#but also… he articulated a need to me that broke my heart but that i wanted to meet because we both still want each other in our lives and

[pedroscowgirl]

I love you, I'm sorry

a professor! remus lupin x (legal) student fem!reader series

Warnings: fluff fluff /SMUT at the end so minors DNI! p in v (wrap it up), student x teacher relationship, age gap (reader is 20 something, remus is 38), size kink? (he barely fits), professor kink, reader is sucker for academic validation

summary: fucking your hot new professor 4.5k words

A/N: so once again uni has been killing me and i need academic validation from a hot professor and remus is my current bae so here you go. Also this will be a series cuz I'm way too invested in their dynamic so stay tuned. And there is an insane shortage of older remus lepin smuts btw. pls fix it guys

The September air was crisp as you stepped through the ancient wooden doors of Hogwarts, your heart thrumming with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. This wasn’t your first time entering the castle, but it felt different now—this was the year you’d finally take Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by the newly appointed Professor Lupin. You’d heard whispers about him in the hallways: brilliant, kind, but carrying an air of quiet sadness that intrigued you more than you cared to admit.

Clutching your books tightly, you made your way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, arriving early to secure a good seat. The room was lit with flickering candles, their light casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The faint scent of old parchment and wood polish lingered in the air, familiar and comforting. You chose a seat near the front, arranging your materials neatly as you waited, the quiet hum of anticipation growing in your chest.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence, and when the door creaked open, you looked up. In walked Professor Lupin, his robes slightly frayed at the edges, his sandy-brown hair streaked with silver, and a battered leather satchel slung over his shoulder. His eyes, a warm hazel, swept across the room before landing on you. For a moment, he froze.

“Oh, hello,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with surprise. He adjusted the strap of his satchel, suddenly looking self-conscious. “You… you must be one of my students. I didn’t expect… I mean, I wasn’t expecting anyone this early.”

You offered a small smile, trying to put him at ease. “I wanted to make a good impression, Professor. This is my favorite subject.”

His brows lifted slightly, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Ah, well, you certainly have. Punctuality is always appreciated.” He set his satchel down on the desk, his hands fumbling with the clasp. “I’m…” He paused, cleared his throat, and started again. “I’m Remus Lupin. Well, Professor Lupin, of course.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Professor Lupin,” you said, your voice steady despite the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

He nodded, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he busied himself with arranging papers on his desk. “And you are…?”

You gave him your name, watching as he repeated it under his breath, as if committing it to memory.

“A lovely name,” he murmured, then seemed to catch himself. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous chuckle. “I mean, uh, it’s… a perfectly fine name. Good, strong. Not that I… Oh dear, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, charmed by his awkwardness. “Just a little, but I don’t mind.”

He exhaled, a self-deprecating smile curving his lips. “Well, I’m glad one of us doesn’t. I’m usually more articulate, I promise.”

The door opened again, and other students began trickling in, breaking the quiet moment. Professor Lupin straightened, slipping into a more composed demeanor as he greeted the newcomers. But as the lesson began, you couldn’t help noticing the occasional glance he stole in your direction, as if you had caught his attention in a way he hadn’t expected.

The lesson passed in a blur of practical demonstrations and insightful lectures. Professor Lupin’s teaching style was unlike anything you’d experienced before; he made even the most complex topics seem accessible, weaving stories and humor into his explanations. He had a way of drawing you in, his voice calm and steady, yet tinged with a passion that made you want to absorb every word. By the end of the class, you felt more inspired than ever.

As students began gathering their things, you lingered, hesitant to leave just yet. You pretended to adjust the straps on your bag, stealing glances at him as he packed away his teaching materials. Finally, you took a deep breath and approached his desk.

“Professor Lupin?” you ventured, your voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in your chest.

He looked up, startled but quickly masking it with a warm smile. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for the lesson. It was really… inspiring. I’ve never had a professor explain things so clearly before.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely touched. “That means a great deal, thank you. It’s always a pleasure to know my efforts are appreciated.”

You hesitated, then added, “If it’s not too much trouble, I was hoping I could ask you some questions about today’s material. I want to make sure I understand it completely.”

“Of course,” he said immediately, motioning for you to take a seat. “I’d be happy to help.”

For the next half-hour, the two of you discussed the finer points of defensive spells and magical theory. Despite the growing darkness outside, you felt a warmth settle over you as his passion for teaching shone through. He listened intently to your questions, his responses thoughtful and encouraging. At one point, he pulled out a piece of parchment and sketched a detailed diagram to illustrate a particularly complex concept, his movements precise and confident.

“You’ve really thought this through,” he said, glancing up at you with a look of quiet admiration. “It’s rare to see a student so eager to delve deeper. You’re going to go far, you know.”

Your cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, Professor. That means a lot coming from you.”

He gave you a small, almost shy smile. “Well, I’m just glad to have someone so engaged in the subject. It makes teaching all the more rewarding.”

As the conversation finally drew to a close, you gathered your things, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. As you stood to go, he spoke again.

“You have a remarkable mind,” he said quietly. “I can tell you’re going to do great things.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, your voice soft. You hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m looking forward to the next lesson.”

“As am I,” he replied, his voice equally soft. “Have a good evening.”

You nodded and stepped out of the classroom into the dimly lit corridor. The warmth of his words stayed with you as you walked away, the echo of his quiet encouragement lingering in your mind. All you knew was that you were already looking forward to the next lesson—and to the moments when his gaze would meet yours, even if just for a fleeting second.

—----------------------------

The days that followed were filled with small, quiet moments that slowly deepened the connection between you and Professor Lupin. In class, he often called on you, his hazel eyes brightening whenever you answered correctly. There were times when he lingered after lessons, offering further explanations or engaging in discussions that felt more like conversations between equals than the typical student-teacher dynamic.

One afternoon, as the golden light of autumn streamed through the castle’s tall windows, you found yourself in the library, poring over a particularly dense tome on advanced defensive techniques. Your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of a particularly convoluted passage. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Struggling with something?”

You looked up to see Professor Lupin standing there, a gentle smile on his face. He held a stack of books in his arms, their spines worn and faded.

“A little,” you admitted, gesturing to the page. “This section on layered shield charms is… well, it’s a bit much.”

He set his books down and pulled up a chair beside you, his proximity sending a faint thrill through you. “Let’s see,” he said, leaning in to read over your shoulder. His voice was soft and soothing as he began to explain the concept, breaking it down into manageable pieces. As he spoke, his hand brushed yours briefly as he pointed to a diagram, the touch light but enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“That makes so much more sense,” you said when he finished, a smile breaking across your face. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re very welcome,” replied, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than expected. There was a softness in his expression, a quiet encouragement that felt like a promise—though a promise of what, you couldn’t quite say. You found yourself hoping for more of these moments, fleeting as they were, where the world around you seemed to fade and it was just the two of you.

Over the following weeks, these small interactions began to multiply. Sometimes it was the way his hand would briefly graze yours when passing back an essay, or the way his eyes would crinkle with genuine amusement when you shared a clever observation during class discussions. Other times, it was the unspoken understanding you felt during your private consultations, where the conversation would drift seamlessly from the intricacies of magic to literature, history, or even philosophy.

One evening, as autumn gave way to the chill of early winter, you found yourself wandering the castle grounds after dinner. The moon hung low in the sky, its silver light casting long shadows across the frost-kissed grass. You’d brought your notebook, intending to sketch out some ideas for an upcoming project, but instead, you found yourself simply walking, letting the quiet envelop you.

“Out for some fresh air?” came a familiar voice, startling you out of your thoughts.

You turned to see Professor Lupin leaning against the edge of a low stone wall, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. His robes looked heavier than usual, lined against the cold, and his scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck. He offered a small, lopsided smile, the kind that always made your heart flutter.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, moving closer. “Escaping the chaos of the castle?”

He chuckled softly, nodding. “Something like that. It’s nice to step away for a moment. Clear the head.”

You hesitated before sitting on the wall beside him, the stone cool against your hands. “Do you come out here often?”

“When I can,” he admitted. “It’s… peaceful. A rare commodity these days.”

You looked up at him, noting the faint lines of weariness around his eyes. “You must be exhausted,” you said, the concern in your voice unguarded. “Teaching all of us, managing everything…”

“It’s part of the job,” he said with a shrug, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But thank you. It’s kind of you to notice.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the distant rustle of wind through the trees. After a moment, you gathered the courage to speak again.

“You’re a really good teacher, you know. It’s not just the way you explain things—it’s the way you make us feel like… like it matters. Like we matter.”

He turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you worried you’d overstepped, but then he spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“That means more than you know,” he said. “Truly.”

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch, and you quickly looked away, your cheeks warming. To your relief, he shifted the conversation to lighter topics, asking about your project and offering advice that was both practical and insightful. The two of you talked until the cold began to seep into your bones, and he insisted you head back to the castle to warm up.

Beneath the surface, there was always the shadow of what couldn’t be said aloud. You both knew the boundaries that existed, even as the line between student and professor blurred into something more intimate. And yet, neither of you seemed willing—or able—to step away.

—-

Professor Lupin—Remus, as you’d begun to call him in the privacy of your thoughts—seemed to gravitate toward you just as you gravitated toward him. There was always a reason to linger after class, always a justification for a quiet conversation in his office, but the excuses were growing thinner with each passing day.

It was one such evening, after a particularly rigorous Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, that you found yourself in his office again. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the small, cluttered space. Books were stacked haphazardly on every surface, and a faint scent of parchment and tea hung in the air.

“You’ve outdone yourself with today’s essay,” he said, his voice warm with genuine praise. He held the parchment in his hands, his thumb brushing over the edges as he glanced at you. “Your analysis of nonverbal defense techniques was insightful, and your argument about their limitations was… well, brilliant, really.”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment, though you tried to hide it by looking down at your hands. “Thank you. I’ve had a good teacher.”

He chuckled softly, but there was something in his gaze that lingered longer than it should have. “You give me too much credit.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, daring to meet his eyes. “You’ve made me believe I can do more than I ever thought I could.”

For a moment, the room seemed to grow impossibly still. His smile faded into something softer, something almost hesitant. He set the parchment down on his desk, his fingers lingering on it for a moment before he folded his hands in his lap.

“I see so much potential in you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you hadn’t heard before. “You’re capable of things you don’t even realize yet.”

“Is that why you’ve been so patient with me?” you asked, your tone light but your heart racing.

“Patient?” he repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You make it sound like a chore. It’s not. It’s never been that.”

The weight of his words settled between you, heavy and charged. You weren’t sure who moved first—if it was him leaning forward or you—but suddenly the distance between you felt impossibly small. His hand reached out, hesitating for a brief second before his fingers brushed against yours. The touch was light, tentative, as though he were testing the boundaries of what was allowed.

“I shouldn’t—” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

But you interrupted him, your own voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. “I think we’ve both stopped asking what we should or shouldn’t do.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw the conflict warring within him—the weight of responsibility battling with the pull of something undeniable. Then, as if the tension became too much to bear, he closed the remaining distance between you.

The kiss was gentle at first, his lips brushing against yours like a question waiting for an answer. When you responded, leaning into him, the hesitation melted away. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he deepened the kiss. There was a desperation to it, as though he’d been holding himself back for far too long and could no longer resist.

The fire crackled softly in the background, the warmth of the room wrapping around you like a cocoon. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive under his touch, the world outside fading into insignificance. For a moment, it was just the two of you—no titles, no expectations, just a connection that felt raw and real.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in soft, uneven bursts. His hand remained on your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw.

“This…” he began, his voice hoarse. “This is dangerous.”

“I know,” you whispered, your own voice barely audible. “But it doesn’t feel wrong.”

He closed his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath. “No, it doesn’t. And that’s what scares me.”

You stayed like that for a while, the silence filled with the unspoken understanding that whatever this was, it couldn’t be undone. 

—---

It had been weeks since the first kiss, each stolen moment adding another layer to the unspoken understanding between you. It wasn’t just the kisses or the way his hand lingered on yours—it was the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. There was something in his eyes, a mixture of wonder and hesitance, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found yourself once again in Remus’s office. The castle was quiet, the only sounds the occasional creak of the old walls and the faint crackle of the fire. His office had become a second home to you.

“You’re lost in thought again,” Remus said, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. He was seated across from you, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. His eyes, warm and inquisitive, searched your face.

You smiled softly, setting your own cup down. “I suppose I am. It’s hard not to be, lately.”

“Something troubling you?” he asked, leaning forward slightly. The concern in his voice made your chest tighten.

You hesitated, unsure how to put your feelings into words. “Not troubling, exactly. Just… overwhelming. Everything feels so much bigger than me lately—school, the war, us…”

The last word slipped out before you could stop it, and your cheeks flushed as his expression shifted. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and you feared you’d said too much. But then he set his tea aside and reached out, his hand covering yours.

“Us,” he repeated softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “That’s a word I never thought I’d hear in this context. And yet, it feels… right.”

Your breath caught at his admission, your heart pounding in your chest. “It does,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The room seemed to shrink, the air between you charged with something electric. His hand tightened slightly around yours, and you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He wanted this—you could see it—but he was holding himself back.

“I’ve tried to tell myself all the time that we shouldn’t,” he said, his voice low. “That it’s too risky, too complicated. But the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You stood then, the need to close the distance between you overpowering. He followed your lead, rising to meet you as you took a tentative step closer. Your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his sweater.

“Then stop trying,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cradle your face. “You have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you.”

“Then show me,” you whispered.

The words were all the encouragement he needed. He kissed you, his lips capturing yours with a hunger that took your breath away. It was a kiss that spoke of weeks of restraint finally breaking, of emotions too strong to be contained. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair.

The sofa was only a few steps away, but it felt like an eternity as he guided you toward it. His movements were careful, his touch reverent, as though he were afraid of breaking the spell. When your legs hit the edge of the sofa, he hesitated, his gaze searching yours.

“We can stop at any time,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You say the word, and we’ll stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you said, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I want this. I want you.”

His breath hitched, and then he was kissing you again, more fiercely this time. He lowered you onto the sofa, his weight settling over you as his hands explored, each touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His lips moved to your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, as though he were memorizing every inch of you.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a mix of desire and restraint.

“You’re not,” you assured him, your own hands roaming, desperate to feel more of him. “Please, don’t stop.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Your response was a soft sigh, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. There was no rush, no urgency—only a deep, mutual need to be as close to each other as possible. Time seemed to stretch, each moment etched into your memory with perfect clarity.

He had just shrugged off his sweater, revealing the slightly faded button-down shirt he wore underneath. Your hands moved instinctively, reaching for the buttons to slide them open. His breath hitched, and then, suddenly, his hands came up to stop you. The look in his eyes was a mixture of vulnerability and hesitation, making your heart twist painfully in your chest.

“Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed hard, looking down at where your hands rested against his chest. “I… I have a lot of scars. I don’t want to scare you.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled gently, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You could never scare me, Remus,” you said with quiet sincerity. You leaned forward and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips. His tension melted slightly under your touch, and he gave a small, grateful smile in return.

Encouraged, your hands resumed their task, slipping the buttons of his shirt open one by one. He shivered slightly under your touch but didn’t stop you this time. Once the shirt joined his sweater on the floor, your hands roamed over his torso, tracing the raised, pale lines of the scars that criss crossed his skin. You didn’t flinch or look away. Instead, you admired the strength and resilience they represented, leaning down to place a tender kiss over one of them. Remus’s breath hitched again, but this time it wasn’t from fear.

Your hands moved lower, brushing against the waistband of his trousers. His sharp intake of breath was audible in the quiet room, and he hesitated for a brief moment before nodding slightly. You unfastened his belt, and he stood to step out of his trousers, leaving him standing before you in nothing but his boxers. As he slid those off as well, exposing himself to you fully, your eyes widened slightly, and a nervous laugh escaped him.

“Sorry, I just…” he began, but you cut him off with a soft smile.

“No, it’s okay, dear,” you assured him. Your eyes sparkled with affection as you leaned back against the cushions. “It will fit, don’t worry.”

His lips quirked up in a shy smile at your words, and his gaze roamed over you with a mixture of awe and desire. His hands moved to the hem of your skirt, lifting it slightly to expose the delicate lace of your panties. He bit his lip as his fingers hooked under the waistband to slide them down your legs.

“Darling,” he murmured, his voice husky, “I hope I’m the only professor you’re this wet for.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his teasing remark, and you hid your face behind your hands for a moment before peeking out to respond. “Of course. No one is as wonderful as you.”

He chuckled softly and grabbed your thighs, pulling you closer to him while your skirt bunched around your hips. You reached for the buttons of your blouse, slowly unfastening them as his eyes followed your every movement. When the blouse slipped from your shoulders, revealing your bare chest, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“No bra?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement. You smirked in response, shrugging playfully.

His hand moved to your tie, loosening it with the intent of tossing it aside, but you stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Wait,” you said, your voice soft but insistent. “Use it to tie me up… please.” Your eyes were wide and pleading, and he hesitated, his own cheeks flushing.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, his voice laced with concern.

“You won’t,” you reassured him, your voice filled with trust. “I want this, Remus.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing his nerves as he looped the tie around your wrists, securing it firmly but ensuring it wasn’t too tight. The silk of the tie felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between the two of you. His eyes flickered over your bound form, taking in the way you looked so willingly vulnerable for him. The sight sent a thrill racing through his veins, igniting a fire that made his hands tremble slightly as they traced delicately over your exposed skin. He hesitated, his touch reverent, as though he were afraid of breaking the spell between you.

He positioned himself between your thighs, the fabric of your skirt bunched around your hips, and his hand moved to guide himself. His tip brushed against your entrance, teasingly slow, and you squirmed beneath him, a soft whimper escaping your lips. When he finally pushed into you, your head fell back against the cushions, a gasp spilling from your lips as your body stretched to accommodate him. The sensation was overwhelming—a mix of pleasure and a hint of discomfort that quickly gave way to a delicious fullness.

“Oh my God, professor, fuck,” you gasped, your words slipping out before you could stop them.

Remus groaned deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest as his hands gripped your hips to hold you still. He stilled for a moment, his own breath ragged as he tried to steady himself. “God, dear,” he muttered, his voice thick with restraint. “I love it when you call me that. And you’re so tight… I’m not even sure you can take it all.”

The teasing lilt in his voice made your cheeks burn, and you whined in response, your tied hands flexing against the restraint. “No, I can take it,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Remus, I need you.”

His laughter was low and rich, vibrating against your skin as he leaned down to kiss you. “Such a needy little thing,” he murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down to your neck. His lips found a particularly sensitive spot, and he nibbled gently, drawing a shiver from you.

As he began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his hands wandered over your body, touching and caressing every inch he could reach. Each thrust pushed him deeper, and your moans grew louder, filling the room with the symphony of your shared pleasure. His pace quickened, and the angle shifted just slightly, sending sparks coursing through you. Your tied hands flexed uselessly above your head, and the restraint only heightened your senses, every touch and movement magnified.

“You feel so perfect,” Remus groaned, his voice raw with emotion. His lips continued to worship your neck, marking your skin with faint red imprints of his teeth and tongue.

The pleasure built steadily within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. Your release washed over you in a powerful wave, your body trembling and arching into him as you cried out his name. The intensity of your climax sent him over the edge as well. With a low, guttural moan, Remus pulled out at the last moment, his release spilling across your chest in warm, white streaks.

Both of you lay there for a moment, your breathing ragged and mingling in the quiet intimacy of the room. He reached for a nearby tissue, gently cleaning you up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers brushed against the tie still securing your wrists, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours.

You pouted slightly, and he noticed immediately, his expression softening. “What’s wrong, darling?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I wanted you to finish inside me,” you admitted, your voice tinged with disappointment.

He sighed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I… I’m scared of what might happen. I don’t want to risk making you pregnant. And there are… things about me you don’t know yet.”

You looked up at him with curiosity and concern, but you didn’t press him further. Instead, you cupped his face with your bound hands, offering him a small, understanding smile. “Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen,” you said softly.

Remus’s heart swelled at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you once more, silently vowing to himself that he would find a way to share his secrets with you when the time was right. For now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth and trust that flowed between you.

[narxcisse]

★ — Mama's boy Jason Todd headcanons

Jason Todd x Mother/Mother figure!Reader

CW: mention of Jason's death (+reader blames Bruce for his death), fluff, I did my best to keep it canon without romanticizing or fanonizing anything. 😭

English isn't my native language

Jason met you before his days as Robin, back when he was still living on the streets. You were one of the rare adults who didn’t look at him with pity or disdain but instead treated him with quiet respect. Maybe you ran a small diner, a shelter, or worked as a social worker with no patience for bureaucracy.

The first time Jason came into your life, he wasn’t looking for help. He was scrappy, full of fire, and incredibly proud, but you saw past the bravado to the hungry, clever kid beneath. You offered him food without strings attached, and from then on, he kept coming back.

When Bruce took him in, you were one of the few people he trusted enough to talk to. He didn’t tell you about being Robin outright, but you noticed he’d sometimes show up with bruises or a limp, his explanations half-hearted at best.

Jason sought your advice on everything—from school troubles to navigating the strange dynamics of the Wayne household. You often found yourself acting as a translator for his emotions when he struggled to articulate them.

He valued your opinion deeply. If you told him to apologize to Bruce for a fight or to take a break when he was pushing himself too hard, he’d grumble but almost always listen.

Even as Robin, Jason was fiercely protective of you. If he thought someone was giving you trouble or you were in any danger, his sharp instincts kicked in. “No one messes with my mom,” he’d mutter, even if you insisted you could handle yourself.

Jason’s growing disillusionment with Bruce often spilled into your conversations. You tried to mediate, understanding both sides but always prioritizing Jason’s feelings.

When he died, it broke you in a way you didn’t think was possible. You immediately blamed Bruce for letting him take on so much danger, not even letting him explain everything that happened. (Over time you apologized to him for what happened and understood that he was just as devastated as you were by Jason's death.)

When Jason came back as Red Hood, he avoided you for a long time. He didn’t think you’d accept him, not after everything he’d done. But when he finally worked up the courage to see you, he was stunned to find you opening your arms to him without hesitation.

“You’ve been through hell, Jason. I’m just glad you’re alive.” Those words stuck with him more than anything else anyone had said since his return.

You didn’t sugarcoat your disappointment in his methods, but you also didn’t try to control him. You understood that his pain and anger needed to run their course. Instead, you focused on reminding him that he still had someone who believed in him.

Jason acts tough, but around you, he’s a little softer. He loves the comfort of having someone who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than himself.

He calls you more than he calls anyone else. Sometimes it’s to rant, sometimes it’s just to check in. “You eat yet?” he’ll ask, even if he’s halfway across the world.

Whenever he’s in Gotham, he always makes time to visit you. He’ll bring little gifts—books he thinks you’ll like, a weird trinket from some mission, or your favorite snack.

Jason craves your approval more than he’d ever admit. When you compliment his growth or tell him you’re proud of him, he practically glows, even if he rolls his eyes and pretends to brush it off.

He’s fiercely protective of you, more so than anyone else. If he even suspects someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll show up unannounced, ready to “handle” it. You usually have to calm him down before he goes full Red Hood.

You’re one of the few people who can challenge Jason’s darker impulses without him lashing out. “You don’t have to agree with me, but at least think about it,” you’ll say, and he actually does.

When he’s struggling with his identity—whether he’s a hero, an anti-hero, an anti-villain or something else entirely (bro seriously thinks he's Barbie. 😭🙏)—you’re his anchor. You remind him that he’s more than his past, more than his mistakes.

Jason often credits you for keeping him grounded. He’ll never say it outright, but you’re one of the reasons he hasn’t spiraled further.

Jason fixing things around your home without being asked—tightening loose hinges, replacing lightbulbs, and even rebuilding your bookshelves because he “didn’t like the wobble.”

Late-night phone calls where he opens up about his fears and frustrations, his voice quieter and more vulnerable than usual.

Cooking together when he visits, even if he claims he’s “not great in the kitchen.” He loves hearing your stories as you work side by side.

The rare moments when he lets his guard down completely, resting his head on your shoulder or letting you ruffle his hair like he’s still the scrappy kid you first met.

Jason may be a complicated, broken man, but with you, he finds a sense of peace he doesn’t get anywhere else. To him, you’re not just a mother figure—you’re his family, his safe place, and the person who never gave up on him.

The first sign something was wrong was the way Jason entered your apartment—quiet, almost hesitant. He was usually a storm of energy when he visited, slamming the door behind him and announcing his arrival with some sarcastic quip. But today, he just slipped inside, set his helmet down carefully on the counter, and stood there, staring at nothing.

You didn’t need to ask if he was okay. You already knew he wasn’t.

“Jason?” you called softly from the couch, setting down the book you’d been reading.

He didn’t respond right away, just shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chair. His movements were slower than usual, less precise. It was like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, and for once, even his stubbornness couldn’t hold it up.

You stood and approached him carefully, giving him space to come to you if he needed it. “Rough day?”

He let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Something like that.”

You waited, not pressing him to elaborate. Jason had always been like this—he’d open up when he was ready, and not a second before.

For a moment, you thought he might brush you off entirely. But then, with a deep sigh, he turned to you, his expression a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “I don’t know. I just…” He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

That admission made your heart ache. Jason, who always acted like he didn’t need anyone, who carried his pain like armor, had come to you because he didn’t know what else to do.

Without a word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened for half a second—old habits, you supposed—but then he melted into the embrace, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I’m just so tired,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles on his back. “I know.”

He held onto you like you were a lifeline, his broad shoulders shaking slightly. You didn’t push him to explain, didn’t try to fix it. You just held him, letting him unload the weight he’d been carrying for who-knows-how-long.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Time didn’t seem to matter. Eventually, Jason pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes red but a little clearer.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He huffed out a small laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Yeah, well, don’t go getting used to this. I’m not turning into a softie or anything.”

You smiled, tapping his chest lightly. “Don’t worry. You’re still the toughest guy I know.”

Jason rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned into your touch again, letting his head rest on your shoulder. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to just be—a son needing his mom. And you were more than happy to give him what he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AN: I wrote this for my bestie, I hope you liked it. 💗🤺

[klaineharmony]

Why We Ship: Neo/Trinity (The Matrix)

I have not felt compelled to write one of these posts for a long time, but I watched The Matrix: Resurrections again while I was working this afternoon, and Goddess, I have so many feelings about these two.

I think it's hard to convey how utterly capitating the original Matrix was, back in 1999. And I could not have said, then, everything I can say about it now, because I didn't have the knowledge of myself, or the vocabulary, or simply the experience to be able to articulate why Neo and Trinity (and Trinity especially, but that's a separate post) felt like everything. Even apart from the incredible worldbuilding and commentary on society that was The Matrix itself, they were something special.

A lot of people got really salty and irritated with Resurrections because they felt like it was "less about the Matrix" and "more just about Neo and Trinity." And god damn, if that doesn't say everything about two different audiences who watched the original trilogy. If you didn't see that the whole trilogy was about Neo and Trinity's love from the beginning, then we were not watching the same films. Neo is The One because Trinity loves him; that is established in the first movie. He cannot be The One without her; he cannot believe in himself as The One without her and her love. "The Oracle told me that I would fall in love, and that the man I loved would be The One. So you see, Neo, you can't be dead. You can't be . . . because I love you." She literally brings him back from the dead with her love; she makes him The One because she loves him. She is the driving force behind all of it. And it's not a coincidence that Neo does the same for her in Reloaded; he catches her in midair, he pulls a bullet out of her body and keeps her from dying because she is everything to him.

And here I am, still writing a post that is more about Trinity than about Neo and Trinity together. But this is what still strikes me about them after all of these years: their love is complete and beautiful and all-consuming, but it is also grounded very firmly in the grim reality they are living. They are not blind about the fact that they could die; they know that every minute of every day, and every minute the spend in The Matrix, could be the last one. They do everything they can to keep that from happening, and they train with everything they have to try and prevent it, but they know, all the time, that one of them could lose the other. They cherish every moment they have, because they are living in this terrible world where another day is never a certainty. But even with all of that, and all that they feel, they are willing to fight, to do whatever needs to be done to try and bring down the machines and the Matrix. They do not shy away from what they see as their mission and their duty to others, even while they are so anchored in each other.

And it's part of what makes Revolutions so tortorous (I hated that movie when it came out; it broke my heart). They know. They've known it's coming; they've been waiting for it, and they go to die together. They still hope that somehow, they will make it, but if they don't, their entire intent is to die together. Because they love each other, they have literally saved each other's lives and brought each other back from the dead, and they have spent their entire time together trying to dismantle the Matrix. If they have to give up their lives to do it, then they will. And I think the thing that hurt so much, when I watched Revolutions as a much younger person (and who am I kidding, it still hurts) is that they still died apart. Trinity died first, and then Neo, and while Neo was with Trinity when she died, he had already been blinded and couldn't see her, and he died alone. And it felt like a betrayal of everything they were in the most gut-wrenching, soul-destroying way. Their love not only changed the world, it saved the world and destroyed the Matrix and altered the relationship between the machines and humans - and they still died apart.

I remember being emotionally devastated by that last film, so much so that I couldn't watch the trilogy again for years. I was so shattered by the ending, it hurt so much, that I couldn't bear to revisit it. And again, I don't know that I could have said that at the time, but I felt it.

When the trailer for Resurrections came out, I was so emotional the first time I watched it that I felt a little blindsided. I had packed away everything Neo and Trinity meant, because their ending hurt so much - and then there they were, on my screen again, getting another chance. Getting the second chance and the ending they should have had - defying the odds with their love one more time, and in an even more epic way. Neither of them is living, in the Matrix. As Thomas and Tiffany, they're existing. They're brainwashed. They barely remember who they used to be - Thomas is convinced it's all in his head, and Tiff is only Trinity when she's working on and riding her bikes. It's only when they find each other that they start to find themselves again. And even when Neo escapes and he's back in the real world, the hope of Trinity and his love for her is the only thing that keeps him strong enough to keep fighting, the only thing that allows him to access his former powers as The One.

They help each other survive. And it's complicated and difficult and not always pretty, and it's always in the midst of a world that is against them and trying to destroy them - but they survive because their love survives. They love together and fight together and survive together, always.

[levisolace]

[5] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 5: Paradis City

WC: 7117 Chapter Warnings: no warnings for this chapter. unedited, as always. Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: Unfortunately, there's not much Levi in this chapter so I updated this fast so you don't have to wait a long time just for Levi not to come up lol. This chapter holds more of reader's life now and subtle clues on why she left.

story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter

The campus was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of passing students and the rustle of leaves as a soft breeze swept through the courtyard. You and Levi were sitting on a low stone wall near one of the older buildings, the sun setting just beyond the skyline, casting long shadows over the worn paths crisscrossing the quad. The end of the semester of your second year was approaching, and with it, the inevitable questions about the future.

Levi, sitting next to you with his usual calm demeanor, was more quiet than usual, like he had something on his mind. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence, his voice steady but carrying a weight behind it.

“You ever think about leaving the city?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the horizon, watching as the last streaks of daylight began to fade.

The question caught you off guard. You glanced at him, seeing the faintest crease in his brow, like he was trying to keep the question casual but couldn’t quite manage it. You shifted on the wall, pulling your knees up to your chest, and thought about it for a moment.

“After we graduate?” you asked, already knowing that’s what he meant.

Levi gave a slight nod, still looking out at the skyline. “Yeah. You ever think about what’s next? Where you’d go?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with the fraying edge of your sleeve, thinking about the question. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it—what comes after graduation, where you’d go, what you’d do. You know what you want to happen. But leaving the city? That hadn’t crossed your mind, not really. You and your grandmother had lived all your lives in Paradis. Her house is comfortable and the thought of leaving your grandmother at her old age is terrifying. Taking her with you is also out of the question because of that. Besides, your grandmother owned that house for decades. It’s the only thing she has to her name. 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice quiet but thoughtful. “I guess a lot of people are thinking about moving away, starting fresh somewhere else. But… I’ve never really wanted that.”

Levi glanced at you, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath, trying to articulate what had always felt so clear to you but difficult to put into words.

“I’ve always liked it here,” you began, your eyes wandering over the campus—the familiar buildings, the cracked pathways, the way everything felt worn in, like it had its own stories to tell. “It’s not perfect. It’s far from it, actually.”

Levi’s gaze stayed steady on you, his expression unreadable but curious. You looked back at him, feeling the need to explain.

“This city…” you paused, gesturing vaguely around you, “it’s a mess. We know it’s also shitty, you know? It’s pretending to be perfect while the other side is The Underground. I know there’s kind of a stigma about them. And to be honest, living near The Underground scares me. But it’s not all black and white.”

You looked down at the worn stone beneath your feet, tracing the uneven texture with your eyes. “Not that I’m romanticizing it but I’ve grown comfortable with this city. I don’t really want to leave my home.”

It’s also where the people that matter to you are.

Levi was quiet, his expression softening in that subtle way he had when he was really thinking. You continued, feeling the words come more easily now.

“Everyone’s in such a rush to leave, to go somewhere new, somewhere shiny and perfect. It would be nice, yes, but Paradis is my home. Even if I one day leave, I know I’ll always come back.”

You paused, feeling a little self-conscious now that you’d said all of that out loud. But Levi didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was looking at you with a kind of quiet understanding.

Levi nodded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the horizon, where the sun had finally dipped below the skyline, leaving the campus bathed in a soft twilight.

“I get that,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation lingering between you but not in a bad way. It felt like something had settled, like an unspoken understanding had passed between you both.

Levi didn’t press further, didn’t ask if you wanted to leave or what your exact plans were. He didn’t need to. You both knew that the city—the imperfect, messy city—was more than just a backdrop to your lives. It was part of who you were. And even though Levi didn’t say much, you had a feeling he understood that better than most.

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples to fend off the headache that had been building all afternoon. It had been a particularly difficult week—multiple depositions, court hearings, and client meetings, all bleeding into one another. But that was the life you had chosen. You thrived on the chaos, on the adrenaline of standing before a judge and making your case, on the satisfaction of winning for your clients.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was a notification from your calendar, reminding you of a meeting you had tomorrow with a potential new client. You sighed, glancing at the clock. There was always something more to do. But this work has always been like this. In these times, you even crave it, wanting to distract your mind off of a raven-haired man. 

You glanced over at the window, where the skyline of the city stretched out before you, the tall buildings glinting in the setting sun. Paradis City. It’s a place you used to call home. Now, you feel like an outsider trying to fit yourself in. 

As you returned your attention to the case file in front of you, your mind drifted for a moment to the version of yourself who had once walked these same streets as a student, full of ambition and dreams, before you had any idea what the reality of this life would look like. 

A sharp knock on your office door jolted you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Pixis, your boss, standing in the doorway with his usual relaxed demeanor, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Still buried in paperwork, I see,” he said with a chuckle, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and you even swear he had the faint smell of whiskey on him—though that was nothing new for Pixis. It was something that concerned you for a while but for the past two months you’ve known him, you realize easily that it doesn’t take away that he’s a great lawyer and person. 

You straightened up in your chair, giving him a polite smile. “Just wrapping up a few things before calling it a night.”

Pixis raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pile of papers on your desk. “You always say that, but I’m beginning to think you never leave this place.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Pixis said, settling into the chair across from you. “I’m calling for a ceasefire on work tonight.”

You blinked, surprised. “A ceasefire?”

Pixis grinned, leaning back in the chair as if he had all the time in the world. “You heard me. We’re going out. The team’s having dinner tonight, and I won’t take no for an answer. I’ve already told the others. You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t gone to a single get-together. Didn’t they teach you in Trost to socialize?” 

You felt a pang of hesitation. Going out with the team was something you didn’t do often—not because you didn’t enjoy their company, but because your mind was always so focused on getting home and isolating yourself. Socializing wasn’t something that came easily to you these days.

“I appreciate the offer, but—” you started, but Pixis cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No buts. You’ve been working too hard, and I can’t have Vanessa’s best burning out on me or she’ll have my poor old head,” he said with a grin. “Besides, it’ll be good for morale. And I don’t care how dedicated you are to your work—you’ve got to eat.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that. Pixis was always one to look out for his team, even if his methods were unconventional. And, truth be told, you hadn’t had a proper meal all day. The idea of sitting down to a nice dinner, surrounded by familiar faces, wasn’t entirely unappealing. And God, do you miss Vanessa and the others.

“Where’s everyone meeting?” you asked, finally giving in.

“We’re setting it up at some new place in Stohess,” Pixis replied, standing up from the chair with a satisfied look. “Good food, good drinks. Nothing too fancy. It’ll be sent on the group chat later.” 

You nodded, appreciating his words more than you expected. Pixis, as Vanessa told you, had always been more of a mentor than just a boss, and moments like this reminded you why he commanded so much respect around the firm. 

“I’ll be there,” you said, feeling a little lighter now that the decision was made.

Pixis gave you a final nod and a wink. “That’s the spirit. See you tonight, then.”

As the door closed behind him, you glanced at the clock. You had a little over an hour before the dinner, which gave you just enough time to finish the last few bits of work and maybe freshen up before heading out.

The idea of stepping away from the office, even for one night, suddenly didn’t seem so bad. You leaned back in your chair, closing your laptop with a sense of finality. At least now, you’ll be able to see Paradis in all its glory and see what Levi has been saying about its change. 

The cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stepped out of your coworker’s car into Stohess Street, you couldn’t believe your eyes. This was the very same street where you used to spend your time after class, this was where Kuchel’s was located.

It was night time, and the street is filled with bright lights. What used to be a quiet, nearly forgotten corner of the city had transformed into a lively district, filled with bustling restaurants, trendy cafes, and stylish boutiques. The hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mingling with the scents of grilled meats and fresh-baked bread wafting from nearby eateries. 

You paused for a moment, taking it all in. Stohess had been one of those streets you’d walk down during your university days, back when the sidewalks were cracked, and most of the storefronts were either closed or run down. It had been quiet back then—dull, even. Now, it was anything but. Strings of lights hung across the street, casting a soft glow on the crowds below, and every corner seemed to offer a new place to explore.

You spotted your other coworkers gathered inside one of the newer restaurants at the end of the block, already deep in conversation. You felt a brief flicker of nerves as you approached. It had been a while since you joined the team for anything social, and though you were close with your coworkers, you still found yourself feeling like an outsider in moments like this. You had always preferred the quiet of your office, the comfort of routine, but tonight, something about the vibrant energy of Stohess felt inviting.

You wonder if Kuchel’s is still standing? If it survived the enhancement of the street? Before, it was the only restaurant here. Despite that, she had quite a number of regulars. 

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Pixis called out when he saw you, his grin wide as ever. “We were about to send a search party.”

You smiled, feeling the tension ease as you and the others joined the group. “Had to finish up some work,” you said, slipping into the circle. 

“Finally, we’ve been wanting to hangout with Pixis’ new hire,” someone from the group chimed in. You gave them a smile.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” I replied as we sat down. 

Everyone introduced themselves and their department. When the conversation began to drift away from you, you take the time to admire the establishment while eating.

The restaurant had an open, welcoming feel—high ceilings, rustic wooden tables, and an open kitchen where you could see the chefs at work. It was a far cry from the quiet, almost forgotten street it used to be. As you settled in, you couldn’t help but glance out the window at the street beyond, watching as people hurried by, heading in and out of the various shops and restaurants. It was hard to believe this was the same Stohess, the same place where you, Levi, Erwin, and Hange used to hangout in. It’s where Kuchel fed you meals that filled your stomach with love and motherly care. 

The food came out in waves—plates of grilled meats, fresh salads, and dishes you didn’t even recognize but were eager to try. The noise of the restaurant faded into the background as you ate and talked, losing yourself in the warmth of the moment.

As the dinner continued, the lively hum of conversation filled the air, along with the clatter of silverware and the occasional burst of laughter from your team. You were halfway through a plate of roasted vegetables when the door of the restaurant rang open. A tall man in a neatly pressed suit stepped inside, his expression calm and composed despite the boisterous atmosphere.

Pieck, one of the paralegals that’s seated across from you, looked up and cheered. “Nanami!”

The tall blonde man—Nanami Kento, you presumed—acknowledged her with a polite nod in return before his gaze shifted toward the rest of the table. His eyes briefly met yours before he approached Pixis, shaking his hand with the same understated professionalism that marked his entire demeanor. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady. “Got caught up with a client.”

“No worries, Nanami,” Pixis replied, patting him on the back as he gestured to an empty chair beside you. “We saved you a spot. Have a seat.”

Nanami moved with quiet efficiency, his presence almost subdued compared to the lively energy of your coworkers. He took the seat next to you with a nod in your direction, and you noticed how his movements were deliberate, precise—like someone who didn’t waste time or energy on unnecessary actions. There was something about him that reminded you of Levi, though with a bit more restraint and formality.

“You must be from the corporate law department,” you ventured, breaking the ice as he adjusted his tie.

He turned to you, his expression as composed as ever. “That’s correct. And you’re the new one from the family department, I assume?”

He turned to you, his expression as composed as ever. “That’s correct. And you’re from litigation, I assume?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m working on the class-action lawsuit involving the stock manipulation case.”

Nanami’s brow lifted ever so slightly in recognition. “Ah, I’ve heard about that one. High stakes. I imagine it’s been keeping you busy.”

You chuckled softly, swirling the wine in your glass. “Busy might be an understatement.”

He gave a small nod of understanding. “Corporate’s been hectic as well. Mergers, acquisitions—there’s always something.”

The conversation between the two of you flowed naturally, despite Nanami’s reserved demeanor. You found that, while he wasn’t particularly talkative, he had a quiet intellect and a sharp wit that revealed itself in subtle ways. There was a calmness to him that was almost soothing amidst the more boisterous energy of the team dinner. You can already tell that you’ll be getting along well. 

The conversation around the table continued, light and full of anecdotes about the latest cases, legal dramas, and a few well-timed jokes courtesy of Porco. But you found yourself intrigued by Nanami. Unlike many of the other senior lawyers, he had a quiet presence that demanded respect without saying much.

Eventually, you turned to him again. “Do you make it to these dinners often?”

Nanami shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not really. Usually, I’m tied up with clients. But Pixis can be… persuasive.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “I think that’s his talent. He has a way of getting us to take a break, even when we don’t want to.”

Nanami gave a slight chuckle, a rare sound from someone as composed as him. “It’s necessary, I suppose. Especially in this line of work.”

As the night began to settle, the conversation around the table started to thin out, with most of your coworkers drifting into smaller groups. You found yourself once again next to Nanami, who was calmly finishing his drink as the ambient noise of the restaurant hummed in the background. The light above the table cast a warm glow, making the lively street outside feel distant for a moment.

You tilted your head slightly, curious. “How long have you been in Paradis, Nanami?” 

“I’ve been here for four years,” he replied simply. “I moved here for the job.” 

“Do you like it here? The city? What do you think of it?”

Nanami glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he set down his glass. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to answer, but then he let out a quiet sigh, more out of reflection than fatigue.

“It’s… complicated,” he said, his eyes drifting to the window, watching the flickering lights of Stohess Street and the stream of people passing by. “When I first moved here, I thought it was overwhelming. The noise, the people, the constant movement. It felt… impersonal, in a way.”

You sigh, nodding in an understanding manner. “It didn’t used to be like this, you know?” 

That intrigued Nanami and he raised a brow. “Oh? You were from here?”

“Lived here all my life until I moved out seven years ago,” you admitted, leaning forward slightly. “It’s crazy how the city’s changed. I remember when this street was basically dead. Now it’s the place to be.”

Pixis, having heard of the conversation, chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “That’s the city for you. Always changing, whether you like it or not.”

“I didn’t know the city can change so much in seven years.” The tiny amount of alcohol must be getting to you, making you pout a little, something a bit out of character.

His words, simple as they were, hit you in a way that made you pause. The city had changed, yes, just as Levi said. And in many ways, the chaos of your life mirrored the transformation of Stohess—a once quiet, predictable space, now filled with complexity and vibrancy. But why was this information being fed to you lately? What is it to you that the city is no longer it used to be? This city that pushed you away? 

“I used to work on this same street. On the only known restaurant here before,” I shared, feeling nostalgic and missing that time of my life again.

“Hold up,” Porco raised a hand with wide eyes. “You’re telling me you worked at Kuchel’s before?” 

“Yeah, I worked part-time there during my college years,” I replied, confused as to why it’s a big deal. 

“Wow, that’s kinda iconic,” Gabi, one of the interns, reacts.

You don’t hide your confusion, chuckling a little with furrowed brows. “What exactly am I missing here?”

Pieck, who had been mid-sip of her drink, nearly choked in surprise. “Kuchel’s? The same place that practically owns the entire block now?”

“So you probably know the Ackermans?” Pixis asked, his cheeks reddened and eyes fazed from the excessive drinking. It doesn’t look like he’s out of it though.

You blinked, even more confused now. “The whole block? What do you mean? And what of the Ackermans?”

Pixis nodded, equally astonished. “Yeah, Kuchel’s isn’t some small restaurant anymore. They’ve taken over Stohess Street. You’ve been away from the city, right? I guess you haven’t seen it but the Ackermans practically revamped the whole street, if not the whole city.” 

You stared at him, genuinely taken aback. “No, I didn’t realize. I’ve been away for the past seven years. I didn’t know it had grown that much.”

It was just a small, cozy place. Kuchel ran it herself and had no intentions of making it as they were describing the business now. It had to be Levi. That would explain all the wealth he had. But it didn’t occur to you that he would be able to accomplish much in the past seven years. Not that you think he’s incapable of it. It’s just… surprising. It even makes you feel a little proud—a feeling that you quickly buried. You don’t really have a reason to feel that way. 

Porco chuckled. “Well, times have definitely changed. Kuchel’s is the restaurant now. They’ve expanded, got two more locations across the city, and they’re practically a landmark here on Stohess Street. People come in from different cities to taste their food.” 

“Tell me about it. I interned once from a company and they had me reserve a table. The waiting is for at least four months! It’s ridiculous,” Falco shared. 

You couldn’t hide your surprise. In your mind, Kuchel’s was still that quiet, modest restaurant where you spent long nights waiting tables between exams. You remembered Kuchel herself—humble and hardworking, always talking about keeping the restaurant personal and authentic. The idea of her running an empire now felt surreal.

“I had no idea,” you said softly, glancing out the window at the bustling street. It now occured to you that this is what Levi meant when he said this city has changed more than you know. 

Nanami, who had been silently listening from his seat next to you, finally spoke up, his calm voice cutting through your thoughts. “Seven years is a long time to be away. The city can change fast, especially a place like this.”

You nodded slowly, still processing the idea. “Yeah… I guess I wasn’t expecting it to change so much. I knew some things would be different, but Kuchel’s… it was like a second home back then. It’s strange to think of it as something so big now.”

Pieck gave you a sympathetic smile. “I bet it feels weird, coming back to a place that’s so different from what you remember.”

Pixis leaned forward, grinning. “Well, you should check it out. Who knows, maybe Kuchel remembers you. You might get the VIP treatment.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I doubt it. I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

That and if Levi hates you now, she probably does too. You fear that even if it wasn’t you that reserved a table, she might even kick you the moment you stepped out of the restaurant. Even though you know that Kuchel wouldn’t have it in her heart to do that, your shame and anxiety gets the better of your thoughts as always.

“I actually have a reserved dinner table for the next weekend there given to me by a client after I won a case for them,” Nanami said suddenly, and you silently thank him in your mind for changing the topic. “Corporate people are wealthy people with connections,” he says with a face that doesn’t look arrogant but more of exhaustion. Although he carries himself with poise and professionalism, Nanami genuinely looks like he’s in dire need of a vacation. It seems like you found yourself another workaholic like you. 

“No way! Are you going with someone?” Pieck asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Nanami thinks for a moment, tilting his head. “Well… the table is for two. But I plan on going alone.”

“You should definitely bring someone,” Pixis chimed in. “Go get yourself a date and relax, Nanami. Life shouldn’t be all about work at your age.” 

The blonde stayed silent in deep thought but he did smile politely for Pixis. “Or if you don’t want to, why don’t you bring our new girl over here? You workaholics both need a breather.” 

And just like that, it’s once again your turn to be put on the spot. Everyone at the table looks at you and Nanami in excitement. With widened eyes, you immediately refuse. “Oh, please, you don’t have to do that, Nanami. Pixis…” You almost plea with your boss using your eyes to take back his words. 

Pixis opens his mouth again but Nanami interrupts him, shocking you. “That’s actually a good idea. Would you want to come with me?”

“I couldn’t possibly impose.” You start thinking about how to get out of this while wondering why Nanami actually agreed. You hoped he didn’t. 

“Oh, yes, you could. Maybe you could even see one of the Ackermans and get your own reservation! Maybe get the team a table?” 

The atmosphere at the table grew lighter, but you couldn’t ignore the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Nanami had just thrown you into an unexpected spotlight, and you found yourself struggling to figure out how to respond. You blinked, your mind racing for a way to politely decline without making the situation awkward.

Nanami, sitting calmly beside you, didn’t seem fazed by the suggestion. His composed demeanor didn’t reveal whether he was truly interested in the idea or just going along with Pixis’ suggestion out of politeness. Still, there was a gentleness in his expression—no pressure, just a simple offer hanging in the air between you.

“I don’t think I could manage a reservation with the Ackermans,” you said, trying to shift the focus away from yourself and back to the others. “Besides, Nanami’s the one with the connections here, not me.”

Porco grinned, raising his glass. “Come on, don’t be shy. It’s not every day you get an invite to dinner at Kuchel’s.”

“You two would be the envy of everyone,” Pieck added with a playful wink. “I mean, imagine us mere mortals trying to get in there without waiting months.”

Pixis laughed. “You should definitely take the chance. Plus, it’ll give you both a break from work.”

You let out a small laugh, hoping to diffuse the attention. “It sounds tempting, but I’m sure Nanami has someone else in mind he’d rather take. I mean, who goes to dinner with their coworker when they can invite anyone?”

Nanami, who had been quiet during the back-and-forth, turned to you with a soft smile, his voice low and considerate. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. But there’s no pressure, of course. It’s just dinner.”

There was something so simple and straightforward in the way he said it that your initial hesitation began to wane. The offer wasn’t loaded with expectation; it was just an opportunity to share a meal in a place that held memories for you, and perhaps, as Pixis had suggested, to relax. You glanced back at Nanami, noticing the subtle tiredness beneath his composed exterior. In that moment, you realized you were both in need of a break—from work, from the pressures of the city, from everything.

“Alright,” you said slowly, almost surprising yourself as the words left your mouth. “I’ll go.”

The table erupted into cheers and light applause, with Pieck and Porco exchanging triumphant high-fives while Pixis gave you an approving nod. Nanami simply nodded, as calm and composed as ever, though there was a flicker of something warmer in his eyes.

“Great,” he said, his tone measured but sincere. “I’ll text you the time this weekend.”

Pieck leaned in, her voice teasing. “Well, now we’re all jealous. You two better enjoy it.”

As the conversation moved on to other topics, you sat back in your chair, still processing what had just happened. You hadn’t expected the evening to take this turn, nor had you thought about spending time with Nanami outside of work. He was a bit of an enigma—calm, collected, and quietly competent—but beneath that exterior, you sensed there was more to him. Maybe this dinner would reveal a side of him you hadn’t yet seen.

Either way, you found yourself oddly curious about how the evening at Kuchel’s would unfold. Maybe, for the first time in a long while, you’d allow yourself to enjoy the city again. Even if it was just for one night.

The following weekend arrived more quickly than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, you were standing outside Kuchel’s, the restaurant that now dominated Stohess Street. It had been years since you last stepped foot in the area, and the sight before you was almost unrecognizable. 

Nanami stood beside you, looking as composed as always. His suit was tailored perfectly, and despite his usual calm demeanor, there was a subtle shift in him tonight. Maybe it was the change of pace, stepping out of the office, or the significance of the restaurant itself. He caught your glance and offered a small smile, as if sensing your quiet apprehension.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady but soft.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s strange seeing it like this.”

As you walked into Kuchel’s, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. Though the restaurant had expanded, its essence remained the same. The decor was more refined now, with soft lighting and elegant wooden furniture, but there was still a warmth to it. The scent of fresh herbs and cooking meats wafted through the air, a familiar comfort that made your shoulders relax despite the high-end surroundings.

The hostess greeted Nanami with a nod of recognition, leading you both to a private table near the back. It was quiet, away from the main bustle of the restaurant, giving the two of you some much-needed reprieve from the noise of the city outside.

“Thank you,” Nanami said to the hostess, who left you both with menus. He glanced at you once you were seated. “I hope this isn’t too overwhelming. I didn’t realize you hadn’t been back here in so long.”

You offered him a small smile, feeling more at ease now that you were inside. “It’s a bit surreal, but in a good way. I’m glad I came.” You paused, your eyes scanning the menu, then added, “And I appreciate the invitation.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze flickering across the restaurant before returning to you. “It’s nothing. I thought it would be nice to get out of the usual routine, and… I’ve heard a lot about this place from my clients. Seems like it holds some memories for you.”

You chuckled softly, placing the menu down. “More than I realized, actually. Back then, this was just a small family-owned spot. It’s kind of hard to believe it’s grown into something like this.”

Nanami’s eyes softened. “It must be strange to see it change so much.”

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, watching the patrons around you. “Yeah… I always felt like this place represented something simple. Quiet. Now it’s this buzzing, high-end place, and I’m not sure what to think.”

Nanami remained silent for a moment, giving you space to process. Then, he leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Places change. People do too. But sometimes, it’s not as different as it seems on the surface. There’s always something familiar, something worth remembering.”

You blinked at his words, surprised by the depth in them. He had a way of cutting through to the heart of things without much effort. “I guess you’re right. I didn’t expect to feel this way coming back here.”

You glanced at him, wondering how someone who always seemed so in control, so composed, could also carry a quiet sense of longing and understanding beneath that exterior. Maybe Pixis had been right. You and Nanami were alike in more ways than you had thought—both of you workaholics, both of you wrestling with the weight of your own expectations.

The waiter appeared, breaking the silence as he took your orders. You opted for something simple—something that reminded you of your college days here—while Nanami chose one of the house specialties. After the waiter left, the conversation picked up again, a little lighter this time.

“So,” Nanami said, leaning back in his chair with a rare, relaxed posture. “What was it like working here? I imagine it was a lot different than the law office.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Very different. I mostly waited tables, cleaned up after shifts. It was exhausting but rewarding in its own way. I liked the people I met—the college friends I made here. They really helped me out during those years.”

Nanami nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s admirable. I’m glad you had people who were there for you. Being a working student isn’t an easy task.”

You smiled, appreciating the shared sentiment. “Exactly. I think they were what kept me going–what made the experience memorable.” 

Nanami’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply taking in the atmosphere. It felt… peaceful. Different from the rushed, stressful energy of the office. Here, in this familiar but transformed place, there was space to breathe, to reflect.

When the food arrived, the conversation continued, flowing easily between work anecdotes and personal reflections. Nanami, despite his composed exterior, revealed snippets of himself—a man dedicated to his craft but aware of the toll it took on him. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing in his company, grateful for the unexpected invitation and the quiet camaraderie it had brought.

By the time dessert was served, you were no longer thinking about the changes that had happened to Kuchel’s or the city. Instead, you were just enjoying the present moment—something you hadn’t done in a long time. Besides, if the restaurant had grown into what they said it had, you probably won’t see any Ackerman in here. 

As you finished the last bite of your meal, Nanami leaned back, his gaze steady on you. “I think Pixis was right. We both needed this.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I think so too.”

As you and Nanami lingered over the last sips of your drinks, the warm ambiance of Kuchel’s seemed to envelope you. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation filled the air, but your conversation had quieted into a companionable silence. It had been a surprisingly pleasant evening, one that neither of you seemed in a rush to end. Suddenly, the people around you turned more quiet, looking in one direction. 

You looked up sharply, your heart skipping a beat. There, near the entrance, stood Levi Ackerman. His posture was relaxed but firm as he made his way into the place. You dropped your fork in shock, the utensil making a loud sound as it hit the porcelain plate. You curse yourself in your mind.

But before you can even hide yourself somehow, Levi turned, and his eyes fell on you. For a second, his gaze lingered before it shifted to Nanami beside you. A brief flicker of surprise crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual neutral expression. 

He made his way toward your table, his steps quiet and deliberate as always. Unlike since you last saw him, this Levi looked different as you remembered—sharp, composed, with that ever-present air of authority that somehow fit him so well.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Levi said, his tone even but laced with the barest hint of curiosity. His eyes flicked to Nanami again, sizing him up before returning to you. “Small world.”

Nanami, ever composed, offered a polite nod. “You must be the owner.”

Levi gave a faint nod in return. “Levi Ackerman. This place belonged to my mother.” His attention shifted back to you, and for the briefest moment, something softened in his gaze.

You blinked, still trying to process the fact that Levi was standing right in front of you. Memories from your time together—at university, at Kuchel’s, before everything had changed—rushed back, but you kept your voice steady. “Yeah, it has. I didn’t even know Kuchel’s had grown so much.”

Nanami’s eyes shifted between the two of you, picking up on the subtle history that lingered beneath the surface. “It’s a beautiful place,” he said, his tone respectful but distant, sensing the dynamic. “Thank you for the hospitality.”

Levi nodded once. “I’ll let you finish your meal.” He turned to leave but hesitated for a second, looking at you again.

With that, he walked back toward the kitchen, leaving you and Nanami in a silence that felt heavier than before. You could feel Nanami’s gaze on you, quiet but probing.

“Old friend?” he asked softly, though the question carried a weight of understanding.

You exhaled, glancing down at your empty plate before meeting Nanami’s eyes. “Yeah… something like that.”

Nanami didn’t press further, and you were grateful for his quiet understanding. The rest of the evening passed in a peaceful silence, the weight of nostalgia sitting comfortably between you both, until it was time to leave.

As you and Nanami stood up to leave, the night air of Stohess Street filtered through the open doors of Kuchel's, cool and refreshing against the warmth of the restaurant. You grabbed your coat, glancing at Nanami, who had already slipped into his usual calm composure. The evening had been unexpectedly pleasant, and the subtle connection you’d shared made you feel more at ease.

Just as you step out, you heard the faint chime of the entrance door swinging open. A familiar figure appeared in the doorway—Kuchel Ackerman herself.

She looked exactly as you remembered: graceful, yet with an air of quiet authority. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few silver strands woven through the dark, giving her a look of timeless elegance. 

Kuchel stopped when she saw you, her eyes widening with recognition and surprise. For a moment, she stood there, taking you in, as if trying to place you in the timeline of the restaurant’s long history.

"You," she murmured, her voice soft with disbelief but soon warming with familiarity. "It can't be."

Your heart raced and your nerves are all over the place. It’s one thing to be seen by Levi but another thing to also see the other Ackerman that holds much of your heart. 

Her face broke into a smile walking up to you with the same gentle but firm presence she had when you were younger. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her voice filled with both surprise and delight. “It’s been… what? Seven years?”

You smiled, taking a step toward her. "Kuchel. It’s been too long." You nodded, feeling the years stretch between you. “Yeah, seven years. I only just came back.”

Kuchel looked you over, her expression warm, though touched with nostalgia. “You haven’t changed much, except… you look more like you belong in one of those big offices now.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I guess a lot has changed. But this place…” You gestured around Kuchel’s. 

She tilted her head, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s grown so much, hasn’t it? Levi’s been working hard to expand.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you replied, thinking back to your earlier conversation with Levi. “It’s amazing what you’ve done here.”

Kuchel’s gaze flickered toward Nanami, who stood quietly beside you, ever the composed observer. “And who’s this?”

You introduced him, and Nanami gave a small, respectful nod. Kuchel returned his greeting with a knowing smile, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Another lawyer, huh? You sure know how to pick your friends,” she teased lightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

Nanami, ever polite, added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your restaurant is exceptional.”

Kuchel smiled, clearly pleased. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She glanced back at you. “I should have guessed you’d find your way back here eventually. This place has a way of pulling people in.”

You smiled softly. “It really does. I’m glad I came.”

Kuchel reached out, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Don’t be a stranger now that you’re back. This place is always open for you.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that had been missing for a while. “I won’t.”

Her expression is softer now, with a smile that carried the warmth of an old friend. “Actually, Before you go… how about you join me for dinner sometime next week? Just us,” she added with a glance at Nanami, as if sensing this had been more of a business dinner. “I’d love to catch up properly. It’s been too long, and I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about.”

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling the weight of time between the last time you sat down with Kuchel and now. The thought of stepping back into that part of your life, of Levi’s life, even for a night, stirred something inside you—nostalgia, perhaps, or a little trepidation. But Kuchel’s invitation felt genuine, and you knew, deep down, that reconnecting with her might be exactly what you needed.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’d love that, Kuchel.”

Kuchel’s face lit up, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I’ll even be the one to cook something special,” she teased, though you could tell she wasn’t entirely joking. 

Nanami, who had been standing quietly by your side, gave a subtle nod of approval. “It sounds like a perfect opportunity to reconnect.”

You glanced at him, grateful for his understanding, before turning back to Kuchel. “I won’t forget,” you promised.

“Good.” Kuchel smiled once more before retreating back into the restaurant, leaving you standing at the threshold of the bustling street, feeling strangely at peace.

As you and Nanami finally walked away from Kuchel’s, the cool night air wrapping around you, the quiet between you was no longer awkward or heavy. Instead, it felt comfortable—a shared understanding of the complexities of the past and the people who shaped it.

Nanami glanced at you, his tone measured but kind. “You’ve got a lot of history here.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking back at the restaurant, now glowing behind you in the night. “I do.”

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

[uh-niran-really]

Reader x Lifeweaver - Talks with his bestfriend

Content: Cute, Warm and Fluffy!

Word Count: 1,000+

A/N: I think Symmetra deserves some love, a lot of people don’t seem to like her much especially where Lifeweaver is involved. I think she would make the sweetest friend and want nothing but happiness for Niran. I adore their friendship so much! Awhhh they are so cute! Also wanted to post something whilst I’m working on my next request! 🪷 Enjoy!

It was late and you found yourself cuddling with your boyfriend Niran Pruksamanee on his plush sofa. He was fast sleep with you wrapped up in his arms. You felt so comfortable around him, so natural. He was the best partner you could ask for. His breathing was shallow and he looked so peaceful like this. You couldn’t help but cup his cheeks and kiss him.

“Oh. Hello Y/N, I’m sorry I thought you left.”

Satya, Niran’s roommate, was a little awkward around you. She wasn’t great in social situations and Niran was always her support system. You often smiled at the way Niran treated her, made you fall harder for him. Satya was always kind to you, she tried her best wanting her best friend to thrive with you.

“Hi Satya. You’re up late.”

“Yes, well I have a lot to do so..”

She was carrying a bunch of books back to her room. You were surprised she had even stopped to say hello, usually she did not. She worked so hard all the time. Niran didn’t mention much about her job, he wasn’t fond of it. From what you gathered the pair used to go to school together and Niran left shortly before graduating, leaving Satya behind. A tragic story, one that broke your heart when he told you.

“Please don’t let me stop you, you work so hard.”

You wanted her to like you too, she was very kind from what you could tell, just a little more blunt and straight to the point. She was very good at articulating what she wanted from a situation, but tonight she seemed off.

“It’s not that. I am… intrigued.”

“How so?”

Satya smiled, it was rare for her to do so, not that she wasn’t happy or anything like that. She just expressed herself much differently to how you or Niran would. Still you took this as a sign that the two of you were getting closer. You watched as she took a seat on the sofa beside you and Niran, who was still very much asleep.

“You and Niran. I am intrigued by your relationship.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Does he treat you well? Am I in the way too much? Do I overstep? Should I move out?”

You smile back at her. She often had a tendency to blurt things out and hope for the best. Niran did wonders for her and she had come along way apparently. She began to stim with her hands, very nervous that she was causing you problems that just weren’t there. She only ever had good intentions with you and Niran. It was endearing to know she fully supported your love.

“Oh no, Satya! Don’t think like that. Yes Niran treats me like a Princess. He’s so kind and sweet. He’s perfect really.”

You reach out tentatively to touch her arm. She nods and you do, feeling connected in this moment, as friends.

“You don’t overstep, I know you and Niran are super close. It makes me smile to see the two of you interact in the way you do. Reminds me how sweet he is to everyone. Not a bad bone in his body. I love visiting Niran here rather than having him at my place because I get to see you too Satya.”

You really did like her. It was something Niran stressed about when looking for a partner. Satya was a main character in his life, he adored her with all that he was, just like he loved you. He made it very clear when you first started dating that Satya was a close friend. He didn’t need you to get along like best friends, but he said it would be helpful to have you both tolerate each other. He loves you both after all.

“That is.. so kind of you Y/N. I can see why Bua likes you. I want to be.. umm..”

She stimmed harder. She had an intricate way of touching her fingertips together in a certain order before shaking her wrists out and starting again. She often did this and it didn’t bother you one bit. You felt honoured that she was comfortable enough with you to do so.

“Friends?” You offer with a smile.

“Would that be alright?”

“I would love that Satya!”

The relief that washed over her was beautiful to see. She instantly relaxed and slowed her stim. You felt good making her feel more comfortable around you. You would hug her but Niran still had a tight sleepy grip around your waist, showing he loved you regardless of sleep or not.

“Niran is a lucky man huh!”

“Bua is the luckiest person I know.”

“I’m glad he has a friend like you Satya. You’re just what he needs. I’m happy to be your friend too!”

She smiles again and this time looks up at you, a rare occurrence for you two, it felt so special. You offer her another small smile just as Niran stirs awake.

“Huh… wha…Oh my two favourite people!”

“Hi sleepyhead!” You tease as Satya stands up again to return to her room. It was so nice talking with her. It felt amazing to know she supported you both, Niran wanted this so badly.

“Satya?”

“Yes Y/N?”

“Let’s go for coffee tomorrow? Just the two of us.”

“I would like that, very much.”

Niran gasps and hugs you tighter before kissing you on the cheek, delighted that the two of you were on the path to being friends.

“Oh my darling, this makes me so happy! Satya is such a delight! You’ll honestly love her as much as I do!”

“I already do Niran, I just wanted her to get used to the idea first.”

Niran smiled again resting his head on your shoulder sighing in relief. He worried so much that Satya would feel left out, so it amazing to know you wanted to include her too. She only ever wanted friends and a support system after all.

“Thank you, for accepting her.”

“I love you Niran, both of you.”

“I love you too, We both do.”

[sahrii]

A Manga Date ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

contains: Chifuyu x fem!reader but can be read as gn!reader.

in which Chifuyu’s idea of a manga date results in your first kiss

a/n: This isn’t proofread!! so there might be some spelling/grammar mistakes but hopefully not!! also this will kind of start a series where toman members take you you on dates that matches their likes/hobbies like chifuyu taking you on a manga date, mitsuya on a date where he teaches you sewing or tailoring (hopefully this makes sense) but yeah, please enjoy and have a good day or night guys!!!! <3

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Nothing other than yours and chifuyu’s soft breathes and the occasional gasps of awe and chuckles tiptoeing out of Chifuyu’s mouth could be heard in your room, punctuated by the gentle rustles of manga pages turning.

The both of you were currently seated in a love seat in your room, knees and sides touching as both of you had a manga in your hands after Chifuyu proposed the idea of a manga date.

You and Chifuyu have been dating for a few months now but you haven’t gotten to a point where a kiss was shared between the both of you, and you were always okay with it.

Well, up until now.

You’ve been gaping at a panel of Chifuyu’s so called favorite romance manga for the past half an hour. The panel depicted a tender first kiss, forcing a familiar yet tantalizing sensation to creep in. The simple act portrayed in the manga now ignited an unspoken yearning within you, a desire that had previously remained dormant.

Your mind kept wandering into the uncharted territory of what it might feel to touch chifuyu’s lips with yours. The mere thought made your blood dance in curiosity.

While contemplating whether your should voice your thoughts or suppress them as just thoughts, your train of thought was cut off by Chifuyu’s arm draping around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest and radiating warmth onto your body.

“Everything okay, y/n? Liking the plot?”

“Y-yeah! I can see why this is your favorite manga,” hesitation seemed evident in your voice but you prayed that he wouldn’t notice.

“I know! It’s so good, wait till you read the second volume, you’ll love it!” he replied excitedly, happy about the fact that you are enjoying it.

The both of you were again surrounded by silence, but this time, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Chifuyu’s lips. Desire was getting to you and you couldn’t suppress it, not this time at least.

After a few minutes of stealing occasional glances and gaping at the panel, Chifuyu broke the silence.

“Y/n…is—is there something on my lips?” chifuyu chuckled, slightly embarrassed as he brushed his bottom lip to ensure that nothing was there.

brush my lips as well! something inside of you voices as you were caught off guard, flustered by the fact that he did notice.

“H—huh? N—no, its just…” You trailed off, unable to articulate a single thought as your cheeks flushed crimson.

“Is that so..?”

You gulped as you nod, embarrassment swimming around you.

You then hear chifuyu hum and say “y’know, if you wanna kiss me that badly you can just ask for it,”

You drop the manga in an attempt to hide your pink cheeks with your hands.

“T—that’s not it,” you protest into your hands as you could feel your heart beating faster by the second, embarrassment captivating your body and every thought of yours.

“Awh, what a shame. And here I thought we were gonna share our first kiss today, but I guess we’ll save that for another time,” he unknowingly teases you as he’s able to read every small gesture you make.

Although you truly wanted the kiss, you felt embarrassed and so, disappointment sank deep within you as a frown made it’s way up to your face, hidden by your hands.

But then, what caught you off guard even more was the way Chifuyu’s fingers brushed against your face, moving some of your hair away from your and forcing you to drop your hands and meet Chifuyu’s gaze.

A gaze filled with need more than want, screaming at you to come closer, to which you did.

And with hands cupping your face, you were pulled onto Chifuyu.

The warmth of his breath collided against your lips, making your breath hitch in response. An instinct instructed you to close your eyes whole both your lips met in a hesitant yet tender kiss. A kiss filled with unspoken emotion that has been lingering within you for too long. He tasted sweet, and you wanted more, or rather, needed more.

The sweet and innocent exchange that spoke volume without words came to a halt as the both of you pulled away, and a moment of quiet remained in the air. But Chifuyu being Chifuyu, decided to break the silence with a sense of humor, to which you were grateful for.

“Who knew a manga date would break our kiss record that I worked so hard to maintain,” he jokes to which you shrug in response.

“Blame it on that cliché manga of yours for giving me ideas,”

“Oh really? So was the kiss up to my cliché manga standards?” he cocked an eyebrow.

You jokingly contemplated the answer, a smirk making it’s way up to your lips. “Hmm, needs a bit more of a drama, maybe? Oh I know! We should get stuck in the janitors room once, that’ll add up the spice,”

A chuckle escaped out of Chifuyu’s lips as he leaned to give you an affection peck on the cheek.

“Yeah? Fine then, I’ll plan a more cinematic scene for next time’s kiss if you’d like that,”

[rescue-ram]

hawktrap, and if someone got there before me, beejhawk

(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) TrapHawk ✨

Ship It

1. What made you ship it?

Waugh, the first MASH episode I remember seeing was Dr. Pierce and Mr. Hyde, and the funny-turns-touching caretaking instantly set off the little shippy bulb in my brain. I love best friend ships, I love the love and affection between them, I love that they're a paired set and the support they show, and I feel like there's a really special quality to their friendship that makes them feel Very Important to each other. Plus they have great chemistry.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Kfksjsj low key got ahead of myself there. But the thing that keeps me hooked is how flexible they ss characters and their dynamic is. I feel like there's lots of angles you can take and lots of scenarios to explore while still keeping the characters in line with what we see in the show. I love that they're in sync 95% of the time, but those little gaps leave just enough room for drama or angst. I love that they're inveterate kinksters AND softboys who care for each other. They're just great.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I mean there are certain common takes on both characters, especially Trapper, that make me cuckoo bananas rageful. The whole Trapper Abandoned Hawkeye and Broke His Heart thing 🔪🔪🔪 I will also die on the hill that Trapper Is Much Softer Than People Give Him Credit For and Hawkeye Is Much Stronger. Trying to think of how to phrase my gripes and opinions such that I don't come off as unnecessarily bitchy lol. But like, it is SO HARD to find stuff for these two that Works for me. I think they're more interesting and complex than they're given credit for.

Annnnd BeejHawk 🍵

Don't Ship It

1. Why don’t you ship it?

I feel like you articulated this at a deep level beautifully in your meta a few days ago lol. I mean fundamentally I am a Trapper Girl TM and TrapHawk is my One True Pairing, so this was always doomed to at best second tier "I like it fine" ship status tbh. But there's just too much friction in the relationship on screen, there's some genuine meanness and anger, they misunderstand each other at key points, and I don't see the chemistry between them. Being extremely petty and subjective for a second, I just don't like BJ as a character very much, I find him frequently mean and petty and annoying and unfunny. Hawkeye can do better.

2. What would have made you like it?

Augh. Okay, I think in a lot of BJHawk interactions that others read as shippy, I see an edgy clinginess that makes me Uncomfy. So BJ being less "repressed neurotic" and a little more ease in their relationship. Also the fundamental biggest barrier to BJHawk is BJ Loves His Wife and Child, and I don't want to like. Get rid of that aspect of his character because it's vital to him, y'know? But maybe more of Hawkeye corresponding with Peg and building up a friendship with her- it could even be comedic, where he's planning a surprise for BJ who's getting increasingly suspicious then is amused/embarrassed/fond when he figures it out, but just like a sense Hawkeye could be included in the family dynamic without being wildly unfair to Peg, or even just BJ being a little more liberated sexually such that it's easier to imagine them conducting an affair that doesn't IMMEDIATELY implode his marriage. I mean, BJ is the deuteragonist for 2/3 of the show, obviously I have thoughts on their dynamic and how it would change with a romantic or sexual element to it, but I frankly don't see Gay BJ at all, I don't see Bi BJ at all, he's sooooo heterosexual to me, so a more sexually ambiguous or chill BJ is necessary lol. Also more BJ taking care of Hawkeye, more buddy vibes and funny coziness! And like this is probably me ragging too much on BJ... IDK it's hard to say how Hawkeye would need to change, he's already trying to be a good friend given the circumstances... I mean, for my subjective ship tastes 90% of my personal turn offs come from BJ, so Hawkeye is not really the problem in this ship for me. I guess something that really bugs me about the BJHawk fic I've tried that turns me off the ship is Sad Sack Hawkeye, so maybe more content with spunky prankster Hawkeye and co-conspirator BJ, or a proactive seductive Hawkeye pursuing BJ, romancing him, making it more of a "I want this because I want you" than a "I'm clinging to this because I need you" thing, which isn't sexy to me.

3. Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

Jfkdndkdn. Yeah, I guess. It's not like. A bad ship. I get it. They were The Pair for 8 seasons, they have many many moments to build a ship on, it's not without merit or something. They're friends who've been brought together in horrible circumstances, they go through a lot, they're close, there's some great scenes for them. I think you can get some interesting scenarios out of their dynamic, though my brain runs a little darker and angstier than shippy. But it is just so very much Not My Cup of Tea in either the show or in the fan works I've tried. Even fics that were otherwise interesting and well-written and in character, the BJHawk elements were pure 😬 to me. Truly truly "Your ship is not my ship and that's okay" situation.

[tonydaddingham]

i need to have a little heartbreak rant bc this was something i noticed in a rewatch the other day and i had to sit on it for a while before i could articulate why it broke my heart so much

it all starts with the first conversation on the wall, crowley has just transformed into his human shape and says the "well, that went down like a lead balloon" line:

(edit: this post is so long in hindsight that I will in fact put it under a cut BUT there are no spoilers in here i promise, we condemn Trojan tactics in this house of the lord)

so when he gets to the end of the line, he lays on the sarcasm, and couples it with a soft eyebrow raise and looks away from not aziraphale, but from adam and eve, away from the whole situation that he's created... (tried to capture it in the gif but it's so quick)

there are a few reasons why this stood out to me, and a couple are things that people have touched on in other posts but i'm going to ramble anyway

he doesn't even look at aziraphale, doesn't even give him the courtesy of a nod or a glance to acknowledge his presence... and yet crowley could have gone anywhere in the garden, or outside of it, let alone on the top of it, and even less right next to aziraphale. it just suddenly struck me the depth of which i think crowley may possibly have been lonely or, possibly more in line with his character, he just wanted to remark on it to someone, even if he's not expecting a meaningful response, because he fell just for asking questions or in general questioning Things, and is still feeling the effects of being damned for it (whether that was thousands of years before the garden existed, or immediately before he came into Eden, whichever way you look at it). so coming up to aziraphale, this lone angel on this wall of whom he presumably knows nothing about, was such a risk on his part, made him extremely vulnerable, but he just needed to talk to somebody, to comment on it and just possibly, maybe have a response, even if it's out of pity or curiosity on the angel's part. he'll take whatever he can get, but is expecting absolutely nothing

the choice of words and how it's delivered also seemed really deliberate. he could have laid on the sarcasm reaaaally thick, or been a bit of a knob and laughed about (ie at the humans' and god/angels' expense) but he didn't. he almost seems like he's chastising himself for it. its the kind of way you'd say it if you were a teenager that's pissed off your parents for an unknown reason and they won't explain it to you, won't have a conversation with you to help you understand why they reacted the way they did, and what you did to upset them (god is NOT a gentle parent-er let's be real). hes done something that he suspects might be wrong (or right, which is wrong...?), but seems like it was right (or at least for the right reasons?), and it's had consequences that he doesn't quite yet understand and noone has explained to him. he essentially still acts like a traumatised child walking on eggshells, immediately self deprecating and self critical, because he might have done something that will upset their mum but their mum won't communicate what exactly it was that was wrong and goes into a rage anyway. to me it even feels like he's disappointed himself in doing something, yet again, that is rooted in free will but feels like he's about to be shouted at and punished for it, even sounds like he's resigned himself to whatever repurcussions will come from it... i mean, he's already Fallen, what more could they possibly do to him?

and then we have aziraphale's response. he actually responds to crowley, and its not just a hmm or a non committal agreement. aziraphale either misheard, or was too distracted by his own inner turmoil that he wasnt concentrating on what crowley said. so he asks him to repeat it. he engages him in a conversation that truly indicates that he might have been interested in what crowley had to say. that crowley might have said something worth hearing, or actually be someone worth listening to. aziraphale obviously knows Crowley is a demon (if the snake form and the clothes/wings didn't give it away, aziraphale would have sensed it regardless), and yet still thinks him worthy of a response, or being spoken to like he's an actual person, not just a demon of no consequence or value. yes in part this just shows aziraphale's unwavering kindness and compassion (a whole different post), but the way that crowley immediately feels like he can reiterate and clarify what he just said speaks volumes to how comfortable he suddenly is in aziraphale's presence and under his scrutiny:

(cont'd) his expression opens up, he looks aziraphale in the eye and repeats something that could be taken the wrong way, that could result in crowley being obliterated even further... but still remains a little guarded and almost like he's forcing himself to relax/be open and polite...it's like he somehow knows something bad isn't going to happen. this i think is compounded by the fact that crowley goes on to elaborate in the scene that he's not sure on the difference between good and evil, and says it almost conspiratorially - back to his old inability to stop himself from questioning everything, unable to stop being curious about it all, and of all people he feels immediately comfortable enough to ask aziraphale, as if aziraphale might have an answer or that aziraphale may be in his kindred and have the same kind of thoughts. ultimately the only reason you ask questions is to get an answer and this time, even if it's not a response crowley agreed with, someone was kind and decent enough to give him a valid answer without damning judgement or punishment in the absence of said answer.

It really does just make me wonder with a good deal of despair how much of crowley might be broken by this point, and in contrast how much he actually heals over the next 6000ish years... that is a whole lot of painful trauma to work through, and as time goes on we see crowley become more outspoken and less guarded with his words and more importantly his questions, seeking aziraphale out on purpose in mesopotamia and golgotha, questioning god's will and actions yet again, because he just can't understand why. the fact that he continues to ask questions to aziraphale speaks volumes of how much he trusts him to give him an answer, and not to hurt him for asking in the first place.

i know that there has been some wonderful fic out there that has touched on the themes of crowley displaying similar characteristics to an abused, traumatised, lonely child, but i honestly think this is the scene where we really see it, and that a five second introduction to aziraphale, someone so compassionate and kind that he let crowley ask him questions without judgement or derision, helps us see a glimpse of crowley's emotional and mental rock bottom... and therefore how far he's come since that day on the wall of eden

[foreverisntenough]

I’m so mad at the club for letting it go this far it’s basically December and we know nothing like what is going on please just make a decision already I can’t wait w this uncertainty! Having no idea if this could potentially be T last season w us is so frustrating

It's really really beyond disappointing from the club. I understand Klopp leaving made a lot of players feel they needed time to consider extending their futures here but there is no excuse to let our clubs three largest players go for free. This should've been sorted. The fact that we read juxtaposed rumors one after another what feels like every day is so painful as a far.

That said, I hate the 'silence strategy' from Trent specifically. His choice to not voice any concrete desire to stay is disappointing. FSG should be doing everything they can to make him stay and I'm frustrated it seems they aren't but if it's a circumstance where the choice in his hands and he doesn't want to stay due to money.... It hurts my heart that he'd turn on his boyhood club because of that. The change of heart of wanting to be a club legend to leave for free is just nauseating to me.

I value him and his talent and he deserves his due payment and respect from a club he contributed to so massively but it's also mutual partnership, this club also made him the player he is... I said this in another ask -

If he doesn’t want to be apart of our club and wants to leave his boyhood club for free — he is not who I thought he was. That will be the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I just can’t stomach that.

There are ways he could at least make it so the club gets something in return from his departure- no matter how much it will hurt to loose him, to go for free would be insane. Sadly, no player is bigger than the club. But I've discussed this topic at length here and here.

I can't articulate my feelings about this entirely without missing points so I'll just leave it at this. It upsets my beyond belief.

TLDR: I'm really sad.

[confusedfoam]

okay I’m home I’ve cut all my hair off I’ve sort of eaten dinner I think I can approach articulation let’s uuuuhh take this character by character I think

Normal

rip this kid, he got pretty fucked over this go around. his house got fire and water damage and his mom also got lit on fire so that sucks.

Also his attempts to connect with scary got undermined and brushed off, he was trying to tell her she has people who care and that they’ll be there and all this lovely stuff and link was going the complete opposite angle and undermining him. (note: this is not a complaint, his approach was too head on to get through to scary and I think it makes beautiful sense for everyone’s characters but damn sucks for normal tho)

and of course. Teeny, gone. His will they won’t they partner, a mole and betrayer. This boy is going to be shattered and somehow I don’t think the goofs realm is going to be exactly comforting.

oh and can we talk about normals cult susceptibility and his family history cause 👀👀👀 yo thank you will

Taylor

Oh man him crying broke my heart, just thinking of him all heart broken and blubbering. I hope he gets to see Nick again soon but I feel like he probably won’t. I also love that his roll in the hug was just a shitty attempt at a sleeper hold.

failing to get through to his mom was one of the most frustrating shitty rolls of his so far but narratively its probably for the best. but man fuck willy and how things go his way (crack conspiracy of the minute: Willy’s got Cassandra on the back burner hoping to (already has?) knock her up for a back up source of daddy magic)

Link

Links teen apathy arc is so valid. also congrats to the gothcleats enthusiasts this was a banger for y'all. I respect the hell out of Matt as a roleplayer. he knows what he wants to do with link so well. I don’t even know what to say I’m happy this is working out for him I guess, can’t wait to watch it crash down.

Scary

Ohhhhhhh boy. oh boy. my poor girl. She needs so much therapy. She needs her mom. She needs more hugs. Christ.

but for real god bless beth may “am I enough?” nearly fucking killed me there were almost real actual tears. her asking willy for a hug and getting so coldly brushed off, not even rejected just brushed off? crushing.

Scary embracing her apathy arc is such a set up for disaster. I am very excited about the soccer admission though I think that was a good start. someone get this girl a sunny afternoon and a beautiful soccer field asap. (the other crack conspiracy: Scary’s had her jock phase, her goth phase, it’s now time to enter her stoner burnout phase. this is founded nothing on other than how she said it when she confessed to wanted to play soccer and also that it would be pretty funny. no more feelings time to just smoke pot about them)

Hermie

I mean that reveal was so much. like holy shit. also I know some people don’t like his name being herman but I actually love that so much sorry y'all.

Anthony

mad and endless respect to my anti egot king that dad fact was so fucking funny. maybe a contender against the back tattoo incident

-

annnnd that’s my current run down of thoughts. what an episode. pls talk to me about it I’m dying out here

[thermoskind]

i do need to talk about spiderman: across the spider-verse because it's been rotating in my brain all day.

i love miles so much and i feel so bad for how alone he felt in this movie. he wanted to pursue an education that might lead to finding a way back to his friends! and then he finds out they all have interdimensional travel figured out and just. didn't visit him? and then just blow after blow between finding out he'd been deliberately excluded from this spider-person society, being told that letting some people die (including his dad!) was more Correct than trying to save everyone, being told he shouldn't exist and that he's responsible for events far beyond his control, it all just broke my heart. i'm so impressed with his strength of character to keep his promise to his mom to protect himself, to keep his promise to his uncle to keep going, in the face of so many people, some of whom he loves dearly, telling him he's wrong.

this is one of the many reasons i also love hobie brown! he's extremely cool, his one-liners are amazing, and it's so important to me that he's in miles' corner. this story is leaning so hard into precriptivist narratives ruling the multiverse so strictly that characters within it are convinced they need to enforce 'canon events.' hobie is explicitly anti-establishment, and what's more established than spiderman canon?

i'm a huge sucker for stories about characters trying to escape their narratives! it often ends in tragedy! but it doesn't have to be! between how hard miles is fighting back against the story he's been told is inescapable, and the title of the next movie being 'beyond' the spider-verse, i'm so excited for miles to succeed!

other stuff that was cool/i am thinking about: trans gwen real and i loved the backgrounds and colour schemes in her world!

the spot was a very funny villain in this, his design had the perfect proportions to be vaguely unsettling, and i love that he started off as this slapstick goof and by the end he was genuinely sinister.

it took me way too long to catch on to miles not being from earth 42! this should have been evident from the first movie since the spider was glitchy, but i was v slow on the uptake. this meant i had my jaw on the floor when it became clear that miles was in a universe with no spider-man, it was such an effective twist for me.

i definitely have more thought and feelings but idk that i can articulate anything else right now.

[marsmulti]

Ships;

Going over the common ships for my muses and how I feel about them personally. Note: things can typically change with an individual portrayal, but these are my impressions from canon and how they relate to my portrayal. They are in random order...

Zuko

Zutara: I hate it. Sure, Zuko is easy and will be with just about anyone who likes him, but I just find this ship grosses me out in a way I can't articulate well. It feels disrespectful to Katara's feelings for Aang and I really like them.

Zuko/Mei: it was stupid when it happened and I'm glad they broke up.

Zuko/Jet: OTP

Zuko/Sokka: maybe maybe maybe

Zutoph: she seems young compared to him? Regardless of actual age, I don't really see it.

My fav ship for Zuko is a random crossover ship I write with my wife and it's with Elsa from "Frozen."

Sessomaru

S*ssr*n: big no.

S*ssinu: wtf no. Block me.

Sesskik: fucking no. Block me. Sesskag is the same level of ick.

Sesskagu: viable, but Kagura deserves better.

Sessomaru/Naraku: maybe maybe maybe.

My favorite ship for Sessomaru is no ship. Maybe a queer platonic partnership with SOMEBODY. A crossover or OC could work, but please keep in mind he is not interested in sex.

Anakin

Anidala: his queen, his BAE. OTP, even if they're so toxic I don't care I love them.

Obikin: get the fuck out. NOTP. Let them be complicated and platonic. I HC they are ridiculously intimate, but with zero sex or sexual energy. They shower together in a single stall and shave each other, but they don't see each other sexually and I will not write anything simple with them I refuse.

Anisoka: NO.

Vader/Sidious: now if you want a fucked up master apprentice ship, this is the one. Maximum bad vibes.

Anakin could have any kind of random romance with most people, so I won't list them all out individually. But Aayla comes to mind as someone he could have been close to and possibly had an experimental phase with. /Shrug.

Inuyasha

Inukag: I have mixed feelings about what we see in canon, but overall, I like them. Idk if I would wanna write this ship or not, it greatly depends on the Kagome.

Inukik: basically the same feeling as Inukag.

Inuyasha/Koga: top tier possibilities.

Inumir: maybe maybe maybe.

Inuyasha is also someone who could end up with just about anyone. I personally hate the whole soulmates crap, as it ends up feeling cheap and lazy and lacking in autonomy.

Link

Zelink: OTP

Link/Ganon: it could work in the right circumstances.

Link/Zelda/Ganon: OT3

Link/Mipha: sorry but no... They have no chemistry and Mipha has no character... I'll still give it a maybe though because individual portrayals may change my mind.

Link/Sidon: It just doesn't feel fair to Sidon. Link will break his heart.

It's very difficult to ship with Link. He hardly ever lets people in. You need to build up so much trust and communication with him and build up to it for maybe years or through different lifetimes idk. He also isn't interested in sex, so there is no seducing him. You have to win his heart.

Vash

Vashwood: OTP OTP!!!

Vashmeryl: GTFO. platonic love only. I viscerally hate this ship and no amount of canon divergence is gonna change how I feel.

Plantcest: NO GTFO. I don't have an issue with Knives taking advantage of Vash, but that's what it is. Vash could NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS be happy, comfortable, or satisfied with this and I hate to see abuse played as romance. Abuse as abuse, I have no issues with.

Vash/Frank Marlo: tbh that one episode in the 98 Trigun awakened this ship and I really like it a lot.

Vash is not easy to actually get close to, even though he is horny all the time and wants to have relationships more than anything, his fear keeps him away. He will come onto anyone relentlessly and then back out at the last minute.

Livio

Livio is aroace and only into platonic vibes.

Wolfwood is his best friend. He loves him.

Vash is someone he cares about, but can't really hang around easily.

[catharticcrying]

i gave my boyfriend a heart of hickeys. he already had a hickey from me on his chest and i connected it to more to make a ♡. i thought it was pretty i thought he would love it. it made him feel vulnerable and i comforted him immediately!

he went out with his boyfriend after but they barely ever fuck, so i didnt think he would see them. they ended up fucking and his bf saw them and complimented them and said he didnt know hickeys could be done like that, then he gave him hickeys on his back in a line. and on his shoulders.

it feels like he was copying me.

my bf and i have strict overlap rules, i like to feel special and i dont want to be talked abt the same way as other people. and seeing as his love for me and his bf are different, he should be able to articulate it that way. the same goes for me but im currently dating, but i dont have other relationships atm...

i have shown discomfort before when my bf's bf said "we love you" to my bf bc like...i love him, and he loves him. it is separate and different. not a group project. i have also loved him for years and theyve only been together less than a year...it feels like he doesnt know what hes talking abt bc he barely is familiar with our dynamic so it makes me uncomfortable...it just doesnt need to be said that way and he doesnt have to speak for me.

i saw the hickeys and said wow he destroyed u a little bit..

and my bf said "i looked at my body and thought y'all destroyed me"

and that is the part that just bothers me so much. the overlap is uncomfortable. he said he wouldnt let me feel like the relationships bleed into eachother but like...then why is your bf giving you hickeys just bc i gave you them?? and ur seeing it as "we" destroyed you??? how is that not overlap???? especially when it coincides with a streak of 3 days of us being super drawn to eachother and horny for eachother...

it makes no sense i feel gross and this is why i hate the word metamour bc i do not have a relationship with that guy or a pseudo-relationship thru having relationships w the same person...and our relationships w my bf are different! they dont need to be the same! so why does it feel like he wants to take my place or a place adjacent to me? i just dont like it. my bf and i have worked rlly hard to build what we have, and for so long! this guy just showed up in his life and it feels like he wants to be as big as me, but he needs to know he will never be like me to my bf. he will never be able to love him how i do, not because im better, but because it is ours and he is not a part of it. he could have waited to give him hickeys another time...

my bf says it sounds like this is a convo i have to have w his bf but like ??? why would i talk to YOUR bf about Y'ALL'S sex?

idk what to do here and i upset my bf by being upset...but i feel like he broke a barrier that used to exist between the two relationships and idk how to rebuild it bc ill always remember he said this...

[runthepockets]

Hanging out with other trans men is really interesting cus you open up to each other about your personal lives and experiences and families and every now and then one of them will fire off "yeah who needs a dad anyway" or "I can't imagine being a guy who actually cares about making his dad proud" and I'm like damn….really? I always find myself wishing I got more time with my dad, that I had more positive male role models and friends growing up. I'd say I naturally have a pretty good head on my shoulders, but thinking "what would dad think if he saw me doing this / being treated this way" has kept me out of a lot of shitty situations and kept me away from a lot of shitty people.

No judgement cus I know these guys are just venting, that a lot of dads are lacking in their duties and fatherhood is a tough subject for most men. I'm also in favor of abolishing the family. But also, my dad is a pretty cool guy and I don't think I'd be the man I am today if he (and my brothers) hadn't shown me the way. I refuse to let "a boy needs his father" become another talking point that the right has co-opted, because it's just plain true. Speaking from experience, boys with absent or overly-critical or passive or "strong but silent" types of fathers always end up in failing relationships and walking out on their kids and emotionally stunted and in gangs and wife beaters and all sorts of other awful shit. My dad was very attentive and nurturing and present and non judgmental but simply lived too far away from my single mother for me to see him more than 1-3 times a year, so I still ended up having to pull a lot of my masculinity from my imagination, my friends, tv, music, and movies, and though I think I turned out alright and am very proud of what I've earned as a man, I don't think I'd wish that on any other boy, trans or not, as it's often a very lacking and lonely experience. As rewarding as it was watching Naruto cry for his friends, or seeing Furious Styles hug his son after his best friend was violently murdered, it just doesn't compare to having a nice, cozy boyhood where I got to wear the right clothes and get taken to baseball games and got to have 1-1 guy time to play wrestle with pops and get called to dinner with the right name and to be properly consoled the first time a girl broke my heart.

Single moms, lesbian couples, etc, with sons exist and their efforts are not to be understated or derrided or scoffed at. But I still think it's important that boys-- both cis and trans-- have at least one consistent and trustworthy adult man in their life; an uncle, a family friend, a teacher, a counsler, a coach, whatever. Just a firm yet tender and educated male figure to help him articulate his masculinity as well as the women in his life will be able to articulate their femininity due to being surrounded by an abundance of generous and self aware mothers and mothers' friends and teachers and daycare workers and nurses, y'kno?

Ensuring boys have good fathers and positive male role models won't solve everything, nor will it shelter them for all poor decision making, but I still think it's a step in the right direction. I still think it's important that boys grow up with adequate enough resources to become good men, cus the alternative sucks for everyone.

[kcnrqz]

ESSAY

From Shame To Pride

Published in Celebrating Hope After Storm, The Indiependent Collective, May 2023

The first time another girl held my hand, I felt this wave of nausea wash over me, like I wanted to throw up. It was different from holding hands with my best friends—it was electric, and I knew it in my gut. I finally understood what it meant to have butterflies in my stomach, because it felt exactly that way. I felt kilig and excitement, but also confusion, guilt, and shame all at the same time.

I was sixteen then. Being a pastor's kid, I grew up in the church. During that time I was already part of a ministry and was leading worship services. I was also graduating from a science high school, always achieving the highest honors throughout my academic career. All my life, I was trying my best to live a straight life according to my beliefs.

From an early age, I believed that homosexuality is a sin, but my feelings left me at a crossroad—like one path leads to a life led by God and the other by sin. I felt so ashamed and guilty that I had a crush on a girl because I was straying away from God. Disgusted with myself, I vowed never to do it again and stay on the right path. I chose my faith.

Until I met another girl when I was nineteen and I fell in love with her. She was an activist and she spoke articulately and compassionately. She inspired me. But then the feelings of disgust, guilt, and shame came flooding once again. I was disappointed with myself because I couldn't keep my promise to the Lord. I felt unworthy of serving Him because I was soiled with sin.

It was the onset of my depression. I stopped attending classes, dragged myself to church, detached myself from my childhood friends. I felt worthless. I was punishing myself. I no longer wanted to live.

My mom noticed the changes in my mood and behavior. She sat me down in a heart-to-heart talk and I came out to her. I could see in her eyes that she was heartbroken from what I just told her. I was no longer her perfect child. She prayed for me, and in her prayers she asked the Lord to fix me and forgive me. She encouraged me to do the same, so that the Lord would help me get through "this phase." Then she told me not to tell my dad about this because we wouldn't know how he would react.

I wished to stop existing that day. I wasn't expecting that she would accept me right then and there, but I suppose I had hoped for a better reaction. I never saw her that sad my whole life and it broke me even more. I felt so alone.

The only ray of sunshine for me in what seemed to be months of darkness was whenever I would see the girl I had fallen in love with in college. She was what got me through attending classes that semester. I even joined her organization in hopes of having more time to spend with her. But to my disappointment, I found out that she already had a girlfriend. Of course I was heartbroken. But still, I was able to find love. It may not be from her, but I was lucky to have joined an organization where I found a family in the university—people who were open and understanding, who listened and empathized with me, who supported me in my struggle of finding myself. With them, there was no condemnation or judgment. I felt safe and that I no longer needed to lie or hide.

Because of them, I learned to be critical. I started to challenge the beliefs I held since I was young. I read and learned about sexuality, gender identity, and politics. I explored books, films, series, internet articles, whatever materials I could gather. I joined educational discussions, mobilizations, community integrations, and because of all of that I realized that I wasn't alone in my struggle, that there were many others like me who have been through the same situation, that my struggle with my identity was intersectional with the struggles of the marginalized in our society. That gave me a sense of belonging and a newfound purpose.

I shifted to another course. From taking up a pre-med course, I discovered my passion for the arts. If there was one thing I have learned from the church that stuck with me, it was being compassionate. I learned that I can make a difference in people's lives through art and other means. I finally thrived in college—my grades were good, I joined different organizations, began hosting a local radio program, became part of the student council, and eventually even had a girlfriend. 

My friends also urged me to seek professional help for my mental health, and I finally did. Therapy taught me how to process my thoughts and emotions and how to understand myself more. I developed a greater sense of self-compassion while recovering from the trauma caused by my family, church, and internal homophobia. 

It was a long road to finally accept myself for who I am. Breaking away from old ideas was a painful process because it was like chipping away parts of my old self to give way for growth. My recovery journey was an arduous one, like climbing the mountains with complex terrains, full of ridges and valleys and plateaus.

I can say that I am in a much better place now. I have learned to be kinder and more patient with myself and I have a loving partner (and a baby dog!), supportive friends, and a community that embraces me for who I am.

My parents are still conservative and in denial of my identity, but that's a battle for another day. I still go to church, mainly just to appease them and so that people won't talk behind their backs. However, I no longer let it affect me because I am confident and proud of what I have become.

[fieldsofbone]

men will really be like i got the situation i wanted but i’m gonna mope like you forced me to do it