories end in tragedy. I'm alive and loved and often happy, and I don't want to die, and I once thought that was an impossible state of being for me.

Even though it was fucking chilling for me to recognize that twisted titular smile from this movie as the one I used to draw on my artistic representation of my own suicidality (her name used to be Sue), if i were to draw my trauma monster now, it would look like a small strange little creature that needs love and patience (they don't wanna hurt me; they're just... horribly scared sometimes. But they haven't been Sue in a long time). Things are so different now.

So. Good things are possible. And while sometimes good movies benefit from NOT showing hopeful endings in order to emphasize the real-life stakes of a societal problem, YOU, reading this, are not yet lost.

The possibility of a better life - however slim or grim - cannot truly die so long as you draw breath.

And I happen to personally know a lot of people working to help make that chance bigger and better because doing so is MY life's work, and this has led to me making a lot of awesome, radical, kind friends. We are Many.

And that matters. You matter. And even if you, now, are the only person who ever reads this - if you can be even a hair's breadth gentler to yourself today in any way, then, by my metric, I have written a wildly successful movie review.

(Especially considering that I am, at my core, a sapient mango who now has to watch funny YouTube videos until 5-fucking-AM because I am JUST A SILLY LITTLE GUY OKAY.)

The cool thing about a horror movie that takes place in a mental hospital and, shockingly, actually turns out to be on the side of mentally ill people is that it avoids all the common disgusting pitfalls of mocking, demonizing, and infantilizing mentally ill people.

The downside is

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

[It's much scarier.]

#original #smile movie #smile 2022 #horror #suicide cw #this movie is about suicide at its core and i wasn't readyyyyyy #also shout out to the big sister character or more specifically the writing of that character #main character goes to her sister with proof she's been cursed and the sister slaps the files out of her hands bc they look upsetting #and then Rose tells her sister like hey fuck you and your smug ignorant little bubble i am trying to tell you I'm going to die #and the sister is like 'wow??? You're yelling at me?? which is super triggering for me?? you need to leave.'#and like yeah that's Emily alright. less straight and rich but that's my experience. i yelled at her that she endangered my life #and she got REAL MAD that i yelled at her #favorite part of that scene tho is that Rose then goes into her car and has a scary hallucination and starts #screaming in terror and frustration .... and they zoom out to show the sister's young child watching exactly what has happened to Aunt Rose #with the implication that he is seeing what becomes of people in this family when they ask for help. fav moment in film i think. v subtle.#anyway I highly recommend replacing negative self-talk with names of fruit because it's a lot harder to be mean to myself like this #I also recommend the term 'silly little guy'#just watch a little bit of the movie I said. you certainly won't get so invested you feel you must watch it all in one night I said.#fool's talk! horror movies can provide release but only if you watch the whole fucking thing!! hence the fast forwarding #i knew i had fucked up so i tried to make it go faster at least #the bit where she's home alone and the Intruder alarm goes off but it is maybe a hallucination?? brilliant metaphor for PTSD #people who think it's funny to make fun of those who experience hallucinations are fucking DIPSHITS and this film really reminds me od #*reminds me of that Maria Bamford bit about the horrors of psychosis where she describes it and then goes (sarcastically)#'it's a HILARIOUS disease.'#fuckin icon that woman.#The Babadook has a VERY similar structure and vibe as Smile except the ending is a lot nicer.#also a funny part of this involves the main character who is a doc at a mental hospital being told that she's wasting her earning potential #and like. maybe I missed some context about her fiancee's income or something but that girlie was living in a rich person house #both movies do involve dead pets so heads up for that. i saw that cat and was like OH he's a GONER baby #but don't worry bc the dead cat irl is a prop and the actor cat got special treats and pats and went home after filming

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kenobers · 2 months ago

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just read your Obi-Wan mafia story...What about a Jason Todd mafia au 👀

ngl i think about this a lot bc one thing about me is that i love a good mafia au (not in a dark romance way) and i'm surprised they aren't more common in jason todd-batfam spheres. but i've specifically been thinking about the incredibly niche arranged marriage subgenre of mafia fics and jason quite a bit lately

Like always, Wayne is a prominent name in Gotham, but they're just as prominent in the criminal underworld as they are in high society. Instead of a fearsome vigilante, the Batman is an elusive mafia Don that only a few outside of the underworld know is really Bruce Wayne.

Your parents are District Attorneys working under the table for Maroni, a rival of the Batman. Maroni brings up your name to Bruce while discussing potential ways to marry their two families in an alliance. After all, Maroni has no daughters of his own and marrying you to one of Bruce's wayward boys would ensure your parents stay under his thumb. The idea of an arranged marriage is a little old fashioned to Bruce, but he thinks it might help rein in Jason, the most unruly of his sons.

So without getting much of a say, you and Jason get hitched. Needless to say neither of you are happy about the situation, but Jason's got a lot more attitude about it. He's cold, he's mean, he's scary. He's the most mysterious Wayne child, both in the crime world and regular society. So all you've heard about Jason is that he's violent.

Thankfully, he never seems to be home enough to prove whether or not that's true. When he is home, he hardly talks to you unless it's absolutely necessary or you're in his way.

At first you try to remedy the stiffness. You try making dinner, reading books from his shelf, asking if he wants to watch a show together, inviting him out with your friends. You know this isn't a marriage of love, but that doesn't mean you have to be enemies. It's nice to have a friend. However, he's stubborn. The more he ignores or sneers at your attempt, the more miserable it makes you. He looks at you like this is all your fault, like he's comparing you to the hook-ups you're sure he's having. It all just makes you feel like complete shit. After a few weeks, you just start glaring back.

It's frustrating. It's frustrating to have a moody husband that doesn't want anything to do with you. It's even more frustrating when you through in the whole mob situation on top of that. Of course you had your suspicions about your parents connections. Of course you already knew to look over your shoulder, to not say anything. But at least you didn't have to know anything.

You're not supposed to ask when Jason comes home with blood on his hands, but you always know what it's from. You know what the unlabeled packages hidden in your bathroom are. You know which cops to call if Jason gets arrested. You know which important figures are being paid off, which ones are secretly in the Family; including your father-in-law because on top of all this, you also have to be a Wayne now.

You can't see your friends as much because you might accidentally blab to them (and you're too paranoid to risk getting any of them in trouble). You can't explain to them why you married Bruce Wayne's son out of nowhere. You can't even talk about Jason to the friends that stuck around after your big 'reveal' was received as a slap in the face to your entire friend system. You just had to lie that you'd been keeping you 'relationship' with him a secret. You've been "asked" not to work until the powers that be are absolutely positive you can be trusted. Although you have a sinking suspicion that it's just a ploy to turn you into a housewife. It feels like there's always someone watching you, making sure you're behaving and keeping quiet.

All this for a husband who frankly couldn't give a fuck about you.

Maybe you should be glad that Jason ignores you. You've heard the stories about mob wives. You know that he could be worse. You'd rather have a husband that can't stand to touch you than one who puts his hands on you.

But still.

It's lonely.

At least Jason's siblings are nice. Dick's made it a habit to check-in on you and Jason once a week. Mostly on you, you think. Since he mostly swings by when Jason's out of the apartment. Dick is good company. He's easy to get along with, appreciates your cooking and is sympathetic to your struggle with being thrust head first into this life. But he never stays for long and he always looks at you with so much pity. Even if he is interested in getting to know his sister-in-law, you both know he's really here because he knows his brother is a jerk.

Once he let it slip to the other siblings that you make bomb cookies, they start showing up unannounced every now and then. They're weird, but they're fun. You would make more of an effort to form an actual friendship with them if you didn't think it would lead to arguments with Jason. You're not willing to risk your peace, even if it's miserable.

Still, you let yourself feel some satisfaction at the way Jason's temple throbs every time he comes home to find Tim and Duke have accidentally gotten sucked into whatever you're watching.

Months of marriage purgatory come to a head when Jason comes home in the middle of the night to find you drunk off your ass. It's your friend's birthday. You haven't spoken to her since your engagement to Jason was announced. If you had to guess, she probably didn't feel like she could trust you after you had to make everyone think that you just casually hid a serious relationship. She probably assumed you just didn't trust her. You sent her a 'happy birthday, I miss you' message, only to realize you'd been blocked. Which stung more than any bitch face Jason could ever make at you.

So you celebrate her birthday with a bottle of gin. Fuck it, no one's here to judge you. Until your meanass, killjoy excuse of a husband interrupts you by having the audacity to come home. Jason discovers you hunkered down on the couch, lips to bottle, scrolling pathetically through old pictures from when you actually had a life.

Jason rolls his eyes at the sight. He probably would've just gone to bed and left you to your own devices, but the contents of that gin bottle have been utterly depleted since he poured himself a glass last night. He's not about to risk waking up to see you've choked to death on your own vomit. Dick would never let him hear the end of it.

So instead he scoffs and chastises you, subtly trying to get you to explain why you're plastered without making it seem like he cares. He's expecting some swallow, 'whoopsie-daisies' response, but instead he accidentally opens up your floodgates.

You tell him all about your friends, how this marriage destroyed your life, how lonely you are. That...That strikes a nerve for Jason. He's been so frustrated with suddenly having to share his space with a stranger, that he hadn't stopped to think about how much of an actual change this was for you. To be roped into the mafia, of all fucking things.

"...This must all be so terrifying for you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. You look at him with sad eyes, glazed over with gin and dark with exhaustion.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Jason will never forgive himself for the fact that this is the first real connection the two of you have shared this entire time. He feels even shitty that it took him seeing you like this to decide to be nicer to you.

He isn't sold on being a husband yet, but he supposes he knows a thing or two about being a friend. And maybe it would benefit him if you knew a thing or two about being in the mafia. He would feel better about leaving you alone at home if he was confident in your ability to handle a piece.

He can't fix everything overnight, but this...this is a start.

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hibiscusseaart · 4 months ago

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i wanna draw some ideas with AU or even write smth but I feel like shit :')

I'm gonna throw some hcs here and there

Also, question for you ppl! How do you think their kids would call their fathers? I hc that Tobirama refuses to go by any motherly terms (and to break Madara's heart, he doesn't like to be called 'wife' either).

Madara of course takes the more standard position of The Father cuz clan head and all that. Tobirama is more Tobimama cuz he was with their kids the most when they were little.

But I'm asking more traditional terms. Madara as Chichiue/otou-san and Tobirama as Tou-chan and 'papa' when they're little?

Oh and some endearment terms for the pair.

Tobirama uses A LOT of them. At first to convince everyone and especially Madara himself that he is actually in love and then he actually got used to it. Madara doesn't hear his own name from his husband much lmao

Before marriage he'd call him 'Beautiful' and tease him like "Ah, you wanna dance, pretty boy?". He noticed how well Madara reacts to praise, especially of his appearance since he had an ugly duckling phase and had complexes.

Maybe later before the peace treaty and engagement he'd call Madara 'fiancé', cuz the fucker promised

When they're kids he might've call him and "Madara-chan". I mean he still has the experience from his first life and he was around kids a lot and here's little madara running around looking all small cute and funny. Ofc he's Madara-chan or at least -kun.

To be clear Tobirama probably didn't feel anything romantic towards Madara before he turned at least 16, it'd be hella wrong otherwise. Like he trained kids his age before!

But he was definitely fond of him cuz let's be honest Madara is hella cute and funny kid. That was one of the reasons why Tobirama didn't actually kill Madara when he got there. He can't just kill an innocent kid even if he has the potential to destroy the whole world.

Oh and he def called baby Izuna "-chan " just cuz he's a baby too and to see him lose his shit.

So in marriage Tobirama would call Madara lot of endearments. My love, my dear, husband dear, darling, my heart and ect.

But he doesn't like all that mush like cutie patooty or whatever. I cant imagine Tobirama even saying word 'Pookie' 😭

not here kitten whiskers daddy will discuss it later

For Madara it's an interesting story

As kids he'd try to call Tobirama "his future wife" and got thrown in the river or the river was thrown at him. He didn't get the same reaction when he called him "his future husband". Tobirama just slightly nod and Madara would be so happy for the whole day.

He'd also tried to call him beautiful once, but got shy and ran away. Maybe to go fight Hashirama to fight off frustration on himself. He's a good shinobi and he can't even compliment the boy he likes!

But he would initiate some hand holding and even hugs. Even though Hashirama REALLY didn't appreciate it. He can allow hand holding. But hugs? Hell no, "Madara get your dirty hands away from my innocent baby brother!! >:((("

"Anija, please calm down, I don't mind hugging."

"I do!"

Basically this meme but with hugs and baby Hashirama

When they had the fall out and Tobirama orchestrated meetings, he didn't use any terms and tried real hard to forget and bury his feelings cuz Tobirama is an enemy (even if he looks SO good when he fights)

He's an Uchiha and it didn't work. Especially cuz Tobirama still showed a lot of interest and tried to make peace.

Maybe once Madara would try to write some angsty poems about Tobirama's beauty and grace and how they couldn't be together because they're in warring clans. He thought he sucked so much but the poems are quite decent. Tobirama would appreciate it if he finds them.

After marriage he'd call Tobirama "Blessing" a lot. NOT bc of that Blessed AU that's circulating around, but just cuz he truly feels blessed that Tobirama chose him.

Oh and he'd be proud as a peacock to call Tobirama "His husband"

But when he's overwhelmed by feelings he'd be "my wife.... WIFE" - Tobirama really doesn't know where is it coming from, he's not even a proper wife by traditional japanese standards and he doesn't bottom much cuz he doesn't like the whole process of preparation (he's a busy man he can't stretch his ass for several hours straight)

also thinking about how after their deaths Madara's poems and letters to Tobirama while they were engaged but couldn't see each others and Tobirama's journal would be found and someone (probably some of their grand kids?) would edit it a bit and publish as a book as the most wholesome Romeo and Juliette story.

If Tobirama and Madara would get resurrected* again - they'd be like "THEY DID WHAT"

Especially Madara he'd be so embarrassed 😭

*it'd be a good thing for Tobirama to never actually leave any traces of this jutsu in the world, but he worried for his children and left them notes and some of his DNA in case something happens and Konoha needs saving or the whole world once again. Though maybe he'd made something of a counter seal (maybe a tattoo?) or counter jutsu that the person who summoned him wouldn't be able to control him.

ok I got it out of my system, i'm gonna go sleep now

#madatobi #naruto #mdtb #time travel au #hibiscusseaart mdtb time travel marriage au #madara uchiha #senju tobirama #tbmd #time travel #tobimada #hashirama senju #uchiha izuna #i just realised that this au is literally #Tobirama groomed Madara to be his husband since he was a kid #wow real grey moral Tobirama here huh

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baphometsss · 1 month ago

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We need to talk about spirit hand!Inquisitor

I've been trying to put this into words for a while but it's really tricky to explain. I'm gonna try anyway bc I feel like it's an important discussion to have

First though, a disclaimer: I'm not physically disabled. Everything I'm about to say is based on me trying to relate through my own experiences of mental illness, the experiences of a disabled family member who uses a prosthetic leg, and research into how to write disabled characters properly in my own personal projects (thanks to cripplecharacters blog for helping me understand it better!) So, you know, you can take it or leave it--and please feel free to add your own experiences! This isn't a call out post or anything, I'm just trying to put my thoughts into words and start a conversation in good faith

The problem with fanworks where the inquisitor's wooden prosthetic is replaced by a magic/spirit hand is that it falls into a really tiresome trope where the character has the limb replaced with a magical prosthetic that essentially nixes the disability entirely. It's called the Cool Robot Arm or Perfect Prosthetic trope and it plays into disability erasure in a big way. This is pretty frustrating when you know having a limb amputated is a big deal that comes with a lot of pain and long-term effects, even if the amputation procedure itself was free of complications. Prosthetics are also basically a whole thing of their own, but suffice to say they also come with their risks and problems as well.

The thing with representation is that it needs to reflect real life experiences if its going to approach anything good or meaningful. Video games like Dragon Age often attempt to do this, but they also often miss the mark. I know a lot of disabled (and able-bodied) people want to see better representation of disability in media, but when that fails, we have the opportunity to do better in our fanworks. It feels like a lot DAI/DATV fanworks jump into the magical prosthetic trope far too easily and without very much thought for how it negatively impacts that representation. The Inquisitor becomes disabled through losing their left hand, and that would be a complicated journey for them. This is not a part of their character that can be written away without losing a huge part of their story--regardless of how we role-play them.

For me personally, I try to balance it out by being realistic about both the prosthetic, the spirit hand, and the remaining limb. For example, prosthetics rub and cause blisters and other skin conditions. They can be bulky and heavy and cause musculoskeletal problems. Residual limb pain is thing and can be chronic and debilitating. Learning to use a prosthetic usually requires physical therapy, and some people just prefer not to use prosthetics at all, or only some of the time or for specific tasks. Much of the discourse around prosthetics is focused on making them indistinguishable from a natural limb, when practicality and comfort should really be the focus and not this ableist idea that differently limbed people should want a prosthetic that looks identical to the one that was lost. There are so many potential stories that can be written about this experience, yet we almost never see any of them. My mage Inquisitor has a spirit hand, but she doesn't use it much because it's difficult to maintain both that and use offensive magic in battle, and she doesn't have the mental energy to use it 100% of the time. It's also not that easy to use, even when she does have the energy. She only really uses it occasionally anyway (usually to make random shapes with it to amuse other people) and prefers her prosthetic.

To put it another way--consider how deaf/HoH people who get cochlear implants often continue to use sign language afterwards anyway, even if the procedure was successful. This is because a. it's their first language, which means verbal language is a new language to them and b. gaining hearing after a long period without it can be extremely difficult to adjust to. It can be overwhelming and even painful. The point is that just because aids and treatments exist, it doesn't mean that they're a one size fits all and each individual person will have their own journey in figuring it out. That's one of the things we should be writing about, rather than just nixing it away with a magic limb because it's the easier route and it doesn't require us to consider writing outside of our own experiences. And don't get me wrong, I get that it's scary. You don't wanna upset people with your writing or make them feel even more alienated. But you have to start somewhere and be willing to listen to criticism if you're going to get better.

Furthermore: ableism for sure exists in Thedas. Can you imagine how that would affect the Inquisitor? How they'd adjust from being revered as the Herald of Andraste with a divine mark on their hand to being almost killed by it? How their political enemies would use their disability against them? How they would be affected emotionally by having to deal with that ableism potentially for the first time? Would they find community among other veterans who have become disabled through conflict? Or would they isolate themselves and carry the burden alone? Would they experience mental health issues because of it? These are all examples of how ableism affects real people. Of course, none of this is negated by the spirit hand, but it's something I've seen very little attention given in fanworks.

For me personally, I also try to think of this through my own experiences of mental illness. I have chronic depression/Dysthymia, which is not exactly the same as clinical depression. It follows similar patterns to other mood disorders like Bipolar Disorder in that it's cyclical; my baseline is being moderately depressed, and then every 2 or 3 months I will go into 'double depression' which is where I experience an intensification of symptoms that mimic going into an initial depressed state, while aggravating the symptoms I already have. It's hard to explain it, but suffice to say, it requires me to take medication to control it. I don't like it, but it's the way my brain is wired up and I've been told by multiple professionals that I will always have to take medication for it (antidepressants and antipsychotics, although I don't take the antipsychotics atm). This medication causes a variety of annoying side effects that I have to accept as a trade off so I don't regress too far.

This is just one of the mental health conditions I have to contend with, but it's one that probably effects my life the most. I know it's not comparable to amputation or other physical disabilities and I'm not trying to say it is. But I use it to understand writing for disabled characters by, in conjunction with my research, empathising, by thinking of how much it would bother me if someone wrote about my life and did everything they could to ignore this very prominent part of who I am. I would have to ask why they were so keen to ignore it. Dysthymia doesn't define me, it's not something I'm 'proud' of per se, but it does affect a big part of my life; I've struggled with it every day since I was 10 or 11--so of course it's shaped who I am. I use it to imagine how frustrating it would be if someone tried to cover up or negate this part of me and then dressed it up with something like... idk. Magical anti-depression goggles or something, or worse still decided to make my story all about the goggles. It would make me feel like I wasn't a person with experiences worth writing about, that I would be fine if it weren't for this illness I undeniably have and can't help having. That my illness is akin to a personality flaw--an ableist assumption that Dysthymia sufferers in particular have to deal with, because it's a depression that does not go away and people think it's just our personality rather than an illness.

I personally found these posts x x x really helpful in figuring out how to write my inquisitor. Tbh cripplecharacters is invaluable anyway, especially their 'magic aids' tag for writing Inky. I really strongly recommend that you read them before writing about your inquisitor's prosthetic and their perspective on losing their arm. Listening to actual disabled people when writing disabled characters is the most important part of the process and it'll only make your work better. You really have nothing to lose by doing it.

Like I said, I'm not trying to call anyone out. I have most likely missed the mark just in writing this post, because it's not my personal experience. I do think the spirit hand is a cool concept. It's just not a quick fix and writing about it needs to be done more consciously than I think most people do.

#dragon age #lavellan #trevelyan #cadash #adaar #datv #idk i know this isn't my lane but if you see someone go through amputation #it's kind of hard to ignore the ableism in fandom when it comes to inky's prosthetic #and it needs to be discussed more i think #solavellan

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astrophileous · 1 year ago

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DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

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