#which I used to always do it before work last time I had these hours and it would be HITTIN
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▶ BOUNDARIES — the day when Suguru entered the shower with you.
contents: college!au, roommates — 1,3k words
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
“Don’t freak out.”
You blame it on the water. Hot, steamy and falling right onto your head, your reaching up face and the hum of it filling your ears. A monotone murmur of drops pitter-pattering and bouncing off your exposed skin — it made you disconnect. A moment of relaxation, and it worked wonders to your body, your tensed up muscles, your clattered thoughts. It quieted you down, made your breath slower, soothed the hectic beat of your heart — effect of an unpleasant confrontation with your classmate in the morning. A girl upset and nervous, jealous and heated, took it all out on you and you couldn’t do nothing but take it. Wasn’t the first time, certainly not the last as well and over the years you grew to tolerate this sort of events as they were inevitable, they came along the very close friendship you shared with your boys. It’s fine, you always tell them and it is, in fact, fine, but the attack you endured just two hours before was oddly, unnecessarily personal and it stung.
You took it under the shower, making use of the empty apartment — both Satoru and Suguru being out for classes and practice — and just enjoying the sizzling hot water warming your skin. It was comforting, meditative almost, and nearly as soothing as a cuddle session. It felt good. So very good that when the environment changed suddenly, your heart dropped to your stomach.
“Suguru?” Your head snapped to the side, your entire body flinched in shock as the matted glass of the shower doors moved and you caught a frame twice your size entering the tight area of the stall. The sight of your roommate somewhat calmed you down. “What is happening?”
“I’m sorry sweets, I really am, but I called you, knocked, but you didn’t hear and I really need to wash up quick and run,” your friend explained, his tone more frantic than you’re used to and for few moments you watched him, frozen. He was already lathering shower gel over his body. Intense scent of skincare filled in the steamy air with a mixture of fresh seagrass and coconut, and soon you snapped out of the haze.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear,” you said dumbly, still very much confused, confirming his words and shifting a little closer to the wall, making more space for him.
It was awkward — it should be — but somehow, you felt at ease with him there. It was the very first time you saw him fully naked, and vice versa, but Suguru was a safe space and besides a heat that creeped right up your cheeks, that surely got lost in the flush you already had from the hot stream of water, you weren’t too worried. Tearing your eyes off his muscular, strong built — a sculpture carved out of the finest marble — proved itself to be the most difficult as you handed him the showerhead.
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said, already washing off the fluff and bubbles of his shower gel. “They moved the lecture for earlier, I had to cut my training short and I just couldn’t go all sweaty. I’m really sorry sweets, I’ll apologize properly later, okay?”
“It’s all fine. Good luck, Sug,” you offered him a soft smile and took the sprayer back as the man moved to exit. Before he left completely, and despite the rush he was in, he managed to spare a second to press a tender kiss to your temple.
It wouldn’t be Suguru if he didn’t make time to smother you with love.
“You’re gorgeous by the way. See ya later!” And he was gone, just like that, leaving you flushed and so very confused, in a cloud of heated condensation and empty cage of tiles.
* * *
Few hours passed until the lonely, quiet apartment filled up with the playful banter that seems to never end whenever your roommates are together — which is a lot. You were already in bed, nuzzled against the pillows and wrapped in blankets. Tired. You were so tired after that day, the few classes you had to attend to after the shower sucked the life out of you. It piled up — the tension between you and your classmate, the unannounced test from one of the subjects you don’t particularly like nor study for, the rain that caught you in the middle of your relatively short way home from the college and the absurdly microscopic amount of cheese in the absurdly overpriced cheese sandwich you bought in a rush. Should’ve taken the ham.
But the day was soon over and it’s a matter of minutes now until you’ll be able to truly rest in a safe and moderately suffocating embrace of long limbs and warm bodies. The sleeping dilemma that at first seemed to be the greatest worry about the apartment, now was your favorite aspect of it — you often find yourself longing for the late night hours, especially on days like this one. You like the everlasting amount of heat that your friends produced and even though you were often trapped or squished, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Hey,” a soft, honey-like tone reached your ears and forced you to lift up the heavy eyelids. You smiled seeing Suguru’s gorgeous features and feeling his fingers along your cheekbone. “Are you angry at me?”
“Huh? Why?” You asked, moving towards him, lifting your head just slightly to study him more. He looked troubled, worried and you couldn’t place it. What was the reason?
“For the shower situation from earlier?”
“Oh… no, god, absolutely not,” you shook your head and dropped the weight of it back onto the pillowy clouds. “I don’t care if you see me naked, don’t worry about it.”
“Either way, I bought you the chocolate you like so much.”
Chocolate.
“The diabetic bomb?”
“Yeah, that one,” the boy smiled and showed you the gift. A bar of the most divine chocolate you’ve ever eaten — expensive too — filled with sinfully decadent, luscious coconut mousse and little pieces of gooey caramel chunks. A diabetic bomb, as Suguru always mocks it, because in a scale from zero to ten, its sweetness is easily a sixteen.
Suguru ripped the package open and broke off a piece, putting it into your waiting mouth and you moaned. It was sublime, it was posh and sensual. It could easily be an aphrodisiac. A heaven, melting slowly on your tongue, spreading its glory across your very soul and you melted with it. It felt like a sin, it felt wrong and so, so right.
“You didn’t need to buy me anything, Sug,” you spoke finally, once your senses came back from the trip of pure, primal pleasure. “But I do appreciate it even though I should be the one to apologize. I didn’t hear you.”
“You know that I wouldn’t push your boundaries like that if it wasn’t so very urgent.”
“I know and also, I told you already, I don’t care about any of you seeing me naked,” you said it again, reaching your hand to brush a piece of his bangs away from his eyes. He smiled and for a moment his eyes drifted away and you kind of knew what to expect.
“Who’s naked?” Satoru’s cheerfully cocky voice cut through the gentle atmosphere like a lovable razor and you felt the bed yielding underneath his weight as he climbed on and dropped right behind you. His body pressed tightly to your backside, his arm wrapped securely around your blanket-wrapped form and he pulled you towards himself, leaning his head over your shoulder and smothering your cheek with kisses. Affectionate. Suffocating. “I heard our roomie had a bad day, huh?”
“It’s fine now,” you chuckled, reaching up and ruffling his white, short hair, messing it up even more than it already was.
“Our poor little mochi, it’s alright now,” he cooed, teasingly sweet and then, in his very usual behavior, he tried to bite your cheek but you were quicker, stuffing his open mouth with a piece of chocolate. Suguru managed to roll his eyes and left you unattended with a bar of divine candy and your gluttonous friend. “Oh my god that is good.”
Safe to say, the chocolate didn’t stand a chance against you and Satoru.
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Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)
Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.
[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]
Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)
Word Count: 1650
Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)
Masterlist
There was something wrong with your soulmate.
Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.
“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.
“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”
“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”
“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”
“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”
“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”
Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”
“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”
“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”
“Since we were eight?”
“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”
You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”
“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”
She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.
“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.
“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”
“Real romantic, dude.”
“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”
“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”
“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”
“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”
“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”
“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”
“Ten-thirty-ish?”
“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”
“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”
“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”
“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”
“I’m not buying you lunch.”
“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.
Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”
“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”
“Always. Mine or yours?”
You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.
So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.
“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”
You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”
She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”
“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”
“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”
You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”
“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”
You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”
She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”
“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”
“Your soulmate is wounded.”
“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”
She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”
“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”
“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”
“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”
You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”
Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”
“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”
“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”
“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”
“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”
“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”
Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”
You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”
“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”
“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”
Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”
“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”
“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”
“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”
“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”
You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”
“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”
“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”
“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.
You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”
“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.
“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”
“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”
“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”
You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.
(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.04.24)
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 x reader#formula one fanfiction
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Moonburn
Prologue
Two of Swords, Reversed: Delays, indecisiveness, extreme dread, anxiety, and stress.
Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC
Authors Note: Hello!!! This is the start of Jake’s story! I hope y’all like it as much as I do. His side of the story has been in my mind the whole time I’ve been writing ISHIYE and I’ve been itching to share it with you. This is only the prologue but I promise there’s much more to come! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ❤️
*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.
Word Count: 3,845
Warnings: Brief violence, descriptions of blood, that’s about it for now.
He wasn’t even supposed to be in Tucson, but a blown motor had him stuck there for God-knows how long. The shop he towed his car to didn’t give him much of a time frame, just that they would call him whenever it was fixed. In the meantime, Jake Kiszka had settled in a cheap motel. Well, not extremely cheap, but it was comfortable enough that he knew wouldn’t get scabies from sleeping there.
Nevertheless, he took this as an opportunity to take in the sights of the Grand Canyon state, at the very least Pima county. The sights in question were any local Nests that he could find and snuff out any Undead that were loitering around places they shouldn’t.
The last three days (or nights depending on what species you were), he had been tracking a small group of them that were dumb enough to hang around the same places in the city. Vamps were always easy to spot. Their attempts to blend in with humans were awkward and stilted. Like aliens who had landed on earth the day before and had never seen a human before. That was also how you knew you were dealing with one of the young, and dumb, ones. The older the Vamp was the easier it was for them to blend in. If they’re smart enough to survive past fifty years or so, they usually start adapting to whatever environment they’re in.
It was one of those Vampire details that confused Jake as a kid. How did they forget their humanity so fast? You’re human one day and the next night you’re a blood sucking monster, his dad would tell him. But the idea that it only took a few hours to forget whatever life you had before was almost fascinating to him.
He was always taught that the new ones were practically feral and sloppy, which was how they got picked off so easily. They’d leave bodies behind, risking exposure to the humans who walked around in pure ignorance to the creatures that walked among them.
Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d catch them before they even claimed their victims. Skulking around in the dark trying to remain unseen but all of their movements looked the same, at least to Jake, which was why he was always able to figure them out faster than his siblings. He was the quiet observant one, always having his eyes on a swivel. His twin was the social one. He could talk his way into any place or establishment that he wasn’t supposed to be in, and he had a particular knack for being able to build a rapport with some of the Vamps they’d be tracking.
It worked even better when they were in parts of the country where the only thing anyone knew of them was their last name, and the weight it carried. Knowing their name was one thing, but knowing their faces was another, and they used that to their advantage. It was also well known that they were identical, but over the years their personal aesthetics had skewed so hard in the opposite directions that they’d have to be side by side to truly see it. Though sometimes the confusion as to who was who worked in their favor.
Jake turned his attention to the horizon from inside the car. Due to a low inventory from a week full of fender benders the rental place only had a Toyota Corolla available on the lot. A silver Corolla from 2006, to be exact. Jake had stared at it for nearly five minutes behind his dark sunglasses, as if he could turn it into literally anything else with his mind. But when the rental agent informed him of the only other option, a burgundy minivan, the hunter agreed and signed the papers for the car through gritted teeth.
There he was, ridding the earth of Hell-borne filth in a clunker with hubcaps.
The sun was peeking over the horizon; the sky turning different shades of pink, yellow. and blue. Jake had a strict rule to not move in on a target until the sun was fully up and visible. “Your shadow is your friend, and your clock no matter what,” his dad would tell him. A hunter never wanted to risk a Vamp having the home field advantage that was the night. Even overcast days were iffy at times.
Once a Vampire laid their head down they, as obvious and cliched it sounded, slept like the dead they were. It was some biological failsafe to protect their species from accidental sunlight exposure. Or at least that's what his walking-encyclopedia of a little brother reminded him along with other scientific facts about the species.
He was parked on the side of the road a blocks-length away from the house he was watching. Vamps were known for their practicality when it came to their Nests. They liked invading houses and squatting in them after they made the residents their evening meal. This particular house was by its lonesome on this road, the nearest house was almost two miles away, which Jake didn’t mind because his plan for the four Vampires he had tracked to this location would be fucking cake.
At last, the sun shined its beautiful rays, warming up the world and preparing it for the day. Jake could almost hear the joke his twin would’ve made about it being a “dry heat” had he been there. His right hand reached to the passenger seat for his crossbow, lifting it slowly with reverence. He kept his gaze fixed on the house as he carefully opened the driver’s side door. He didn’t shut it all the way, just enough to make that first little click in the frame.
As he approached the house he looked at all the windows to see which ones were covered up, a clue as to where in the house they were sleeping. He walked the perimeter a couple of times, going slow to make sure he didn’t miss anything and to let the sun rise even higher.
Rounding the back of the house, Jake went up to the back door. He reached out and gently twisted the doorknob, and it fully turned without protest.
They really were stupid, he thought to himself.
The revelation that the door was unlocked let him know that they were also over confident that they’d be safe during the day time. Jake couldn’t wait to prove them wrong.
He walked into what was the kitchen, before it had been ransacked by the real intruders sleeping elsewhere. Multiple cabinets were flung open, their contents strewn everywhere on counters and the floors. Smears of blood decorated the surfaces and the floors, streaked with what had to be fingerprints.
Going from room to room, he saw similar scenes around the house. He still hadn’t located what he was there for but there was one bedroom at the far end of the house left. The door was slightly ajar, and from his spot in the hallway he could see a window with the curtains firmly drawn. Bingo. They were all in there, soundly asleep. A classic, “shooting fish in a barrel” situation.
Carefully he opened the door further and peaked around the room. This had obviously been the primary bedroom, with a sizable king size bed against the far wall, with two Vamps sprawled out on the duvet, with a third curled up on the carpet at the foot of the bed.
The hunter silently aimed the crossbow at the one on the floor, directly at its chest. At this point it was muscle memory, his finger squeezed around the trigger automatically, shooting the stake right into the Vampire’s heart. His eyes flew open in surprise, but it was too late, the color drained from his skin and it shrunk back against his bones. The usual yellow cast bled into his eyes, and as a final signal that all too familiar death rattle bubbled up from his mouth, a little too loudly for Jake.
At the sound the female Vamp on the bed sat straight up, looking directly at Jake.
“You bastard,” she hissed as she slapped the male Vamp next to her awake. She lunged at Jake knocking the crossbow out of his hands as he tried to shove her off of him. The two rolled around on the floor, battling for control. The hunter managed to get on top of her, straddling her waist as he quickly grabbed a stake from inside his jacket with one hand, and used the other to try to control her hands and keep her pinned down. His reflexes worked perfectly and he was able to shove her arms out of the way fast enough to drive the stake into her chest in a flash. Like the other Vamp before her, she withered in front of his eyes.
Just as her death rattle completed the process the other male Vamp jumped on Jake’s back, straining his neck to nip at Jake’s flesh with his fangs. The hunter nearly growled as he twisted his body to fling the Vamp off of him. He didn’t go very far, but it was enough for Jake to get on his feet and grab another stake from his jacket. The Vamp stood up and lunged at Jake again, this time shoving him against the nearest wall. Jake winced as he was forced backwards and felt the drywall crack; the breath nearly knocked out of him. The stake was pinned between the two, curled in his fist and pointed down at the floor in a useless position.
Jake looked over the feral Vamps shoulder, and realized he was close enough to the corner of the room that he could potentially gain control. With another growl, he used all of his strength to push him away and into the other wall. The Vamp's head bounced back against the wall, and in the nanosecond of delirium Jake was able to tilt his other hand up and ram the stake into the remaining Vamp, directly next to his sternum.
The Vamp sagged against the wall as whatever “life” he had faded away. Jake let him go completely and didn’t care where he landed on the floor. He stepped back and didn’t let his guard down until he was sure they were the only creatures in the house. He ran a hand through his messy hair, wincing when his fingers hit a few tangles and pulled at his scalp. Instead of fighting through them to the ends of his hair, he pulled it back, wanting the feeling to stop instantly. A brief flashback of dirty gnarled fingers twisting into his hair and yanking upwards flashed before his mind’s eye and he shook his head to rid himself of the memory and rubbed his hands quickly over his face.
Jake turned back to his crossbow and strapped it on his back. Now the fun part was about to begin. He looked down at the nearest corpse, the one he had just killed against the wall, and grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging him through the room. He flung the back door open once he got to it, and heaved the Vamp outside and into the sun. The corpse started to sizzle and burn before it hit the dirt. One down, two the go.
He repeated the process until all three were piled on top of each other outside, burning through their clothes and turning their bodies to ashes. As Jake watched the flames, he reached into his jacket again, this time for the celebratory cigar he always brought with him on Nest raids. He brought it to his lips and leaned forward, lighting it using the flames of his latest bounty.
He stood there, and the fire reflected off his dark sunglasses. He took long and slow drags of the cigar, satisfied with his work that morning. For a brief moment he wished his twin had been with him. He didn’t mind doing things on his own, but it always felt a little sweeter to have Josh standing next to him.
Soon enough the three Vampire’s were nothing more than a pile of ashes. Jake found a shovel in the yard, and used it to dig a shallow pit to dump the ashes into. It wasn’t to “bury” them, no, there was no honor in this. Instead it was just a quicker way to quite literally cover up his tracks.
As he drove back to the motel, he couldn’t wait to sleep the day away, satisfied that there were three less bloodsuckers walking around.
~!~
A few days later, he found himself in front of a dive bar just outside of town. The Tipsy Tumbleweed stood before him, its red lighted sign blazed into the dark of the parking lot. A few of the letters blinked, indicating some of the bulbs were on their last legs.
The heels of his boots clacked against the wooden floor inside, and the idle chatter amongst other patrons met his ears. He loved a good bar like this. Understated, knew exactly what it was, and didn’t try to be anything more. The walls were covered in various purple neon signs, the biggest one was on the wall behind the bar itself, with large letters spelling out: Sinners Welcome. Yeah, he was going to enjoy himself tonight.
Just as he sat on an empty barstool, a loud and melodious laugh floated through the air behind him. He nearly broke his neck to look at the source, and that was when he saw…her.
Her back was to him, her dark jeans and black t-shirt wrapped around her curves beautifully, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail but was long enough that the ends fell between her shoulder blades. She was standing in front of one of the booths against the far wall, chatting with the two people who sat on either side.
He couldn’t see her face yet, and everything in his body told him to sit fucking still so he could possibly get a glimpse of it. He barely registered the young voice of the bartender asking him for his order. He kept his eyes set on the mysterious woman while he quickly mumbled something about a whiskey. He wasn’t normally that rude but as the bartender went off to make his drink she finally turned around and started walking towards him. Her large hazel eyes scanned the room as she walked and she waved at one of the tables, telling who-ever-the-fuck hi. The same dark hair framed her face in some loose layers and when she flashed a smile at someone else, Jake nearly fell off the stool. He suddenly felt like he was back in sixth grade, when Abbie Willis picked him for her kickball team in P.E. and he tripped over absolutely nothing while walking over to her. Josh never let him live that down.
For a moment, Jake thought she was walking towards him, but she breezed right past him to exit through the Employees Only door. He turned on the stool to face the bar, hoping to god that the heat in his face wasn’t obvious. Instead, he made the most awkward eye contact with the bartender who was placing his drink in front of him. She was a tiny thing, definitely shorter than him with sharp cheekbones and curious round eyes. She couldn’t have been older than 21.
“Umm…thanks,” he said, trying his best to recover from whatever that was.
“You're welcome, I’m Stacey if you need anything else,” she said brightly before turning to walk to the far end of the bar, where another man was sitting at the corner.
Jake’s eyes followed her and silently observed that side of the bar, taking in everything. Part of him wanted to turn around and watch that Employee door in hopes that she would come back out, but he didn’t want a repeat of what just happened.
He took a sip of his drink while he observed, but just as he started to relax the man at the end of the bar tilted his lowball glass back to take his own sip, and one of the lights on the other side shined through the glass and displayed the…red…contents. It wasn’t runny, it wasn’t grenadine, it was blood.
Did he sneak that in here? Jake had obviously seen Vampire’s drink from glasses before, they could be formal when they wanted to, but out in the open like this? That was ballsy as hell.
A drop escaped the glass and landed on the corner of the man’s, well, Vampire’s mouth and his tongue darted out to catch it. The bartender Jake now knew as Stacey was just standing there, chatting away as if she hadn’t even seen it. The hunter immediately thought that the Vampire had Persuaded this young girl into not noticing, and if he was already doing that, what else was he planning to do?
Jake immediately shifted into hunter-mode, his casual evening cut short by duty calling. He sat there, listening as best he could over the loud music and crowd noise. Soon his glass was empty, and as Stacey walked back by he got her attention and she stopped in front of him.
He ordered another whiskey, but before she could hop off to make it he asked her a question, “hey umm…who's that down there?” He tilted his head slightly in the Vampire’s direction.
A sheepish smile spread across her face, “oh…that’s Lou. He’s in here a lot.” Even in the dim lighting Jake could see the color rush to her cheeks when she said Lou’s name.
A regular Vampire, huh, not for much longer, Jake thought.
He opened his mouth to ask another question but Stacey’s eyes suddenly went wide and she darted off to the Employee door without another word. He vaguely heard her say the name, “Cecilia” as she exited but he wasn’t sure.
Jake sat there confused as to what spooked her so quickly, and he stole another glance at “Lou” the Vampire.
“So, another whiskey for you?” A smoky voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Jake whipped his head back to the direction of the voice and suddenly, she was in front of him. He gaped at her, once again reverting back to his awkward prepubescent self. All he could do was nod like an idiot. A new glass was placed in front of him, the amber liquid perfectly poured.
“This one’s on the house,” she said as she leaned against her hands on the edge of the bar. The motion made her collar bones visible just beneath the scooped-neck of her t-shirt. Fuck.
“O-oh you don’t have to-”
“Nonsense, I like giving out a free drink once and awhile, especially to new faces. I even top shelved it for you,” her lips formed a smile and she tilted her head at him, as if she already knew the effect she had on him.
He took a sip, savoring the liquor on his tongue before swallowing. Perfectly smooth.
“Now, what are you doing here,” she asked, a little less friendly than before.
The question threw him off, why would she ask that?
“Just checking out local places while I’m in town,” he answered with a level tone as he took another swig of his drink.
“Hmm…yeah but what were you doing just a couple minutes ago?”
He looked at her strangely, “just sitting here?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his throat tighten up out of nowhere. What the fuck?
“Uh-huh, just sitting here? Not scoping out the place?”
“No? Why would I-,” his throat tightened up even more, making it harder to breathe. Jake struggled to take in a breath as he gripped the glass in front of him.
“You do know where you’re sitting, right?” She leaned even closer to him, lowering her voice.
“At a bar…?” That was the truth, partially, but he didn’t know where she was going with this.
She smirked at him, “oh I guess you didn’t notice that this bar happens to be next to a cemetery?”
Cemeteries were probably one of the few truly neutral places you could be. Neutral in the sense that creatures knew better than to start trouble in them, and hunters were lumped into that protocol as well. They were their own liminal space with their own rules, and Jake remembered Sam rambling about the spirits that reside in them did not take kindly to truces being broken on their land. If Jake had actually killed the Vampire at the end of the bar, it would not be pretty for him once the spirits figured out what happened. If the woman in front of him knew this rule, then what was she?
“Fuck,” he rasped.
“Yeah, fuck is right. So what is a hunter like you coming into my bar where we mind our own business and coexist as best we can?” Irritation was evident in her voice.
This was her bar? Oh, he really fucked up.
“Listen I wasn’t trying to start anything,” he tried to explain but his words had his throat nearly closed completely.
“Sure you weren’t,” she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small vial full of pale green liquid. She held it up in front of him, “sir you look very…purple…are you feeling alright?”
He stared at the vile in her hand, and he wasn’t sure if he was connecting the dots or just seeing them, but he tried to whisper a guess.
“W-witch..?”
“Oh nothing gets past you,” she mocked. “And yes, I am, thank you for asking.”
At this point all he could do was wheeze at her.
“Now, I can reverse that little concoction you happily drank, but only on one condition.”
His big brown eyes started watering and he nodded.
She twisted off the cap of the vial and slowly poured the contents into Jake’s glass as she spoke, “you have two minutes to get out of my bar before I get that Werewolf in the corner to throw you out.”
Jake quickly drank down the whole glass as best he could, oxygen finally entering his system as his throat loosened back up.
“S-sorry…” he whispered.
“If you ever come back here and try that shit again, it’ll be a lot worse. Now go,” her voice was final, and she flicked her eyes over his shoulder and at the door.
Jake didn’t hesitate to slide off the barstool and walk right out, not looking back even though he wanted to.
As he drove back to the motel, all he could think about was the Witch that just nearly killed him, and how her eyes bore into his, and for once in his life, Jake Kiszka was the one intimidated and outmatched.
To be continued…
Tag List: @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace ,
#jake kiszka#jake kiszka x oc#moonburn#strangers to lovers#starcrossed but they don't know it#angst#hurt/comfort#themes of PTSD#lingering guilt#parental issues#abandonment issues#and just two broken people trying to figure the fuck out of life#greta van fleet#jake gvf#my fics#my writing#🌙🔥
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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 4
A Prayer in the Prospect of Death
Summary: The years pass and you find out how Simon feels about you before a familiar face arrives.
Words: 2.8k
Parts: 1 2 3 4
“Tell me luv.”
Simon had his fingers tucked under your chin to tilt your head up so you could no longer easily hide. Urgh he was so bloody perceptive.
“It’s silly.”
“You’re always silly, now tell me.”
You fought the urge to blow a raspberry at him. He was truly the most stubbornly protective human you had ever met and he never just let things go if you said it was fine. He always knew when something was bothering you despite your attempts to hide it.
“What am I supposed to do when Joey starts nursery?”
You sighed and dropped any attempt to hide how miserable the thought made you. When you and Johnny had gotten married you had decided that you’d be a stay at home mum. You didn’t have a career you were attached to and Johnny made enough to support the household. Honestly you had come to enjoy it in the last year. You decorated your home for every holiday, experimented in the kitchen until you were actually a very good home cook and baker, always felt safe and content with how well you knew your own space and how cosy and clean you kept it.
It was never how you imagined yourself if you were honest, a homemaker. The idea of you actually sort of enjoying cleaning would have made you feel somewhat ill 5 years ago. But now you were in your own home with a toddler you loved to death and, though you often were reluctant to admit it out loud, a man you loved to death. You had been front and centre for all of Joey’s firsts and you wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Simon missed his first steps. Johnny had been fine doing video calls while he was on base during off hours, but you didn’t even have the number of Simon’s work phone. It used to frustrate you that it felt like he didn’t even exist the moment he left for work, but he had spoken about his family on your first Christmas together and it made you understand. He would never carry anything on him as the Ghost that could link back to you, even in the relative safety of the base during downtime.
Now Joey would be out of the house for most of the day. You could have waited, not sent him to nursery and just kept him home until school, but you knew it would be for your sake rather than his. He loved being around other kids and some of the friends he had made from you taking him to every toddler group in the area in an attempt to be a good mother would be starting nursery as well.
Could you just do nothing all day? Between Johnny’s insurance and death in service benefits and Simon insisting on funnelling money in, you could certainly afford it now, but it felt so wrong when Johnny was dead and Simon was doing the exact job that had killed him.
“What do you mean? You do the same as you do right now if you’re still happy doing it but without him.”
“Lounge around and do nothing while you are out risking your life you mean.”
Simon considered, always careful to think the situation through rather than reply impulsively. He was annoyed with himself for not seeing sooner that you were undervaluing yourself, only considering taking care of Joey which was a full time job in itself as contributing. While it had been a source of bitter guilt in the beginning, he had started to forget how much younger you were than him. He really should have seen it, no woman in her early 20s saw her full worth.
“Princess, you decorated this whole house while I was deployed and you’re the one that fixes things or organises for them to be fixed when they break. You cook almost all our meals from scratch and then make extra to donate to the community kitchen. The garden is immaculate because you follow the planting plan you made yourself and are out there doing maintenance every day. You do not now nor have you ever lounged about doing nothing, even if I would like it if you did.”
He already felt bad enough about it. When he was home he threw himself in, tried to take as much off of you as possible even when he was nowhere near as fast or good at things. If anything he was contributing nowhere near enough money to cover all the full time jobs you were gracefully juggling (only because it had already been a fight to accept any money at all, he gave you what you accepted and then put almost the rest of his pay into an account for Joey).
“Shut up!” you whined, battering fists against his chest as your face flamed.
You had lived together now for just around 3 years. You had been intimately involved for 2. It still absolutely floored you when he was nice to you and made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was so ridiculous to feel like some wide eyed teen with a crush when it came to this idiot. Unfortunately his favourite hobby was fucking with you when you were taken off guard like this.
“Aww baby girl, you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me and Joe don’t you? We’d fall apart without you beautiful” he said in a smooth rumble, peppering kisses across your cheeks and down your neck.
It wasn’t fair that he could just tease you with a version of him that adored you. A version that you enjoyed even if you didn’t really think it was real. Sure there had been a maybe ‘I love you’ years ago after all that sexual tension broke and he seemed to be happy enough, but you could only imagine that if he ever knew how you felt about him he would run. The last 3 years you had fought at every turn to protect your heart, but you had stopped denying at least to yourself that it was pathetically his now.
“Don’t do that.”
“You don’t want praise and kisses?”
He raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a small smile. You loved praised and kisses, he knew that because in the bedroom he could use that to turn you into a pile of obedient princess who did whatever he said if it would earn you his adulation. But it was just sex wasn’t it?
“I don’t want you to pretend.”
He was confused by that and you wanted to sink into the floor to avoid this conversation. You had been avoiding it for a while now.
“I… fuck. Simon, I don’t- it’s not just sex to me” you choked out, not sure how to put it into words without straight out admitting that you were hopelessly in love with him and wanted him in you and J’s lives permanently.
“Christ, you pretty little idiot” he growled, grabbing your face roughly in his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you. I’m not Johnny, I don’t do big romantic gestures. I’m not the kind of man to tell you all the time how I feel. I’m the kind of man who is a selfish bastard because I don’t give a fuck if you deserve someone who does. You are mine. You have been for years. Do you understand me?”
You could only blink wide-eyed as your brain tried to catch up with the whole world restarting itself after the shock.
“Do you understand me?” he snapped.
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl… wanna get married?”
You stuttered out an outraged shout, feeling the tears that had been building drying up at the audacity of this man.
“Johnny took me to the cabin. He made me a replica of the first dinner we had together and set the table outside during the sunset. He organised for fireworks!”
“Told you I don’t do romantic gestures.”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine, let’s get married Casper. You’re the fucking worst.”
“Don’t I know it princess. I’m not wearing a tie.”
“Then I’m not wearing a dress.”
“Yes you bloody well are!”
“Wanna bet?!”
-
He did not wear a tie, but Joey did. Your dress was beautiful. Gaz officiated your wedding for the second time. Price said there was an emergency so he couldn’t make it - you weren’t really sure you believed him.
-
As you cleared up after the whirlwind that was breakfast in a house with a 9 year old late for school, you sighed and stuck on a heat patch. You were starting to wonder if being off birth control was maybe a little pointless because in the past 18 months it had only reminded you how much you hated periods after years of them being gone as a useful side effect.
It had been something you were speaking about since you got married. You had always wanted more kids. Simon had never even expected he’d have one. You were terrified of a repeat of your first pregnancy, he was terrified that his genes were poisonous. You had enough money with his hefty pay and your small business (you had started it up soon after Joey had started nursery and you got a lot of orders for events, birthdays and weddings for sets of biscuits. You imagined wherever Johnny was he was howling with laughter that you had turned into a home baker after all the kitchen disasters he had seen).
In the end it had been Joseph who made the decision. One shrugged mention of how he thought it’d be nice to have a little sibling and that was that. There was not one thing in the whole wide world you and Simon would not give him if it was in your power. Although you were starting to think it wasn’t in your power at all.
It wasn’t like you didn’t have an active sex life and in honesty it had only gotten more active from the breeding kink Simon had uncovered as soon as it was a possibility. But it just hadn’t happened.
You wondered if it was better that it hadn’t, at least until Joey was 10. That was when you had agreed you would tell him everything. On advice of a psychologist you had told him that Simon wasn’t his biological father very early on, as early as he could understand the concept, although stressed he was still his dad. The only thing you mentioned about his biological father was that he had died even though that was very much against the psychologists advice, she had said to tell him everything about Johnny.
But in 4 months he would turn 10 and he knew that you would answer his questions then. It was shitty of the two of you really, to hide Johnny until now. Joey’s grandmother still saw him, but she never talked about her son or who he was. It was cowardice. Simon had been speaking with a therapist for years about how to let go of the idea that Johnny died because he couldn’t save him. You felt ill at the idea of your son knowing you had married his dead father’s best friend. Both of you were so scared of Johnny’s ghost that you kept him from his son for nearly a decade.
Well sort of. Joey knew who Johnny was, just not that he was his father. There were photos of him in the house. Whenever Gaz, Price and their partner (that had been a whole drama, but you were happy the three of them finally worked it out) were around, sometimes they would reminisce about him. Well Gaz and Simon did, Price would just look pained and excuse himself to get a drink.
You could only hope that Joey wouldn’t hate you, but then he was such a great kid. A little wild, but incredibly kind and empathetic beyond his years. He had Johnny’s eyes. You thought that he’d understand when you explained it all. Maybe he’d yell at you for thinking he would blame you for falling in love with his dad, but he’d understand.
You focused on cleaning up and getting the kitchen back clean and cosy how you liked it, deciding not to borrow worries from the future.
–
Price had told him to settle his arse down in the base and let him travel down and talk to him before he went anywhere. Johnny ignored him. He had just saved the fucking world, there was not one thing that was going to keep him from his wife and child one second longer.
He had debriefed already, been medically cleared to leave. He knew the paperwork was going to be horrendous given that he was legally dead, but frankly he’d leave it for the intelligence agencies to deal with given how much of a big bloody favour he had just done them. He got your address off of them given that Price hadn’t given it to him, just telling him to wait until he got there. Fuck that.
It didn’t take too long to get himself there. It was oddly comforting hearing all the English accents after a decade of hearing almost entirely Russian even if he’d be moving your pretty arse back North of the border as soon as he could. Not a chance was his family living in Carlisle. He wondered why you would move that far from the Highlands where his family was. You had always been no contact with your own family, maybe you had reconciled with them and moved to be closer?
He would find out. Whatever it was he’d support you. God he loved you, he had missed you so fucking much. He had imagined the reunion for years, thought of your smile and your laugh when he needed to remind himself what he was fighting for, thought of your soft skin and tight pussy when he needed to relieve some tension with his right hand. Whenever he sent up a prayer in the prospect of death, it was for you that he prayed he would survive.
He thought of how he’d hold you for days when he got back. He knew you would have raised a wonderful son and he could not wait to meet the person he had become. He’d hold him as well, spend days cuddled up and watching movies with his family.
And then he’d take you to the cabin and lose himself in your body. Fuck it was strange to think he’d have to consider it wasn’t just you two anymore. He didn’t want to lose any time with his son, but he needed alone time with you as well. He’d work it out.
The house was nice, sort of quaint with the pretty flowers both real and painted on the door. It hurt knowing if he hadn’t been away you’d have something bigger. You would have had to for a growing family.
He wished he had stopped and gotten a change of clothes and a haircut. He was in military issued sweats and a hoodie and his hair had grown out to curl around his ears. He really should have shaved as well, a task he hadn’t had time for in the chaos of the last few months. But fuck it, he was here and he couldn’t wait.
It was almost like an out of body experience knocking on the door, knowing he was seconds away from you. He should have realised that there was another person around who could answer the door, but he hadn’t been thinking. The Joseph he knew was a tiny baby, not a bright eyed kid with a toothy grin in a football strip (a bloody Man U strip at that, Johnny just knew his uncle Simon would have had a hand in that and it made him grin knowing his best friend was still in his son’s life).
“Ye got big!” he belted, excited beyond proper introductions at seeing his son.
The kid furrowed his brows for a moment before he brightened with recognition. Johnny assumed now was about the time for crying and yelling and hugging. He was unprepared for the alternative.
“I know you! You’re dad’s Sergeant! I thought you died.”
His heart lurched, putting the dots together well before his brain could.
“Joe hurry it up! We’ll miss kick-off!”
Johnny knew that voice. It was not yours.
“I’m ready!”
“You better be! Right, who’s at the door then?”
The voice got closer and even though he wanted to run Johnny was rooted to the spot. It felt like the next 10 seconds as the footsteps and voice came closer was hours. The door swung wider open as a hand pulled on it from behind and then he was looking into the eyes of Simon Riley. The silence was deafening until Johnny broke it.
“What the fuck did you do Si!”
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I think I am neurodivergent.
There is no official diganosis and at this stage in my life I probably won't look for one. But in recent years I've started to think I probably am one. I even thought about asking my therapist about this, just before she released me a couple years ago. But it just felt like I was making things up at the moment. Besides, it is pretty stupid for a mental health specialist to self-diagnose, so that's why I am not saying this with complete certainty.
Huh, this is one of those posts I should be writing in Spanish.
Anyway, why am I randomly posting this in my Sim blog? Well, because I am exhausted. I've spent the last two months carrying a huge figurative boulder on my shoulders and just pretending (or masking) non stop. If you met me in person, the most likely impression you would have of me is that I am a very calm, warm and sweet person, who has her shit together, is the voice of reason, a great listener, someone who is eager to come up with solutions to any problem. Someone who has control over her emotions, who likes "normal" everyday stuff. People look up to me and I am constantly been asked for support, both in my professional and personal life. I am so nice and adaptable, that I was able to practically live in a hospital for over 5 weeks, just leaving it to go to work.
However, deep inside I am a very anxious woman, who is triggered by thoughts of death, disease (of loved ones), doctors and hospitals. I need to have my time to be alone. I prefer (almost need) to sleep in a very dark room and listening to movie or videogame podcasts. I've always been into videogames and animated shows, and I tend to obsess about those topics. I used to write a lot of fanfiction and loved it, but have never told a soul because I am so embarrased by it. I prefer to be alone, I hate to make and answer phone calls and when I get a notification on Whatsapp I really need to take a moment to even read the message (and it is even worse if it's a voice message). I am socially awkward in situations that are not related to work. I used to stimm a lot when I was a child, and I still do it when I am stressed. I was a picky eater. I used to be the lonely child who preferred to be by herself and only made friends because my parents were worried. I do not watch series on Netflix, but I can browse Youtube for hours and watch Lets Plays and documentaries about shows. I've always wanted to share my nerd tendencies, but I can't, because I am a woman in her forties, and my family and social circle look down on that stuff. So I constantly pretend and only when I am alone at night I can browse and look at the stuff I like, which is honestly very innocent, but I feel like I have to hide it.
And these last weeks I have had to constantly hide myself in my "social" and "professional" self. And I am exhausted. I feel like my heart is heavy. And it is even affecting my work performance.
So I come to my nerdy spot on the Internet to vent. To the one place in which I can sort of be myself and hope like someone might read this and understand.
*Reads Post* Wow, this is why I mostly lurk. I sound like a 15 year old and my urge to pretend that everything is fine with me is screaming that I do not post this. 😥
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Once again it's Regal appreciation hour by which I mean day by which I mean year by which I mean lifetime.
I was very much prepared to not write any fanfiction this year, but I cannot divorce myself from how awesome my favorite Symphonia blorbos are and so I am writing yet another stupid fanfic. I feel feral about these characters in general but Raine gets quite a lot of attention (because she's wonderful, obviously) so I don't want to focus on her too much. Regal, on the other hand, has been underappreciated in the ToS fandom since the game's release day, so I must advocate for him.
I've been RPing as him for the last year or so, and together my RP partner and I have written about 320,000 words of a story. I'm having a blast, and a big part of that is because Regal is, despite the flaws in the storytelling of ToS as a whole surrounding him (and how all of the Tethe'alla characters kind of fall flat), a rather well-conceived and implemented character. Yeah, his clothes are dumb (I'm happy to retcon that outfit with zero regrets) and the game blows through his story at such a breakneck pace he doesn't get the space or the arc he deserves (he should have taken his shackles off as part of his 'sacrifice' to fight the angels), but he is a genuinely fascinating character who feels, just like many of the others do, as if he belongs very specifically in the world he was created for.
I know a lot of people like to write him as this sad sack of shit just absolutely lost in the grief sauce (see the part about how he didn't get the arc he deserved), but I think that's a mistake. See, the biggest bump in the road for Regal was his lack of understanding of what was happening and why. When you think about it, he was faced with having to kill Alicia seemingly out of nowhere. Like one day he's just minding his business and the next Alicia is gone and very quickly after that she's a monster trying to kill him AND HE HAS NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON. He has no answers. All he knows is that he killed her, and his autistic* brain latches onto that detail because it's all he has.
You have to think, too, about the fact that the game gives him nobody. His parents are dead. George, the only person even remotely close to Regal--someone he's known his *whole life*--betrayed him. (George didn't mean for things to go Like That and he's sorry he did it, but HE STILL DID IT.) Regal doesn't have friends and the extra material makes it clear that he was literally raised, specifically by his father, to be a workaholic. Do you think anyone came to see him in prison? He fought in a coliseum for his life for YEARS. He was on friendly terms with some of the other inmates but the guy had eight years to just sit there and get stuck in the loop of knowing he killed the one person he'd let himself get even remotely close to.
Which is something else people always downplay for some reason. The shit with Alicia isn't just "guy is sad because he killed his girlfriend." It's very much, "guy was born and bred to take on the family legacy" except in this case the family legacy is a company, an island, a noble bloodline, and also the absolutely insane idea that work and profit is all that matters. Everyone else is out to get you. Keep the workers dissatisfied but keep them hooked just enough that they'll never leave. Take no time for fun or friends or merriment. Everything in your life is a business transaction. Don't ever forget it. It's us vs. them. You're alone and you have to make this your entire life or it'll all fall to pieces and it will be your fault.
The drama cd in particular really honed in on that way of being raised and it makes his entire character make complete sense. At a relatively young age his father died and he ended up on top (though it's stated he had to work as a CEO before he was elected via a board to the position of President). Having no other guidelines other than what he was taught--and what George himself adhered to--Regal followed that path...until he ended up miserable, because, despite the way he was raised, he's a goddamn empath**.
After literal YEARS of occasionally running into Alicia and talking to her, he starts forming a connection to her--which is important because he's never allowed himself to do this before. And at one point he realizes he doesn't even know her name...which comes as a surprise to him...and brings with it shame. After this, he starts living for himself. He listens to his employees--something his father never did. He starts enacting rules to protect his employees, particularly from things that would hurt them in the field, because part of what was making him so miserable was wrestling with the empathy of their terrible working conditions on top of just hearing his father's manta repeating itself in his head all the time.
I cannot stress enough how important this is. Alicia, despite being a love interest and someone he was interested in seriously dating and perhaps someday marrying (the details of their relationship are never known but it's almost more tragic if they were just starting to be serious), WAS STILL HIS EMPLOYEE.
He was supposed to protect his employees. He was doing so much to ensure his employees would be safe. And then he killed Alicia.
Alicia, the one person he allowed himself to get close to.
Now, consider the fact that he was raised as a tool and not a beloved son; he was not allowed to have friends and not allowed to make merry. He was under his father's thumb until his father's untimely death--a death, by the way, that only surprised him with its suddenness; he did not grieve that man!! Regal, as a 25-year-old man, had ZERO coping mechanisms. All he had was the truth he was raised under and the fact that he went against that truth AND WAS NOW BEING PUNISHED FOR IT. How can someone like this think of anything except that they are the reason George was put in a position where he had to get rid of Alicia? That the only reason Alicia was experimented on and turned into a monster was because of her connection to Regal?
IT MAKES ME FEEL SO FERAL!!!
The events of the game open his eyes to the ACTUAL truth, to what actually happened AND WHY IT HAPPENED TO ALICIA. In the end he learns he had NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. If he had not befriended and started falling for Alicia, she still would have died--it's just, if she hadn't had a more direct connection to Regal, who knows where she might have met her end. Alone, forgotten? At least someone knew her as she was; at least someone can tell Presea the kind of person her sister was.
The ToS fandom has always loved joking about how Regal's just into punishment as a kink or whatever (and I'll never forgive the shitty non-canon-in-my-heart sequel for leaning so hard into that angle, fuck you fuck you fuck you) but let's be serious about it for a hot second. Yes, I think learning this information puts him on a better path, but you can't erase 8 years of self-loathing and fear instantly. Did you guys really think this man would just forget about the darkest years of his life and start frolicking in fields of flowers?
The trauma he's endured goes so much deeper than "I killed the person I loved," and boiling it down to that really does the character a disservice. The "born for a specific purpose, not allowed to exist outside of that purpose" bit is also given to Colette and Zelos, but while their role is being a sacrifice whose only use is dying or procreating to continue the line to have more sacrifices (absolutely also traumatizing btw), Regal's situation feels a lot more like indoctrinated religion and, very specifically (and no I am not kidding), religious trauma. Again, he endured that very controlled lifestyle complete with a mantra from birth into his early 20s, and the MOMENT he broke away from it too far, his life came crashing down around him in a very painful and traumatizing way.
Now, you might think the religious trauma parallel is unfounded, if not also the indoctrinated religion aspect of it, it could just as easily be a parallel for an abusive and controlling relationship, right down to the betrayal from someone who is supposed to have your best interests at heart the moment you step outside of that control to the feelings of shame and self-loathing and "you did this to yourself."
So whenever I see people joking about what a sad sack of shit he is or whatever, I'm just astounded, especially if it's coming from someone who loves literally any other character in the game. Like, you'll definitely have your blorbos, and I totally understand if Regal just ain't it for you, but I find it really disconcerting that someone might find (for example) Yuan's trauma deeply meaningful but see Regal's as stupid or silly.
I'm pretty sure I started this post to talk about how easy it is for me to RP as Regal because he's just such a great character to sink into and write about, particularly because I like to imagine that, starting in the post-game, he deeply regrets some of the choices he's made in his life, and, rather than lean into the things that have already transpired, he seeks to do what he can to better the world around him with the resources and power that he has.
It's like the ultimate fuck-you to the way his father raised him. He's not wasting the skills he's developed, but he's also not using them to hurt people or for personal or Lezareno profit.
I think most of us love writing about characters who have to work through their trauma, but there's an extra layer here that I particularly enjoy with Regal. With Raine I'm all about her inability to trust easily and her struggle to feel truly comfortable around other people, but with Regal I think it's maybe specifically related to the fact that he has had a lot handed to him that he didn't necessarily want, and his self-sacrificing nature lends itself to him feeling obligated to take it. I fully believe Regal would be happier and better off stepping away from Lezareno and from his family's toxic ass legacy*** (or at least not working it full-time as the acting President) but I can't ignore the fact that...these things are all he has and all he knows. So writing about him attempting to get back into the swing of things, maybe struggling to find time for himself, falling into workaholic patterns by mistake, learning to set boundaries between his private life and his job...all while not being fully satisfied and finding more fulfillment in charity work and other pursuits, just makes him feel like a very well-rounded character. Like...it's believable that he would continue to work a job he didn't particularly love specifically because not only does he not know anything else, but he knows with this position of power he can make a lot of things happen that would be impossible if he just twiddled his thumbs on the sidelines--like financial assistance going to Palmacosta, or his duties as a nobleman to try to get better laws passed in Tethe'alla, etc.
This was a pretty clumsily-written post and for that I am truly sorry. I've just been absolutely insane lately thinking about Regal and I had to get some of why I think he's such a wonderful character out into the world.
:)
*this is just my headcanon but a lot about Regal screams autism to me.
**this is canon as far as I'm concerned. I wrote him this way far before I ever heard the drama cd, and the drama cd just solidified it for me tenfold.
***there's a scene in the hotel with Lloyd I think where Regal says his family's legacy on Altamira started when Tethe'alla flipped over to being a flourishing world last, which means they were in a position of power great enough to build an empire on Altamira already at that time (800+ years ago). I don't want to get into how awful this probably was or how evil the family was because I think you can all imagine that for yourselves. Also, nobody ever mentions the fact that Regal is the last of his family line, but it's a very convenient built-in control tactic to guilt someone into doing as they're told or risk bringing shame to a family that's been going strong and unbroken for over 1,000 years.
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More misc. daily life pictures and such
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1 & 2 - Very bright pretty looking sky !#2. HUGE icicle that looked like you could kill someone with it or something.. Pulled from near a gutter on the side of a building#3. & 4 & 5 - various images from a silly party I had where I pretended to be some elf king turning like 204 years old lol (also not like#a REAL party. Only my roommates were there really and we're all in the same household bubble.#just to clarify. I would never dare have a large party anyway given#my hermitous nature but on top of that.. didn't want there to be some implication that I'm having a Party while covid is still ongoing lol.#NEVER.. But I do love dressing up as some fantasy character so much.. The only thing that could ever bring a true hermit wizard#to engage with others socially is the prospect of connecting it somehow to fantasy worlds and costumes lol. One must simply dress up#as a silly 200 year old man from time to time and pretend you've never seen a balloon before in your life. etc.#6. bapy boye... feets#7. The main food that I made for the elderly elf man 'party'. which was a Deconstructed Beef Wellington (kind of as ajoke since I watch s#o many silly cooking competition shows and they always make stuff 'deconstructed' at the last minute when under time limits or whatever.)#I've wanted to make beef wellington a few times but Ithink to do it well I'd need like..an actual kitchen and a lot of time and#an oven that fully works to bake things and etc. etc. So I thought this would be an easier method. A thick steak cut round to kind of mimi#c the round tenderloin or whatever it is in a wellington. instead of the puff pastry being wrapped around - I just did star shaped cut outs#of pastry and baked them and put them on top (to go with the star theme). instead of mushroom duxelles being wrapped around in pastry#its in a little circle under the steak. and instead of mustard being brushed onto the meat I made a mustard gravy sauce type of thing#Then of course asparagus on the side.. my favorite... Though I know some wellington#also has a layer of prosciutto I think. or I saw one person use crepes. I didn't feel it was necessary to incorporate that too lol#8. bapy son helping me do a giant puzzle that took me hours and I had no idea it was actually that large of a puzzle#until I started putting it together and for some reason it made me stressed by the end instead of relaxed lol.. puzzle fatigue#photo diary
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it was too much i had to make my own post
line cook here. ACCURATE
if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.
it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.
The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.
So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.
(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)
Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.
More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.
So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.
all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.
while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays
Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.
Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.
The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.
Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself
you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)
If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.
Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there
Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in
oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?
water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.
Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!
The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.
You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)
THE POINT IS
by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.
For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.
if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.
you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.
See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?
those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...
And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...
Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.
In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.
IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO
open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.
Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.
It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.
but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.
#long post#sorry#i just have a lot of DO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND feelings left over from all my years in restaurants#restaurants#line cook#service industry
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...i'm starting to wonder if i wasn't actually pretty often failed by the adults in my life as a young kid tbh.
#i'm always doubtful where to put the blame#in a morally neutral causality kind of way to be clear#because like. i dont know. if i was the adult. confronted to the opaque behavior of a child. would i have done better?#but also i can't help but think#why the fuck did they make me skip a grade (last grade of primary on top of that) when i was notorious for never doing my homework#and was incredibly inconsistent across topics#like i sucked at math. like ''needs to count on fingers to do a simple addition or substraction'' sucking at math.#like i never learned any multiplication tables sucking at math#like i never got how to pose divisions and still can't at age 18 because logicomathematics are completely counterintuitive to me#and just. the work was never done to make me Get It. my work or teachers' work who knows. but perhaps skipping a grade wasnt the solution#or like#apparently when i was three years old the pediatrician suspected smth was up with me#either autism directly or ''generally suspicious child'' we're not clear on that#but he told my parents. and everybody said ''we better test that'' and then. nothing. idk.#they filled a parental report of behaviors questionnaire for... adhd i think? autism maybe. and that's it. never fucking heard about it.#god. i just remembered my mom saying proudly they almost never put me in the nursery as a kid.#always either with a parent or family or a nanny.#and perhaps mother. you could have foreseen that a kid with no siblings no pets no kid neighbors no playdates. would end up socially fucked#i remember the teachers scolding late students and showing us that we were supposed to be in bed by 9:30 or something#and internally i was like BUDDY AT 9PM WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH DINNER#MOM'S BEEN HOME FOR LESS THAN AN HOUR#and shit. i don't know. i was scared of the dark as a child. to the point that even with the compromise#of keeping the door ajar and lights in the hallway (which i had to fucking advocate for btw)#i still slept curled up in the bathroom on a towel sometimes when it got too scary#and i would cry and scream before going to bed. i would beg my mom for sleeping pills from a young age.#i would often find myself in the morning sleeping with my face smushed between the pages of the book i literally fell asleep on#because i read until my eyes gave out#and a couple years later when i got a 3ds i'd play at night and if my dad caught me he'd storm into my room and i'd hide under the comforte#and he'd punch a couple times and whisper-yell at me not to do that and go to sleep#it took until i was about 15yo for me to see a sleep specialist
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i used my tarot deck for the first time in literally like a year today 🤩 never seems to not make me shooketh, i got the exact answer i was needing but at the same time i still dk what to do 🤣🤣 you’d think my ancestors would help me not indecisive but no we indecisive lmao
#tbh tho i took the message as a way for too particular things so#had me like ‘y’all I ain’t even askin about that wtf’#soo guess time will tell#i wanna start getting into that#especially since I work nights so I have plenty of time before work#which I used to always do it before work last time I had these hours and it would be HITTIN#I’d ask for advice for the day and stuff or like what I should expect for the day#the day the trumpets raided the capital I pulled the devil card#I cannot even make this up#and there was twice where i found a card randomly on the floor in my room#craziness#either way tho i need that back in my life#my ears be ringing and everything liek i have not even talked about Thai on here bc I don’t want people to think I’m crazy#bc I’m not#I’ve accepted this part of my life and tbh I think I sacred myself away from it when I was a kid#bc i saw my grandma one time and it freaked me tf out and she never came to see me again 😭😭#and she. I was really little my mom thought I had an imaginary friend bc I would literally like talk to him. I said it was my shadow brother#she said that was fucking terrrifying bc I was like 3 so why tf would I say that 🤣#but after she told me this randomly when I got older I figured out it was my twin that didn’t make it#I said it was probably a boy because she never got to find out the gender#that’s some spooky shit fr#I wish I could remember but I don’t at all#I only remember seeing my grandma bc I did not even speak of it to anyone for the looooongest time#I was spooked asf#anyways tho if I would get my shit together and work hard for this I could probably make a job out of this#I already predict everyone’s future for free so might as well get paid for it 🤣🤣🤣#I be the knower of the things and still make dumb ass decions#literally my brother said that to me#made me mad bc he was nice and then said the last bit 🙃 but he right
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nvm im too tired and overstimulated for this shit
#.vent#i only slept a couple hours last night man. i cant do short notice evening socials on an empty tank let alone resist unexpected rsd#if they had let me know earlier then i wouldve taken a nap and worked out beforehand to get my energy back up#idk just. if u rly want my company then maybe u should actually invite me next time. its not like they didnt plan it#even if they just forgot its not particularly pleasant to be the one person insignificant enough to forget abt. theres only 5 of us#they rly remembered to ask the one guy who isnt even here before me yknow. ugh u see the stupid thoughts i have to battle!!#like on a rational level ik it was probably genuinely accidental. but the way i instinctively react is not always rational#so regardless someone has to deal with the emotional fallout and thats me. regulating this shit is hard work even when im NOT tired asf#i really really dont want to be an asshole and spoil anyones fun bc its no-ones fault + as real as it feels to me rn ik im overreacting#but i cant voluntarily expose myself to personal triggers when im already exhausted + more vulnerable than usual#so just gotta shut myself in my room and deal with it in my own super healthy ways as per usual. may they never fucking find out#trying my best not to be an asshole i hope to fucking god they dont think im being an asshole i just told them i was tired + i meant it#this wouldnt be so much of a problem if it hadnt happened to me before. and also ik its bc one rsd trigger makes me more sensitive-#to picking up unrelated cues but there ARE other things they do that i find ostracising which rly dont fucking help. but-#theyre not things i can actually confront them abt so usually i just gotta deal w it which is fine but it lowers my general tolerance#its ok. its ok i like them all a lot theyre lovely ppl and it doesnt matter if there is a some grain of truth in the things im thinking#bc the risk of me believing + acting on a bad faith irrational thought leads to outcomes that are far worse than those from#misidentifying someones malicious behaviour towards me as neutral by accident/in good faith. okay im done now i think#just ignore me spewing out the old brain gunk on main again eurgh anyway im gonna go calm myself and read and SLEEP#ill be normal by tomorrow morning farewell comrades#honestly i dont mind dealing w shit this way bc its the best option for everyone but man. sometimes its so fucking lonely#like there are sides of me ppl will never engage with and for good reason but without them being acknowledged i find it rly hard to feel-#any real emotional intimacy or closeness with another person. but what other option is there#i sure as hell dont miss the fights i used to constantly get into when i wasnt able to regulate myself i lost so many friends that way#it is what it is. on we go for now
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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)
SO these I should start on asap:
50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make
100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week
150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)
200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)
these can wait longer:
300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect
500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)
1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks
2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.
Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese
here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)
How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks
I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.
that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.
the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.
On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
#spilled ink#writeblr#pos#recovery#my brain is like - don't trust it!!!!!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!! we can't be wrong again!!!!!!#and im like. what if the sorrow is the thing that's wrong though.#what if this - this!!!!! - is the truth
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YANDERE HUSBAND HEADCANONS
Hello Darlings! This is an imagine I had in my drafts about a husband who just loves his wife so much he wants to care for and impregnate her💕 Hope you like it!
WARNINGS ⚠️: NSFW!! (Minors do NOT interact), NSFW descriptions, fem!darling, controlling husband, pregnancy mentions
-You’ve been Married to your husband for a year now and it’s been great. The biggest change was your last name changing to his and having a big rock on your finger. The second was him asking you to be a stay-at-home wife…
-You loved your job but…how could you say no to all your needs being met by a man who worships and adores you? He just wants to take care of you and be comfortable. “Is that so bad of me to want for my little wifey?” He would ask while kissing the knuckle of your hand.
-He told you if you didn’t like the lifestyle that you could go back to working. (As if he was gonna let that happen.) which made you feel better about just being at home all day and spending his money. And also letting you believe you had some control. But of course that wasn’t the end of his plans..
-Before having unprotected sex your husband would always gush about having babies with you and how great of a mother you would be. Your face would turn red at the thought at first but then you brushed it off as your husband having baby fever. It’ll pass right?
-Ha. If only it was a phase.
-This man has been wanting to impregnate you since the first year of you two dating. He loves you so much and think life would be even more amazing if you carried and raised children together. He wants to see your big belly and be there for when you get needy and become oh so helpless with the excessive hormones.
-But despite not using protection you always tracked your period for your health. Your husband started to get into it as well to lookout for your ovulation week. His favorite time of the month.
-He would low key get a little bummed out when you would start your period. But it gave him motivation to try harder…go harder… cum inside you harder…
-Perhaps he could just do that position you liked a few days ago….you were really squeezing him and begging for more.
-Yeah by the way, this man keeps track of what positions are best for making a baby and what makes you cum hard on his cock.
-You are no dummy to his antics. It takes two to tango. You knew your husband wanted a baby and…let’s just say he was very convincing in his actions to want a family.. 👀
-Plus you were married so there really wasn’t anything to be worried about right?
-So why do you shake with anxiety as you look at the test in your hands? The reality of it hits you hard in your bathroom. You feel good but also nervous to tell him. Even though he always claims he’s wanted kids with you just couldn’t help but prepare for the worst. But you also knew this would happen eventually when you let him cum inside you.
-A week prior when you two went out for dinner, your husband was the most possessive man ever. He hated when other men would even get to look at you. His grip was tighter and gaze so dark. On the way home he was holding onto your thigh as if you would fly away.
-That night you had 3 hours of raw heaven. By the end of it you remember being sticky and a bit sex drunk. Not being able to move your legs to your butt feeling sore. Your husband did not waver. You felt so full of him and content you couldn’t even complain.
-“My perfect wife, taking her husband’s load so good…”
-A week and a missed period later your husband in question is downstairs cooking dinner for you both. He figured since youre in the shower (and taking a pregnancy test) that he would surprise you!
-You come down in a bathrobe, hand griping on the tie. “Hey honey?”
-He turns his head to you, immediately becoming worried at your facial expression and appearance. Turning off the stove burners he comes over to you. “What’s up baby? you okay?” He puts a hand on your waist and another resting on your cheek to look at him.
-“I-I’m pregnant..” you stutter out. You back up from him to get his full expression. His face would be surprised but then he would become red in happiness and embrace you. You blinked a few times not saying anything before your husband exclaims with watery eyes “I’m so happy!!”
-You both embraced the news and continued into the night gushing about this new chapter you started. For your husband it was more of a marker that you’re finally all his. And he can’t wait for the little rascals he’ll continue to fill you with.
-That night after dinner you both lay in bed with your husbands hand holding your stomach protectively. You place a hand over his, smiling and drifting to sleep before you heard your husband mumble “Now you’re all mine..” in his sleep…
❤️
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Bad girls get punished or?
ft& Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Scaramouche, Jing Yuan, IL Dan Heng
cw: nsfw, fem!reader, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, foul language, spanking, chocking, thigh riding, marking, breeding, degradation, teasing etc...
summary: you've been feeling neglected, and acting bratty towards your boyfriend which lead to him putting you in your place.
Neuvillette: riding, spanking, pet names
Neuvillette was fed up with your behaviour, he was trying to work, but you just had to sit and grind onto his lap, he had already told you to stay quiet while he finished some paperwork, and he would reward you but you didn't have any patience for that, instead giving into your desires which resulted in punishment.
Having you bent over his desk as he spanked your cute little butt, "Ow..! That hurts... Be more gentle!" you whined, feeling his big hand slap at your skin once again, there would be red marks for days surely, despite how it felt painful—you secretly enjoyed it, feeling more aroused than ever to have him punish you like this. Neuvillette could tell you were enjoying it, making him sigh, he was too forgiving at times like these, placing you to then ride his lap, wiping your tears away, "You're such a bad girl, cherié, I won't punish you any more, instead you'll have to ride me."
He muttered, looking at you before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, "If you end up not needing my help, then I'll reward you by fucking you nice and full, what do you think, hm?"
You smiled delighted when you heard his words, he really was too forgiving towards you, but you knew that he would be the opposite when you get your reward, always making sure you're satisfied.
Wriothesley: cockwarming, rough sex, manhandling
While you were needy and horny, your lover was busy, having to handle some affair within the Fortress of Meropide. It didn't help that you wanted him so badly, you went ahead and visited him, only to find him buried with paperwork as he sipped his favorite tea. Wriothesley was used to your neediness, often indulging your desired as he missed the warmth of your cunt enveloping him as much as you too did, but he could just abandon all of his work, it was the busiest around this time period for the duke.
Even as you wore your pretty little skirt and top, he didn't give in to your pleas instead having you cockwarm him, "Mm...stay still, love. Just a few more hours, and I'll give you what you want."
you felt better when you heard his words but "a few more hours", was he crazy?! No way would you be able to wait that long, not when his cock was buried so deep inside your aching core—it was so hard to resist the temptation of rolling your hips and fucking yourself on his shaft. you tried your best to stay good, nuzzling his neck, but when you felt his hand rub your thigh up and down... you couldn't do it. instead lifting yourself up and then sinking onto his cock, the sensation making you moan, albeit it was a quick relief as Wriothesley then pulled you off his lap, clearly that was his last straw.
"You're not getting out of this, sweetheart. You know, I adore when you're being a brat, but it's time to punish you a little, turn around." ah...you fucked up.
you gulped before doing as told, without waiting any longer, Wriothesley pushed his cock inside your cunt, immediately picking up a relentless pace without giving you a moment to catch your breath.
Wriothesley made sure to fuck his seed deep into you, hopefully that would satiate you for some time, you had to leave his office with his cum dripping out of you cunt, you were praying that it wouldn't drip down your legs.
Alhaitham: soft Alhaitham, praise, pet names, comfort
The scribe was not pleased with your behaviour, he was trying to read his book in peace when you came, all flustered and begging Alhaitham to fuck you in the House of Daena, where plenty of other scholars are, yeah, he of course refused, it was a risk, and he wanted to read his book. you couldn't get yourself off, it's been far too long since you last had any Intimacy with Alhaitham due to how busy he'd gotten, and in his little free time, he always reads books which doesn't help that he isn't spending time with you. You were rambling on and on, but no use, Alhaitham wasn't budging.
You didn't understand why he was being eo mean, so cold, he didn't didn't wanna give you a kiss, you didn't even realize that you were crying when Alhaitham pulled you into a hug, a large hand patting your back in comforting circles, "Hush, don't cry, princess... I was being too harsh on you, it's just that I've been overwhelmed and stressed, but that's not an excuse, c'mere." Quickly he placed you to straddle his lap, stroking your cheek tenderly, "I'm very sorry, my love, please forgive me."
He resorted on making it up to you, bringing you home, and making the whole night about you two, his fat cock stretching your cunt as he peppered kisses all over your face and neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, a contrast to the way he was slamming desperately into your hole, he only then realized how much he had missed you.
"Such a good girl... My sweet, sweet girl, taking me so well, I'm proud of you..." He'd whisper into your ear, his hand rubbing tight circles on your clit, his sweet words only fueling your desires to be fucked dumb by him which he fulfilled.
Scaramouche: manhandling, foul language, use of pet names
Punishment is his favorite when you're being a brat, this was no exception. Who did you think you were, trying to make him jealous by flirting with other men? The moment you were home, Scaramouche had you in mating press—his length filling your womb to the brim, he knew you wanted this to happen, your gummy walls only clenching more around him at his harsh and degrading words.
"Did you think you successed, hm? Trying to make me jealous by giving other men your attention? Look at you, acting like a bitch in heat." he muttered, one of his hands squeezing your throat, putting firm pressure, enough for it to feel uncomfortable.
His rough pace only continuing till you cannot take it anymore, your legs trembling from the overwhelming pleasure and stimulation, Scaramouche feels no mercy for you, focusing on his pleasure and teaching you a lesson. "Did you seriously think anyone other than me could fuck you this good?" He asked, looking down at you, his eyes betraying no emotion, only gazing at you as if you're some pathetic worm.
"Answer me, slut." his grip on your throat tightened, you cried out, shaking your head, "N-No...only you! Only you...can f-fuck me this good..!" was the best you could speak out, hoping it was enough for him to forgive you.
Jing Yuan: thigh riding, praise, pet names
He was busy with paperwork, being a general wasn't easy, it meant that he would be busy most of the time which you understood when you became his lover, but that didn't mean you weren't desperate for his affection. Jing Yuan would only tell you to wait and be patient, pressing kisses on your head, it didn't help that you were horny for him. He didn't like the way you were trying to dry hump him, wanting to feel that much needed friction against your dripping core. "What did I tell you, sweetheart? To wait, did I not?"
He sighed as you tried your best to give him puppy eyes to make him cave in, when he saw you disobey his words once again, he gripped your waist,
"Mm...you're being a very needy thing today, I won't be giving in today, though."
he exclaimed, giving you a kiss on the lips before he had you rub yourself on his thigh, having to get yourself off alone, it frustrated you but it was better than nothing. You did like riding his thigh, but you wished he would just fuck you or at least let you ride his cock—you so badly needed his thick length inside your hole, the more you rubbed your clothed cunt against his thigh, the more you wished he'd help you, a small wet patch was already growing on your underwear.
Jing Yuan wrapped his hand around your waist, supporting you while his other scribbled on his paperwork. You were getting desperate to cum, moans escaping you as you rode his thigh with the desire to reach your climax.
"Close, my love? You're ruining my pants, such a messy girl." a low chuckle escaped his lips, taking his eyes off his paperwork to give you a little of his attention. His hands gripped your thighs as he lifted you up and down hard on his thigh.
Even though he only let you ride his thigh, it would suffice as long as he was the one helping you, it was a whole another feeling when he helped you.
IL Dan Heng: vaginal sex, edging, teasing, mean Dan Heng
You have been trying to tease your lover for the past few hours, playing with his sensitive horns which you knew was the easiest way to get his attention. Rubbing the ridges with gentle motions before pressing kisses on both of his horns, Dan Heng loved when you gave attention to his horns, but he was trying to read his book, not have you make him aroused. His attempts at making you stop failed, though. After having enough of you being a brat, his tail wrapped around your waist, eliciting a reaction out of you—was he finally gonna give in?
"You're too greedy, love. I was busy, and I would have made time for you, but not if you keep acting like a brat."
You thought he would give in, he always did after all, and he did. His cock was inside you, hitting all the right spots, it had you seeing stars. Dan Heng really is too kind is what you thought before he told you that you can't cum.
"I'm not giving you permission to cum, princess. That's your punishment, besides isn't this what you wanted, for me to fuck you stupid?"
Was he being for real? you were so close, yes, you did want him to fuck you, he was right about that but you wanted to cum, not have to be edged when you were so desperate to have an orgasm. nevertheless you did as you were told, having him cum inside you made you feel slightly better, albeit you wanted to come too.
You knew you were at fault and that this was your punishment for not listening, he did mention letting you cum if you were good enough, maybe he will feel sorry for you and let you, who knows.
#genshin smut#hsr smut#neuvillette smut#wriothesley smut#alhaitham smut#scaramouche smut#wanderer smut#jing yuan smut#il dan heng smut#genshin impact imagine#genshin x reader#dan heng smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x you#alhaitham x reader#wriothesley#honkai star rail smut#genshin thirst#scara x reader#genshin wanderer#neuvillete x reader#dan heng x reader#il dan heng x reader
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MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late
with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)
one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.
but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.
you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.
"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.
he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.
you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.
then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.
you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.
families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.
you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—
he hadn't shown up.
IZUKU
you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.
you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.
a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.
you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."
the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.
he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.
you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.
"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."
you got off the couch.
"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"
"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.
"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"
"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."
he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"
"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.
his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"
"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"
he groaned. "i know, i know—"
"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.
he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.
"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.
he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.
"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.
he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.
he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."
you refused to look at him.
he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."
you sniffled.
he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"
your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.
he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."
you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.
he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."
"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.
"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.
BAKUGOU
you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.
you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.
you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.
rrrring rrring
you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.
"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"
"a friend's house."
"why?"
you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."
silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."
you hummed.
"y/n. come home."
"i'm good here, really."
"i'm serious, come home."
"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"
his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"
"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.
he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."
you scoffed.
"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."
you waited.
he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"
you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.
after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?
you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.
you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.
as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?
no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.
you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.
you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.
his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"
"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"
"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."
you frowned. "but—"
"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."
you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."
you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."
he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.
you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"
he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."
amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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