#like she totally didn’t have to do any of that
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Come bother me, baby.
Based on the following post: Inspo you are the bane of young Aaron's existence - back when he was just an agent under Gideon and Rossi. A pain in his ass…so when you transfer to avoid your feelings for him, he begs you to come back. Okay listen, I know that Hotch didn’t really work under Rossi in the beginning, as Rossi had already left…but we’re all gonna pretend for the sake of this fic. Also – Haley just never existed in this, and that’s ok.
Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader
Fluff
Word count: 4164
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, female reader, she/her pronouns, age gap (Hotch is 28 and reader is 25), some explicit language, canon typical violence, mentions of case details, reader has experienced the loss of her parents, mention of holidays, mention of food/eating. Mention of reader being a mom, inaccurate timelines, let me know if I missed anything!!!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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July 1993
The year was 1993, Jason Gideon and David Rossi were just granted permission to hire two agents to expand the team. They agreed that they would each pick an agent, that way there’d be no room to argue. They interviewed a total of 17 potential candidates, 13 of those were interviewed by Rossi and the other 4 by Gideon.
Aaron Hotchner had been the 7th file in Rossi’s stack, it was an impressive resume, one that was filled with cases he’d worked as a prosecutor, and then a number of cases he’d worked as a profiler in the Seattle Field office. He now was here in Quantico, Virginia, hoping to gain a spot on the BAU. To Rossi, Aaron had stood out amongst the others, he’d sat through all 13 interviews, and nobody could match the passion for this position like Aaron had. It had been an easy choice.
You had been the 2nd file in Gedeon’s stack, and honestly he’d been let down by his first candidate…so when you walked in, more than qualified for this position, he excused the other two candidates. He didn’t feel the need to interview them, his gut told him you were the right choice. Your file had been padded with your numerous degrees varying from bachelor's degrees in psychology and criminology, to a master’s degree in forensic psychology, ending with a PhD in psychology. For the last year you’d been working in the Phoenix field office as a profiler. And while you didn’t have a ton of field experience, Gideon had been thoroughly impressed with your tenacity and overall enthusiasm for the profession.
--
September 1993
Things had started off okay…mostly. Aaron definitely treated you like you were a child, though you were only three years younger than him. While you’d spent a lot of time expanding your knowledge of this field, Aaron had worked as a prosecutor immediately after his completion of law school. You weren’t sure why he thought he was so much better than you…you were a doctor after all.
It had started in the most dismissive way possible. You’d accidentally spilled your coffee at the round table, it had spread fast, covering his copy of the latest case file. You apologized immediately, offered him your copy while you went to print another. He shook his head at you, muttering something along the lines of you being young and unprofessional.
You had thought about going to Gideon to complain but ultimately decided against it. It would only make him see you as more of a child. So, you’d worked your ass off to prove yourself, you needed to show him that you were an asset to the BAU and not a liability.
--
May 1994
“I think this unsub is female.” You stated confidently.
“Are you insane?” Aaron scoffed.
“Before you completely dismiss me Hotch, hear me out.”
“Don’t call me that.” He hissed.
You had to physically wipe the smirk from your face before explaining your theory to the team. You’d pointed out how meticulous everything had been, how much care had gone into the murders and the disposals.
“If we really break everything down, it’s all done with so much care. The bodies haven’t just been dumped, they’ve been cleaned, redressed, and neatly placed in beautiful locations. The field of flowers, the hillside, by the art installation at the park.” You’d gestured to the photos pinned on the corkboard.
Looking around you could see the impressed look Gideon was wearing, it was bordering smug as he turned his gaze over to Rossi with a nod. Rossi couldn’t do anything other than shrug – you’d made a good point, who was he to question your expertise. But then there was Aaron…he was looking around in disbelief, nobody was even going to question it?
Aaron was pissed that you had been right. Three days after that briefing, you taken Helena Murphy into custody. She had lost her siblings in a car accident when she was in her teens, and a recent fender bender had been her trigger. She’d been taking the lives of young people who had resembled her siblings and laid them to rest somewhere beautiful…unlike the highway guardrail that had ultimately taken her family from her all those years ago.
Gideon and Rossi both gave you kudos for narrowing down the profile the way you had. The police officers at the Milwaukee PD had congratulated you and subsequently thanked you for your hard work. Aaron wouldn’t even look at you.
Needless to say, the flight home was tense.
--
August 1994
“Ugh it is soooo hot!” You whined, fanning yourself with a loose manila folder.
“Would you stop that?” Aaron asked.
“Stop what?” You feigned innocence.
“Bothering me! Your fanning is blowing all my papers around, just cut it out.” He huffed.
“Sure, thing Hotch.” You offered a sickly-sweet smile.
“Don’t call me that!” He shook his head and continued his report.
You stood from your desk and removed your blazer, showing off the fitted tank top you’d been wearing underneath. You made your way up to the kitchenette to retrieve some ice water and the ice pack from your lunchbox. At this point, you’d do anything to cool off.
You sat back down at your desk, sipping the water and crunching on the ice, while shifting the icepack from your chest to your neck. Aaron was so distracted by your constant moving that he had to speak up again. But as his gaze landed on you, he was rendered speechless…only for a moment, but it was enough time for him to notice the way the condensation from the icepack had dripped down your chest and when you slid it back to your neck, he could see the effect the could had on your breasts. His throat went dry.
“Stop messing around, it’s distracting.” He ordered.
“You’re no fun Hotch.”
“Would you just stop bothering me? You’re doing it on purpose now.” He sighed.
“Oh, fine.” You conceded.
--
November 1994
You made your way into the FBI building, hanging on one arm is your go bag, packed and ready to go. On the other arm is your purse, struggling to stay up on your shoulder as you held onto a basket filled with baked goods.
“Happy Holidays Jim!” You greeted, handing him a loaf of pumpkin bread.
“Thanks doll, you too! Did you get called in?” Jim, the head of security, asked.
“No, not yet anyway. I just figured I’d stop by.” You shrugged.
“You weren’t celebrating?” He questioned.
“Oh, um no, not this year.”
“Well doll, thanks for the pumpkin bread. Happy thanksgiving.” Jim smiled.
You made your way around, passing out different backed goods to people you saw every day, Maureen the receptionist, Mike from IT, and Sandra who was the director’s assistant. You’d even gone as far as bringing something for the BAU team members in the event that you did get called in.
Speaking of…
Gideon rushed into the bullpen of the sixth floor, in his haste he nearly missed the slight step down into the main section of the floor where your and Aaron’s desks sat. He was ferociously pressing the buttons on his pager – surely sending a page to the team informing them of the newest case.
Your suspicions were confirmed when yours beeped from your desk, drawing yours and Gideon’s attention.
“Jesus, I didn’t realize you were here. What are you doing here already?” Gideon asked.
“No reason to celebrate…I thought I could make myself useful here.” You shrugged and offered Gideon a container of gingersnaps.
“Thanks kid. Can you go get the files from Anderson?” Gideon requested.
“Of course, sir.”
Aaron arrived next; shock evident on his face when he saw you coming back from retrieving the files. He was about to make a snarky comment about you being here so early when Rossi came in behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.
--
The four of you were on the plane heading to Oklahoma, you were seated next to Gideon, going over the file, passing theories back and forth. Aaron was sat next to Rossi, stewing in a feeling the bordered annoyance.
“I can feel the steam blowing out of your ears.” Rossi teased.
“Sorry I just don’t get it…she got there so fast. She just – she just bothers me.” Aaron huffed.
“She was already there kid, she was at the BAU before Gideon even got there, he told me.” Rossi explained.
“What do you mean she was already there? Why would she have been at the office already?”
“I assume to keep herself busy. She lost her parents when she was in college, so she doesn’t really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with. She brought everyone at the office treats.” Rossi smiled, popping another bite of his banana nut muffin into his mouth.
“I didn’t know. That’s uh-that’s…” Aaron didn’t quite know what to say.
“Check your bag Hotch.” Rossi smiled and went back to his file.
Placed neatly in the outer pocket of Aaron’s bag was a cellophane bag containing snickerdoodles, his favorite. A red ribbon tied the bag closed and attached to it was a small note…
Sorry for bothering you all the time. Hopefully these can make up for a little bit of it.
Aaron took a bit of one of the cookies., rolling his eyes because, of course, they were perfect. He couldn’t help but feel bothered by your inability to be bad at something.
--
February 1995
You hated valentine’s day, it had always been a sore spot, all your friends swooning over the overpriced chocolate and roses that their boyfriends would get them. Not you though, you hadn’t received a valentine since freshman year of high school when Mathew Smith taped a rose to your locker. Matt had been nice and all, but he was looking for something…unserious.
You got yourself dressed and dragged yourself to the BAU. Everyone was so chipper as you entered the building, greeting you…but you met the majority of them with a scowl. Stepping off the elevator and going over to your desk, surprise overcoming you as you’re met with peonies and a pack of razzles. You moved them around, trying to find the note, coming across a yellow sticky note.
I thought these could be repayment for the pens you got me for Christmas. -Hotch
You smiled at the signature, he’d hated when you called him Hotch, you’d been the first to do so and he was annoyed at how unprofessional it had initially seemed, he’d tell you not to call him that and claim you bothered him on purpose, but as Rossi and Gideon joined in with the nickname, he slowly grew to like you…it!
Aaron sat at his desk, plopping into his chair with a sigh. Your gaze lifted to meet his, a timid smile gracing your features.
“Hotch”
“Don’t bother me today.”
“Thank you.” You smiled.
“Don’t mention it.”
--
May 1995
May and June had become your least favorite months of the year. After losing your parents, you thought Christmas would be hard, and it was…but you’d found friends in school who would celebrate with you.
It was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day that killed you. People didn’t invite their orphaned friend over to celebrate those holidays with their family because…well because that’s weird.
These two months brought with them the painful reminder that your parents were gone.
Truthfully, you’d been glad to get the page letting you know that a case came in, it would have been a welcomed distraction…if it hadn’t been in your hometown.
Aaron could see how tense you were. He was trying to profile you, figure out what had you so worked up. He knew this time of year had to be difficult for you, seeing as Rossi told him you lost your mom. But he could tell there was something deeper, rooted within you.
It took some time, but after sitting back and observing, he figured it out. A few different officers knew you by name and were on a first-name basis with you. You’d been extremely familiar with the layout of the city, not needing directions to the location you’d gone to earlier. This must be your hometown.
--
“Alright guys, nice job today. So, we are flying out first thing tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Rossi said.
You were slow to pack up, gathering your things, chatting with a few of the officers before heading out of the precinct. You didn’t really know what to do, you didn’t want to go back to the hotel, but you also didn’t want to go around town. You had too many memories here, it was too hard to go around and picture all the times you had with your parents around here.
“Hey, you want to go for a drive with me?” Aaron asked
You couldn’t even mask the shock as it etched its way across your features.
“Sure.”
At first you had no idea where Aaron was heading, the drive feeling unfamiliar…but then all at once you’d figured it out. He was driving to Blue Grove Cemetery.
“What the hell are you doing? Why are we here?” You questioned, anxiety lacing your words.
“Look, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to go through May and June, now that they’re gone. I thought it might be nice for you to see them before we head back tomorrow.” Aaron explained.
So many feelings were running through you. Initially anger, why would he blindside you like this. But then that morphed into panic, you didn’t want Hotch to see this side of you, the weak and vulnerable side. But lastly was this weird warmth…it was slow moving like molasses, sticking to every part of your body.
--
Aaron parked and let you control the pace. He waited to move until you reached for the handle on the door, slowly exiting the SUV. You stood there, still, unmoving, unsure if you could do this. Aaron grabbed a bag out of the back seat before walking around to meet you where you stood.
“I’m sorry, I – I don’t…”
“Hey,” Aaron placed his hand on your shoulder gently. “Take your time.”
You nodded at him gratefully.
Eventually you began to move, leading Aaron through the cemetery. You’d passed headstone after headstone until you came to a stop at their gravesite, resting just below a beautiful tree, offering just enough shade to allow you respite from the heat.
Aaron laid out a small blanket, letting you sit first, hesitating for a beat.
“You can sit…please.” You asked, more than told.
Aaron sat next to you silently. He pulled the bag in front of the two of you, removing its contents, a sandwich cut in half, a bag of kettle chips (your favorite) and lastly two diet cokes. As you watched him, you smiled, you may bother him once in a while…okay all the time…but he cared. Whether he’d admit it or not.
The two of you sat there, eating, enjoying the cool breeze that the afternoon offered. After some time had passed, you found yourself telling Aaron about your parents. How your mom loved to bake, and she would tell you that food brought people together. You told him how your dad did everything himself, he never called in a specialist for everything.
Aaron chimed in with how you’d clearly taken after them and it made you an incredible profiler…and there it was again, that warm feeling.
You’d recognized it… it was the same feeling that bloomed within you on valentine’s day, and before that, on Christmas. You’d bought hotch these really fancy fountain pens he’d mentioned in passing and he got you a coat, a nice warm one, since you didn’t seem to own one.
This warm, sticky, sweet feeling was rearing its ugly head…and you were pretty sure it was called love.
--
July 1995
That warm feeling had burrowed its way deep into your core and you were freaking out. You’d been doing everything you could to act normal around Hotch, you were worried you’d been failing miserably.
“I think your agent has a crush on my agent…” Rossi said to Gideon, peaking out the window of his office.
“That’s interesting, because I am pretty sure your agent has feelings for my agent.” Gideon challenged.
“Do you think they’ll figure it out?”
“Not any time soon.”
--
You flicked a paper football over your screen onto Hotch’s desk. He glanced up at you, only his gaze didn’t hold its usual annoyance, instead there was something that mirrored amusement written there.
“Are you trying to bother me some more?” Aaron asked.
“Um, yes. That’s my job; to bother you…didn’t you get the memo?” You teased.
“I must have missed that one.” He let out a breathy chuckle.
You went back to your report, working diligently. All of two minutes passed before the paper football knocked against your hand as it landed on your desk. You laughed and shook your head gently, there was that stupid feeling again.
--
October 1995
Your knuckles rapped gently against Gideon’s office door. You were shaking, your stomach twisted at the thought of what you were about to do. It had taken you a little while to figure out the best option…knowing that it wouldn’t be professional to continue working with Hotch with these feelings you had for him.
You’d looked at all the openings here at Quantico, trying to figure out which position would best suit you. Ultimately, counterterrorism was looking for someone with a background in psychology, so it just made sense. Which brings you to now, you were about to go into Gideon’s office and request the transfer.
“Come in.”
“Hey Gideon, I uh…I need to talk to you about something.” You stumbled a bit.
“Go ahead.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.
You sat, taking a steadying breath. “I’m requesting a transfer. To counterterrorism.”
“No.”
“Gideon, you-”
“No.” He began. “I am not going to sign a transfer request for you, especially not to counterterrorism, you have exceptional skills, and we need them here.”
“Gideon, I have to transfer. I feel – I have…” You trailed off as your eyes found Aaron beyond the window in the bullpen. “I can’t work with him, not when I feel like this.”
Gideon took a deep breath, looking at you and taking in the longing gaze you wore. He didn’t fully understand what thoughts were running through your head, but if this is what you felt you needed to do, he wasn’t going to stop you. You were a very strong and capable agent…he trusted your judgement.
“How much longer do we have you here at the BAU?” He asked waving for you to hand him the paper.
“Two weeks.” You sighed. “I’m sorry Gideon.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re smart and you need to do what is best for you.”
--
November 1995
“Alright guys we have a case, round table in five.” Rossi called out into the bullpen.
You gathered your things, knowing you wouldn’t be travelling with them for this case. You figured you’d sit through the round table, offer a few theories and then let them go on their way. Aaron watched you slowly grabbing a legal pad and your signature pink pen, he chuckled grabbing his own paper and one of the fountain pens from the set you bought him.
“Before we begin I just want to say that I am so proud of how you have grown and flourished with this team, and while it is a huge loss for the BAU, counterterrorism is lucky to have you.” Gideon stated, looking at you.
“What? You-you’re transferring?” Aaron asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“When…when are you leaving?” He asked.
“Today is my last day.” Your gaze shifted to your lap.
“We can talk about this later, let’s go over the facts of the case.” Gideon demanded.
Through the entire briefing Aaron’s eyes were burning into you. He couldn’t focus on the fact of this case because he was completely hung up on the fact that yours wouldn’t be the face across from him anymore…you weren’t going to be there to flick paper footballs at him, or to hum songs all day, to crunch annoyingly on baby carrots. Who was going to bother him if you were gone?
After you finished going over the case, you couldn’t help the sting behind your eyes, slowly realizing that this was it, your time at the BAU was done. But you held your head up high and steeled yourself. You offered Gideon a handshake, Rossi pulled you into a tight hug, and Aaron…well he brushed by you with a curt nod.
--
Aaron was miserable throughout the entirety of the two weeks they were away on this case. He was moping, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Rossi and Gideon shared a knowing look, thankful that he was finally figuring it out.
They hadn’t quite expected it to take him so long to do something about it.
--
December 1995
The bullpen was so quiet without you. Aaron felt uneasy; he was the only one in the center of the floor now that you were gone. His file going long forgotten as he sat back and thought about things for a bit…
When he first saw you, you’d entered the elevator at the same time for your interviews, you’d offered a quiet thank to him for holding the elevator for you and he couldn’t deny then how cute you were. But then you’d both been hired on as profilers and he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to think that anymore, so he shoved the feeling down.
Then you spilled your coffee all over the table, effectively ruining his file, but you’d cursed, burning your hand as you quickly tried to clean it up. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you it would be okay, so he fled.
It was so many things after that, your intelligence and the passion you had for profiling. Your baking, always noting people’s favorites and bringing them sweets, just to see them smile. The way you listened, remembering something he’d brought up in passing and gone out of your way to order his favorite pens.
Oh shit. He was in love with you. He’d fallen in love with you and had been too stupid to realize it.
--
Aaron moved with a purpose, rushing through the FBI building, making his way up the two flights of stairs it took to get to counterterrorism. He burst through the door, drawing attention to himself, his eyes frantically scanning the room in search of you.
He moved forward, noticing you across the room. He reached you in a few long strides, stopping just before you.
“Hotch…what are you doing here?” You looked around, blushing profusely.
“Sweetheart, you need to come back to the BAU.”
“I can’t…Aaron I-”
“I know that I have given you no reason to believe this, but I love you sweetheart. I need you to come back to the BAU, come back and bother me, baby.”
“No.” You shook your head in disbelief.
“Well yes.”
“Aaron, no.”
“Yes! Come bother me, baby. Bother me for the rest of my life.” Aaron begged. His hands reaching forward to cup your face.
“Okay” You gasped.
Aaron pulled you into a kiss, the agents surrounding you erupting in cheers for the both of you.
--
Bonus scene – May 2016
“Happy Mother’s Day sweetheart.”
“Happy Mother's Day mom!”
“Thank you guys!” You smiled, feeling nothing but joy looking to those who surrounded you.
Before you was your incredible husband and your three children, two sons and a daughter. They had gotten up early to make breakfast for you before they headed off to school. There had been a bouquet of peonies, cards, and a pack of razzles.
“Jack, are you okay to get Zoey to school today? We got called in pretty early.” You asked.
“Yeah mom! I have practice though, so Jason and Zoey might have to hang out a while.”
“Don’t worry about that bud, Will offered to pick them up when he picks up Michael.” Aaron patted Jack on the shoulder.
“Alright kids, we will see you later, be safe and please text me when you get to school!” You called, heading out the door with Aaron hot on your tail.
--
Aaron and you made your way into the BAU hand-in-hand. You glanced around at this team you built together, and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron made his way toward his office, noticing you’d stopped and before he could say anything, Dave clapped him on the back.
“Leave her be. She’s admiring this family you’ve built together.”
You looked over to where Aaron and Dave stood, offering a bright smile. You then made your way down to the floor, greeting Emily, JJ, Derek, Spencer and Penelope.
Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust
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Part 2 - My Best Friend's Girl (you're something else) Trafalgar Law x reader
18+ Rating: E - Sexual content. 10k. fem!reader
PART 1 HERE
They find their seats, but as Law pulls up his phone to switch it off, yes, he switches his phone off at the movies, it’s not that weird, he sees that she’s sent him a new message. A new picture. No no no no, not now. Bad idea. Unfortunately, there’s no way he can refrain from looking at it now that he knows it exists. That would be asking his imagination to fire up all his dirty fantasies right before the movie starts. He’ll just have a short peek. Who knows, maybe it isn’t even- Fuck. Law is fucked.
“So Penguin is dating Shachi,” Law says the moment Bepo picks up his call.
“Hey Law!” Bepo answers and though he sounds like his usual cheerful self, there’s a subtle, yet unmistakable nervousness to his tone of voice.
“And you knew,” Law continues.
“Well, I-” Bepo begins.
“So when I called you last week complaining about Penguin’s girlfriend-”
“Law,” Bepo pleads.
“-it didn’t occur to you to mention that he can’t have one?”
Only silence meets him at the other line.
“Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It wasn’t my place,” Bepo explains. Law waits for him to continue and after another pause Bepo does so, albeit reluctantly. “If for any reason Penguin lied to you and said that he got a girlfriend, it wouldn’t be right to tell on him, not even to you.”
“You couldn’t even have told me that he by chance also has a sister with the same name? That it all could be a big misunderstanding?”
“Law, you’re being unreasonable. Two people can be named the same thing.”
“I know that! But-” Law sputters. “Well, it’s just- Argh!”
“I know,” Bepo says and Law could have sworn it sounds like he’s holding in laughter.
Oh, so this is funny to him?
“So when are you arriving today?” Bepo asks and Law decides to let it all go for now.
“I got off the train just now, but there’s a lot happening today, opening of the conference, dinner and probably drinks afterwards,” Law says with open disgust. Just the thought of the kind of people he’ll be forced to be congenial with is making him sick to his stomach.
“Are you still free tomorrow evening?”
“As planned I have bought our tickets for the movie at 8.30pm tomorrow.”
“You’ve booked them already?” Bepo says, now openly laughing. “Law, this is a small town, you don’t have to book cinema tickets in advance on a tuesday.”
“I know that,” Law protests, “but now we have good seats. You know I hate sitting up front.”
Bepo laughs again and all the nagging in Law’s brain has been silenced, he smiles too as he wonders how a town as unassuming and unpleasant as this one could feel so much like home.
----
In the days that have passed since Sunday, and the dramatic reveal of Penguin’s true relation to Y/N, Law has been feeling off.
Of course it was a nice surprise. He was happy to learn that she was single and very likely interested and first and foremost, NOT dating one of his best friends. Yes, it made him happy.
It just left him feeling, well, off.
Just the tiniest bit unbalanced. Ever so slightly unwell. High-strung, jumpy and a little sweaty. Totally normal bodily fluctuations that don't necessarily mean anything.
The problem was just that the situation was so… anticlimactic. In the true sense of the word.
They didn’t even kiss.
No wonder he was feeling high-strung. It’s only natural.
He didn’t manage to get even one measly little peck and the most frustrating part is that it was absolutely his fault. She threw herself at him all week and when it was revealed that he could act upon all his indecent desires, that she wanted him to, he didn’t do anything. They formally exchanged numbers and a mutual interest in seeing each other again as if they were at the end of a fucking job interview. But really, what else could he have done with the threat of Penguin constantly looming over them like a hawk?
Still, he can’t shake the feeling of having lost his chance. Why couldn’t he have made a bolder move when he had her right there? She had basically confessed to seducing him.
Law would be lying if he said that it didn’t still drive him crazy just to think about that part.
Especially now when it’s early in the morning and he finds himself hundreds of miles away in a tiny hotel room with the blinds down and his hand down his pyjama pants, lazily jerking himself off, wishing he had her at the other side of the wall again.
Looking back on last week, Y/N’s actions are even more arousing now that she has confirmed that it was all for him. It was all to seduce him.
He’s jerked off to the memory of her sounds so many times that his fantasies have practically overwritten his memories by now. He finds it difficult to differentiate between what really happened and what he later has made up in a daydream, attempting to fill in the blanks. It’s still effective material, but when he knows that the real thing might be within his reach it ends up lacking.
He slows down the pace even further to make himself last longer. He knows the climax will be nice, but again, lacking, and as long as he keeps it at bay, his pent-up mind half-way believes that it’s not his own hand making him come.
In his head, he can see how pretty she would be underneath him. He would take it slow and she would complain. She would be so fucking needy. Maybe she would try pushing his buttons to provoke him. Shove and hit and pull and bite. She would bite him hard and he still wouldn’t budge. Then when the time was right, he would-
Beep beep, be-be-beep beep, beep beep
Fuck.
He forgot to turn the alarm off when he woke.
The annoying melody drags him down from his high, unfortunately skipping the release, and he regrets dragging out the climax, but finds himself depressingly indifferent to whether he reaches it or not.
With a groan he grabs his phone to turn it off, but as he does he sees something that brings back all the excitement and more to spare.
Two new messages. One text and one… picture.
Y/N When are you coming back?
It’s so simple, so casual and really could mean nothing at all, but then the picture beneath loads.
It shows her face and naked shoulders lit up by an early beam of sunlight. She’s lying on a bed with two fingers stuck in her mouth as if she’s licking something off of them. It’s a beautifully filthy picture. So subtle in its suggestiveness that it in turn becomes pornographic, offering everything up to imagination, but with a subtext clear as day.
Law can’t deny the grin spreading on his face at the sight, he wouldn’t want to. He collapses back on the bed, phone in his hand, and finishes what he started, swiftly and passionately.
----
One day earlier
When Y/N wakes up in her own apartment for the first time in a week, it’s a disappointment. It feels like waking up from a very pleasant dream to see that your everyday is bleak and lonely in comparison. What she priorly thought of as a quite pleasant apartment now seems boring. And empty.
She feels defeated. She had the chance of a lifetime, a week living in the same apartment as the boy of her dreams with her neurotic brother way out of the picture. She had 6 whole days and still she couldn’t bag him.
She shakes the disappointment away and gets up, getting in the mindset of a new day. A new, normal day. It’s not so bad.
She works part time in the small, independent camera shop where the pay is as bad as the people are nice. In the beginning she was hired to help them move the bookkeeping to a digital system and keep up the website, but as the years went by business declined horribly and now there’s only a handful of employees who haven't left for where the grass is greener, so the manager needs her help with a lot more. She likes that it’s varied, but it’s not as flexible as it used to be when she mostly did digital work.
Once upon a time her friends and family were shocked when she told them she would become something as mundane as an accountant, but to her it was never a hard decision. At least you can do bookkeeping from Bali. And it’s a pleasure to keep an independent shop afloat, albeit barely.
Today she’s been more restless than usual and the last couple of hours before they close she’s left alone to tend the shop, which means that instead of being cooped up in the dark room, which she is partial to, she has to stand up front at the cashier, which she finds horribly boring.
No one has come by in almost an hour now and she’s starting to consider leaving a note and going out back again when the doorbell tells her that someone’s entered the shop. She looks up to see-
“Shachi! What are you doing here?”
“Pen mentioned that you were working today, so I thought I’d stop by,” he grins. “He recommended that I come see it before it goes out of business and you lose your job.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” she teases back. “I’m closing up in 40 min, do you want to wait and then grab a bite?”
“Nah, I don’t have much time. Just wanted to say hi.”
“Well, it’s not much,” she says, gesturing to the one room shop they’re in, “but it’s a lot more fun than other jobs I’ve had.”
“I didn’t know you were into photography.”
“I guess I have developed an interest as a result of working here,” she explains. “It surprised me, but I actually like the service work too. I mostly do digital bookkeeping, so I have been able to keep the job even when abroad.”
“You are a very fascinating person,” he says.
“Not any more than you,” she counters. “How are things? Has the school-year begun yet?”
“Last week,” he confirms. “I’m setting up a volleyball tournament to get the kids excited. It’s fun to see them flail around.”
“And how’s my brother doing?” she asks with a comical wiggle of her eyebrow.
“He’s fine,” Shachi shrugs, but a slight, pinkish tint appears over his cheeks. “It’s nice to have the apartment to ourselves, with Law gone this week.”
The silence that follows is filled with the awkwardness of indirectly bringing up both her brother’s and her own sex life in the same sentence, and none of them manages to find anything to say. A customer comes into the shop and hands her a film roll, pays and leaves.
“Are any of these yours?” Shachi asks when they’re alone again, gesturing to the photos on the wall behind her.
“No no no,” she protests. “I could never. Besides, the photos I like to take aren’t the kind you hang on the wall.”
“I see,” he says, smirking. “Have you sent any to Law yet?”
She shakes her head. “Do you think I should?”
“Yes,” he says in all seriousness.
She stops abruptly.
“Really? I- uhm, are you sure? I don’t want to presume-”
“If you want to make him lose his mind, you absolutely should.”
“You’re not messing with me, right? I don’t want to scare him away. He seems so… respectable?”
“I see your concern,” Shachi says, “and if you want to take things slow, you should.”
“But?”
“If you want to seduce him, you should send him the most desperately horny pictures, but show minimal nudity. Trust me, he’s depraved, but prudish at the same time. He loves that convoluted shit.”
“Hmm,” she contemplates it. “You gave me great advice last time. If it weren’t for the fact that he did his best to keep away from me, I’m pretty sure it would have worked.”
“It did work! He’s hooked, you just need to reel him in.”
“You’re horrible, you know that? You enjoy this way too much,”
“Maybe,” he snickers. “Well, I have to go now. Have a good one!”
“Thanks for stopping by!”
----
At the end of the second day of the conference, Law is already sick of it. He can’t stand the thought of even one more quarter of an hour in the presence of his colleagues. He even had to forgo his usual, most-needed 3 o’clock coffee, simply to avoid the flock of assholes surrounding the machine and the conversation they most-likely would trap him in.
But now the day is over and he can finally get to the whole reason for this extraneous trip in the first place. The beam of light in the darkness. The only reason Law even said yes to this horrid idea of a 5 day conference: it happens to take place in the same town where Bepo is doing his residency.
Despite only being 3 hours by train, he hasn’t gotten to see him much at all lately and getting one or two nights with his best friend is worth all the stuck up academics he needs to refrain himself from smacking.
They meet downtown after Bepo is done with his shift, have chinese and then a glass of wine before wandering through the small centre of town, waiting for the movie.
“You seem very happy,” Bepo says, his brows furrowed, as if happiness is a rare disease Law has contracted.
“I’m not,” Law argues, “this conference is at my personal 4th circle of hell.” He keeps his voice level, but the corners of his lips lift up on their own and he can’t make himself mad at it.
“I’m so happy for you!” Bepo exclaims and Law wonders if Bepo ever really listens to what he says.
“It’s nothing big, it’s just-” Law begins before he knows how much he actually wants to reveal. “It’s just that I might have met someone.”
Bepo’s eyes get huge with shock and his smile widens even more. "Does this have something to do with Y/N?"
Even though Law already had called Bepo to berate him for not telling him that Penguin has a sister, he had refrained from mentioning anything concerning his indecent desires about said sister, but it seems that Bepo had already put two and two together.
“It might,” Law answers with a sigh.
“I knew you two would hit it off!” Bepo exclaims. “Hadn’t it been for Penguin, I would have insisted you two meet a lot sooner.”
“I’ve been wondering about that. Shachi hadn’t even met her, so when did you meet her?”
“Oh, she moved apartments last year. Shachi was away and Penguin didn’t want to invite you, so he asked if I could help out. She’s so sweet!”
“I didn’t think Penguin would be the type to be overprotective of his sister.”
“He’s not.”
“Oh yes, he is,” Law insists.
“He’s overprotective of you,” Bepo says and Law’s mind screeches to a halt.
“… what?”
“He doesn’t want her to steal you away from him,” he explains. “Apparently, she’s kind of a flirt.”
Law chooses not to comment on that.
They find their seats, but as he pulls up his phone to switch it off, yes, he switches his phone off at the movies, it’s not that weird, he sees that she’s sent him a new message.
A new picture.
No no no no, not now. Bad idea.
Unfortunately, there’s no way he can refrain from looking at it now that he knows it exists. That would be asking his imagination to fire up all his dirty fantasies right before the movie starts. He’ll just have a short peek. Who knows, maybe it isn’t even-
Fuck. Law is fucked.
The picture is arousing alright.
She’s splayed out on a couch, dressed in only a loose robe that has slipped off her leg, showing off skin all the way up to her hip bone and large parts of her outer thigh. The picture’s taken from above her head so her face isn’t in the frame, but her one naked shoulder is. The fabric hanging loosely off it barely covers the left part of her chest and he’s sure he can see the darker skin of her areolae just beyond the hem of the robe and the hand that isn’t holding the phone is casually resting on her thigh, fingers reaching ever so slightly into the robe on their way to do god knows what and Law is turned on like a light switch.
His cheeks flame up with heat and he grips his phone harder as he struggles to turn it off before someone else sees what’s on it. Then there’s the humiliating task of positioning himself so that there’s as little friction as possible between the coarse material of his tight jeans and his very unwelcome erection.
At his side Bepo looks at him worriedly and seems like he’s about to say something, but then the commercials come to an end and the light goes down in the theatre. Law takes deep breaths, forcing himself to push all indecent thoughts away and when the familiar theme music of Sora, warrior of the sea: Encounter of Kings blast out of the speakers, he feels confident that he will succeed.
That’s when Pink Poison takes the screen. Dressed in a sheer nightgown she kills 5 soldiers. With her mouth.
Law is so fucked.
----
Bepo lives on the outskirts of town in student housing and has to get up early the next day. When the movie ends, Law walks him to the station and they say goodbye. Maybe they’ll manage to see each other once more before Law leaves, maybe not. Right now though there’s only one thing on his mind and the moment Bepo’s bus drives off, Law calls up Y/N.
“You ruined Sora,” he accuses her when she picks up, but despite his stern tone, he’s sort of smiling.
“Law?”
“Your actions have consequences you know.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand at all,” Y/N says. “What are you talking about?”
“The pictures,” he explains painstakingly.
“Ohhh.” There's a pause before she continues, “so you did get the pictures.”
He swears that he can hear her smirk.
“Yes, I got the pictures,” he says.
“Well, you didn’t answer, so I wasn’t sure,” she explains. “I thought maybe the first one didn’t go through, so I sent one more.”
It hits him that he didn’t even think about answering her pictures, despite having masturbated to them, twice. That’s not only embarrassing, but blatantly disrespectful. Not to mention frightfully uncool.
“Well… did you like them?” she asks and her amusement is obvious.
“That’s besides the point!” he sputters.
“So what you’re saying is that you’re mad you had to sit through a movie with a boner?”
“I’m mad that I missed 10 minutes of it when I was forced to do something as downgrading as relieving myself in a cinema toilet.”
It just spills out of him and the moment he admits to this out loud he’s struck by regret.
“What?” she exclaims in shock, then a laugh follows, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear. “Why didn’t you wait it out?” she asks.
“I couldn’t,” he mutters, cursing himself for continuing on this degrading and embarrassing subject.
“What do you mean you couldn’t?”
“The movie was sexy, okay?” he whispers reluctantly into the microphone.
“‘Sora, warrior of the sea’ was too sexy?” she asks, now cackling even louder.
“It wasn’t a problem the last time I saw it, so obviously it’s-”
“Law, hold on.”
He freezes at the change in her tone.
“You’ve seen it before?”
“Well, yes. Once, but-”
“You’re blaming me for making you miss 10 out of 200 minutes you’ve seen before?”
“... yes.”
“Law, do you want me to stop with the pictures?” she asks and it’s a straightforward question, free from teasing and flirting.
“Of course not,” he says, without even thinking.
“Then I won’t,” she says simply. With a short chuckle she adds, “Sorry about Sora.”
“I forgive you,” he says genuinely before realising that she wasn’t actually that sorry. She laughs loudly again.
“You are really something, Trafalgar Law.”
Law doesn’t know what to say.
“Call me again soon,” she says and with that, she hangs up.
He’s left dumbstruck.
Then his hands move on their own and before he knows it, he’s pulled up the message log with the pictures. Looking at them now, they’re quite tame. Not that they’re bad, the very opposite actually, they’re good pictures. The composition and lighting enhances its subject in a very… flattering way. It’s just that they’re not as risque now at a second glance. It’s embarrassing to think that this was all it took to rile him up so thoroughly.
He still saves them to his phone.
Then he sends off a text.
LAW I’m coming back on the 10th.
After a second of contemplating he sends off another one.
LAW I really like the robe.
Compared to how much he enjoyed the pictures, it’s a weak compliment, but he can’t get himself to be more explicit. Being sexy in person is hard enough, the pressure of being sexy over text is terrifying.
And he does like the robe. He really, really likes the robe.
Y/N Come see me on the 10th? LAW Okay.
He cringes at how indifferent he sounds, but doesn’t dare to write anything more, afraid to make an even bigger fool of himself.
----
Y/N I think the pictures worked! I kept it very subtle, but he even called me to complain about them. That’s a good sign, right? Shachi complain how? Y/N That he got too horny I think? I didn’t really understand, but he was sort of annoyed that he was out in public when he saw it. Shachi amazing!! your on the right track next step is leave him wanting more! if you want to send more pictures, make sure they’re not as desperate as the ones you started with Y/N I can’t say I understand, but I trust you wholeheartedly. Shachi update me l8er Y/N Say hi to Pen for me Shachi he says hi back! Y/N Really? Shachi actually he says “stop texting my bf, homewrecker” Y/N That’s more like it.
----
By the time Friday rolls around, Law has been to 4 boring dinners, 1 slightly fascinating lecture, 3 frightfully bad ones and 1 disgustingly opulent fundraiser. He’s gotten 5 new pictures from Y/N and masturbated a lot more times than he wants to count.
He’s spent.
Really, he can’t remember the last time he was this exhausted and he regularly does 12 hour shifts.
He got sick of the group of academics he’s travelling with already at the first lunch, they’re all terrible conversationalists. He’s used to zoning out the long monologues and self-praising around these guys, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.
Tonight is the goodbye dinner and he would pay good money to get out of it, but alas, his boss is one of the worst of the bunch and Law can’t afford pissing him off more than he already has. One can say Law has toned down his punk attitude since his manifesto-creating-days and is now what you can call a typical 30-year-old sell out on the cusp of his big break, who very well knows the importance of pampering important men with big egos.
She would laugh at him if she were here.
He hasn’t called her since that day. She did tell him too, but he figured it would be too much. What would he even tell her, how many more times he’s masturbated to the thought of her since last they spoke? No, thank you.
The pictures were a blessing at first, a welcome escape from his personal hell, but lately every new message he receives is like an additional ball and chain around his foot, reminding him of exactly what it is he doesn’t have. They’re still very modest, but paired with the knowledge of how she sounds when she chases her climax, it’s awfully effective even so.
The more she sends him, the more starved he feels.
----
Y/N I think I fucked up Shachi shit what did you do? Y/N Just what you told me to! But he hasn’t called me again and he’s not responding to the pictures, it’s been like 2 days since he replied maybe he’s disappointed by the new ones? They are a lot less horny than the first Ahhh, now I just feel stupid I’ve spent hours taking these photos, Shachi… HOURS Shachi nooo but honestly it sounds like hes only being his regular loser self and doesn’t know how to text but if you really feel like your losing him you could try to amp up the heat a little gtg now but good luck!!!!! update me l8er
Amp up the heat, huh?
----
“Trafalgar! Are you married?”
Just when Law believed he could go through the whole week without answering questions about himself, one of his colleagues had to learn just a smidge of common decency in the nick of time and ask him a question.
“No, I am not,” he answers simply.
“Thought so,” the other man grunts. “None of you youngins are able to keep a job and a girl at the same time. In my time…”
Bla bla bla.
At least Law won’t be forced to answer more questions for a while now that the “When I was young”- monologue has begun.
He subtly glances down at his phone and sees that he’s received 1 new message and 3 new photos from Y/N in only the last 30 minutes. He knows he should wait until he’s back at his room to have a look, but he can’t help himself. Something nice for his inner eye to look at is exactly what he needs to survive this dinner and none of the latest pictures have even come close to being as explicit as the first two, so he figures he’ll be fine.
He opens the app and the first thing he sees is that she’s sent him her address and an invitation to come to her when he gets back. Then he slowly scrolls up to see the new pictures and-
… Law flatlines.
“Trafalgar! Are you alright?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy.”
He locks his phone and looks up to see everyone around the table looking at him in a mix of confusion and curiosity.
“I have gotten some disturbing news,” he says slowly and doesn’t even have to pretend to act shocked. “If you will excuse me.”
On the way out of the restaurant he grabs their waiter, pays his share and gives her a weighty tip, while asking her to communicate to his dinner companions that he was forced to leave in the case of an emergency.
30 minutes later he’s checked out and on his way to the train station. He gets to his platform just in time to see the last train roll into the station and he thanks the lord above, who he doesn’t believe in.
4 hours later he’s at Y/N’s address.
----
“Hi.”
“Law,” she greets him, a slight indication of a smile on her lips, as if she’s considering whether to laugh or not.
“Hi,” he says again, softer.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
“It’s the tenth,” he says and holds up his arm to show her his watch. It shows 00.42.
“So it is,” she chuckles softly in surprise.
“And you asked me to come,” he says, slightly short of breath, “on the tenth.”
“I did do that,” she says, almost in a whisper.
The silence is loaded with everything unspoken. He catches her glancing down at his mouth. She catches him trailing her figure with his eyes.
“So, did you want to come in?” she asks, as if he was just a normal guest ringing her doorbell on a normal day, not the man she’s been thinking about constantly the last two weeks ringing her doorbell in the middle of the night.
“Please,” Law says. He too almost succeeded in sounding completely normal.
When she lets him in, it dawns on her what this means, having him here, now, in her apartment. The embarrassment seeps into her as the overwhelming shock of seeing him again settles.
“I didn’t expect-” she says, with a slight stutter.
She was going to shower, she was going to shave, she was going to take out the trash blocking the doorway and she was going to clean up the multiple bowls of old, soggy cereal on the kitchen counter. He was not supposed to come before-
“Y/N,” he says in a quiet, breathy voice. He speaks so close to her ear that she feels a tingling down her spine. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, I just-”
He stops himself mid-sentence and she looks up to see why. In the dim light of the corridor, his eyes almost look black. They’re still golden, but now they’re dark, like petroleum, like oil, and she could simply drown in those eyes. What a terrifyingly sweet death. She would let him drag her down into the sticky black goo of delicious tar in a heartbeat.
“Y/N?” he repeats, for the first time tonight with a smile.
“Ye- Yes,” she says, a small chuckle escaping her at how utterly stupid she must look and the fact that she simply does not care. She doesn’t even care about the two bags of trash at their feet. She doesn’t care about her greasy hair, about being sweaty and dirty. This is the best thing that could have possibly happened tonight.
“Am I interrupting?” he asks.
She nods before she can register what he was saying and a prominent line draws down over his brow in worry.
“I am?” he asks. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“Law,” she coos and without even thinking, she lays a reassuring hand on his cheek, her fingertips gracing the soft strands of his hair. “It’s good to see you.”
He eases up under her touch, ever so slightly even leaning into it.
“Likewise,” he murmurs.
“Would you like to stay the night?” she asks, not really sure why, it’s really way too late for him to go anywhere else, but it does feel right to ask. It lets her reveal that she really wants him to.
“I would,” he admits, a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. “And would you like it if I kissed you now?” he asks her in a low murmur.
She gives him his answer by running her hand further into his hair, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards her slowly.
Firstly, their noses meet for a second. It’s only a small colliding of noses, but it breaks the ice and makes what comes after seem easier.
Secondly, their foreheads touch. A touch that is not innocent, but rather heavy and solid. A meeting of two minds, aching for connection.
When their lips finally meet it’s slow, but more than that, it’s deep. It’s as if they just skip past the first stages of a first kiss and instead swiftly fall into the hungrily unabashed type of kiss, slowly and meticulously tasting each other. They fit together like they were always meant to be doing this.
The sizzling chemistry between them does not crystallise itself in a fit of passion, but rather as an all-consuming void. A black hole swallowing their whole world and opening up the pathway to something completely new. Something scary, but exciting.
But with him, there’s no need to worry. It feels like she’s been kissing him for years and she knows exactly what to do. Even though it's scary to feel as if she’s being swallowed down into a hole of nothingness, it feels as if they’re going down together. She doesn’t doubt for even an instant that he will follow her.
“Thank you,” Law manages to say in between kisses.
“For what?”
“For- Fuck, the pictures. Thank you for the pictures.”
“You’re very welcome,” she grins into the kiss.
“But also for being so…”
“So?”
“So… Ehm, it’s just, I’m not a brave person, Y/N,” he begins while she places a trail of kisses down his neck and behind his ear. “Ahh- I- Well, I find these things difficult. And it might have been a lot harder if it weren’t for the fact that you’re so…”
“So…?” she repeats, absolutely teasing him for his ramblings.
“So fearless.”
“What-?” she protests, smiling wide from the flattery, but too embarrassed to do anything else than pull away from him and hide her face.
“So easy to want,” he further explains, cupping her face with both his hands and chasing her back to steal just one more kiss before he adds, “So kind.”
Y/N simply looks back at him for the longest couple of seconds before she can’t contain herself anymore. She needs him. She firmly grips a hold of his jacket and starts dragging him up the short flight of stairs.
Law makes an undignified yelp at being hauled away and he momentarily halts them both in an attempt to take off his outerwear. She tries to drag him with her despite it and he almost loses his balance.
“My shoes-?” he asks, in a way of explaining why he can’t just let himself be dragged inside.
“Leave them on, throw them away,” Y/N suggests hastily, letting go of the grip and disappearing into the bedroom. “I don’t care about the shoes! Just come here.”
“Yes,” he adheres blindly and follows her shortly after.
She waits for him by the edge of the bed and has begun slowly pulling off her sweater. He rushes to reach out and wrap his arms around her when her arms are lifted and the skin of her torso is exposed. As her face appears again from under the fabric, he kisses her lips softly, lazily.
“Y/N,” he moans.
“I need you so badly,” she murmurs back into his lips.
“Tell me more, please,” he begs her.
“About how much I need you?” she asks with an insolent grin.
He nods, his eyes are droopy and fluttering closed as he touches her, kisses her.
“So much,” she breathes out. “I need you so much, Law, I can hardly-”
She interrupts herself when she drops down on the bed and unexpectedly lands on something cold and mysterious. From under her ass, she pulls out sheets of paper- Oh fuck. The fucking comics. She doesn’t even know why, but that’s so embarrassing.
“Oh, these,” she says, not having a clue what she’s going to say, “I borrowed these from the library, just-”
“It was so fucking hot,” he groans and follows after her down on the bed. He takes the comics out of her hands and carefully slips them down on the floor. Then he pulls her over in his lap and grinds up against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “All the pictures were, but- those last ones with the comics and the- Oh, fuck, it was so sexy.”
“Really?” she almost whines, shocked by both his enthusiasm and at the sparks of pleasure shooting up in her at the way he ruts against her.
“I couldn’t help myself, I just had to jump on the first train,” he pants. “Only for you. Because I need you too. So much.”
“Fuck, Law, we need to,” she sighs, “we need to hurry. Off with these. Now.”
“Yeah?” he asks, not speeding up the touches, but actually slowing down and not making any move to remove any of his clothes either. “Are you impatient?”
There’s been a change in him. She couldn’t say when, but at one point he grew confident and now, he’s teasing her.
“Come on,” she orders, “this is not the time.”
He smirks, it’s small and subdued, but so free. It makes her want to smile along and join whatever he’s got planned, but Y/N has an agenda and Law getting fired up with teasing her is not a part of her plan.
“It’s not funny,” she says, trying to sound stern and failing.
“It is actually funny, Y/N,” he argues, “because I knew you’d be like this. All week, while you’ve been teasing me with your pictures, I have spent every waking minute thinking of ways I wanted to tease you back, when I finally got my hands on you.”
“Oh fuck, really?” she asks, getting warm at the thought.
“I knew you’d be so easy to rile up,” he murmurs as he embraces her to unclasp the bra at her back. When he finally gets it to work and pulls the fabric off of her, he lets out a satisfied groan. He starts kissing her chest, gently cupping her breasts with his large, warm hands.
“Oh, these are-” he moans and then his words get muffled as the kisses turn into small, tender nibbles and then an insistent sucking, “mmmh…”
Y/N can’t help the self-consciousness seeping through her pleasure and making her tense.
“They’re not that- I mean, I know that they’re-”
“No, they’re so perfect,” Law interrupts, pulling back to look up at her. “I love them.” He looks so wasted, so far gone. It puts her at ease.
“You think?”
“You are made for me,” he whispers, before once again putting his hot mouth on her nipple, giving it a light tug and releasing it.
“So are you going to give me more?”
“What are you talking about?” he chuckles, cupping her breasts and now even massaging them gently, taking a lot of pleasure in every squeeze. “I’m giving you so much already.”
“You know what I want,” she challenges him, her voice weak and breathless, but he ignores her.
“You smell so good,” he murmurs to himself, burying his face into the crook of her neck again, taking a long whiff of her scent.
Her head falls against his shoulder. She’s giving in to his teasing, revelling in the pleasure she gets, the way his touch feels so feverish and tingling against her skin. She does her best to just enjoy that and to put off all thoughts of what more she wants. She tries her best to just stay in the moment with him, not get impatient and definitely NOT start to beg or anything of the sort. But alas, she can’t help it.
“Please fuck me,” she whimpers before she can stop herself. “I just want you to fuck me hard, Law.”
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, but there’s no warmth in his reassurement, only vicious satisfaction at her weak state. “Begging already? You couldn’t wait any longer? I must say I’m almost disappointed. So impatient, but still so docile.”
She groans in frustration and gently tugs at his sweater to get him to take it off.
”Uh-uh,” he says. “You first.”
He undresses the rest of her and when all that’s left is her underwear, he lets her pull the sweater off over his head along with the t-shirt underneath. When Y/N lays her eyes on his naked chest and shoulders, it’s like she’s equipped with new energy. She takes charge and pounces, pushing him down on the mattress and keeping him there with force as she straddles his hips.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about these,” she says, letting a nail scrape against a line of his chest tattoo. Law inhales sharply, clearly affected by her newfound initiative.
She keeps tracing his tattoos with a faint touch and he responds instinctively, arching his back and lifting up to meet her touch, to get her to do more.
“Fuck, I just love your tattoos, Law,” she whispers, currently following the markings on his left arm, then all the way out to his fingers. She continues exploring the tattoos, but now with her mouth. Greedily, she takes three at a time, letting her tongue circle around each finger.
“Y/N,” he warns, sounding utterly weak.
She hums and buckles her hips down against his’, making him curse. At once she lets go of his hand and she leans over to meet him, face to face.
“Miss being in control?” she asks, teasingly. “Is that it?”
“No,” Law scoffs.
“I don’t believe you,” she sing-songs.
“So now you want to tease? I thought you were getting impatient?” he asks, obviously trying to get back in the driver’s seat. She isn’t going to let him.
“I think you’re very uncomfortable with giving away control,” she says, tenderly placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth, “but I also think it makes you even more turned on when someone takes it from you.”
Law manages to laugh, but it’s a hollow laugh, only made to conceal that what she’s saying is right. That the way she’s holding him down and taking the reins, is simply making him go insane.
“I am not going to deprive you of that depraved lust, baby,” she whispers, grinding down on him once more. “I’m going to shower you in it. I’m going to take care of you.”
“Y/N,” he moans.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Just give it to me,” he sighs. “I’ll take it all.”
She laughs. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” she teases, “but now it’s your turn to wait.”
“Please,” he begs, “I think I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying, Law,” she says, fondly caressing his forehead. “You’re living.”
“Ah,” he sighs. “It’s exhausting.”
While she strips him naked, he’s mostly quiet. A soft gasp here and there as her nails scrape against his skin or as she leaves an unexpected kiss along his thighs.
The last item of clothing she removes is the black boxers, keeping his very hard dick encaged in the tight fabric. She’s already noticed that it’s big, that it would be more than satisfying. She’s caught herself biting her lip in suspense just looking at the outline of it, more times than one. He’s probably caught her a few times too.
But when she actually strips the boxers off him and it bounces against his stomach in its natural state, she can’t help but widen her eyes at the sight.
“Shit, you are big,” she murmurs in surprise.
“Yeah, uhm, well,” he begins, shifting uncomfortably up to lean against his elbows, “it can be a bit much.”
She swallows hard, feeling excitement bubbles inside her at the thought and wondering just what “a bit much” would entail.
“Do you have any lube?” he asks. Suddenly he’s back to being uncomfortable and anxious, avoiding her gaze.
“Sure,” she says, moving closer to him and picking up his hand, “but I don’t think we’re going to need any.”
Then she leads his hand to push past the edge of her underwear and into the pooling wetness that lies beyond.
He inhales sharply when the tips of his fingers easily slide deeper into her, lubricated by one simple touch.
“Fuck me,” he gasps, “that’s incredible. You are fucking incredible.”
She recognises that if there’s one time where it’s appropriate for her to take control, it would be now. Even though Law’s eyes are clouded with lust from feeling her wetness with his own fingers, he still looks unsure of how to proceed. She would guess that he’s had multiple bad experiences with feeling guilty from hurting people during sex with his big, fat dick. Y/N would laugh if he didn’t look so distraught.
“Are you clean?” she asks, pulling off his panties.
He nods slowly.
“Me too,” she tells him, “and I’m on contraception.”
“What are you saying?” he asks.
“I guess I’m asking you if you would mind fucking me without a condom?”
Law’s jaw goes slack, then he nods.
“So you would mind?”
“What? No, I mean, no, I wouldn’t mind,” he corrects himself, his cheeks flaring up.
“Ok?” she asks as she takes a hold around his dick
“But shouldn’t we-” he begins.
“Just let me give it to you,” she reassures him, finding her place on top and lining herself with him.
“Are you sure?” he asks through gritted teeth as the head hooks into her entrance and the tip enters her.
“Yes,” she gasps at the delicious stretch, “I’ll take care of it. Just give me a minute before you do anything.”
“Fuck,” he curses, “yeah, ok.” He does his best to control his breathing as she begins sinking down.
He’s warm. And of course big. Girthy. She’s overwhelmed just from taking a little part of him.
“It’s not that bad,” she gasps, “just a little more time and I’ll be opened up and-”
That’s when the stretch becomes almost too much. She shifts her knees in order to lift herself up again ever so slightly, but then her knee lands on something slippery under the covers that makes her thigh glide further away.
In an attempt to keep herself upright, she tries leaning forward with her hands planted on his chest, but at the same time, Law lunges forward too, trying to grab her hips to keep her from falling and-
She slams down on his hips and he bottoms out into her, going deeper than she’s ever felt anything before.
“AHh, fuck.”
He groans at the long-awaited friction while she whimpers at the overwhelming stretch, painful and pleasurable at the same time.
“I’m so, so, sorry,” he begins. He takes a hold of her hips and tries to help her off him, but she won’t budge. She’s frozen, clinging to his torso with all she’s got.
“Y/N, get off,” Law orders, but it’s clear that it takes him a lot of restraint to utter those words, “I’m hurting you.”
“No,” she groans, “no, we have to stay like this for now.”
“Y/N-”
“It’s just so good, I can’t-” she gasps for air. Then she moves her hips in the slightest buckle and lets out a moan.
“Oh fuck,” Law groans, automatically gripping her hips in an attempt to get more movement out of her.
“Don’t move,” Y/N orders.
“Of course not,” Law croaks. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it.”
“I just need this for a little bit,” she murmurs, once again grinding down very gently and very controlled, drawing out a frustrated whine from Law.
Oh. That’s nice.
She wants to hear it again, so she does it once more. It’s really too much for her, but it gives her just what she wanted. His groans are so deliciously arousing and she begins rocking in a constant movement to keep them coming.
“No, this is no good. You’re hurting,” he says and stops her movement with a firm grip around her waist. “Let me.”
There’s something in his voice that makes her turn compliant again and she lets him lead her off him and down to lie on the mattress. He pulls out another comic from under the sheets, presumably the cause of her little slip up. She whines in disappointment, already aching at the loss of him inside her, but then she feels a touch at her entrance again and quickly after a finger plunges deep into her.
Even though the pressure from one single finger is lacklustre compared to what she just experienced, the swift motion makes sparks fly all the way up to her ears.
“Again,” she begs.
He complies, but he must have added another finger already because the pressure increases, giving her a new type of shock.
“I’m done teasing you now,” he murmurs softly, “this is purely practical. Now that I’ve felt you all the way, I can’t help myself. I need to open you up as quickly as possible, so that I can fuck you hard, just like you asked me to.”
His words send a jolt through her stomach in time with his fingers sliding back in. This time, though, he keeps them there and slowly begins pulling her open from the inside, stretching her good. Then he pulls them out to an indignant groan from her.
“Y/N. Lube,” he orders.
“In the drawer,” she pants, “the nightstand.”
When his fingers return, they’re colder.
“You can take one more, right baby?” he asks softly. “You can take three of my fingers?”
“Yes,” she insists.
She can. Three whole fingers are stuffed into her and when he somewhat curls them, deep inside of her, her hips involuntarily buckle up into the air. She lets out a breathy whine.
“Yes! Do that again,” she pleads.
“Of course,” he grins.
And he does.
“Oh, I- it’s… ah,” she whines incoherently.
“You’re getting so loose,” he praises her. “Can you do one more?”
“I’ll take anything you give me,” she says, so high on the endorphins, feeling like nothing more than a pliant blob in his grip. He adds one more and now the stretch returns, but now it’s only good, no longer painful.
“You’re ready for another go?” he asks. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes!” she moans. “Fuck, I want to.”
His fingers pull out and she waits for him with her eyes fluttering closed. He finds his place and lines himself up, but he doesn’t push in. He rubs his tip against her folds, dipping in and out of the pool of heat.
She loves it so much, she doesn’t even think to complain about the teasing of it. She is even disappointed for a second when he stops, but then he begins sinking into her again and she can’t focus on anything else. She breathes deeply, ordering herself to relax into it, to be good. She wants him to think that she’s good.
He sinks in completely and stays there,
“Breathe,” he orders her. She releases the breath she’s holding. “Good. How does it feel?”
“Good,” is all she can think to say. “So good.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, not like last time.” It’s hard to put together the words in whole sentences. It does hurt, but it’s not a scary hurt. It’s good. It’s so, so, so, so good. She feels like her brain is submerged in goo, making everything happen slowly.
“Just keep breathing. Until you’re completely relaxed,” he inhales deeply, “I won’t move at all.”
Y/N focuses all she’s got on her breathing. With each inhale she feels him stretch her more and with each outhale she relaxes around him. She’s sure he could have begun moving a long time ago without bringing any real hurt to her, but the slow pace brings a kind of excitement with it.
“60,” Law whispers, “59, 58.”
Slowly, he begins counting down. Without actually knowing what will happen when he reaches 0, Y/N can feel her arousal blossoming up even more. She begins yearning for movement, for friction.
“43, 42, 41.”
His mouth is almost at her ear and each whisper causes tingles down her spine.
“36, 35.”
She moans in response, showing him what he’s doing to her and how eager she is for him to reach the end of his countdown. He chuckles, but he doesn’t lose track of the counting.
“19, 18, 17.”
“Yes, Law,” she whispers. “Please, I want it.”
“11, 10, 9.”
She clenches hard around him, eager for the stimulation and he skips a number in response.
“6, 4,” he gasps. “3, 2, 1.”
Law pulls out halfway before he slowly pushes back in.
“Yes!”
It’s bliss. It’s only pure bliss.
He begins pumping into her, still not fast, but hard. Long, deep strokes. He takes her legs and lifts them up to get even deeper and she gasps at the sensation.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, “is this okay?”
“Yes! Fuck, yes, it’s perfect.”
He replies with a filthy groan, picking up the pace considerably.
She can’t stop making sounds, it’s like he’s fucking them out of her. It’s like he’s unlocked a blockage in her chest and now all her airflow has to be made into sound. She’s chanting his name with each thrust.
“You’re so good for me,” he praises.
“Law.”
“Y/N,” he gasps, sounding close to his climax, “how can you come?”
“On top,” she manages to croak in between breaths.
In the next moment he pulls out of her and she’s being tossed around to land on top of his chest.
“Come on, please, just use me however you want,” he begs. “I’m yours.”
And she does.
It takes a while to build up, but when it arrives, she rides him through her climax with a grip around his shoulders so firm that she probably bruises him.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, “fuck, you’re sexy. So perfect.”
“Law,” she groans, tensing up and collapsing on top of him.
“Let me fuck you, please, let me fuck you til I come,” Law begs.
“Yes. Just use me back,” she complies, feeling so completely relaxed and submissive, as if no real tension exists in her body. “Whatever you need, Law, take it.”
He fucks her fast, up close and intimate, forehead touching forehead, untill he comes deep inside her with a long-drawn groan and a sigh of her name.
----
When she comes back from the bathroom she finds an extremely relaxed Law, spread out across the bed. He lifts his arms, just barely, to show that he wants her to lay down next to him.
“Next time, I’m going to tease you-” he yawns in the middle of the sentence, “-a lot more. So just prepare yourself.”
“Yeah,” she grins, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“You don’t think I could drive you insane?”
“Sure, but you would drive yourself insane first.”
A sheepish grin draws on his lips. It’s the most precious thing she’s ever seen and she pulls herself closer into him.
“Law,” she sighs.
“Yes?”
She hasn’t got anymore to say, but she lets out another satisfied sigh. He chuckles in response.
“I agree,” he murmurs.
“Remind me to thank Shachi,” she mutters to herself.
“Ok. Why?”
“He was the one who told me to send you the pictures,” she explains, almost half-asleep already. “He was the one who gave me all the advice during last week too. Told me to wear those skimpy shorts and to get you to drive me everywhere. To show up in the middle of the night with a bottle of wine.”
Law wakes from his postcoital stupor with a jolt.
“Wait a minute.” His face is drawn down in a frown of confusion. “You’re taking advice on flirting from Shachi?”
Y/N now too recovers to a more conscious state. Regret flashes over her face as she says, “Yeah, I uhm- Is that bad?”
Law falls back on the bed and buries his face in his hands. For a second it looks like he’s crying and Y/N begins to really freak out, but as he moves his hands to reveal his face, she sees that he’s laughing. Like a proper laugh. Big mouth, showing teeth. She even gets a glimpse of his tongue. It’s so different from all the smirking, chuckling and sinister laughter he usually does, it catches her completely off guard.
“I really overestimated you,” he sighs, coming down from his laughter high.
“What do you mean?” Y/N asks.
“Here I thought you were some magical siren creature, created from my deepest desires. Instead, it appears that I have a mole in my midst, leaking private information and you, it turns out,” he smiles, “are just as neurotic as me. Fuck, that is such a relief actually.”
As he says it, he reaches out after her and pulls her into his embrace. She ends up resting against his chest with her head against his shoulder. Suddenly him calling her neurotic is the highest compliment in the world.
“I might be neurotic, yes, though I could never compete with your nerves,” she argues, but all real concern is washed away and she is now in a blissful state of complaisance.
“Are you sure?” he counters. “Seemed like you could very well compete with my need for control. Maybe there’s more we have in common.”
“Let’s find out,” she chuckles.
“I can’t wait,” he responds fondly.
Y/N turns around and lies down on the top of his chest to look at him face to face. After studying him for a few seconds, gathering courage, she asks, “Be my boyfriend, Law.”
His eyes go big and his jaw goes slack. She holds her breath waiting for his response.
“Oh, okay,” he finally says. “Yeah, I would love to.”
“Really?”
“Fuck yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend,” he confirms, “and you’ll be my girlfriend.”
“Yeah,” she says.
“Shit,” he chuckles. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“But good.”
“Good.”
They both sigh deeply, almost in unison, both knocked out by the heat and passion of what they just experienced. And by the fear of finding something this good. Something they would want to keep forever, if they could.
Part 1
On AO3
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Chapter 14: The Shadow to my Flame
Series masterlist
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Ashe woke up and was no longer being cuddled by Azriel. However, her mind was in a little better place, so she didn’t feel totally abandoned like she did last night.
Azriel wasn’t cuddling her, but his shadows were. They held her almost like it was Azriel doing it. They were brushing through her hair and holding onto her legs. She felt herself pressing her head further and further into their comforting hold.
She didn’t open her eyes until Azriel sat down on her bed, and she felt it dip. He picked up her hand like he had done yesterday.
“Ready for some food? Or are you going to keep snoring?”
Ashe ignored his comment about her snoring and eventually got up from the warm bed, with her hand still in Azriel’s. Most of the shadows left her, but some of them still held on to various places on her body.
“Do you mind them?” Azriel asked her and she looked over at him.
He wore comfortable clothing, he was still in his pyjamas, and his hair looked quite messy. His eyes looked very light, and he smiled at her.
“I don’t mind them, I just-”
She stopped speaking when she noticed the table.
Azriel had moved her desk to the middle of the room and laid a small tablecloth on it. It was set for two and had various foods on it. Egg and bacon, oats and milk, and some chocolate croissants. On the middle of the table stood an unlit candle. Ashe almost gaped at the table.
“I made breakfast,” Azriel said. “Samli got us the croissants. Hungry?”
She sat down, still a bit shock about the kindness he shows her.
“Do you mind lighting the candle?” he looked hopeful at her.
She felt like a dark cloud covered her head. What if she hit him instead? What if she lost control and hurt him? What is she burned down the house? What if she hurt Samli and Thord after everything they had done for her?
“Breathe,” Azriel pulled her out of her spiral. His brushed his thumb over her hand and his eyes grounded her. “You can do this. Just remember to breathe. If something happens, we’ll work on it.”
Ashe doesn’t know why, but she trusted his words. His soft voice made her stress less.
So, she did it. She lifted her free hand, squeezed Azriel’s hand with the other and lighted the candle. She sent the smallest flame, and it lit the candle immediately. It was lit for about two seconds, before it extinguished.
She looked confused at Azriel, but he only smiled at her. He looked proud.
“Light it again.”
She did it and it extinguished once more.
“Again.”
The same happened.
“Do you understand?” Azriel asked her.
She shocks her head. No, she didn’t understand. She was just becoming more and more annoyed. She lit the candle, and it extinguished without any reason. How did it happen?
“Light it again.”
She got annoyed but did it anyway. Second after she had lit the candle, she saw how a single shadow flew through the flame and extinguished it. The shadow then danced with the smoke.
“You didn’t hurt me. I flinched, because it surprised me. I was expecting to be hurt, but it was only soft and warm. You are not a danger. I know you won’t ever hurt me or anyone else you care about. You have the flames, and I have the shadows. I’m the shadow to your flame.”
“The shadow to my flame,” she muttered.
Ashe heard his words and even though they highly warmed her heart, she couldn’t trust him just yet.
“But I lost control,” she said and looked down at her still bandaged hands.
Azriel carefully reached his gloved hand towards her and lifted her chin.
“Everybody loses control sometimes. That just means we practiced too much or did something that now was too difficult. Losing control is a good thing, because you now know what to practice so that is doesn’t happen again.”
She nodded at his words and meant it. He was slowly but surely getting through to her.
“I’m here when you’re ready to talk. I know it’s hard, but none of us can help you if we don’t know what you need help with, Flame. If you figure out what you’re needing, we’ll all help you get better.”
She nodded once more.
She should just jump into it, shouldn’t she? He had proven that he wouldn’t judge her and with her already broken mental state, it couldn’t be much worse.
She looked over to the floor length mirror she had covered. Ashe no longer dared to watch herself. She was too scared to see him and not herself. She didn’t know herself anymore, but for some reason, she hoped Azriel did.
“I can’t,” she started, but had to stop at her shaky voice. Azriel squeezed her hand a little and it gave her the courage she needed to speak, even if it was just a whisper. “I only see him. I no longer see myself.”
It probably was an awful explanation, but she couldn’t explain it better.
Azriel nodded at her words, and it was visible he was thinking. His shadows were swirling around his head and Ashe felt insecure about being left out of the conversation they were having.
“Do you trust me?” Azriel then asked.
Ashe should probably have spent some time thinking about her answer, but she didn’t hesitate.
“Yes,” she answered him confidently.
The most adorable blush grew on his face and Ashe couldn’t help but smile.
Azriel stood up and helped Ashe up with him. He walked both of them towards the mirror. Ashe hesitated for a second, but Azriel’s encouraging look helped her. He stopped when Ashe stood directly in front of the mirror. Azriel let go of her hand and Ashe immediately got more anxious. It was like his hand had been a lid to all her fears.
He looked directly into her eyes as he removed the blanket she had placed over the mirror.
Ashe could see herself in her side vision but chose to look directly at Azriel. He wore a soft smile and even in her state it made her weak in the knees. He kept smiling as he walked over to her, he took hold of both her arms and stopped directly behind her.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded, still not able to look at the mirror. She didn’t even dare to look at him through the mirror.
Azriel lifted his arm in a tempo where Ashe could stop him if she needed to. He stopped with his hand right under her chin. Ashe was well aware over what he was planning, but she let him do it anyway.
She could do it. She could do it. She could do it.
“Is this alright?”
“Yes.”
Azriel’s hand touched her chin and slowly moved her head so that her head faced the mirror. Ashe looked at the celling instead. Her brain convinced her that it would be his wicked smile looking back at her.
“Look at me,” he said, and Ashe tried to move her head around so that she could watch him over her shoulder. Azriel, however, stopped her movement by using a soft touch on her chin. “Through the mirror, Flame.”
She let out a small sigh. She hoped she could trick him.
After she had taken a few very deep breaths and long exhales, she moved her eyes to look at Azriel’s hazel eyes through the mirror. To prevent her eyes from jumping to another place, she began studying Azriel’s entire face. His hazel eyes were glowing from the sunshining, and she could see some brown stripes through his otherwise pitch-black hair. She saw how his lips were tilted up in a smile, but that the smile was slightly higher on his left side than the right.
“My father was my abuser too,” he started explaining and Ashe felt her heart scream at the thought of him being hurt. “I didn’t have an easy childhood, and even though I hurt people as a living, I would never hurt the innocent. Cassian’s father sent him to the Illyrian camps and forced him to learn how to protect himself. Cass is the most thoughtful fae I have ever met. Rhysand’s father was a strict High Lord and Rhys got some harsh love throughout the years, but Rhys does his best to see everybody. My friend Morrigan’s father sold her to the Autumn Court to make an alliance. I expect you already know this, but she almost died at her father’s hands. Mor is making sure the same doesn’t happen to other females from the Hewn City.”
He lifted his hand and Ashe involuntary looked at his movements. He lifted it and brushed it through her short hair. The red was showing almost more than the brown now. Ashe didn’t know what do think about it.
“You’re not Beron,” Azriel continued and Ashe felt her eyes widen at the sound of the High Lord’s name. Calling him Beron almost gave her the feeling that she didn’t need to fear him. “You, my Flame, are Ashe. You are Ashe, the female that wrote down as many details about the High Lord as you could, because you wanted to protect others. You saved me from the dungeons without even knowing me. And you took Samli’s punishment without even hesitating. Beron would never even understand why someone could do that without evil motives.”
Azriel moved his hand so that it cupped her face and Ashe focused on each and every scare she could see on his hand.
“You feel too much to be Beron. Okay, so you are a Wildflame that does crazy and dangerous things sometimes, but you also care so much for the people around you without even hesitating. You gave away all your money to Samli, because you knew she was struggling. You spilled tea on a guard and was ready to face the punishment when you saved me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you think Beron would ever do that.”
She couldn’t.
Realisation flushed over her as she realized she believed him.
“There she is,” he said, and Ashe couldn’t help the blushfilled smile she smiled at him. “I don’t know about you, but I have been admiring your eyes for the last couple of minutes. Wouldn’t you like to do the same?”
She listened to his voice and did as he asked her.
Her amber eyes looked even more golden than usual. She saw hope in herself. The dull eyes she had seen the last couple of times she had looked in the mirror was now gone.
She looked at a slightly skinnier version of herself that had shorter hair, but her eyes and smile was the same. She could see that now.
Somethings hadn’t changed.
“You look beautiful,” Azriel whisper to her.
Azriel had left after breakfast, but only after Ashe promised she would eat at least two more solid meals that day.
He had left with a squeeze of her hand, but deep-down Ashe wished it had been one more of those soft kisses to her lips. At the same time, she knew she should keep as much energy as possible taking care of herself.
She got dressed properly for the first time in weeks. She wore a simple dress she had gotten from Samli. It felt weird, but at the same time right to go down stairs in the middle of the day. Velaris was more beautiful at night, she realized.
She had spent the day with Samli. They ate lunch together and spoke about all and nothing. Samli had started knitting as a way to spent time. Neither Thord or Samli had gotten jobs yet, but Thord often got small odd-jobs. Samli found life without a farm to be boring. She had way too much time and didn’t know what to do about it.
Ashe felt the same.
She was used to working all day every day, but at the same time, her body was too weak to do anything about it.
It was dark when Thord got home from one of his odd jobs.
Samli and Ashe had prepared an easy dinner, and they ate together. It felt nice. They spoke and laughed like they used to do in Autumn.
Samli started doing the dished and Thord and Ashe sat down to play some cards before they went to sleep.
“What do you think about the shadowsinger?” Thord asked her. He looked a little worried.
Ashe didn’t know how to answer.
Azriel was amazing, fantastic, beautiful and he cared a lot about her. She felt safe in his presence and he made her smile like no other.
But telling Thord all that felt weird. She hadn’t even told Azriel about it.
“Thinking about anything special?”
Thord laid out his next card and Ashe realized she was definitely going to lose.
“He cares a lot about you,” Thord said next. “I’m just wondering if you think the two of you might have a future together.”
Ashe certainly hoped they did.
“I hope so,” she said and fought a blush. “But I haven’t been able to think much about the future lately.”
Ashe laid down her card and hoped Thord’s last card wasn’t the right one. However, they way his eyes lit up told her that she had lost.
“But you don’t feel anything particularly powerful about him?”
Ashe looked confused at him. What was he talking about?
“I’m just saying, as a mated male myself, I can see a lot of similar behaviour in Azriel’s actions towards you. I don’t know for sure of course, but if I was you, I would have thought about it. Held my eyes open and so on.”
Thord let down his last card, let out an awkward “yay” and moved to help Samli with the rest of the dished. She washed and he dried. It seemed like that was how they did it. When they finished, Thord kissed Samli’s forehead tenderly and took her hand.
“Think about it, love,” he said to Ashe before the two of them went to bed.
Was it true?
Was Azriel her mate?
On one side, she felt extremely happy. Azriel was the fae she cared the most for. She would love for him to be her mate. The thought of being able to spend eternity with him made her entire body filled with butterflies.
On the other side, what if Thord was wrong? What if Azriel wasn’t her mate and she had just gotten her hopes up?
Ashe knew one thing for sure.
It was only one way to find out.
The next morning, she would ask him. So, she spent the night preparing to either have the happiest or most heartbreaking conversation in her entire life.
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—bargained | s.r.
summary: "does that mean you're in?"
pairing: suna rintarou x reader
a/n: set before the previous installment, just to give context on why y/n changed her mind :P part of the undateable series
masterlist
You’re staring at the manager form when Osamu somehow finds you.
Refilling your water bottle, reading the basic terms and conditions of such a position in the volleyball club, you clock his shadow before you realize he’s closer than you thought.
Folding the paper, you wave it with an arched brow, and he smiles in the way a Miya twin does. A smile that spells trouble in bold, dark lines, and one you know well enough to steer away from. However, Osamu’s been taller than you since fifth grade, which has pissed you off ever since, and you know he’ll catch up to you in no time if you try to run, so you steel yourself instead.
“If you volunteer me for something without telling me, you should have at least had the guts to tell me yourself after the fact.” Slipping the water bottle into the side pocket of your bag, you tuck the manager form your schoolbag, too. “I had to hear it from Suna?”
Osamu’s eyebrows knit together. “Not my fault he volunteered. Said it was more convenient since you guys shared homeroom.”
“Right. You probably forced him to. Either way,” you continue, leaning against the wall. “I’m not doing it. I’ve never ‘managed’ something before, and it seems like a lot of work.”
“It is,” he agrees, “but you’re so capable, you were just the first person I thought of.”
A group of girls are bypassing as you snap back sardonically: “I’m touched. Is that list of people long, per se, or…”
“C’mon, kuri-kuri. You know I wouldn’ta asked if it wasn’t important! We really need someone. We didn’t think Shiri-san would bow out in her last year.”
A frown pulls at your mouth at the slump of his shoulders, and you feel a little bad for rejecting him so hastily. Tugging at the bottom of your jacket, you withhold a sigh. “Yeah, I mean, I know but it’s just a lot of commitment, and I live really far.”
“I’ll make Atsumu pay for the late train ticket.”
“You should be the one paying,” you retort, stabbing a finger into his chest. His eyebrows rise as you continue on, “And you have to come see me on the weekends at work with lunch for my break.”
“All that way? What about our Sunday practices?”
“Good thing I work on Saturdays, right?” You grin sweetly. Osamu gulps nervously. He’d forgotten how damn convincing you could be without much work. That, and the posse of girls that had somehow slowed down to a crawl walking past them whispering amongst themselves makes his face heat up.
You’re doing a good job at ignoring them, when suddenly, one of the girls says a little too loudly: “Since when was it Miya Osamu? I thought for sure it would be Tsumu-chan.”
And another replies, hushed—a warning. “Well, wasn’t there that other guy? One of the guys in the programming club. Maybe she likes nerdy types, too.”
“I’m not dating him!” Your voice cracks the air, sharp as a whip and your gaze snaps to the girl who spoke last. They all squeak in shock, and when Osamu’s gaze passes over them, they shrink even more. Annoyance burning through your blood, you push your friend away and cross your arms, brow furrowing and lips twisting into a terrible scowl. “I’m the volleyball team manager, idiots, not looking for a date. Ugh, do any of you have anything else on your mind but me?”
Grabbing Osamu’s arm, you drag him away from the water fountain and down the hall, ignoring the pleased smile growing on his face the farther you pull him along. Heading for the entrance of the school, you find your locker and let go of Osamu’s arm, kicking off your indoor shoes.
A huff escapes as you yank the locker open, and pout at the scarce space inside before groaning. If only you could bash your head in, in a totally safe and undamaging way, of course. "That's so annoying. Everything is so annoying."
“But you’re the team manager, huh?” Osamu asks slyly, leaning against the other lockers by your own. “Does that mean you’re in?”
“Nope. Buy me lunch tomorrow and I’ll think about it.”
“Ah, but that's expensive. What if I made you lunch?” he bargained. You withdraw your outdoor sneakers and laugh, irritation melting away.
For a moment, you think there could be worse people to have rumours with, and you pat his head. “Is that you volunteering? I won’t complain.”
Osamu ducks away from your touch. "No, that's—stop pettin' my head like a dog!"
You shrug, pull on your runners, and close your locker, thinking aloud. “Hm… well, I thought three handmade onigiri would do just fine." His eyebrows scrunch together, and you chain back the laugh aching to burst out your throat. He looks utterly bewildered, and you barely hold back the urge to tell him to take notes. "I want two salmon mayo and one tuna mayo for filling, delivered to my desk right at the lunch bell.” Running a thumb underneath your schoolbag to readjust it on your shoulder, you grin and flick his forehead with before skipping down the steps and heading for the front doors. “See you tomorrow, Osamu, and thanks!”
“W-wait, but that’s not what I meant!”
But, just as you did seven years ago when you made Osamu cry by pushing him off the swing after he kept yanking at your swing’s chain, you ignore him.
#fic: the undateable#suna rintarou#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou x you#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro#suna x reader#suna x you#suna x y/n#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#hq x reader#hq x you#hq#my writing
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The show seems (please correct me if I’m wrong) to have been cast pretty gender blind. Talking of gender roles in the Q&A, was it ever a possibility that January was a woman/non binary?
You are indeed (pretty much) correct! The entire show was cast gender blind aside from January*. I don’t have the exact disclaimer on me, but the casting call said something like:
“Anyone who feels comfortable playing a character who identifies as a man and uses he/him pronouns is encouraged to audition for this role.”
January was always written to be a cishet white man from England. I was very open to people who didn’t match some, or any, of those characteristics playing the part (Rhys does not in fact have a wholly English accent, but unless you’ve spent a lot of time where his family’s from you’d never be able to tell. Also, straight? My brother??), but he was written to be a really stereotypical Bad Politician From A Small English Town**.
But, you cry, that was S1 January! If he can be a little homosexual, surely he could have transed his gender?
True! Ish… January potentially being played by a trans actor was always a ‘this is a conversation to be had post-casting’ kind of thing. It would entirely depend on what the actor was comfortable with.
Say, for example, January had been played by a trans masc person. That would be a difficult thing to bring up in a later season, after January has already robbed two women of their bodily autonomy and ruined a little girl’s life… Not really the commentary I was going for! And you don’t even know what he’s going to do in S3 yet…
So in that situation I would have suggested it just doesn’t get mentioned; nothing to confirm January is a cis man, but nothing to imply he’s trans either. Of course, had someone not been comfortable with that I’d have worked with it.
If he’d been played by a trans femme/nonbinary actor the above isn’t so much an issue. Obviously I’m not saying it’s okay to imply trans women steal from other women, but it would be much easier, with the way the narrative is designed, to say, “Well, January did those things because she was written to be a cis gender man and a villain. Now that’s she’s starting to develop a sense of self she’s still a villain, just in a cool and sexy way now.” (Obviously this is paraphrasing/a joke. Cisgender man January isn’t even really a villain). And then S2/3 January could have a fun little gender arc with Noah.
But honestly, everything in this hypothetical would depend on the actor. Rhys is amazing, obviously, and while we may not be getting 🏳️⚧️Trans Rep🏳️⚧️ from this specific character I don’t feel like January having any kind of queer arc is hindered at all by him being played by a (umbrella term) bisexual actor.
Much like what I was saying about January wrt gender roles in the Q&A, Rhys likes sewing and crafts and girly pop music and kids’ cartoons and baby animals and childcare and cooking and (once every 9 months when the planets align) talking about his feelings.
He also rides a motorbike, likes to make his own electronics, and talks really, really loudly in the pub even though everyone he’s talking to is within a half metre radius. Y’know, guy stuff.
It’s great that there are so many micro labels available to people who want them, but, “I don’t really feel like a very guyish guy, and that’s because straight men have historically set the standard for what it means to be a guy. I’m still a guy, I’m just having a queer guy experience,” is still a totally valid gender take, and I feel like that’s much more where January-played-by-a-cis-man sits. So, y’know, that’s actual January that we actually have.
At least, until he commits his next crime and totally forgets about being gay.
*At this point you may be thinking, “But if January was a heterosexual man, surely his spouse would have to be played by a woman?” Mayhaps! January’s spouse would have to be played by someone who was comfortable portraying a woman for ~1 episode. But there was absolutely no reason “Al” couldn’t have transitioned in any way shape or form in S2 onwards. It just so happened L killed it ridiculously hard and also uses she/her pronouns.
**There are absolutely bad female politicians from small English towns. There are also bad politicians of colour from small English towns. And bad queer politicians, usually not from small towns but sometimes. But statistically it is cishet white men. Currently, 68% of UK mayors are men. 88% are white. 60% are white men. And that’s in the year of our lord 2025.
#ethics town#january johnson#damn Johnson made it into the tags and Jacobs didn’t I feel like I’m dead naming my son /j#always love to talk about Gay People Gender
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DONATELLA HEADCANON MASTERPOST
Some of these are more generally aquato headcanons but majority focus on donatella. In no particular order
This is LONG sorry
Dona’s mother was a former ballerina who raised her to do ballet her whole life. Dona hated ballet but she was REALLY good at it and it made her mother happy so she did it until she reached a breaking point and ran away to join the circus
Donatella and Augustus got married and had kids right out the gate when they were in their late teens (18 and 17 as per the cut line from the game but probably 19 18 by the time the kids were born. Dion and Frazie are twins to me) and it was a bit of a shotgun wedding but it all worked out for them. Becoming parents so young definitely led to a lot of the poor parenting choices they made because they were NOT mature enough to be doing all that
Raz was a difficult pregnancy and was born premature which did not help Dona’s neuroticism about the safety of her children. She babies him extra hard because she’s still convinced he may drop dead at any moment despite that not being probable anymore
Dion is probably the closest to her, he’s a total mama’s boy to the point where he’s picked up a lot of her mannerisms. He’s always the first to volunteer to help her and he can and will snitch on his siblings to her if they’re getting on his nerves. Raz being babied by Dona is sometimes read as favoritism from Dion (it’s not of course) so that’s a source of tension between the brothers
Dona and Frazie used to be close when Frazie was younger but now that she’s a teenager she doesn’t really see eye to eye with her mom anymore and sometimes pushes back which frustrates Dona. I don’t think this is how it will be forever for them but it definitely will be for the rest of Frazies teen years at least
Donatella is tala’s idol. She wants to be just like her when she grows up. Dona loves dressing her up and doing her hair in fun hairstyles and tala is her only child who really enjoys dressing up so they bond over that a lot. Dona’s special nickname for her is principessa
Augustus was a part of a larger circus that travelled Europe when Donatella met him and joined the circus. A lot of the members of that circus were from the Grulovian National Circus which obviously disbanded after Grulovia fell. They stayed with this circus until just after Raz was born when there was an incident that involved Augustus almost drowning (and how he got that scar) and they decided they needed to move their family away from a circus that included psychics and water acts. They chose to go to America after that
Donatella and Augustus did used to have wedding bands but they sold them in order to have enough money to move to America
Donatella can cook well but she doesn’t like cooking. Augustus likes cooking more so he usually cooks but they do switch off at times since their cooking is so different and sometimes the kids want Italian food
Donatella LOVES ABBA
Dona’s biggest issue with her upbringing was that her mother was never affectionate and she felt like she had to fight for her love. She overcorrects with her own parenting and is very affectionate with her own children and tells them how much she loves them often but she mistakenly thinks this makes up for everything else
Dona’s main act she was known for in the circus was walking the tightrope en pointe. After her pointe shoes finally fell apart entirely she bought a pair of boots and decided to finally move on from incorporating ballet into her acrobatics and escape her past entirely. She still does it on special occasions, however
Donatella didn’t really have much of an opinion on psychics before she met Augustus. She grew to hate them after he told her about the curse, and then she picked up more from the psychic hating acrobat culture from the circus since there was a well established rivalry between the two groups
Dona is very much a diva when it comes to appearance but since they don’t exactly have a diva budget she has to go about this in frugal ways. She just washes and reuses her false eyelashes when they get too caked with eyelash glue (which is why they’re a little wonky) and she’s been using the same perfume for a decade that she just “waters down” (it’s just vaguely scented water atp but it’s the thought that counts for her. Perfume is too expensive to justify buying a new one)
She started wearing false eyelashes when she joined the circus because she was inspired by the eyelashes that her favorite actress Gloria Von Gouten wore. In general she got a lot crazier with her hair and makeup as soon as she joined the circus because her mother wasn’t around to criticize her anymore
She’s the one who cuts everyone’s hair, which is also why most of the Aquatos have long hair because she’s no hairdresser. She’s good at Augustus’ haircut because she’s done it so many times at this point but any time her kids want her to do something new it’s met by much moaning and groaning from her so they don’t really ask much
She IS a serial guilt tripper but on normal days when she’s not in a terrible mood she doesn’t do that nearly as much as she does in the game. She can be very pleasant at times!
Her biggest issue with her family is when she feels like she’s not being listened to or is being walked all over and that’s when she starts getting mean
Queepie was an oopsie baby. They meant to stop at 4 kids
Nona does most of the costume repairs since she’s the best at sewing but Dona generally does larger alterations because she’s got an eye for fashion and she also wants to make sure the family is putting their best foot forward despite wearing rags. The reason Augustus suddenly has a sash in the second game when he didn’t in the first is because Donatella made him wear it to cover up the unsightly repair seam on his shirt
#some of these are covered pretty heavily in my fanfic but not everyone has read my fanfic so#there are more than this but I’m stopping here for now
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like, I still think it’s sort of weird that Shonda Rhimes bought the rights to the Bridgerton novels, did a mediocre job at adapting the material and also kinda ruined one of the most popular pairings from the books in the process, and then proceeded to hyperfixate on her own OC to the point of creating a spin-off in which the central romance is about two members of a very white, slave-owning, racist and imperialist institution that could only maintain power through the exploitation of people of color all over the world, but now the protagonist is a black woman who’s about to end racism in 1700s Great Britain through the power of Love
#i just… genuinely think it’s weird is all#like she totally didn’t have to do any of that#she could’ve easily pulled a still star crossed and say ‘this is the world; it is diverse; deal with it’#and it totally would’ve worked#but now shonda is explicitly asking me to think of the implications so i AM thinking of the implications#and the implications are HORRIBLE#you mean to tell me one of the richest and most influential women of the time is sitting on her ass obsessing over gossip#while thousands of black people are being kidnapped and sold as slaves in america#what is going on in the whole continent of africa??? or in countries like india or china???#is charlotte like ‘oh well those poor people of africa sure have it rough and my kingdom is directly reaping the benefits of that oppression#but also my hubby just gave a bunch of non-white people from london noble titles#so that’s it <3 systemic racism is over <33#now back to lady whistledown’#bc that would make her… y’know… a shitty person….#and before anyone goes ‘it’s fiction it’s not that serious’#i know but shonda IS directly asking me to think about it with this show so! i! will!#anyways i’ll still watch the whole thing because i have no backbone whatsoever but…. i will have thoughts about it#also for anyone wondering the pairing that was ruined is obviously polin#and kanthony to an extent which is criminal if you ask me#i mean rmb is still my favorite jq book so i’m still somewhat looking forward seeing season 3#but like. penelope. look how they massacred my girl#…..oh wow i went overboard with the tags. but i’m right#queen charlotte#bridgerton#queen charlotte a bridgerton story#bridgerton books#julia quinn#stfu pam
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.Tip: always kiss your LI after big boss fights to receive HP boosts.
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#davrin#dav#dragon age the veilguard#datv#rook#dav rook#davrook#davrin x rook#rook x davrin#Farid Thorne#sketch#blood#.also off topic i didn’t actually have any boss music for the final boss and idk if that was a glitch or not.#.also mad u cannot kiss ur LI whenever you want >:(.#.i actually love Grier so much I cannot play as anyone else now.#.hes canon he’s slept with my HoF and Zevran he’s related to Gaspard’s lover he has nine kids he doesn’t even know who his dad is.#.he drinks and smokes and smoulders and he designs traps and solves puzzles for fun he drinks hot chocolate and will not share his sweets.#.also off topic again not being a LoF is good now bc Isabela is like -oh hello ;)- like yes girl YES GIRL!!!.#.but I do HC that she knows Grier from when he was a raider and they totally hated each other into bed :)c.
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Jackie realizing she’s gonna have to take care of shauna and jeff’s ghost baby
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#🐇#yellowjackets#truly it’s so interesting to me how much better this season is than the first that literally never happens for me#the current timeline is finally getting interesting. Jeff is still the best part#love how fast misty took to being a cult that is so her™️#Jackie liking poppies is interesting to me both in the Jackie is gay camp and also you know the whole thing with wizard oz and her death#the ending was so fucking depressing I need a nap now#like I’m so happy they didn’t eat the baby that would have been so incredibly cheap but glad to finally have answers#like do we think shauna was dreaming or had she temporarily crossed over because like where was Jackie and the French dude#I’d say it would make sense that Lottie could be there somehow#idk it reminded me a lot of Jackie’s death of course so I have many questions#I will say the cop story line is pretty stupid like no fucking way is any of this legal and also let’s kill that creep cop shauna#I will help you girl I will drive the get away car#I was also like wondering awhile ago if Lottie’a camp is near where the plane crash was#and my best friend and I were like no there’s no way and then they tell us it’s in New York so like possibly close to the boarder?#I tried looking up cherry hill but I couldn’t find anything idk it’s probably totally unlikely and they just also happen to be in the woods#I didn’t get a preview for next week is there a preview? idk#my complaint this week is where is Jackie lmfao where is her ghost why wasn’t she in sex ed give me something I’m not ready to move on!!!!
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an unnecessary reminder i will go to bat any day of the week for james sunderland.
#ooc. o kaptain.#[listen. i know he can be interpreted a lot of ways. i know he’s a useless weird apathetic shitty cis white man. i know he’s weird and sad.#and do I hate characters like james usually? oh absolutely. but the man has potential to not be terrible and it’s all there in his source#material. plus the weird implication i always feel when we know his dad owns the apartment building in silent hill 4 and ‘his son and#daughter in law disappeared in sh’ which aligns with the in water ending. and confirms the body in the car. but my other vibe is… where was#anyone helping james while Mary was sick…? he was super young and so was she. was he just literally taking on this terminal illness on his#own without any real support? that’s the implication considering this trauma wouldn’t have scarred him to this degree if he HAD a support#system during Mary’s illness. the man was literaly left to deal with the love of his life PROBABLY newly married slowly dying. and totally#unprepared he tried to do the best he could with a horrible situation. Mary was the victim here unquestionably — he fucking killed her— but#what the fuck kind of neglect has to go into a situation to a level so prolonged that he cracks and does it? how many people DIDNT help him#OR Mary during her illness? how many people just didn’t care? deciding ‘James is bad and he did it because he’s selfish and terrible’ isn’t#realistic. and also no. he didn’t do it because he couldn’t have sex with her anymore we get it blah blah pyramid head. if you take it THAT#straightforward idk what to tell you. nothing is. and this game is only more complex the older i get.]
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cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#I mean finds it so dead#I know that that isn’t why people like it. I know that it’s because they are both beautiful and it’s easy to supply the love and warmth#and/or they have some cute moments because the actors have a very real appeal!!!! but the actual show itself and writing as a story#isn’t creating any of that love or celebrating#(I’m so sorry I will stop) (I just reflect on Bridgerton so much because of my teaching and/or HOW I teach)#because my students love it/want to love it and I totally understand!!!!#I totally understand why people want to love it and/or do#but I always want to tell people who do that most of the time they are filling in blanks in the story that aren’t there#with their own hearts! and good will#the actual story sucks so bad#I had a girl come up to me after class and she was like ‘Miss K. my boyfriend wants to watch Bridgerton with me and I know you hate it’#‘could you tell me again why’ and I spoke on it#and I could tell she didn’t understand and tbh I wasn’t specific enough#because I hadn’t seen it! I’m glad I’ve now sort of seen enough#because I can be specific enough about it (and will be next year)#and I just I have to tear it apart in part so that I can redirect my students to the art that matters and will give them something so real#ANYWAY.#I am just talking.
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Sometimes I look back this past friendship and I’m like “holy shit were they flirting with me?? That’s gotta haunt them at night cause I was so stupid—oh my god was I being a dick?? Oh Jesus I definitely was, they probably thought I was playing dumb oh fuck they think I’m an asshole”
#like I didn’t like her back I’m aroace#but I was so DISMISSIVE OMG IM AN ASSHOLE#she asked me if what we were doing was okay and my ass said ‘well duh I do this with all my friends it’s totally normal’#oh my fucking godddd#I go back and forth on whether or not I think they liked me#cuz like I don’t KNOW how ppl act when they like something#even if I did that bitch wasn’t normal 😭#it doesn’t even matter anymore it’s been a LONG time and she doesn’t even live here anymore but this will haunt ME forever#or what about this other girl that leaned in and smelled my hair and told me I smelled nice#what the hell was that about??????#if she was flirting then me saying ‘no I don’t. my shampoos unscented’ was probably humiliating#omg I need a damn filter#thank god I don’t like people clearly I wouldn’t have any game
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i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much
#marzi speaks#it’s worse with my brother but he’s doing more to actively work on improving that#my dad however has very subtle internalized ableism that i don’t think he recognizes is there#which is. fun#like earlier. either last night or this morning i don’t remember#i was talking to him about how while ideologically i have nothing against accepting needing help and things like that#in practice it’s very challenging to adjust to being disabled even temporarily. and that if i do end up with a diagnosis that’s gonna be#a lot to handle. both mentally and just with the lifestyle changes i’ll have to make#and he makes a bit of a face and goes ‘i wouldn’t quite call you disabled. i’d just say ‘ill’’#and i just sort of look at him. and i blink. and i go ‘i am physically Un-Able to do things i am normally able to do’#‘i can’t walk long distances at all. i can’t sit in chairs for too long without causing pain’#‘i’ve spent the last 24 hours staring longingly at my computer because i want to draw but am currently Not Able To’#he didn’t argue with me but i can tell he was still unnerved by the idea of picturing his daughter as disabled#also like . illness and disability are not mutually exclusive? several disabilities are or involve chronic illness#i shouldn’t be surprised though. i mentioned considering starting lexapro#and he went on his ‘you’re an adult and it’s your choice in the end but i wouldn’t recommend it’ spiel#(he’s anti-psychiatry bc he doesn’t like the idea of breaking the brain down into smth so purely physical)#(and also doesn’t like the idea of someone being dependent on pills their whole life)#(which i’m giving him some slack on rn bc he is a just-got-clean recovering opoid addict. so)#(btw before any of you say SHIT abt my dad he took his pills legally prescribed for chronic pain and did not abuse them)#(and even if he DID that would give nobody a right to make a moral judgement on him. ok cool)#i then reminded him that my mom takes anti-anxiety meds and they really really helped her#and he just goes ‘true.’ and moves on#king u got some shit to unpack#it’s fine if u didn’t want to start antidepressants when it was recommended to you meds aren’t for everyone#but like come on now. u don’t gotta be so fundamentally against it when literally ur own wife who you adore takes psych meds#anywho my mom handled me making the disability comment much better. she was basically just like ‘ur fear is totally understandable’#‘u have a good support system we’ll help you through it’#which. thanks mom 👍 that was very kind of her to say
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Okay after freaking out about alhaitham it’s time to be neurotic again that girl is freaking me out sm :D
#like bro I don’t understand wallah I don’t#I’m so confused and it’s literally ruining everything#dora daily#AND I NEVER SAY WALLAH ABOUT ANYTHING THIS IS HOW BAD ITS RUINING ME AAAAAAH#on one hand she’s ignoring me on the other she isn’t and she genuinely doesn’t see any of my posts#on the other she just forgot#ALL OF WHICH ARE SHIT OPTIONS#IT ISNT FAIR#i even tried liking her posts to show her yo I’m alive in case she didn’t see#I TRIED SENDING HER AN ASK ABOUT SOMETHING WEEKS AGO AND SHE DIDNT REPLY#I am trying so freaking hard and it is not working#and it’s fucking me up because what the fuck did I even do man#I didn’t do anything different#why do people ALWAYS do this I don’t fucking get it#it would’ve been much kinder if she just dropped me from the beginning when I was so hesitant with her#before I got so attached because what she’s doing right now is literally not only torture but so incredibly cruel#like I was getting obsessed with this one girl at work once but she ghosted me relatively early on in the very beginning stages of my#obsession coming into fruition and guess what IM TOTALLY FINE WITH IT NOW#BUT SHE LET THE RELATIONSHIP DEVELOP FOR MONTHS#then introduced a third party then now she doesn’t even acknowledge me#she is making me sewerslidal and it’s literally ruining everything#any time I would try to study I think of her and it freaks me out#every time I try to focus I think of her and it freaks me out#even when I go to sleep bro#like 8 ish weeks ago or so it literally was making me so messed up that if I hadn’t gone outside for a necessary out of uni task then my dad#taking me sight seeing in said area I genuinely don’t know what would have happened#because the level of rage I felt or whatever it was#was the most insane form of genuine torture ever#THIS WHOLE POST SEEMS NEUROTIC AND I’m just like I don’t even know anymore man#but what do I even do atp like bro
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I ran this morning AND wrote some AND made art and I’m so proud of me
#didn’t get any of my actual office work done oopsies#but in my defense it’s a Friday and also I did allot time for it I just ended up not doing it#anyways still proud of me!!! guys art is so so important and I know that and I preach that but I haven’t been doing it#and I just picked up a blank sheet of paper and did it#and is it good or anatomically correct? no but it was so FUN#and I’ve been working thought Tim Clare’s writing stuff and it’s been GOOD#I like this new series of exercises a lot better than the couch to 80k#they’re. the same honestly and I don’t actually care about his commentary all that much#maybe I’m just more present or more invested in them#I only ran for 15. min and then I had to call my brother to pick me up because the heat was gonna make me pass out :/#but also I TRIED#I fucking tried today#also did u know running is utterly miserable.#runners high is def a thing#felt amazing afterward#but holy shit it’s awful in the moment#my roommate ran a 25k recently and I talked to her about it and she said it never gets better#which is. not very encouraging#but also I Want To run as much of this 5k as I can#maybe I’ll be dead after but it’s fine I have a couple days to recuperate before the eclipse#WHICH IM ALSO EXCITED SBOIT. I’ve never seen a total eclipse before#goddamit my brain jumped to too many places#delete later#anyways. if u didn’t u should acknowledge ur accomplishments today#even if they didn’t feel like much#now I’m gonna go read a 115k fanfic that’s gonna wreck me#that’s my treat to me#I HAVE ACTUAL BOOKS TO FINISH. but NO. THIS is how I’m spending my time. and it’s fine I’m valid#I’ve been talking to all the lesbians about running too#and they’ve been so encouraging too!! I love my coworkers and very distantly related coworkers sm
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#not really a complaint just me musing#met up with some friends to go shopping at the Amish stores (huzzah bulk foods!)#they’re both about my mom’s age so they do get kind of motherly at times#and for some reason dating and marriage in regards to me came up#why is it that older Christian women in particular like to console single Christian women about being single?#it’s like an impulse#I didn’t even say anything and the one friend went ‘you’ll get there eventually’ or something (but it didn’t sound that condescending lol)#like ‘don’t worry you have time you’ll meet someone’#and when I protested that no I was like…totally cool with my life and not actively searching she doubled down#in the nicest way possible and it’s nothing against her or any of the women who do it#and yes it is frustrating especially for the young women around me who actively WANT to get married#and I get it can worry the folks in our parents’ generation#but I’m almost 30#I don’t need empty reassurances#I appreciate it but I personally don’t need to be told I’m not broken#thankfully I’ve worked through all of those issues and I’m at peace with it#sure if I met the right guy I’d be opening to pursuing a relationship#but I think it’s so important to be comfortable with yourself#to understand your own mind and heart#to know how to be alone#I don’t think it’s necessarily natural and it’s not good to ALWAYS be alone#and modern culture can be isolating so you gotta watch that#but solitude is not bad#and I’m old enough to understand not everyone gets married#don’t try to tell me I’ll meet someone some day#I may not#I dunno maybe I’m old enough to write a few paragraphs to the singles#it ain’t a season guys it’s…something else altogether#and you have to live either way#I dunno she was nice about it but every time! every time
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