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bcbdrums · 3 years

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What Happens In Vegas

A/N: A silly little gift fic for split-n-splice, partially inspired by this amazing art and also inspired by my imaginings of things she's teased are to come in her outstanding fanfiction, The Company You Keep.

Do view her art, do read her fic... Laugh at my nonsense if you so choose.

Read on: FFn AO3

Mature rated fic, you have been warned.

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Drakken was lying on his back when he woke up to a severe throbbing at the front of his skull. As he opened his eyes to a powerful light, the pain spread like claws out across the rest of his head, and after covering his face with both forearms to block out the blinding brilliance, he realized its source was a ceiling light.

The next thing he became aware of was a very soft yet definitely solid something under his knees, keeping them elevated. And then a tight pain in his feet.

A guttural groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself upright, and he almost fell again as he wiped the drool from the side of his face.

'What happened...?'

His vision was swimming, and through the fog he saw waves of pale green on either side of his knees, surrounded by white and pale pink. His fingers gripped the fabric of what he realized were bed sheets, and before his vision cleared, as he stared at his bare blue legs and came to the realization that the rest of him was bare too, he suddenly knew just what—or rather, who—the soft green mass beneath him was.

"Shego?" he whispered fearfully.

He didn't want to jump to conclusions about what had happened, as his clearing vision began to reveal a spartan motel room surrounding them, but it seemed...like it was a fair assumption to make.

He shifted and felt the tight pain in his feet again, and his brow furrowed as he looked down and saw a familiar pair of black high heels on his feet that most definitely were not his. As he reached to pull them off with a grimace, a glinting of gold caught his eye and his eyes widened as he thrust his hand up to only inches from his nose, squinting at the metal band on the fourth finger of his left hand.

'How...?'

"Ungh..."

The groan from the figure face down on the bed showed his whisper hadn't been soft enough. But he was glad she was waking up, in hopes she might be able to provide answers, and not the ones his mind was insistent on hammering into his aching skull, now with images. A panicked confusion arrested his mind as he realized the images weren't mere groggy fantasies, but memories.

"Shego?" he said a bit more loudly.

Her hands flew to cover her ears as her body began to twist beneath his legs, and then she held her head as if in pain as another groan escaped her.

"What...? My head..."

She started to push upright and Drakken hurriedly removed his legs from her back. This action seemed to startle her to attention, and she sat bolt upright, eyes wide and blinking around them in confusion and fright.

"What? What hap— Dr. D.?"

He watched as she took in the room in mere moments, his nude form afterward, and then herself. Drakken snatched the only pillow left on the bed to cover himself, and then felt guilty as his eyes strayed lower than her face. It was all coming back to him. And he knew that every possible repercussion from what they had done involved him experiencing pain in some way.

What he hadn't expected, however, was for Shego to burst into tears.

"Sh...Shego?" he asked in confusion and concern as she buried her face in her hands, not even bothering to cover herself. His vision clearing at last, he glanced past her at the small purple pharmacy-type box on the nightstand with its colorful promises, and then at the mess on the floor.

The other pillows were everywhere, along with a blanket, their clothes, numerous empty and still sealed bottles of alcohol, and...a scattering of too many wrappers and used condoms.

Drakken swallowed as more and more images flooded back to his mind and tried desperately to calm his panic. He shifted closer to her and felt the tight pain again, and with a scowl he pulled her high heeled shoes off his feet and pushed them aside.

"Shego..." Drakken said again, this time his voice coming out choked and pained. He realized then his throat was hoarse. "Shego I'm sorry..."

Shego wiped her nose twice with the back of her hands, but her eyes remained closed as her bawling grew louder. Drakken glanced at where they sat and after a moment, tentatively tossed the sheet over her lap for a hint of modesty.

"I don't...I don't remember exactly how it started..." he continued, desperation beginning to take over as she wouldn't even acknowledge him. "I remember we were at the casino, and we were drinking... You ordered us two more shots after I'd said it was enough... But Shego please, please know...if I had thought for one instant you didn't want... That this wasn't... I know we were drunk, but you...you took us to the gift shop, and bought that box... You said you couldn't wait and so we got this room... I know I wasn't thinking straight but...but you wanted..."

Drakken trailed off as he wondered if Shego was even hearing him, her sobs continuing unfettered.

"I...I thought you... I know I was very drunk, but I'm...v-very...positive...that this was all your idea... And Shego it would have never, ever entered my mind to... Had I been sober I would have never dreamed of... Shego? Wh-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Drakken had expected rage, green flames, and a verbal assault at the very least. Not the endless streams of crocodile tears that kept falling down her face. Her hands remained uselessly in her lap as her shoulders shook with sobs, and glancing around, Drakken spotted a tissue box that had just avoiding falling off the nightstand—the lamp hadn't.

He leaned over and grabbed a few, and when he pushed them into her hands it startled her. She blinked down at them, and then up at him, her expression unreadable. Drakken bit his lip then as he cautiously reached over her shoulders and pulled her hair to her front to give her more modesty. Shego looked down at this, sniffled once, and then exploded into further sobs.

The panicked confusion continued to race across Drakken's nerves as he watched her cry, a response like nothing he'd ever seen out of his partner in crime save when under the influence of the Moodulator. And even that hadn't been this bad.

"Shego, I... I..."

Drakken finally hung his head with a heavy sigh. If she was so upset to not even...unleash her fury, he knew it was far too great a crime to forgive.

"I'm sorry, Shego," he said quietly, fidgeting lightly with the edge of the pillowcase. "You can...consider your contract fulfilled, and...you can have anything you want in severance. I... I'm so sorry."

He started to shift away from her, thinking to give her some privacy until she was ready to either unleash her fury or apparently leave him without so much as that. He wasn't prepared for her suddenly seizing his arm, and his breath caught. It was about to happen.

"I can't remember any of it," were the words that came from Shego's lips, choked and thick.

Drakken blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I've been trying..." Shego forced out through sobs, "to get you into bed...for two years... And it finally happened—"

Her eyes opened at last and glanced sideways into the room.

"Several times..."

Drakken followed her gaze and he bit his cheek in nervous confusion as he looked at the used condoms.

"And I can't remember any of it!"

Drakken relaxed, shifting nearer to her as she continued to cry, albeit less loudly, finally making use of the tissues he had offered. Once they were spent he hurriedly placed the box in front of her, and she took out another.

"Wait, Shego, you...you...wanted...to get me into bed?" Drakken finally asked, shaking his head in confusion—which he regretted instantly for the hangover.

"Mr. Can't Read Signals when they're literally right in front of his face," Shego grumbled.

"What signals?" he asked, still reeling from the idea that Shego was actually interested.

"All the flirting," Shego said plainly, her tears beginning to still.

"What flirting...?"

Shego looked up and narrowed her reddened eyes on him. "Are you really that dense?"

"Shego, what flirting!?" Drakken said, racking his brain for any time outside of her absurd behavior while under the influence of the Moodulator, either before or after given the time frame she indicated, that could have been considered flirting.

Shego scoffed. "You mean you didn't notice me leaning up into your space, getting so close I could blow on your ear, or putting my chest right at your eye level while you worked?"

Drakken had a flash of memory of times when Shego would suddenly be in front of him, blocking his view of what he was working on, or leaning between him and his tools, or whispering about nothing so close to him that he couldn't concentrate.

He blinked at her several times in succession as he realized...she was serious.

"...What?" Shego said, wiping her nose again and then hugging herself.

"I thought you were trying to annoy me," Drakken said.

"...What!?"

"I didn't know you were flirting! It...didn't come across that way," Drakken said, trailing off at the end as he saw the flashing of green eyes across from him.

Shego screamed. She threw her hands up in the air for a moment and then let them fall at her sides, seemingly finally spent of tears as she blinked at nothing on the bed sheets.

"Shego...why?" Drakken asked.

Shego began gathering the sheet up around herself to wear as a toga.

"Well if it isn't obvious now, blue bonehead, I have a major crush on you. But since the feeling isn't mutual I guess I'll just stop making a fool of myself and—"

Drakken's hand on her arm halted her words at the same time a gasped 'no' left his lips.

"Let me go!"

"Shego."

"This is humiliating enough," she said, struggling against his grip.

"Shego. Look at what happened."

Drakken gestured broadly to the mess of the room, and Shego followed his gaze. She blinked several times as she took in what to him was a very embarrassing scene, the room looking as if it had been trashed by a group of rowdy party-goers and not just defiled by a drunken couple in lust. Or...could it be more?

"Wh-What on earth made you think it wasn't mutual?" Drakken continued, his voice a mixture of nervous, embarrassed, and annoyed. "I've spent four years trying to hide my feelings for you."

"What?" Shego asked, her eyes snapping back to his.

Drakken looked down. "Yes, well... It wouldn't be appropriate, a boss and an employee..."

"Four years?" she said incredulously.

"Sorry," Drakken said, keeping his eyes on his slightly swollen feet.

It was quiet. And then, "Hmmm..."

Drakken looked up at Shego's thoughtful, almost playful tone.

"What?"

"Wouldn't be appropriate, you say?" Her tell-tale smirk was starting to return.

"No..." Drakken said, finding his mouth suddenly dry.

Shego grinned. "I quit."

"What!?"

"How many rubbers came in that box?"

Drakken blinked rapidly, his mind processing her intent so fast that he'd pounced on the purple box on the nightstand and was yanking its contents out onto the bed before he could realize he'd nearly knocked her down in the process.

"There's three left," he said, peering into the empty box as if more would somehow materialize at his will.

"Then put some clothes on and go buy some more," Shego said decisively.

"What, why?" Drakken asked in annoyance.

"Well I count nine all over this room," Shego said. Drakken's face flushed. "Since I can't remember any of that, we're going to have to make up for it all before we leave."

Shego scooped up Drakken's boxers from the floor by the bedside and tossed them at him.

Drakken grinned as he shimmied into them. As he did so, the light glinted off the gold of his ring, and he glanced over at Shego as she began tossing more of his clothes at him. A matching band adorned her slimmer finger. Drakken looked around, and for the first time he noticed the half-folded piece of paper stuck out of the drawer of the nightstand. His brow twisted with nerves but it couldn't stop his smile growing.

"I guess...this is a good time to point out we got married?" Drakken said.

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jae-canikeepyou · 3 years

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| letting go | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst (i don’t think it’s enough ;-; )

a/n: weeee this was rotting in my drafts for months, it’s not proof read (as always) haha :D

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the strong rush of winds together with falling sharp raindrops were painful, as if multiple arrows were aimed at you by a number of huntsmen— hiding behind woods, camouflaging themselves in order to not reveal their positions.

at this point, the droplets rather felt like hailstones than water. well what difference did it make? they still sliced your flesh like knives even if they were the condensed and frozen forms of liquid.

just as your body froze when you saw him with her.

almost the whole crowd turned heads to your way. looking back, the entire picturesque looked exactly like a bride entering a chapel for her walk at the aisle, except what happened earlier was the total opposite. it looked like you objected the bind of the new couple because believe it or not, whispers from all directions grew and there wasn’t an end to them. they spread so quickly that you didn’t bother to stop them.

you stood right in front of your boyfriend, right at the middle of the dance floor, whom he had his arms around a girl’s waist. to make you respond negatively and hurtfully, his fingers intertwined, not wanting to let her away from his touch.

in the depths of your heart, you hoped he would release her and run towards you in regret of his actions. but given the fact that they continued to sway along with the music like you never existed, it was obvious he was deliberately trying to make you flip off. sober or not, you already familiarised yourself with his habits and mannerisms in the years you’ve been with him. the smirk growing at the girl’s lips confirmed it was her plan, while the look on jaehyun’s face mirrored hers.

he was in for the game he wanted to play.

these whole three years, was there a day he thought about you, cared for you, or even loved you? did you actually mean anything to him? for him to easily leave you with another? the club music began to soften, not because everyone witnessed what was going on, but because your hearing was slowly deafening from the revelation before you. what you experienced at that moment; as if you were shoved underwater and let you drown in your fears of a breaking relationship.

it was breaking now, and you’re breaking apart now.

“jaehyun?” the once dear name left your lips and you stood there frozen. his shirt disheveled from the collarbone downwards along with a stupid missing vans shoe you gifted him for the anniversary a week ago. “you said you were going to..” you hissed, and swallowed the words back to avoid giving hints of sadness. “..nevermind.”

the girl snaked her arms around his neck. “oh y/n, finish your sentence.” she was high, her words slurred but was sober enough to pay attention to you. “that would mark as a closure with him, won’t it?” her giggles shrieking in amusement. what a sadist.

“ignore her. now, where were we?” jaehyun cupped her jaw to turn her attention away from you.

it took a minute or less to realise that your fists balled at his naughty, flirtatious grin he put out. you knew your skin already was dented with crescent marks you didn’t bother checking. with courage— the hesitating kind, you walked up to him to confirm your doubts that has been clouding your mind since you last saw him. the girl rolled her eyes, irritated at the fact you were quite persistent. jaehyun did the same. “so you’re just gonna dump me like that?” you pushed him on the chest.

“if you want to hear my answer, i can say it.” jaehyun gestured the girl to leave the both of you. “give us a minute.” he shoved his hands in his pockets to grab an item. it was a watch you got for him in the first year. thinking that he was to give it back, apparently, you thought wrong.

the silver watch fell to the ground with his gaze slowly rising from it to you. “i’m pretty much sober, but i was drunk when i agreed to be your boyfriend.”

“lies.” you gritted your teeth, not buying anything that came from his lips. “telling me you’re lying!”

“it’s the truth, y/n.” jaehyun said. it pissed you off when he had the audacity to bring your hair behind your ear, as if that would make you believe him. he lightly touched the edge of your chin, bringing it closer to his face. you shut your eyes hoping that this was all a dream, but it clearly wasn’t. “it’s all one-sided. it’s easy to understand by now yeah? i don’t love you.”

“jaehyun!” the girl singsonged as she returned, pulling him with impatience. “let’s go?”

you felt your throat going dry seeing both of their figures getting smaller in the distance. you couldn’t afford to be more mad because you knew that if you did, jaehyun still would never return to you. he already enjoyed the sight of you hurting, so what much more if you reacted to his plan? the long-term plan he plotted against a relationship he was to tear apart anyway?

the heart of yours that once pounded vigorously for him now probably skipped a beat or two, or more because you couldn’t keep track in counting. you just couldn’t. everything and all else in your peripheral began to blur in your own tears. and glad they did.

sometimes you’d like to think your heart had a mind of its own. it summoned your legs to leave the place when your mind was already completely blank, and you didn’t realise that you made yourself look vulnerable and desperate to everyone in that house.

even so, no one dared to come to comfort you despite knowing who you were: jaehyun’s now ex-girlfriend. they watched all of it happen like they do with most tv series. maybe they didn’t want to get involved with the drama. the rain started to pour and that was when you gave in into the depression you’ve held inside in the span of three minutes. great timing. no one would know i’m crying now. leave him be y/n.

walking towards home from here was better than taking a bus, you’d probably embarrass yourself. and grabbing a taxi would’ve been convenient, but most vehicles were occupied or drivers wouldn’t take in customers due to finished shifts. the only thing protecting you from the rain was your endurance and patience.

you continued running; away from the source of pain, escaping to wherever your half-conscious state brings you. you weren’t close to home yet.

what felt like hours only made your body temperature drop to its lowest.

a car pulled over just when your legs were to give in. you were in a daze that you weren’t aware of the vehicle honking at you. so the flickers of the headlights did the job better. the window rolled down that the person inside let out a gasp.

the slam of the door had you turning around. voices battling each other and it was surprising you could hear them bickering so clearly under the intense rainfall and loud thunderstorms. “give me a second! it’s y/n and she’s soaked!”

that certain voice warmed the freezing you which jaehyun caused. you turned around to see yuta, your best friend, removing his coat, quickly wrapping over your heads and led you straight into his car. “why are you out here alone?! where’s jaehyun?! is he not with you?!” he tsked, telling ten to drive back to the apartment.

between your sobs you let out a bitter and husky scoff, not wanting to hear or associate yourself with that name ever again. taeyong let you wear his scarf and lend you pocket warmers to add more body heat. “o-one..” you mumbled. “i-it was one-sided. he never l-loved me.”

your friends exchanged looks and were so ready to go to the bar where jaehyun was at, to beat the pulp out of him. “that bastard— ten, turn around! i’m beating the crap out of jaehyun!”

“n-no! please!” you hugged yuta and he froze at your plead. “it’ll cause more trouble than he already is!”

“y/n he wasted three years of your time just to play with your feelings!” yuta tried to see the bar behind the moist and droplets on the window. “and i won’t allow anyone to hurt you when he’s the trouble!”

your palms covered your eyes long as you tried to explain. “but he made his word and you know he’s the type to bring in more trouble! he has people on his back and you’re outnumbered..”

“y/n’s right, yuta. we can’t afford to fight all of them.” taeyong pat your head.

yuta slammed his clenched fists on the edge along with fits of his legs. “rgh!”

you were afraid of jaehyun leaving you, yet your bestfriend gave you the most fear since it wasn’t the first time he clashed with your lover. he was against the relationship, that you began dating an enemy of their frat and that it was risky. he warned you that they both had quite a rough history and would for sure have each other’s heads if they were to meet again.

and because your cries led to this, yuta was sure he wouldn’t let his once bestfriend near you.

ten suddenly stepped on the brakes followed with a yelp. slight screeches from the tires had everyone going forwards before hitting backs against the seats. “oh my g- is he dead?” kun sat up a little to see the figure trying to get up.

“who?” taeyong’s eyes widened.

“i think it was jaehyun.” ten pulled a lever to stop the windscreen wiper.

“ha! he deserved it!” yuta’s grin was menacing and chilled you to the bone, but you understood his reasons. and you were an idiot to not able to notice the relationship falling out until the last minute.

jaehyun yelled out your name several times, asking you to get off the car. you didn’t want to because what was the point? he didn’t love you so why did he want you back now? he was crying, but he could be drunk too.

when that wasn’t enough for jaehyun to get to you, he opened the car door, in which, wasn’t locked and managed to grab hold of yuta’s arm out of the vehicle, pulling you along with him out in the rain. “get back here y/n! you’re not going with yuta!” jaehyun yelled as he made you stand on your toes.

“she’s not going with you! jerk!” yuta quickly punched him in the face, causing jaehyun to fall.

you jumped in front of him, stopping yuta from more violence. “yuta please!”

but jaehyun punched him too. back and forth of fist fights.

taeyong and kun got off the car to join you prevent yuta. “dude quit it! let’s just bring y/n home!”

you pushed your way through and passed the boys, eyes asking your bestfriend to calm down. “y/n what the hell are you doing?! he’s drunk!” yuta grabbed your wrists. “why are you still going to talk to him?”

“i’m not doing this for him, i’m doing this for me.” you sniffed and the seriousness in your eyes made yuta let go. “i just need to make things clear to him one last time.”

“you’re stubborn but i’ll credit you for being brave. give you five ‘cause i’m counting.”

you didn’t care about getting sick. all you could think of was to bid that final farewell. it hurt when he wrapped you in his arms as if what happened earlier was nothing to him. as if breaking your heart was his cup of tea. “what do you want jaehyun?”

he mumbled. reeking of the remains of alcohol, you couldn’t stand him anymore. “i want you.”

“well i don’t.” you wriggled out of his hold. “i went out of my way to tell you to stay out of my life.”

he stared at you. it was different than before. he didn’t do this on purpose. three years with him was enough to know his moves and this was one of those that he was attentive now. “i still love—”

“no!” you sobbed and struggled to catch your breath, soon pushing his shoulder and though he didn’t budge, he probably got the message. “don’t start with that word! for all i care you could be the all-star player girls love— but you’re never ever going to win my heart again! you don’t even love me to begin with and you said it yourself!”

you brushed him as jaehyun tried to reach out for you. “how many trophies have you kept on your shelf, hm? i’d say five.. ah, twenty?” you stifle a sarcastic laugh. “am i one of the trophies you desperately want to get? how about that girl you’re with? is she part of the collection too?”

he stayed quiet, and you expected this anyway. “i’ll never be enough for you. goodbye jae.” you sighed.

jaehyun saw that yuta was already waiting. he had you in his arms, giving the middle finger at him before you both entered the car. it wasn’t that you fell short, it was him. indeed it was true that you were a prize he achieved, but even all-star players had their insecurities too. he just didn’t share with you, rather he chose not to.

because what would he get in return? just a little word of encouragement would make him feel better? no, of course not. he didn’t want that and you couldn’t give what he wanted from you. the car vanished in the distance.

so did your peripheral when you looked back.

some reason, you felt better. the company of your friends now were better than jaehyun, in all the three years combined.

“hey, y/n. you didn’t take five minutes.” yuta nudged you lightly. “he’s not worth it.”

you fell silent as you deleted a picture of jaehyun posing with his watch from a year ago. tears brimmed your eyes but you promised yourself just now to never cry because of him. “i’m gonna sleep. wake me up when we arrive home.”

yeah. you counted as well. it took three years to realise how dumb you actually were and how jaehyun wasn’t the person you knew but..

it took three minutes to decide to let him go.

#nct 127 #nct #jaehyun oneshot #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun imagines

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bas-writes · 3 years

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Henlo Bas! Here to use my free pass on your underrated characters box opening UwU! Super hyped, I absolutely L-O-V-E-D your Izo fluffs you did for the fluff event so I would humbly like to ask for some headcanons with him and GN reader. Reader suffers from nightmares and insomnia while he usually has a pretty decent sleeping schedule. He gets woken up by reader often to ask if they can sleep with him and sometimes they just sneak in without even asking. Much comfort and fluff! Sending you love!

Hazel, the Light of my Life ( ˘⌣˘)♡(˘⌣˘ )

I’m always happy to write some Izo fluff for you (so glad my previous ones were appreciated by the connoisseur uwu). I hope you will like this one as well :3

Dealing With S/O’s Sleeping Problems

Character: Izo Reader: gender neutral CW: nightmares

Whether you prefer to sleep with him or keep your distance and remain in your own for most of the nights, the door of Izo’s bedroom is always open for you. No matter when you would like to join, no matter if you want to talk with him or just curl on the bed without paying attention to him - it’s all fine for him. He prefers to keep his distance from the crew (they can be… handful) and cherishes the intimacy of his private cabin and bathroom, but as his partner you are given different rules. Izo considers you a part of his private household within the huge family of Whitebeard Pirates. Who would have something against their significant other moving free in their bedroom? Especially knowing they respect their needs and personal space and comfort zone? Izo trusts you, simply as that.

It’s true that he has almost a fixed schedule when it comes to work and relaxation time. He can stay awake if needed, but prefers his good eight hours of sleep a night, from ten to six. He truly appreciates his current high position of a division commander, since he doesn’t need to worry about night watches or sharing a cabin with other crewmates. Yeah, he is a light sleeper; sometimes a stronger wave is enough to set him wary. He always knows when you are awake or when you sneak to his bed for cuddles. It’s not your fault and he never blames you for waking him up. And even if it somehow was your fault, he frankly worries too much to care about his own discomfort.

Izo is smart and observant. He knows well when you start suffering from insomnia, even long before you start looking for comfort and his attention. He doesn’t pressure you to open about your problem, but is more cautious than usual about your condition and mood. He makes sure you know you can visit his bedroom whenever you want and without his permission. Even if his cabin is already very clean and pretty silent compared to other parts of the ship, he discreetly prepares it even more for your worse episode. Thicker curtains, clean sheets carrying the scent of calming aroma oils, your favorite pillows or plushies left within the reach of your hand, water and painkillers on the bed stand… Everything you would need is prepared and Izo lowkey starts having problems with sleep on his own, awaiting the moment you would break and finally come to him. He wants to be ready and help you as much as he can.

Old habits die hard though and Izo is snoring every time you slip inside. If you call him, he will wake up with the first call and immediately recognize you. If you try to sneak in without waking him up, the first steps of yours will switch him into the wary mood and once you climb the bed, he will have his eyes open. But he definitely won’t be as ready as he would love to. No matter how much he worries about you, he will resemble a half conscious kitten, sober enough to call you by your name, but also sleepy so much that he is ready to succumb back into dreams once you settle by his side. If you need his attention, you need to poke him or wiggle by his side. With a second call he loses interest in sleeping and pays his whole attention to you. But if you only need his presence, just let him wrap himself around you. Izo truly loves being the big spoon and goes for it whenever he has an opportunity. He prefers if you face him and snuggle to his chest, but is fine with embracing you from behind as well. Even if asleep, he plays with your hair all the time and his hands are very gentle for someone who is more used to handling guns than something as delicate as the body of his partner. Such comforting, innocent touch is a huge help and often is that push that finally makes you fall asleep.

When you have a nightmare, Izo often wakes up before you, since your squirming and noises you make alarm him. He always wakes you up, if you didn’t follow him immediately. There’s no use for you to continue this horrible dream; he’s here for you to bring you back to reality and comfort you. Izo doesn’t turn the lamp on, worried sudden light might spook you even more, but will light some candles once he makes sure you are not asleep anymore and not panicked. If you drink alcohol, he will offer you a glass of umeshu or other light and sweet liquor to help you relax. If not, he always has a kettle and tea close at hand and will help you with a cup. He also hugs you all the time or at least holds your hand. Izo makes sure you know he is with you. He talks to you, he caresses you, if he needs to leave you alone for some reason, he covers you with a piece of his clothing so at least his scent can comfort you. Once you are ready to go back to bed -even if you don’t wish to sleep yet- he pulls you close to his chest and lets you listen to his heartbeat. Even when stressed and worried, Izo controls his emotions almost perfectly, so his heart is so calm it almost can serve as asmr.

Either you are suffering from insomnia or from a nightmare, if he’s awake with you, he often sings. Those are old melodies, ones he remembers from his childhood - exotic songs you have never heard sung by anyone but him. He’s maybe not the best singer you have heard, but his voice has a nice timbre and, if hummed, works better than a sleeping pill. Even if it won’t put you to sleep, it’s a huge help with relaxation. He’s more than happy to teach you words and melody, so you can humm together, tangled in sheets and each other’s limbs - until everything is calm and all right not scary anymore.

If the reason behind your insomnia and nightmares lie in your mental struggle or problems, Izo is always there to hear you out and offer help. He suggests you to talk about it with Marco as well - he might not be a psychiatrist, but there’s a chance the reason behind your struggle is neurological and thus, solvable by his flames. All the time Izo is by your side and shows you his love even more openly than usual. While not really a big fan of PDA, he won’t hesitate from a gentle hand grasp or a discreet hug or even a gentle kiss on cheek whenever he sees you tired or stressed. It doesn’t matter if your problem is easy to solve or not, if it happens rarely or is a chronic struggle - he is there for you. And won’t let you down in need.

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #izo x reader #izo imagine #izo #bas writes #gender neutral reader

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beautifultypewriter · 4 years

Text

Arthur Shelby Fluff Alphabet

Requested: Yes / by my absolute fav @fandom-puff and also an anon

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol and Arthur’s issues

Full credit to whoever created this template (I still don’t actually know who that is). Gif credit to the owner. Also, I changed the prompt for letter Q from quaint to quickstep.

Also, I love this gif? It’s so soft.

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Arthur loves your hands. He loves the softness of them and the gentleness of your touch. He finds so much comfort in standing before you, your hands resting gently on his face as his eyes slip closed and he holds your wrists. Then you start to rub small circles on his cheekbones, and he swears he could die a happy man right then and there. He loves taking your hands into his and he especially loves to press kisses to your knuckles and palms.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Absolutely wants to have babies with you. He thinks you’d be the most incredible parent and he can’t wait to see you with your children. Family is extremely important to Arthur and he wants to have one of his own, so he’s down for kids whenever you are. There is that little voice in the back of his head telling him that he’s going to turn out like his own father, but it’s quickly silenced by you. Arthur sees how strong and caring you are and he knows that he can do anything so long as you’re right there by his side.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He’s all limbs and he’s lean, but he loves to cuddle. Usually, the two of you only ever cuddle when you get into bed after a long day. You two face each other and he’ll pull you close to his chest. One of his legs will tangle with yours and his hands will move to the back of your head, getting tangled in your hair. Your hands will rest on his chest or cup his face and it’s so quiet and peaceful that he never wants to leave.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Arthur is more into low-key dates. He will, on occasion, take you to a fancy night club, but those nights are few and far between. He prefers more quiets nights with you where he doesn’t have to fight other people for your attention. The two of you go to the Garrison a lot and sit in the private room, drinking and talking. Arthur loves to take you for drives around the country because it gives the two of you the chance to be alone (which is his favorite). Honestly, though, Arthur will pretty much do whatever you want, so you two have gone on a lot of different types of dates.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

Home.

You are the most important person to Arthur. You are warm and safe, and you don’t judge him. These are all things that Arthur associates with the perfect home, so to him you are the perfect home. He doesn’t need much else if you’re there.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Arthur first knew he was in love with you the first time he brought you home to meet his family. The Shelby family is a bit chaotic and can be a bit intimidating, especially to people who haven’t known them for years, so Arthur was a little bit nervous to be bringing you to dinner at Polly’s. He didn’t want them all to scare you away. He was pleasantly surprised when you not only held your chin up the entire time, but you were kind to everyone, treating them like they were any normal family and like you weren’t frightened of them at all (which he later learned you really weren’t). Arthur watched you sit at the dinner table and hold your own with Polly and Tommy and he watched you smile at everyone and ask them questions and he just knew. He knew that you would fit perfectly into his life and he only hoped that he’d fit perfectly into yours as well.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Arthur tries so hard to be gentle with you. He has his issues. He knows this, but he would never intentionally hurt you, so he takes extra care to be gentle. Sometimes, if Arthur’s had a bad day, he’ll hold you a bit too tightly. He doesn’t mean to do it and he’s quick to loosen his grip, his movements becoming slower and more purposeful. He just wants to be as gentle with you as you are with him.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Arthur absolutely adores the feeling of your hand in his. He will take any moment he can to hold your hand and he does not care if it’s inappropriate for the situation. Family meetings? You’re sat next to him and Arthur has your hand clasped in his. Walking home from the Garrison? Arthur has a tight hold on your hand as the two of you stumble down the cobblestones. Arthur’s hands are always really warm, so if your hands are cold then he will happily warm them for you.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

When Arthur first saw you, his thought was that you didn’t quite fit into Small Heath. You were this light that stood out from the gray smog and he wondered what you were doing in such a dull place. What had brought you here? When you smiled at him, though, he found that he didn’t quite care, he was only glad that you were there.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Oh yes. Arthur has a lot of insecurities and he’s not always in the right headspace. This can translate into jealousy if he sees other people trying to make a move on you. His first instinct is always to storm over and pick a fight with the offender. Whether or not he actually does this depends on how much alcohol he has consumed. Drunk Arthur almost never makes good decisions, so if he’s had a lot to drink and he sees someone flirting with you, you can bet that he’s going to start throwing punches. He always feels really bad about it later and he avoids your gaze out of shame. Sober (or Mostly Sober) Arthur has better impulse control, so he’s able to hold himself back a bit. He still storms over, but he gives the offender the chance to back off before he gets physical. He wraps an arm around your waist and tells you that you look beautiful. All of this stems from the thought of losing you which is the scariest thing to Arthur. He can’t lose you and if his brain is muddled then he’s willing to do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen. He knows it’s wrong though and he’s promised to control himself, which he is making progress with, it’s just going to take some time for him.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Arthur’s kisses are usually needy and fast at the start, but they always melt into something deep and comforting. He wants to be as close to you as he can whenever he can and that comes out in his kiss. Once he’s had a minute to relax and melt into you, though, he’s much calmer and he’s able pull back a bit and gain better control.

You initiated the first kiss. Arthur had come over to your place for dinner and he had been exceptionally quiet, obviously nervous about something. You had found the entire evening comical as he tried to hold a normal conversation with you, but getting tongue tied at the oddest moments. Finally, you just looked into his eyes, “I’m going to kiss you now, Arthur.” And you leaned across the table and pressed your lips to his. He was shocked, but he kissed you back, chasing your lips as you pulled away. You smirked at him, “Feel better?” He nodded and lunged across the table, capturing your lips again.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He did. It was after he had been in some fight that you didn’t ask too many questions about and you were patching him up in your kitchen. He had stumbled through the door and you quickly grabbed your first aid kit and sat him down in one of the chairs. It was quiet between the two of you as you cleaned the blood from his face, slowing your movements when you noticed him wince. He watched you intently as your eyes roved over his face, not once meeting his eyes. That’s when Arthur grabbed your wrists, halting your movements and causing you to look into his eyes. He leaned into your hands, “I love you.” You smiled at him, watching his eyes close before pressing your palms lightly against his cheeks. His eyes flew open and you nodded at him, “I love you too, Arthur.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Arthur’s favorite memory is of the moment the two of you first met. You were walking down Watery Lane and he had been so distracted by you that he accidently bumped into you and almost knocked you to the ground. He cursed himself and made sure you were okay, getting ready to scurry away, embarrassed, but you stopped him. And you smiled at him and he felt a flutter in his chest, and he knew he needed to see that smile again. This is his favorite memory, the first time you smiled at him.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He tries to because he’s Arthur and he feels like he needs to take every opportunity to show you how much he loves you. Usually he buys you gifts when he’s done something wrong and he’s working hard to make it up to you. You always try to tell him that it’s unnecessary, but he just brushes you off with a smile and a kiss to the temple, telling you that nothing is too good for you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Pink

You are light and comforting and full of love. When Arthur looks at you, he is reminded of everything good and wonderful and a certain softness overtakes him. A softness best associated with the color pink.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

‘Love’ is a big one with Arthur. He just loves you so much, he has to let you know (by literally calling you love – he isn’t subtle). He calls you ‘love’ all the time, it kind of just slips out after your name, “Y/N, love.” Another one that Arthur likes is ‘darling.’ He doesn’t use this one as much as ‘love’ which actually makes it a bit more special when it slips past his lips. This is the one that is mostly used in private. His family has heard him say it maybe twice, but you’ve heard it much more. Arthur gets teased a lot for the pet names, but it will never stop him from using them.

Q = Quickstep (How do they feel about dancing?)

Arthur definitely loves to watch you dance. On occasion, he will take you out to a fancy nightclub and watch you dance. He loves to see how happy and relaxed you become while you sway to the music. You always try to get him to join you, but he shakes his head, saying he’s fine just enjoying the show. This never fails to make you roll your eyes at him and you decide to go back to dancing. Later that night, when the two of you stumble into your home, your shoes in Arthur’s hand, he pulls you close to him. The two of you slow dance on the living room rug, your bodies pressed close together and Arthur’s breath fanning over your face. There’s no music, but you don’t need it; you’re fine with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

The two of you love a rainy day because everything seems to just slow down. Neither of you are in any rush to get going, so you sleep late and take your time getting up. Arthur steals a few kisses as the two of you cuddle in bed. You make a big breakfast and the two of you sit across from each other, listening to the sound of rain as you enjoy your tea. Arthur smiles over at you every five minutes and when the two of you are done eating, you move into the other room where you sit on the sofa together and talk. Arthur builds a fire to keep you warm and he makes sure that you’re comfortable on the sofa.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Arthur had never been one to try and cheer himself up. He was always one to drown his feelings in a bottle and wake up the next morning, push the headache aside and get back to business. Then you came along, and Arthur started to actually talk about his feelings. He was still pretty guarded, but he let you in enough that just talking to you made him feel better. Kisses never hurt either. When you see that Arthur is caught in his feelings, you place yourself in his lap, your hands gently cupping his face, and you press your lips to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips. When you’re sad, Arthur just goes straight for cuddles. He knows you like to physically feel that someone is there for you, so he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your neck.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Other than your day to day talking, the two of you do most of your talking at night when it’s just the two of you tucked away at home. At this time, Arthur asks you to tell him stories. Stories about your childhood or stories about what you see in the future. He loves stories and he loves to lay his head in your lap and listen to you tell them. You always make sure that he knows he can talk to you about anything. He’s usually a bit hesitant to open up about the war or the business, but there have been a few times where the weight of it all was just too much and so he shared some deep feelings with you. You listened closely and offered comfort and it was a really beautiful moment for him to be able to trust you like that. He knows he can tell you anything and you’d never leave him.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

In order for Arthur to relax, he needs to be away from other people, in a quiet place, and with no chance of interruptions. Arthur’s mind runs a mile a minute, so it can be difficult for him to calm down. In the past, he turned to alcohol to slow his mind and to numb his body, so that he could find some peace. Now, he tries to use alcohol less frequently because he knows that it’s messing with his time with you. Instead he just tries to find a quiet place where he can cuddle with you and turn his brain off.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

You. Arthur thinks you are the most amazing person in the world and he still can’t believe that you chose him over everyone else and he loves to talk about that fact. Probably more than he should, but he can’t help it. It’s not even like he’s bragging, he’s more in awe than anything else. He still gets on everyone’s nerves though when he gushes about you and how he really doesn’t deserve you, but he has you anyway and that’s amazing.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Arthur took you on a long drive through the country, pulling over by a babbling brook and putting the car into park. It was quiet between the two of you for some time. You were enjoying the peace and the scenery and Arthur was trying to work up the courage to pull the ring from his pocket. You had noticed his fidgeting, buy you said nothing about it, knowing that he would tell you what was going on when he was ready. The sun was starting to set and from the corner of your eyes, you saw Arthur’s hands moving. You figured he was starting the car up, getting ready to head home. You were wrong though as you saw him turn his body to face yours. As you moved to face him, he started his speech about how you were the best thing to ever happen to him and he didn’t want to spend a single moment without you. Then he pulled out the ring and asked you to marry him. You wiped away the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye and nodded, a quiet ‘yes’ passing your lips.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Hard to Love – Lee Brice

(I defy anyone to listen to this song and not immediately think of Arthur.)

Arthur knows that he’s not the easiest person to deal with and he knows he makes things difficult sometimes, but he’s so grateful to you for loving him. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he loves that you stay with him. He sees the two of you as opposites in a sense and he wishes he was more like you, softer and gentler, so that he could be someone who deserves you. You always tell him that he’s the perfect amount of soft and strong though.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

There is so much love between the two of you that it’s no surprise that Arthur wants to put a ring on your finger. He wants the two of you to be a “proper” family, married with kids and together forever. Now, just because he knows he wants to marry you, it doesn’t mean he’s any good at asking. He’s nervous and worried that you’ll say no, so it takes him some time to actually pop the question, but once he does, he’s completely elated as he hears your “Yes.”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Arthur wants to get a big dog to keep you company around the house when he has to go out for business. He’d also like to think of this dog as some form of a guard dog, so he knows you’ll have someone that has your back when he can’t be there.

#arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcanons #fluff alphabet

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fvrxdrm · 4 years

Text

City of the Living Dead

Chapter 1

“Y/N, wake up!”

Carlos yelled at you to wake you up and shook your still sleeping form violently. Your eyes abruptly shot open after hearing his full-throated voice, your E/C orbs immediately landing on the face of the man hovering above you.

You scanned his face, still not fully aware of your surroundings due to your sleepiness but as time went on and your brain had sobered up a bit, you noticed that he didn’t look calm and balmy like how he usually was, he looked...agitated which mirrored the way he shouted at you.

“Carlos?” You muttered, your mouth barely opening as the rest of your body was still putting itself together.

“Come on. We gotta get out of here”, Carlos said as he unlatched all of the metal straps holding you down onto your bed using the computer that was situated on a wooden desk a few feet away from you.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” You asked, confused as to why the soldier was jittery all of a sudden.

You forced yourself to sit up with both of your hands aiding you as you struggled to do the simple action. It had been a long time since you’ve done it anyway. Those stupid scientists would not let you.

“Would you believe me if I told you that a zombie apocalypse is happening?”

Now that woke you up.

“What?”

Zombie apocalypse? How’d that happen? Don’t those things happen in like movies or something?

“The city’s in total chaos. Don’t know how it happened but it is... Listen, we’re the only two left in here. The rest of our team members are looking for other survivors and something we could use to get out of here”, Carlos replied as he draped your arm around his shoulders and wrapped one of his own around your waist to help you stand up since your legs felt like jelly at that moment.

“What about my sister?” You questioned, remembering that your sister was taken with you.

“I haven’t seen your sister yet so I guess her bodyguard helped her out”

“Do you know who her bodyguard is?”

“No. Those information are also confidential for some unknown reason. Can you walk?”

“I think so”, you slowly slid your arm off of Carlos’ shoulders as you carefully took a few steps to your right side, Carlos’ arm still not leaving your waist until he was sure that you got the hang of it.

“Alright, I’m ready”, you spoke after a few seconds of finding your balance.

“Not quite. You still need to change your clothes. Wouldn’t want to go out in the wild like that, would we?” Carlos uttered as he gestured his hand towards your skimpy hospital gown that had a deep v going dangerously down below your breasts, showing off your cleavage.

Why the fuck is my gown this revealing?

“Right. Where will I get some clothes?”

“I think we got some in the locker room”

“Okay, let’s go then”

“Come on, I’ll lead the way”, Carlos motioned for you to follow him as he opened the white door, looking back towards where you were to make sure that you were trailing right behind him.

*****

“We’re here”

Carlos swiped the key card that he had been holding onto since he entered your room into the key slot located on the right side of the locker room’s door and waited until the light beside the slot turned green before pushing the metal door open.

“Ladies first”, Carlos spoke with a smile as he raised his arm towards the room that was full of lockers (duh) and some benches, his free hand still placed on the door to keep it from slamming pancakes into your faces.

“It better not be to check out my ass”, you snickered as you strolled inside the room, immediately checking every locker in hopes of getting some new clothes to change into ‘cause the hospital gown you were wearing was a fashion no-no.

“Nah. I’m too manly to do that”, Carlos said back as he followed you inside, closing the door right behind him after doing so.

“What a gent”

“I tend to be”

Carlos helped in finding you new clothes, searching lockers after lockers until he finally found a plain black tank top, a (F/C) (sports/balconette/demi/whatever you like) bra, a pair of ripped black denim shorts, a denim jacket, and a pair of black combat boots.

Perfect.

“Hey, Y/N, I got something that might fit you”, Carlos mouthed aloud as he held the neatly folded clothes with both hands right in front of you.

“Thanks”

You quickly grabbed the clothes that were placed on top of his palms before entering the small area that was covered by a white curtain.

“So, what’s the plan, hero?” You asked the mop-headed soldier in order to break the slightly awkward silence that filled the room as you changed into the new clothes that Carlos found as quickly as possible.

“Like I said, my teammates are looking for something we could use to get the hell out of here but they sure are taking their sweet time”, Carlos replied as he shook his head, his back turned to where you were as if he could see your naked body through the curtain even though he could literally only see your silhouette. What an actual gentleman.

“What’s it like up there?”

“A shit-hole. This place is full of zombies and shit. There’s also this giant-ass dude just roaming around. You wouldn’t wanna see it”

“But I have to if I want to get out of here”

“Yeah... Listen, once we get out of this facility, you stay right behind me. Wouldn’t want you to get lost”, you chuckled at his remark, your head shaking a bit as you did so.

He’s like an over-protective big brother or something.

“How would I get lost in this place? I mean, I grew up here in Illinois. I basically know every twists and turns in this place”, you said as you put the pair of shorts on, making sure that the bottom of your tank top was tucked inside your trousers.

Unseen by you, though, Carlos’ face fell as he heard those words come out of your mouth.

Shit, she doesn’t know?

“Y/N...”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not in Illinois”

Your heart dropped.

Your hands stopped tugging on your jacket and your eyes widened by themselves as you stood still, frozen in place.

“What?” You finally spoke after a minute of silence as you practically yanked the curtain open and stepped out of the tiny space, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as you stomped towards the man.

“Y/N, you’re in Raccoon City. Did nobody tell you that”, Carlos said as he turned around to face you, his face mirroring the look you were giving him.

“No”, you shook your head from one side to another as you said that one word to emphasize what you were saying since you were not sure if he had heard you at all for the reason that your voice sounded barely above a whisper as you spoke.

You stayed silent, taking in the newfound information you got from the male right in front of you.

Your brain scrambled a million thoughts together as bewilderment flooded inside your head. But even so, one question kept nagging you every time you woke up on top of the leather-topped bed you were placed and strapped on.

“How long was I in here?” You asked.

You were nervous as hell for some unknown reason but you were itching to know the answer.

What if I was in here for like a month? Are my friends worried?

Slowly, your heart began to pound in your chest, the sound becoming louder and louder until you could hear its hammering ringing inside your ears. You were starting to think that Carlos could hear the anxiety you were feeling even though you didn’t let it out verbally.

Please don’t be too long, please don’t be too long...

“One year”, Carlos finally responded after a few seconds of heavy silence.

Your heart dropped into your stomach again and you sure as hell heard it shatter into a million pieces after hearing those words come right out of his mouth.

“One year?”

“Yeah... Hey, don’t cry. Your pretty face might get ruined”, Carlos said as he wiped the stray tear that you didn’t even notice away with his calloused thumb and attempted to comfort you but it was no use. Your heart broke at those two words.

One year? That’s how long I was gone? That’s even worst than a month! How the hell was I missing for that long!?

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to bring you back to Illinois. If it makes you feel a bit more at ease, I snatched this bracelet and this necklace from Dr. Birkin’s office. Thought these might be really important to you”, Carlos spoke again as he took out a customized bracelet with your friend’s name on it and a silver necklace that had a(n) (birthstone) stone attached into a metal framing from one of his pockets.

You gently took the bracelet from his hand before reading the four letters that were written on each tiny cube bead.

Leon

God, how is he feeling right now?

You wondered.

Out of all the friends you’ve had, Leon was the most over-protective of them all. You didn’t know why he was like that but you were kind of glad that someone genuinely cared about you even though most of the time it was the cause of your arguments.

You see, you and Leon have been best friends since birth and so were both of your mothers. For some reason, your mother and his decided that it would be a good idea to get pregnant at the same time and then BOOM! You and Leon were born.

I’m so sorry, Leon.

“Hey, I don’t know who this Leon kid is but don’t worry, I’ll bring you back to him, too”, Carlos uttered out loud as if he could read your own random thoughts. He circled around you to place your necklace around your neck, making sure that he wouldn’t snip even a tiny part of your skin as he clasped the hooks together. You smiled.

“Thanks, Carlos. I owe you one”

“No problem, kiddo. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Yeah, and you were glad that you had one in that hell-hole of a facility you were in.

---***---

Ayo! Chapter 1, wuz good?! I'm sorry this was kind of rushed. I was busy with dance and all that stuff🤣

Anyways, how was it? Did you like it? Did you not?

#leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leonxreader #leon kennedy x you #leon+kennedy+fanfic #leon+kennedy+imagine #residentevil2 #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfic #resident-evil-fanfic #resident evil #resident evil 3 #resident evil 2 #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira #jill valentine

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semi-anonyme · 3 years

Text

November 3, 2020

12:05pm

I woke up at 7:00am today and I knew a few things: 1.) I would buy a Vitamix and begin to make smoothies every day 2.) I would stop holding onto the past 3.) It would be my last entry on this tumblr

Today, it is Election Day. I am very much hoping Joe Biden will win, not just for my sanity but for everyone’s sanity, for a little hope in humanity’s fight against the allure of anti-intellectualism, scapegoating, its growing tolerance of hate.

I remember the last election day, or rather, the evening. We all thought Hillary would win uneventfully. I remember my colleague dipping out of work early to go to the Javits Center to celebrate her victory. I remember watching in disbelief from my basement computer, walking upstairs with my eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Are you watching the news right now Mike?” “Yeah, Trump is in the lead. It looks like he’s about to win Pennsylvania (or was it Michigan? Or Wisconsin?)” I walked to bed in disgust, woke up in disgust, confirmed my disgust.

There was not one conversation I heard on the train or in the street that day that didn’t involve Trump. That night, I drank alone at Three Diamond Door. I still remember the buff black dude sitting in the corner downing Bell’s Two Hearted IPAs.

Anyway, election day 2020. I’m going out to vote in about 2 hours. I got today off. Thanks, progressive companies.

I’ve had a lot of internal discussions with myself on here, published them as blog posts. I have timestamps to remember them by, I’m glad. In the past ~8 months since the pandemic began, I’ve gone back to a lot of my entries -- oh, this is what it was like in the beginning in March. Oh yes, May, I was indeed watching a lot of K-Dramas, it was getting hotter. Ahhh yes, I did learn a lot about not having the city as my crutch.

Just in general, on this blog, on the countless loose leaf papers in my journal, I’ve had these battles about meaning. This blog pre-dates seeing Jody my therapist, who I’ve been seeing faithfully for over 1.5 years now.

I could go on. The point I’m making rn in this last entry is this -- all that stuff is in the past, it was important, I internalized it. Now it’s time to move on. I’m glad this exists, these 450 entries exist, they exist with a purpose. But now? I know who I am, what I want to be.

I have no dilemma of engineering vs artistry. Now that I’ve been away from loud bars, I have no FOMO about the nightlife. It’s kinda just time to start from scratch, this knowledge.

I just created a new tumblr, domo-knows. I’ll likely have a companion YouTube channel in the future. Anyway, a few and somewhat ambiguous bullets for myself since, you know, this blog was always just for me.

ON THINGS I’M LEAVING BEHIND ACTIONS 1. Random drinking. Today, I’m going to buy an Other Half Finback IPAs, pop them open around 8pm and start watching election results. I’ve gone into detail before about drinking, but just to sum it up, drinking alcohol is the one thing I can say captures how complex and funny it is being a human -- how we use it socially, justify it, cling onto it, how it becomes tangled up in our highest achievements and our most shameful insecurities. I’ve consumed alcohol for these various reasons in my life:

a.) I was avoiding doing something difficult b.) I didn’t want to be alone in my room, and preferred the loud chatter of conversations and music at a cramped bar c.) I did not trust my social abilities sober, so I drank alcohol because I’ve never known anyone who has not liked me when I’ve had a couple (when I’m shit-faced, another story) d.) To hook up with a girl e.) I was bored f.) I was about to do something boring and wanted to make it more exciting g.) Because it was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for a beer on a patio h.) Because it was a cold and dreary day, perfect to brood over a Manhattan i.) I was lonely j.) My life was going too well, I wasn’t used to that, and I needed something to question k.) My life was going poorly, and I needed something to cheer me up for the evening l.) I needed to make a decision, so I drank alcohol and wrote in my journal and came to a good decision that I stuck with m.) I needed to make a decision, so I drank alcohol until I no longer cared, and the decision was punted off until the next day n.) I I needed to make a decision, I thought a drink or two would jigger my thought process, but I ended up getting distracted by something my drunk self was interested in, and the decision was punted off until the next day I’d come up with more but they’re all just variations of that and who wants to read more of that? 2. Eating sugary sweets, justifying it by saying I have “an addiction” I actually never cared for sweets until high school. Most birthday cake I had was gross, my parents bought Chips Ahoy or Oreos which tbh aren’t all that great, and I was never exposed to really good pastries until I was in college. In high school, I dropped a buncha weight entirely too quickly and I ended up with a fats and sweets “addiction” that I’ve “had ever since”. This is a common thing.

I’ve held it close to me mentally -- my “sweets addiction”. I didn’t question it, it was something I just had, something to hang onto for the rest of my life because I fucked up when I was younger.

But as I’ve gotten older, I understand that these things -- addictions -- serve purposes. They keep us comfortable in what we deem to be true of ourselves. They (poorly) provide temporary breaks from incessant mental gymnastics/fatigue. Anyway, blah blah, big sweeping declarations, blah blah, I’ve done that all before. But when I woke up today, I knew I would get a Vitamix like I’ve been talking about for years, and I made a decision to stop holding onto this. I always eat 2 meals a day with a wild west assortment of things in between, cake and cookies and granola bars and Halloween candy. Now, 2 meals and a protein smoothie/juice.

Let them muscles grow bb. Feel good about my body, treat it like the fucking temple it is.

3. Dicking around on the internet I enjoy reddit. I enjoy wikipedia. I also end up on these sites when I’m avoiding other major responsibilities and uncomfortable feelings. I know what I want: it involves a lot of deep practice. I could read about programming all day and I’d be fascinated -- you know, the history of Silicon Valley, Introduction to the Rust Programming language, new JavaScript frameworks, discussions on HackerNews about The Best Way to Build Something. But nothing beats getting your hands dirty. Nothing beats poring over source code, running into strange errors, resolving them, moving on, over and over ad nauseam until lo-and-behold, you are an expert.

I can read about music, listen to raps over and over, but nothing beats analyzing a verse over and over and actually hearing the syllables landing on, falling behind the beat.

I’m here to structure my day. I know what I want. Expertise, pride, and know-how. A differentiated skillset so I can collaborate with other differentiated skillsets. Good taste, a feeling of belonging. All that shit, all I ever wanted but didn’t know until recently. THOUGHT PATTERNS 1. FOMO What is it with being a human -- a Man, especially (sorry is that sexist, but also, not sorry) -- that makes us believe that everyone has everything we have and more? That we are the base model without power windows, and everyone else is an upgrade? I love going on walks in New York City. I love riding the trains in New York City. But while some of this love is healthy spectatorship, much of what I’ve engaged in is unhealthy envy.

I’m done with that though. I know what I like. And I know I have a dope life. And I know that I’m a good person to know, that people may have different qualities than me but I also have different qualities from them. I’m cool with my small close-knit friends. 2. INDECISION I kinda expanded on this above. I know what I want, and all questioning I’ve done (especially recently) has been my effort to save myself from doing the work, save myself from having to declare what I am. 3. ENGAGING IN FEELINGS OF BEING LATE I am 31 years old. This is something I know to be true: there is a 13-year old who can program circles around me. There is a kid who can play a rendition of Misty on piano so soulful that it’ll bring a tear to my eye. There is nothing, technically (as in, technical expertise), that I can do that can’t be done by anyone else. But I do believe in my taste and I do believe in my life experiences. And I do believe that whatever I create can only be mine, have my signature, and I think that whatever I create in this world that I’m proud of is going to be good. That’s a fact, and I’m going into the future with that as a fact.

Farewell, semi-anonyme Anyway, I was going to write more but I wanna get going, more to do. I’ve got some work to do, some voting to do, some writing to do, some planning to do.

I love you all. See you on the other side.

#self #text post #semi anonyme goals #farewell

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miguel-manbemel · 4 years

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Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 31: Royal Fears

With this new entry of this fanfic inspired on Sanders Sides by Thomas Sanders, Joan S. and the Foster Dawg Team, I’m starting a new phase on the format. My idea is to slowly move away from mimicking the format of a real Sanders Sides episode and start experimenting with other formats. In past episodes, there were four rules I always adhered to: I would use a script format (this won’t change, it will still be written as a script, even if it’s conceived to be read and not to be filmed), Thomas would always be present and center of the story, except in the ending cards (which forced me to use the gimmicks of the flashbacks, the orbs, etc), there would be an opening trying to make a short gag of some kind, and there would be an ending card in the style of the one featured at the end of Embarrasing Phases, some scene of the Sides in the Mind Palace foreshadowing future episodes. Some of these will stay, others may not. I want to try experimenting with the Asides format, introducing real ellypsis during the plot, maybe scenes without Thomas present, I don’t know, something to make the plot more dynamic and less rigid. We’ll see how it goes. Well, enough ranting. I’m leaving you with the new episode and I hope you enjoy it.

SYNOPSIS: Two of Thomas’ friends ask Roman for help and when he can’t fulfil their needs, they ask Chris instead, who excels in them. That makes Roman feel insecure and a bit jealous of his own son in spite of him.

WARNINGS: Romantic prinxiety, mentions to romantic dukeceit, even though Remus is not present in this episode. Angst.

EPISODE INDEX

[Thomas is writing something on his laptop, when someone knocks at the door]

THOMAS: That must be Dominic, he told me he would come over to ask me for something. I wonder what it is. [closing his laptop] Oh, well, this new Cartoon Therapy script for the episode after the one Adri was working in will have to wait. As well as the other eleven projects for the upcoming shorts, the next scripts for the two following episodes based on my life with the Sanders Sides, the notes I had to take so that I could tell Foti what we must improve for the following music show we’re working into… oh, yes, and I had to answer all these emails about upcoming sponsored jobs… Well, all of that will have to wait. Isn’t it weird that some people out there say that I’m not releasing anything while my friends tell me that I work too much? Oh, well, who’s right or wrong, who’s to say? That sounds familiar… Never mind.

[Thomas puts the laptop on the couch and goes to open the door]

[intro sequence]

DOMINIC: Hi, Thomas.

THOMAS: Hi, Dominic. How are you doing?

DOMINIC: Fine, thanks. I hope I’m not interrupting you. I’m sorry I just called you this morning, but I kinda need your help.

THOMAS: Oh, of course. Is there any trouble?

DOMINIC: No, no, everything’s fine. I meant that I need your help for some little project of mine. If you’re not too busy, that is.

THOMAS: I was working on something, but don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty of time till the deadline, and this moment of recess will be refreshing for me.

DOMINIC: Good. You know you can call me anytime, should you need any kind of assistance for that project, right?

THOMAS: Of course, thank you. But now tell me how can I be of assistance for you.

DOMINIC: In fact, it’s not exactly your help what I need. I need Roman’s help.

THOMAS: Roman’s help? Of course. I’ll call him right now. Roman! Could you come here, please?

[Roman rises up with his iconic princely pose]

ROMAN: [singing the first word in a G4] I-I-I-I-I’m here, Thomas… Oh, hi Dominic, it’s been ages.

DOMINIC: Yes, it has.

THOMAS: I’m calling you because Dominic needs you, Roman.

ROMAN: Well, I’ll be glad to rescue you however I can, Dominic. How can I be of service to you?

DOMINIC: [confused] Rescue… me? Oh, well. Roman, would you mind modeling for me?

ROMAN: Oh… I was born to be a model. Do you need me to wear Gucci, Dolce, Versace…? Let me warn you, when I wear a tuxedo, James Bond has to stir his Martini because he’s too shaken by my handsomeness…

DOMINIC: I was thinking more of a princely modeling. If I wanted that kind of modern modeling, I could have just asked Thomas himself.

THOMAS: [giggles bashfully] Oh, come on, I’m not a model…

DOMINIC: That’s not what your Instagram posts are showing, Thomas. You’re good looking, don’t belittle yourself.

THOMAS: Thank you, that’s flattering…

ROMAN: Well, what kind of project are we talking about exactly? Maybe if I know what you’re thinking on, I could be of more help.

THOMAS: I’m intrigued too.

DOMINIC: Well, I wanted to make a drawing featuring a prince, and since you’re the closest available prince I have, I was hoping if you could show me some of your best outfits to grab some ideas.

ROMAN: Of course, I’ll be delighted. As you can see, this is my normal princely suit, in bright white with a red sash.

DOMINIC: Yes, I have seen you plenty of times with it. It’s not exactly what I’m looking for. Have you got something else?

ROMAN: Well… [changes outfit to his old season 1 outfit] This is my old outfit, if you were going for something more sober, but equally bright.

DOMINIC: It is almost the same as your usual outfit, and no offense, but the suit looks a little bit like a cooking jacket. That won’t work either.

ROMAN: I’m not offended, that’s why I ended up changing it, after all. Okay, then let’s go for less utilized royal outfits of mine…

[Roman changes to the outfit he uses to wear when he’s fused with Remus]

ROMAN: How about this? Usually I wear this only when I’m fused with Remus, but if you wanted a radically different approach, this may work.

DOMINIC: I mean… It’s almost the same as the old one, only that in navy blue and brown, although the crown is a nice addition, but it’s still not enough, I’m sorry.

ROMAN: Well, you’re surely seem to know what you’re looking for… Let me see what I hold in my closet… There’s not much in my closet nowadays other than clothing… [giggles, then with a cringey expression] I’m sorry for that one. Okay… How about… this?

[Now Roman is wearing the very first outfit his brother Roland, the Prince Guy, wore in the Sanders Shorts, similar to his own old one but full of medals on the chest and the sash]

ROMAN: I couldn’t find anything, so I borrowed this from my brother. But I kept the crown since you seemed to like it.

[Dominic frowns slightly at Roman]

DOMINIC: This… is just your old outfit full of medals. It’s not what I’m looking for. Don’t you have anything else that doesn’t feature a sash?

ROMAN: [switching back to his usual outfit, with an over dramatic voice] No sash!? How can a prince get out of his castle without a royal sash around his heart symbolizing his pureness of heart and his indomitable will!?

[At that moment, Chris rises up]

CHRIS: There you are, father! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Have you forgotten we had fencing class today? You promised you’d teach me how to use your samurai sword!

ROMAN: I’m sorry, son. I totally forgot.

DOMINIC: I’m sorry… who is this?

THOMAS: Oh, that’s right, you and Dahlia haven’t met him yet. This is Chris. He’s Angsty Creativity and the son of Roman and Virgil. And yes, two male Sides can physically conceive a child because they’re not human. Chris, this is my friend Dominic.

CHRIS: Nice to meet you, Dominic.

DOMINIC: Same.

ROMAN: Well, Chris, I’m sorry, but our fencing lesson will have to wait. I was helping Dominic with…

DOMINIC: It’s okay, Roman! I finally found what I was looking for!

ROMAN: What?

DOMINIC: Chris, your outfit is perfect. Would you mind modeling for me?

CHRIS: What? What is modeling?

THOMAS: You stand still while an artist draws you. Dominic wants to make a drawing of you.

DOMINIC: I want to make some sketches of you wearing your outfit so that I can get ideas for a future cosplay of mine. I could make some photos, but I prefer to draw I because then I can include some ideas on the fly into the drawing.

CHRIS: Oh, well. I’d be honored to be of help, if you need me. When would you need me?

DOMINIC: Oh, we can do it right now, if you want. I have my tools in my car, I’ll get them and we’ll be ready. Hold on for a sec, be back soon.

[Dominic rushes to the door. Roman watches the scene with a face of confusion]

CHRIS: Oh, wow… I don’t know if I’ll be good at this…

THOMAS: Of course you can do this. It’s not that difficult, and it could be a good learning exercise for you, right Roman?

[Roman doesn’t answer, as he hasn’t heard Thomas]

THOMAS: Roman? Are you with us?

ROMAN: Mmm? Oh, I’m sorry, what did you say?

THOMAS: I said that this could be a good learning exercise for Chris, and that he can do this. Don’t you agree?

ROMAN: Oh… yes, yes, of course. You can do this, son, and I fully support you.

[Dominic returns carrying some drawing tools]

DOMINIC: Okay, I’m back. Are you ready?

CHRIS: Yes, what do I do?

DOMINIC: Just stand where you are, open your legs, your right hand on your hip, hold your sword with the left one and raise it pointing to… Thomas’ big picture on the wall, the one that Logan hates so much, that will do.

THOMAS: Wait, what?

DOMINIC: Oh, he didn’t tell you? Well… you were going to learn about that sooner or later… Then, Chris, raise your chin, project your chest, hold your breath a bit, give me a brave smile and look at the big picture. Roman, would you mind stepping back a few steps? You’re covering Chris.

ROMAN: Oh, sorry… Well, if you don’t need me, I guess I’ll be going now. See ya later guys.

THOMAS: See ya, Roman, thanks for coming.

[Roman sinks down with a serious face]

DOMINIC: Now, the most difficult part, don’t move for the next hour or so.

CHRIS: Do I have to hold my breath for a whole hour?

DOMINIC: Oh, of course not, sorry, you would suffocate.

CHRIS: I mean, I can hold my breath for an hour if you want me to, it’s just that it’s not pleasant.

DOMINIC: You can hold your breath for a whole hour without suffocating?

THOMAS: That’s a new Side ability I didn’t know about…

CHRIS: Sure! I can hold my breath for as long as I want, but it’s not comfy, and after the first two hours or so, my skin starts turning purple.

DOMINIC: Don’t worry it won’t take that long. And you can breath from time to time if you want, Chris, as long as you don’t move.

CHRIS: Okay…

[A couple of hours later, Dominic and Chris are done and gone. Thomas is finishing his lunch before going back to his script, when someone knocks at the door again. Thomas goes to open the door]

THOMAS: Oh, hi Joan.

JOAN: [walking to the living room with Thomas] Hi, Thomas.

THOMAS: I’m still not done with the script. I think I can have it finished later today, it’s only a couple of pages of the ending what I’m missing.

JOAN: That’s fine… Listen, can you help me with something?

THOMAS: Of course.

JOAN: You see, Talyn and I are going to visit some family from out of town, you know, my uncle and aunt and my two cousins. These two cousins love spooky stories. I wanted to write a spooky short tale to tell them while we’re there… but I’m dried out. I can’t figure out anything. So, I wondered if you could call…

ROMAN: [rising up, with a theatrical voice] Do not fear, Joan! Creativity is here and I will help you with whatever you may need!

THOMAS: Oh, Roman… I didn’t call you yet.

JOAN: Yeah… I… I’m sorry… but I meant to call your son, Chris.

ROMAN: [disappointed] Oh…

JOAN: But don’t worry, I can use your help if you’re so eager to help me.

THOMAS: Are you sure, though? You meant to write a spooky story, and Roman, you know that’s not your strong suit.

ROMAN: [slightly dejected] Oh, a spooky story… Yes, of course. I’m… I’m not good at that. The experts on spooky are my brother Remus and Chris.

JOAN: Remus would be too much. I want a spooky story, not to traumatize my cousins with a retelling of “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”. I thought on Chris because he’s Angsty Creativity, something in the middle, which is exactly what I was looking for.

ROMAN: [slightly sad voice] Yes… my son is so great… he’s been what everyone’s been looking for lately, it seems…

THOMAS: Are you okay, Roman?

ROMAN: [sudden over the top happy voice] Yes, yes, I’m fine! I’m happy that my son gets to be so successful, and I’m proud of him, of course, like I’m supposed to be as his father! Go ahead and call him!

THOMAS: Okay… Chris? Could you come here again, please?

CHRIS: [rising up] Yes, Thomas? I hope it’s not more modeling, like before… My muscles are still hurting of standing still for one hour.

THOMAS: No, this time what I need is exactly your thing.

JOAN: Yes, I need you to help me write a spooky short tale.

CHRIS: [excited] Oh, a spooky tale! I love spooky! Of course! What do you have in mind?

ROMAN: [with a bittersweet smile] Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll be going, just like before. Bye, guys.

THOMAS: Bye, Roman, thanks for coming. I’m sorry you couldn’t be of more help now.

ROMAN: [sighs while sinking down with an utterly sad expression] So am I…

[an hour or so has passed, and Joan and Chris are done and gone. Thomas is again in front of his laptop, trying to come up with something to write, but he can’t get anything]

THOMAS: I’m totally out of ideas… And I was so inspired this afternoon… Maybe I should go check on Roman. He looked so dejected when he left… Maybe he needs some cheering up. It’s good that, since I learned to dominate my Light Master powers, I can go in and out of the Mind Palace without assistance. Okay, let’s go.

[Thomas leaves the laptop on the couch, stands up and then sinks down. Before he rises up in Roman’s room, he hears Virgil’s voice, so he decides to stay hiding without showing up, listening to everything that’s happening there. Roman is sad and quiet, while Virgil is talking to him]

VIRGIL: A penny for your thoughts, Roman. You’ve been so silent for the last hour. Is there anything bothering you?

ROMAN: I’m fine… I’m fine, don’t worry, Virgil. I’ll be fine.

VIRGIL: “I’m fine” and “I’ll be fine” are exclusionary sentences, and “I’ll be fine” means that you’re not fine right now. What’s wrong?

ROMAN: It’s nothing… just my old stupid ego fighting against me, like usual. It will pass. It has to pass, right?

VIRGIL: I’m sorry, but I’m not following you. What are you talking about?

ROMAN: I mean… I should be fine already. In fact, I should be overwhelmed with joy and pride, like a father should be of his son. So, why am I feeling like this? Am I… horrible for thinking like this?

VIRGIL: I still don’t get you. Why don’t you start from the beginning so that I can understand. What are you talking about and what does Chris have to do with it?

ROMAN: Today, I tried to help Thomas’ friends with some projects of theirs… and they all preferred Chris’ help, who excelled at those tasks. I felt happy for him, but at the same time… I felt so bad… I don’t know why… Well, to be honest, I do. I felt displaced by Chris, like… [his voice starts trembling] like if suddenly I wasn’t needed anymore, like… Chris is so much younger and so much better than me in so many things. He’s a better prince than I’ve ever been… and it scares me to think that Thomas… may not want my help anymore. [tears start coming out of his eyes] Suddenly I’m feeling old, and useless… and… and…

[Roman starts crying. Virgil hugs him]

VIRGIL: It’s okay…

ROMAN: [crying on Virgil’s shoulder] I’m sorry I’m being so pathetic right now… You must feel so ashamed of me when I start crying like this, like a hopeless baby… I’m a father, I’m supposed to be strong to support my family, and yet I feel like the weight is crushing me down… Maybe I’m not good enough to be a father…

VIRGIL: Don’t say that, Roman. Of course you’re good enough. I couldn’t think of a better father for Chris than you. We’re just pretty new at this and need some time to get used to parenthood. Especially after the experience we’ve all just gone through, which was not exactly a good start. But it’s only a matter of time, you’ll see.

ROMAN: And yet, all I’ve ever done since I’ve become a father is a total failure after another.

VIRGIL: That’s not true!

ROMAN: Isn’t it? First I let that fiend take our son. I gave Chris to that monster on a silver platter because of my foolish idea of taking Chris to Sandersia while he was still wandering around over there.

VIRGIL: You didn’t know that would happen! None of us could have seen it coming!

ROMAN: And now, I’m jealous and envious of my own son, and I’m feeling him like a threat. What does that turn me into? I’m Prince Roman. I’m supposed to be a hero, and yet I’m behaving like a villain! Chris is the new hero and I’m just the villain that would wish to own everything the hero owns, that would wish to be in his place… I… I’m a fraud as a prince. Maybe I should abdicate the crown on Chris. He’d make a better use of it right now.

VIRGIL: Roman, I’m sorry to tell you, but you are truly behaving like a villain right now.

ROMAN: Right?

VIRGIL: Right, but not against Chris. You’re being a villain against yourself.

ROMAN: What?

VIRGIL: You are just throwing one harsh judgment against yourself after another. As I can see, you don’t really hold any ill will against our son. It’s all thoughts in your head… like, something about Remus was rubbing off on you. You’re starting to get intrusive thoughts of your own and they’re driving you mad.

ROMAN: I don’t know… maybe… Remus was part of me after all and maybe a part of him still resides inside of me… But still, that is a type of thought that I’m not supposed to have, especially against my own son.

VIRGIL: But you have constantly said that Chris’ achievements make you happy. So you don’t really have anything against him, it’s all against yourself. You’re thinking that you’re less than him, that you don’t deserve as much praise as him, and that is what is making you feel afraid. But that, as Logan would say, is a falsehood. You’re not less than anyone. You’re still prince Roman. The same great prince I fell in love with.

ROMAN: Virgil…

VIRGIL: Not so long ago, it was me who stayed in your position. I was the one who constantly belittled himself, who constantly thought of himself that I was less than all of the other Sides. But then you came around and changed my world for the better. I can tell you by experience that all these harsh judgments are only in your head, just like it happened with me. Think carefully. Do you honestly believe that Thomas could live without you? He couldn’t. He needs us all to be himself. You’re just as an important part of him as all the rest of us. Even when Thomas is a complete dork and quite a moron sometimes, he would agree with me.

[Thomas rises up in the room emitting some offended Thomothy noises]

ROMAN: [startled] Thomas? How long have you been here?

VIRGIL: Quite a long time. He tried to stay hidden, but I noticed him. That’s why I picked on him to make him show up.

THOMAS: You noticed me? I thought if you stayed hidden you couldn’t be noticed.

VIRGIL: Yeah, but you need some more practice in stealth. The portrait of Roman in the back wall got completely crooked when you arrived and I noticed it was you.

ROMAN: Wait, you’re right! How didn’t I notice that?

VIRGIL: You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you lacked the capacity to pay attention to your surroundings, Roman.

ROMAN: Anyway, you should have announced your presence, Thomas. It’s not nice to spy on us like that. And you should have told me, Virgil. I was having a private conversation and I didn’t want anyone to hear me, especially Thomas.

THOMAS: I apologize, Roman, and you’re right that I shouldn’t be spying on your conversations, but I’m thankful that Virgil didn’t tell you, and I think I can guess why he didn’t.

VIRGIL: [smirks] I think you guessed correctly, but go on, Thomas.

THOMAS: Would you have ever told me that you felt like this at all? Be honest.

ROMAN: Well, probably not… but even so, I was in my right not to tell you. Everyone has a right to keep secrets to himself, Thomas. Even you keep secrets, we all do.

THOMAS: You’re right. Everyone has a right to have a personal space and to have secrets of his own. However, if those secrets are wounding you, they’re also wounding me, and I think I have a right to know when something is wounding me, directly or indirectly. Don’t you? I promise not to spy on you again like this. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry, but I beg you that, the next time you have feelings like these that hurt you – and me – so much, come tell me yourself, at least whatever affects me or whatever I can use to help you.

ROMAN: I know… it’s just that… I was afraid of your reaction. I thought that you’d see me like a monster or at least… like a jerk.

THOMAS: Roman, what kind of person do you think I am? I’m not here to judge you. Aren’t we friends?

ROMAN: Of course we are friends.

THOMAS: Then you should know that, as your friend, I’m here to support you. I want to help you in every way that I can, but I can’t if you don’t open your heart to me, Roman.

CHRIS: [suddenly rising up] What are you talking about, Thomas? What do you have to open your heart about, father?

ROMAN: [startled] Oh, Chris… you’re here.

CHRIS: Of course I’m here, father. I live in this room too, remember? Even if I have my own bedroom, I share this living room too. Maybe I should consider moving to dad’s room as it is empty now and both you and I would have more space…

VIRGIL: I don’t like that idea so much… I didn’t have the chance of raising you and you’re already thinking on emancipating… it’s not fair. I go through the struggle and pains of becoming a father and I don’t get all the good stuff of raising a son…

CHRIS: It was just an idea, dad, I’m fine here right now, and it’s not like I have a college to go to or anything… but we’re diverting. What was Thomas talking about? Is something bothering you, father?

ROMAN: [hesitating, afraid to speak] Well, Chris, I…

VIRGIL: It’s nothing serious, Chris, don’t worry.

CHRIS: And now it’s when I really start worrying, because if it wasn’t serious you wouldn’t mind telling me, and yet you’re hiding it from me. [suddenly scared] Is it something about me? Did… did I do something wrong? Are you mad or disappointed at me over something?

ROMAN: [waving both hands quickly] No, no, no, of course not, Chris! You didn’t do anything wrong at all! [sighs] Okay, I’ll tell you, but before I start, know that nothing of what I’m going to say is your fault, and above all else, know that I love you with all my heart and that I want nothing but your happiness, okay?

CHRIS: [confused and concerned] Okay…

ROMAN: The problem is not you. It’s me. Everything you do as a Side was something that I was in charge of doing, mostly. Now you’ve arrived, and you’re so perfect, so much better than me in everything you do that… I suddenly felt useless and, I’m ashamed to admit it… [hesitates before continuing] …jealous of your success. But I repeat that it’s not your fault and you did nothing wrong at all. It’s all in my head and I don’t have any ill will against you. I’m happy and proud that you’re successful, okay? Well… what do you say? Would you… forgive me?

CHRIS: Are you… kidding me? You are jealous of… me? But why? I’m nothing special. I’m nothing compared to you in terms of creativity. Yes, I may be an expert on angsty creativity, but you are Creativity with a capital C. You can tackle almost any genre you set your eyes into, and it’s me who would wish to be as perfect as you are, father. You are my inspiration, my role model and my motivation to keep on improving and getting better, because one of my biggest wishes is that whatever I make can make you proud of me, father. I have nothing to forgive you for. I’m the one who should ask you to forgive me for making you feel like this, it was never my intention at all to hurt you.

ROMAN: Oh, son, I’m telling you you did nothing wrong. However, you’re so mistaken in so many things. I’m not as perfect as you think you are. I’m incredibly flawed. Despite how much I try to hide it with my poses, I’ve always been very insecure and afraid of failure. And I make a lot of mistakes that would make you feel embarrassed of me. [holding gently Chris’ cheek, who in turn holds his father’s hand] And don’t say again that you’re not special. You’re wonderful in so many ways. You have an incredible spark within you and it makes me sad that you can’t see it inside of yourself. You don’t need to proof yourself before me, because I’m already proud of you, Chris.

VIRGIL: We can agree in a couple of things then. You both are harsh with yourselves, and you both are proud of each other at the same time, which is proof of how how much judgmental you are on yourselves. I suppose that’s the curse of creators, never able to see the beauty and value of their own work, no matter how much praise they receive from others. It’s true that both of you are flawed. Who isn’t flawed, anyway? But at the same time, you both are special in your own ways and you must learn to give yourselves an honest pat on the back for your accomplishments. If you want a “biased unbiased opinion”, I’m proud of both of you, and anyone who could see your work and had just a little bit of good taste should be proud of both of you equally.

[Roman and Chris look at Virgil with a moved smile]

CHRIS: Thank you, dad.

ROMAN: Thank you, Virge. I love you.

VIRGIL: And I love both of you.

THOMAS: This was such a beautiful family bonding moment… I almost feel awkward and out of place for being here disturbing your privacy. I should be leaving.

VIRGIL: What are you talking about, Thomas? You are our family too.

ROMAN: That’s right, so come here right now for a family collective hug, okay?

THOMAS: [smiles] Gladly.

[all of them join in a group hug while the camera slowly moves away]

ROMAN: [still hugging Thomas] Thomas?

THOMAS: Yes, Princey?

ROMAN: [with the same “heartwarming” voice] If you ever tell the others about my insecurities and flaws, I will feed you to the Dragon Witch, okay?

THOMAS: [a little concerned] Uh… okay…

[ending card]

[Deceit is in his room. Honesty rises up]

HONESTY: Hi, Dee.

DECEIT: Hi, Hon, how are you doing?

HONESTY: I’m fine… What about you?

DECEIT: Me? I’m… fine, totally fine…

[Honesty stares at Deceit with a condescending glance letting him know that he’s aware Deceit’s lying]

DECEIT: Okay… You already know, I’m not fine, so what do you want me to say?

HONESTY: I’m not here to interrogate you, Dee. You and I know each other already and you know that I know everything that happened through our shared memory. I’m coming here because, even if I know it all already, it’s always good to vent it out verbally, and I’m here to hear you, if you want me to.

DECEIT: Thanks, Hon… You already know that my mind is quite a mess right now… After what happened the other day… I’m more confused than ever.

HONESTY: You’re talking about Remus’ kiss, right? I have full access to your memories, but I don’t have full access to your feelings, so I need to know. What are your current feelings for Remus, if I may ask?

DECEIT: I don’t even know it myself, Hon. The other day I was blunt with him. I told him that I didn’t love him the way that I still love Virgil. But…

HONESTY: Have you changed your mind?

DECEIT: No! Well… I don’t know… Ugh! Why does love have to be so complicated!?

HONESTY: What do you feel when you think about Remus?

DECEIT: Well, he’s chaotic, bad mannered, wild and even brutal to some extent… but there’s also this… gallantry in him. Like… he’s a duke after all and he was once part of a prince, so it’s natural that there are traces of that gallantry in him. Deep inside… Deep deep inside, he’s as charming as his brother Roman and there’s something about him that… really, really attracts me. But I don’t know if I can consider that proper love. Passion and love are not always synonymous. And I'm not even sure if I'm feeling passion towards him. I can't figure out my feelings at all.

HONESTY: May I assume that there’s something in him that attracts you and also something in him that repels you?

DECEIT: I don’t know… maybe. When he lets himself get carried away by that other side, he can be really dangerous. Remember our adventure in his castle, we could barely get out of there alive. I’m not saying he would go to those extremes again, but…

HONESTY: So, in short, you love him, but you’re scared to love him. Am I right?

DECEIT: Well…

HONESTY: Be honest with me, you know you can be.

DECEIT: I guess you’re right. I do love him, but I’m scared to love him. And I don’t want to love him, but…

HONESTY: …but you do, because that’s how love works. It just shows up with or without an invitation, and stays and leaves whenever it pleases him… Wow, love looks just like a cat if you think about it…

DECEIT: [bittersweet giggle] Sort of… But you already know who was the “cat” I’ve always associated with love, Hon.

HONESTY: Virgil… Are you sure you still love him, though? I mean, there are certainly long-term relationships of three or more consenting people, but… I may be wrong, but your memories show me that that’s not your cup of tea, that you’ve always been a one-man-only kind of guy. That’s why I’m asking you. Do you still love Virgil?

DECEIT: I… I think I do. Gosh, I’m so confused. I’m not even sure of myself.

HONESTY: Well… there’s one Side who could be of more help than me in this matter of feelings. Maybe you should talk to Patton.

DECEIT: What? No! He’s Virgil’s father! And he’s also Thomas’ morality! He would judge me, probably harshly! Remember that in the beginning he despised me! And it took me so long to gain his friendship, that I don’t want to let it all go to waste!

HONESTY: That’s all water under the bridge, Dee. Patton is our friend, and he loves us, including you, Deceit. I’m sure he would try to help you if you give him a chance. And he understands feelings better than anyone else. He even noticed Logan’s feelings for him before Logan himself could figure them out. I’m sure he could help you figure out your own feelings too.

DECEIT: I don’t know…

HONESTY: I won’t push you to do anything that you don’t wanna do, but will you promise me at least that you’ll consider asking him for help. I’m worried about you, Dee, I just want you to be happy.

DECEIT: I know, brother, and I thank you very much. [sighs] I promise I’ll meditate about it. But nothing more yet until I make up my mind.

HONESTY: Okay, as you wish, Dee… Now, what’s for dinner?

DECEIT: Dinner?

HONESTY: Of course, you wouldn’t expect me to come here as your sentimental advisor and not get rewarded with some dinner, right?

DECEIT: [smirks] Why you… Do you want to help me make dinner, then? It will be a nice way of relaxing after this convo.

HONESTY: Of course. Anything for my favorite brother.

DECEIT: I’m your only brother…

HONESTY: I know, I’m Honesty, I didn’t say any lies, did I?

[Deceit giggles and heads to the kitchen with Honesty]

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #dukeceit #romantic dukeceit #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #aspects and fanfics

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-Three: The Phone is Ringing ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi, Haruno Sakura, Hyūga Hanabi, Hyūga Neji ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

It takes exactly eight rings before the answering machine picks up.

When it does, a honey-sweet voice speaks.

“Hello! You’ve reached Hinata Hyūga. I can’t make it to the phone right now, but leave your name and your number, and I’ll c-call you back as soon as I can!”

She’s always hated how she stutters in it. After a dozen tries and every single one having at least one hiccup, she just gave up and took the last one. In part, she wonders if it’s played any roles in certain calls simply hanging up rather than leaving a message.

The machine is on a little table in the entryway of her apartment, the volume soft as not to be too terribly overheard by anyone walking by. Beside it is a little bowl where she typically keeps her keys, and a hook for her coat and purse. Today, all three are missing.

When the phone rings, it proceeds all the way to voicemail.

“Hinata, this is your father. This is the fourth time I’ve tried calling you the past two days, and you’ve still returned none of my messages. This is hardly becoming behavior, young lady. Something we’ll have to discuss once you finally get back to me. Your sister tells me you’ve been ignoring her texts. You can’t avoid us, Hinata. We’re family, no matter how disdainful you might find that to be.”

There’s the subtle sound of a landline being set back in its cradle, and then the apartment goes quiet again. A bright red 5 blinks along the screen, eager for attention.

No one gives it.

A few hours later, rain begins to pour. Carried by the wind, it impacts rather noisily against the windows that face the north, droplets exploding and slithering down the glass. The view from the fifth story blurs. Downtown is drenched in grey as the storm settles over, headlights a soft yellow as they struggle to cut through the gloom. Neon signs of downtown flicker and warp in the view through the water.

Just as the sun starts to go down, the phone begins to ring again. After eight tones with no answer, the machine picks up.

“Hey Hina! It’s Sakura. Just thought I’d check in on you - it’s been a while! Haven’t heard from you in a hot minute, and uh...figured I’d see if maybe you’d be down to hang for a while! I’m back in town next week for a conference, and I’d love to see you. I know you’re pretty busy, but hey, if you’ve got a spare hour or two while I’m around, let me know! Bye.”

There’s a few muffled background noises before the message cuts off completely. The 5 changes to a 6.

Night falls, and still the table remains empty save for the machine. Light creeps in around the main door, and a light on a timer in the kitchen flares to life. Otherwise, the apartment remains dark, and just as silent.

And so it goes until morning.

At seven am sharp, the phone is ringing once again. Once, twice, all the way to eight times.

“Hello Miss Hyūga. This is your supervisor Kurenai Yūhi. It was brought to my attention that you failed to appear at work yesterday with no prior notice. I know that you mentioned, in passing, that you had some...personal issues going on. But work policy mandates that, outside of an emergency, you give at least eight hours notice before a missed shift. If this happens again, I’ll have no choice but to write you up and place you on temporary suspension. You’ve been an exemplary employee during your three years with us, but I can’t make exceptions. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.”

The line goes quiet.

The table is empty.

The 6 becomes a 7.

Midafternoon, the ringing tone of the phone shrilly sounds five times...and then silence. On the phone’s caller ID, an obvious spam number displays. It leaves no message.

It’s nearly five o’clock when it rings again. And again. And again, until her pre-recorded message greets the silent apartment.

“...hey, ‘nata. It’s me, Hanabi. Look, uh...I’m seriously starting to get a little freaked out? You’ve never ignored me this long. Not even when I broke that old rabbit figurine Mom gave you. Please, just...let me know you’re okay? I dunno what I did to make you mad, or...maybe it’s not me you’re mad at. But I’m your sister. We might not always get along, but like...we’re sisters. Talk to me, ‘nata. If Dad’s being an asshole, just ignore him. But please...don’t shut me out. Okay? Love you…”

There’s a small, audible sigh...and then silence. The 7 blinks, and is reborn as an 8.

The rest of the evening passes quietly. The only interruption is a rowdy group of young men stumbling drunkenly past the door, the sober among them shushing for silence only to be ignored. They enter the apartment next door, where music begins to play and raucous laughter easily bleeds through the thin walls. But despite all of the rowdiness that carries well into the night, there’s no one home to complain.

The next morning, it’s foggy with a light misting of rain. Kurenai calls again and informs Hinata that her formal suspension is now in place. Should she miss one more day of work, she’ll be forced to terminate her employment.

The 8 becomes a 9.

A random number calls around ten, proclaiming that a recent fraud case in her town may have affected her identity, and to immediately call this number to confirm. Yet another clear case of spam.

9 makes way for the double digits of 10.

And then, in the early afternoon, another call.

“Hinata. This is your cousin Neji. Your father is furious that you have yet to return his calls, and is in the process of filing a missing person’s report. I implore you - if you are simply being obstinate - to drop this charade immediately before the police are forced to intervene. You know we can’t have a scandal like this in the family over a petty disagreement. Whatever Hiashi has done...surely it isn’t worth things becoming this complicated. Whatever has happened, you know I’m here for you. But this has carried on long enough. I only hope that...drama is all this is, and you aren’t in any trouble, cousin. Please call me as soon as you hear this message.”

...10 becomes 11.

The day continues to wane. The rain continues to fall. The machine continues to flash, seemingly desperate to be seen as the bright red numerical digits only get brighter as the ambient light fades.

...and then the door opens.

Heavy-footed, a figure steps in, exhaustion clear in their posture, but otherwise seemingly fine. A bag is tossed under the table, keys barely flung into the bowl. Coat still worn, she pauses as she spies the machine.

“...oh, s-shoot…”

A dainty finger presses the play button. The first message is a telemarketer, which she promptly deletes. The next four are from her father, and Hinata’s lips press into a thin, irritated line. Each message becomes more and more agitated, and a small part of her can’t help but feel satisfaction.

After all, he brought this all on himself.

Her gut twinges in guilt at Sakura’s message - she’ll have to call her back later. Kurenai’s earn a grimace. She has her mobile number...why didn’t she try there? Hanabi also makes her shoulders wilt guiltily. As soon as she’s done, she’ll shoot her a text. She just...hasn’t been in the headspace.

Neji’s, however, makes her swear. Sure, it probably looked bad, but...really? Really? What an idiot her father is...she’ll call Neji and let him know Hiashi can call off the stupid missing person’s case. And let him know that any drama isn’t her fault. That lies solely on her father’s stubborn shoulders!

But before she gets to any of that, she takes out her cell and scrolls through her contacts, finding the appropriate name before calling. It rings once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Hey...I’m home.”

“Oh, good. Glad you made it okay. So, uh…?”

“I’ll talk to my landlord tomorrow. It’s g-going to take some doing. I don’t have much, but some should probably go into storage…”

“That’s fine. I think there’s units near my place, so we can just put what you don’t want in there.”

“All right. Um...I think I might have gotten fired…”

“Oh shit, really?”

“I’ll call Kurenai here in a minute, but...for some reason she never bothered with my mobile. And I was just so out of it…”

“Well, hopefully she’ll understand. Anyone else?”

“Family, mostly...my father being r-ridiculous. Hanabi was worried, and Neji. But I’ll talk to them, too. They aren’t going to be happy…”

“Sometimes you have to think about your own happiness, Hinata. This is what you want, right…?”

“It is.”

“...I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t. I told you they’d react like this. I knew they would...it’s my fault for being so quiet about it, but...I just didn’t want to deal with it after telling him. I needed a few days. Seems even that was enough for them to go ballistic…”

“All the more reason to stick to your decision.”

“I know...thank you, Sasuke.”

“We’ll make this work, with or without them. I love you.”

“...I love you too. I better go, though...I’ve got a l-lot of phone calls to make before I can call it a night.”

“All right. You need anything, just let me know. We’ll get you moved in and settled down. And if the job thing fell through, we’ll find you something new. Maybe even something closer.”

“Yeah...I just really like this job...I feel d-dumb for not calling in, I just…”

“Well, talk to Kurenai. Maybe she can pull some strings for you.”

“Maybe…”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? Get things straightened out, and call me when you’re done. We can plan from there.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Hearing the line go quiet, Hinata ends the call and sighs. Just the first of many...it’s going to be a long night. Glancing to the 0 on her message machine, she makes her way in to her sitting room and dials the next number.

Here we go...

.oOo.

This is really random, and uh...I really dunno what it is xD The suspense concept kinda just hit me, and I rolled with it as best I could given how day tired and burnt out I am, lol But in case it isn't clear: Hinata told her father she's planning on moving in with Sasuke because they're dating. Mister Uptight Jerkface decided to throw a huge tantrum because traditionalism and being a controlling father. Hinata thus just...disappeared for a few days at Sasuke's place, hence missing all the calls (and ignoring texts because she just...did NOT want to deal with that). I dunno if I really managed to make it as suspenseful as I wanted, with the question of whether or not something had REALLY happened to her. But I tried - I don't write this sort of thing very often xD Buuut anyway, it's late, and I have yet another looong day ahead of me tomorrow. So just a warning: I might not post tomorrow. I know I'm abysmally behind, but this whole situation is VERY draining, and I'd rather be late than post garbo for these entries. That said, I'll do my best. But no promises. For now though, I need to get some sleep! Thank you for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #hyūga hiashi #haruno sakura #hyūga hanabi #hyūga neji #best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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finding-the-daylight · 4 years

Text

Today has been a very stressful day, so guess wtf time it is? Drunk Breaking Dawn Pt. 1. Here is what I soberly remember of the movie (I have not watched it since BD2 came out):

1. There’s a wedding.

2. There’s a honeymoon.

3. There’s swimming in the ocean.

4. There’s an accidental pregnancy.

5. The baby almost kills Bella.

6. The canon incident that we all hate happens.

7. The Volturi evilly laugh.

Same as Eclipse, my drunken narration of the movie will be below the break.

A brief intro statement, I was 100% sober and just beginning to drink at the beginning of the Eclipse post and progressively got more drunk. For BD1, I’m throwing back before I even start watching this shit show.

- I love the effects of the intro. it’s very calming. THe putting away childish things quote is literally a Bible verse. I hate that Stpehen appropriated Quileute culture, Christian culture, and every culture. I know she’s mormon but sitll. THis shit feels real appropriated.

- Idk why rennee is all happy. she never gave a shit before.

- OMG ALICE TEHCING BELLA TO WALK IN HEELS IS THE CUTEST ICRY.

- carlisle carryign the bench is literally the hottest hting i’ve ever seen fck

- lowkey kinda creeprd out because she’s literally sacrificing her humanity to marry this deud she’s known for like a year but everyone other than jacob is super supportive

- damn she’s looking @ this dreamcatcher and it’s making me sad but tbh that shit probably caused half her nightmares because she’s not native so sleep paralysis (if you know you know).

- DAMN EDWAD RELALY JUST ADMITTED HE’S BEEN A VIRGING FOR OVER 100 YEARS WHAT AB RAVE MAN WE STAN

- BUT FOR REAL WHY IS NO ONE FREAKING TF OUT THAT SHE’S LITERALLY BEGGING TO DIE FOR THIUS DUE?

- he just todl her hes killed people and explained it and it didn’t work she’s still down to clown with this vapire emo boi

- HOW HE’S SMILTING @ HR WTF I AM SO ALONEEEE

- i just wama ne im loved amd ne loved in retun plz

- this dream sequence is awful also fck the volturi is til hate that they never overthrew that crabbyass monarchy bullshit they were powerful enough

- i just wanna be like rosalie when i greow up

- charlie knew shit was off when he saw those crapsk

- why the HELL is renen actin liks she cares? bitch go the fuck back home

- jessica is the only one with any damn common sense in this whole series talking about they’re too fucking young for this shitt bitch true and itm akes sene now why she was the valedictioajrn

- SLEEPING AT LAST IS THT GROUP IDK IF YALL HAVE HEARD ANY OF HTEIR OTHER STUFF BUT THEY’RE AMAIZNG AND I USED TO CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP # THAT SHIT

- damn id’ be fuckign panicking too your lfie is over hoe

- stpeheen sto pwiht your racist ass smiling its offensive

- CHARLIE FUCKING DEWEVRE BETTER SOMEONE LOVE HIM PLEASR

- this wedding is gorgoeus though i live for hte fuckj g aestiec

- OH MY GORD THE PROM SONGGGGGGGG FCK ME RIGHT IN THE EMO

- IT JUST HIT ME WHN THEY WRE LOOKI @ EACH OTHERS EYES THIS BTCH REALLY MARYING AN UNDRSF VAMPIRE HOE this shit is horryighn why was i not scare?

- carlisle is the love of y life

- sth is a lil ray of sunishen

- i just reaized howd fucked it is that sue and chalrie are starng to catch feelz ut sue knows his daughter is funckugn off with a unded vamp emo iboi

- OMG I FCUKING HATE STEPHENE RACIST ASS I LEGIT MADE AP OST EARLIER SYAING LAURENT WANTED TO DO THE RIGHT THING ANDWOUVLEBE BEND A VEGETATIAN BITCH AND IRENEA CONFIRMED FCK THIS SHIT IM OUT ANG ANGRY

- charlie is gget ing drunk as hell my spiritn animel

- jesica is smart and beautiful she needs t os stop being jealous and petty know ya wotht girlie you got itl

- I SWEAR WHEN IGET MARRIED OSMEDAY IF ANYONE GIVES A SPEECH LIKE THIS I WILL PERSONALLY DRAGT HER ASS OUT.

- edwar lves her so much fck im all alone\

- how haoph hacob is when they hig i hate canonn they were best friends fc,

- jacob stay the fck outta her sex life she;s been wanting this for ad dman year fkc steohe let them jsut befriend

- steh is so swert but e is a chidl fck the is reacist plot bulshit

- CHARLIE DESEVRD BETTR FCK THIS PLOT FOR REAL I HAE CANON

- bela looks os ad she knows it’s goodbye but edward’s family is all smiling because they have her now hwat fthe ckc

- jac0bs cryng my heart brke

- i love bineg dunk

- the scene isn rio is my faorite isn any of the movies eveyrhting looks warm and happy

- this bich can drive ab oat too damn he can just fod evryhin cant he

- CARLISLE BOUGHT A WHOEL DAMN ISALND FOR HIS WIFE AND I CANT ECVE GET A TEXT BACK?

- deis this honeymon scene make anuone else unconmfy becuae same

- marying a vampire would be horrying af but also hot af and good af becuase htye oculd love so much and protect you from everythign fck 1-/10 woukd efeel safe

- bwll gaving a panic attakc ism e anyt tinme i try talking to an attractive man

- slepeign at last fckign ti up agin bit ch theis m yshit

- when he said it was the best night i cred

- tstoehe added the chess game like this shit is a hoje but i would love to play chess on my honemodn idk how uut i want a man to each me but not mansplin

- WHY THE FUCJ AR THEY SO CTE ON THIS AMN HONEYMOON?

- i know i sadn it was horryig but i want a hotass vamp emo boi husband plas

- damn jacob is being too emo she aint really gonan be ded for ever youll see her agianb itch

- ‘CULLENS ARE NOT A DNAGER TO THE TOWN OR TRUBE” BITCH IB EG TO FUCKIN DIFFER THIS SHIT BIOLOGICAL WARDARE RACIST ASS STPEHEN WRITING THIS FUCKING BULLTSIT

- ‘NONE OF THEM BELONG TO THEMSEVLES ANYGMROE” - SOMEONE SAID IT BITCH THSI SHIT IS FUCKRE IP

- i fucking hates these vamp racist bitches but i want a nonracist va,p husband bitch thus hot afck

- how tf does she not know shes rpegr yet eatin this weid ass shit?

- THESE FKERS BEEN AROUND FOR CENTURIES TLAKING BOU IDK IF ITS VEEN POSSIBEL BTICH YU SHOULD FUCKUGN KNO BY NOW

- ROVERT SPOEAKIN G PORTGUEVE IS SO KING ATRACTIV

- poor bella her life chaned so uqick and she[s soc scared fck dcnaon

- POOR CHARLIE I HATE THIS HE DESERVES TO BE LOVED AND TURTH TOLD

- ROSALEI IS THE EST

- “YOU LOOK TERRBLE’ THIS IS THE FRIENDHSOP WE WANT WHYT THE FCK DOES FOPSTHE RUIN EALL THIS SHIT

- CARLISE IS FUNCIGJ HOT

- LIRALY BITCH I JUST WNAT A PURE FIRENDHSIP WUTH JACOB AND BELLA ITS WHAT THEY DESERVE FJC CAON

- this montage is turopy a f when youre drunk waht the helc por jake thugh

- im sorry but i;n laughign my ass off at these fuckugn wolf vocie overs lmaoooo this shit hilarious

- SETH HAS SUCH A PURE HEART WHTY TF DID SPTEHEH RUIB HUS FUCJING CHILDHOOD BULTHIST

- WHY IS EVEYRIJE BSUCG AFUCKUGN BUTCG TO LEAH???? SHE DESEVRED THE FUCKING WORLD STPEHEN IS A RACISHT BITCHHHHHH

- calisbe is fos unicngn hot

- i just reaized robert is like the best fuckugn actor like this diolaguge is wha k as fuck btu he’s acitng all emo boi oscar worhty shti

- they realy had her fuckin drink blodo i hate cannjnonnn

- ifelel the same as kaje watchign this

- but carlisle’s prety face made it all fuckig hetter

- FUCKRT HIS SHTI CHARLIE DESERVED BETTER HE’S THE BEST DAD FCK CANO NFUCK STEPRHNE

- okay ut id is cute as fkc whe nedward hears the baby

- esme and calrisle wilougn to risk their lives for bella i cryi

- fkc i really do hate cnaon because jake is acting liek an adult now and trying to do the honrble thig bue he should be a hpaoy chidl

- resnemsien is a ficking ridjcils name and we all fuckj nnew

- i ahte this part i’n bot even wathcing this shit rgros me rout

- WHY THDID FUCK DID THIS BITCH HAVE A FUKCUNG SYRINGE OG VENOM LAYING AORUND? HOE!?!?!

- literlaiy fuick the dynamics of this whole moty hfknfucjg storyline plot bitch

- LEAH AND STHE DESERVERD BETTER

- SO DID JACOB

- SO DID ALL THE WOLFPAKC STPEHEN IS A RACIST AS SHOE

- aw hell here the fucks we hgo with theu ickgn im************** bulshit i ghate cnaojn canon can suck ad ick

- YES BILLY DEFEND YOUR CHIDL

- rosalie is literally perfect when cnai b ehr

- im real glad im drunk rin now because ioculd nto sit throguh this shit sober

- imp&******* is the worst plotline fkc]

- bit iamgiben falling alseo lookin gsick and waking up fhot as uck goals

- this sogn making me cry literlalu imcruing ims o alone lmao

- rheye really ended htoe move wirh red eyws lmaoooo

- hodl the fick up a damn minute stpeehebn producre htis cufkcng shit?

- now heres the hoes iv’ve been waiting on burnt the monarch fuckwits i hate thes epompis fuckers

- OVERTURBR THESE FUCKSERS THEY HAVE TIOO MUCH POWR

CARLISR COULD FUCKING D OI T I HATE CNAON BRING THE VAMPIRE DECONOARCY

- OOHG BRUNNO MARS BRINGNG THE FUCKING SIMPSSHOES ANTHM I NEEDLOVE IT

#Twilight #Twilight renaissance #Breaking Dawn #Breaking Dawn Part One #Breaking Dawn review #simp ass hoes #simp ass hoes fandom #we hate canon #WE HATE CANON HERE

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wyttolff · 6 years

Text

out of my league

Chapter Two

pairing: reddie (side stenbrough) aged up!

“Glad to see I’m not the only mess this morning,” Stan laughed...

part 2/?

“This is rid-d-diculus,” Bill muttered as he threw back the curtains of Eddies bedroom, allowing the stream of bright sunlight to almost blind him. “Jesus, Denbrough, no warning or anything?” Eddie groaned as he threw his arm over his eyes and sat up in his bed, a little too quickly infact, as his head was pounding. “Maybe the f-fact that it’s one in the a-afternoon could have been a warn-ning enough,” he scoffed back before saying to himself, “S-sunday lunch and I h-have to drag both of them out of b-bed.” Eddie went to roll his eyes at Bill but soon realized hangover headaches are worse than he remembers. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and dug through the various pill bottles before finally finding the aspirin and taking three. “We’re leaving in t-ten, I have to go back and make sure Stan is act-t-tually out of bed.” Eddie groaned in response as he flopped back onto his bed, throwing his hands over his face to attempt massaging the migraine out- shocker, it didn’t work.

Eddie somehow managed to get out of bed and out the door a whole minute early. He made a point to always be early for anything he did, even if it was just meeting Stan and Bill across the hall, and even with a hangover. “Glad to see I’m not the only mess this morning,” Stan laughed as he made his way out the door two minutes late, but who was counting (Eddie. Eddie was counting). “At least I can still be on time,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “I’ve been waiting a whole two minutes for your ass.” “I t-tried my best,” Bill spoke as he locked their apartment door. “I’m starving let’s g-go.” “You’re driving, this migraine is killer,” Stan said, tossing his keys towards Bill and starting to make his way down the hall.

“What even happened to you last night once we left,” Stan said as the trio sat down at their usual table inside the small diner. “I watched the band then i’m guessing Bill called a cab like he said he would?” he looked at Bill for confirmation but instead got Bill almost choking on his water in response. “You really don’t r-r-remember, do you?” he practically snorted. “You did a little more than just w-watch the band, maybe a s-single person in the b-band.” “What are you even talking about?” Eddie had no idea what Bill meant. Maybe Eddie drank a little more than he remembered, actually, he didn’t remember much to begin with. “Bye Chee! Thanks b-baby!” Bill cooed, mocking Eddie’s exclaims from the night before. “You were h-hanging all over this guy, k-kinda embarrassing if you a-ask me.” “Chee? What type of name is Chee? And baby? Did I actually?” Eddie’s face burned and his bead pounded just a little harder. He searched his memories for something to help him remember the previous night. He vaguely remembers some bathroom encounter with a curly haired boy with glasses, then seeing him again at the bar, but that’s all he could remember. “This is golden,” Stan laughed as he sipped his coffee. “Mr. Professional finally living a little, what a change.” “This really isn’t funny, Stan, this is going to ruin my reputation! I don’t even know what I did!” “Or who you did,” he interrupted with a raised eyebrow and a smug look spread across his face. Bill tried to backup Eddie but he couldn’t help but let our a laugh. “Y-you texted me last night, wasn’t m-much help since I-I could barely understand w-what you wrote, but m-maybe you texted someone else a-and that could h-help you remember last night,” Bill suggested. “It’s r-really like he made u-up his own language when he w-was drunk,” he whispered to Stan with a laugh. Eddie got his phone out for the first time that day, skimmed some of the notifications, and finally opened up his phone. “Guys wait,” he said. His phone opened to his notes app where a message had been left. Wasn’t hard for you to give up your password, but I can tell you won’t remember shit from tonight so I could catch you up when you’re sober. Dinner, coffee, whatever the fuck you like, just text me. And if you don’t even remember my name, it’s Richie. Eddie stared at the screen for a while, not sure what he should do. “Do I text him?” “Let me see it,” Stan said as he grabbed the phone from Eddies hands. Before he could even react, Stan typed out a message to the number left in Eddies notes and handed the phone back to Eddie. “Of course you text him, but I already did so don’t worry about it.” “Stan are you fucking kidding me? What’d you say?” Eddie was too mortified thinking of the things Stan could have sent to even check the message. “That you want to suck his dick,” both Eddie and Bill exclaimed an appalled “Stan!” before he answered “Joking of course, just told him you'd meet for lunch tomorrow.” “But I work tomorrow,” he said. “And you get a whole hour for lunch, I said to meet you at Daisy’s, it’s only a block from your office so you’ll be fine,” he replied nonchalantly with another sip of his coffee. Eddie sighed in half confusion. half defeat just as his phone buzzed on the table. It’s a date then. “You really put him in as one night stand, fucking disgusting, we didn’t even do anything” Eddie scoffed at Stan. “That you remember,” he said with a wink. “Fuck you, guess I’ll find out tomorrow,” Eddie sighed and sat back as his head swam with all the possibilities of what could have happened and what soon will.

tag list: @tohzier @officiallyreddie @xlosersclubx @arthoebyers @suicidalstan @i-is-gazebo @1ovedu @dandeliontozier @drunkrichietozier @cat-was-here

#olive writes #the losers club #reddie #out of my league fic

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grimmseye · 7 years

Text

Like a Good Neighbor

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki / Kirishima Eijirou

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku (brief)

Other tags: Alcohol, Meet-Cute except Bakugou is drunk, (like a good neighbor Kiri is there), Bakugou’s p fucking gay

For @feylampchild whose request followed the lines of: Drunk Bakugou, showing up on Kirishima’s doorstep, “Oh no he’s hot”

Read on Ao3 here

-------------------------

Dim lights. Shitty, half-assed music and overpriced alcohol. This is the best night of his life.

Bakugou knows it. He says it. Loudly, and with a slur in his voice as he flings an arm around Uraraka’s shoulders. “This,” he cackles, “‘s the best fuckin’ nighta my life!”

He's a little unsteady, though, and nearly falls before an arm wraps around his waist. Uraraka is a true friend. He loves her.

Deku looks a little bit pale as he looks their way and says, “Kacchan, you’re drunk.”

And that is impossible. Because Bakugou hates alcohol. It tastes like shit, and it makes him feel like shit if he drinks more than two glasses. So, no alcohol, meaning he’s definitely, absolutely, indisputably not drunk.

Kaminari is standing off to the side, laughing through tears as he holds up his phone. He’s taking a really long time to take a picture, Bakugou thinks. Probably because he's drunk, and drunk people can't do basic things like take pictures. Idiot.

“Uraraka drank him under the table!” Kaminari wheezes. “He actually took the bait!” Bakugou cranes his head around to try to get a glimpse of whoever he’s talking about. No one looks particularly drunk off their ass, which they would be if baited into a drinking contest against Uraraka.

“Who th’fuck would do that?” He rolls his eyes. It makes him dizzy, and he has to sag against Uraraka. “Whadda… fucking idiot. I should kick that jackass to fucking… out of here. Just cuz they're stupid.”

Kaminari makes a gurgling sound. He's definitely had too much. AUraraka is covering her face, but she’s smiling, so Bakugou grins, too.

The moment is ruined, of course, when fucking Deku decides to be the worst. As always. He doesn't get why cool people hang around Deku, who is absolutely lame. “I-I think,” he stammers, which is lame, “that we should take Kacchan home. He doesn’t look good.”

Bakugou snorts. “Yeerr protecting, Deku. You look like ass .”

“I think you mean ‘projecting’, Bakugou.” Uraraka presses her arm into his back, forcing him upright, and slips out from beneath his weight. He's rather proud of the fact that he stands on his own just fine, but it's dampened because Deku is ruining things and people are agreeing with him. “Who cares,” he drags out, rolling his eyes.

God they’re all just so fucking stupid. Deku is the worst of them all. His dumbass curly hair and stuttering voice. It’s lame. They’re lame, and Bakugou is not.

He’s outta here.

“You’re right, though,” Uraraka is says. “He really does need to go home. Before he starts a fight, or crying.” Because both have happened in the past. Sober Bakugou really, really hates alcohol.

“G-guess we better say goodbye to everyone then,” Midoriya muses. “Kacchan, let’s —”

He stops. Uraraka stops. Even Kaminari, who had still been wheezing with laughter, stops.

“Where’s Kacchan?”

-------/////////////-------

There are certain rules to be followed when living alone. Kirishima wasn’t very good at following them, as was indicated when he answered a knock on his apartment door at ten past midnight.

The guy outside doesn’t say hello. He squints at Kirishima from beneath a mass of explosively fluffy hair, the same kind of expression you get when walking from a dark room out into the sunlight. And, with the eloquence of a person drunk off their ass, he growls, “Why th’fuck ’r ya in my apartment.”

“Uh. Cause this is…” Kirishima glances around, just to double check, “ my apartment. Who are you?”

Definitely drunk. He’s teetering where he stood, even as he tries to square up. “Geddout,” he slurs, probably trying to glare but falling short at the mouth. “I’ll fuckin’ kill ya.”

“I’d really like to see you try,” Kirishima snorts. “Seriously, it’d be hilarious. Take your best shot.” He spreads his arms, the universal come at me posture, and waits. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens, so he asks, What’s your room number, man?”

That doesn’t get a response, either.

“Well ,” he sighs, “ I am D-15. As you can see here on this nifty plaque.” Kirishima taps the metal set next to the doorframe. The man’s eyes roam over it. He can see the exact moment it registers, his expression wiping blank.

“...Mm.” Is the final response. The man glances at him, glances at the plaque he's pointing to, repeats the motion just to confirm. Then he nods firmly. “Mmkay. Thanks. Sorry.” He makes to turn in about three different directions before spinning to the left and walking away.

Kirishima’s eyes follow him as he totters down the hall. “This is some first impression,” he murmurs to himself. He wonders if that guy always has explosive blonde hair or if that’s just a result of his apparently-wild night. And, if it’s common for him to bang on strangers’ doors when he’s drunk.

Not twenty seconds later, there’s another knock. Kirishima raises his eyebrows and cracks it open again.

The man is still there. He’s staring at the ground, hands in his pockets.

“I…” he begins. His voice seems to crack, and Kirishima’s heart leaps. “I don’t have my fuckin’ room card. Stupid, shitty Deku .”

And, well. What kind of guy would Kirishima be if he just left the guy to sleep in the hallway? Or try to drunkenly get down the stairs and end up dead, thus leaving Kirishima with an unwitting hand in the murder of a near-stranger.

He gives himself a moment to deliberate. There were certain factors to take into account: things like how likely it was for this guy to be a murderer and, in that scenario, whether or not Kirishima could fight him off. He came to the conclusion that, yes, if it came down to sheer strength he could, in fact, overpower him. With how inebriated he was, Kirishima can’t bring himself to feel concerned.

Nodding to himself, Kirishima reaches for the man’s arm. He blinks, surprised and somewhat impressed. The man’s clothes do not do his body justice. That’s hard muscle beneath his fingers.

Hot, Kirishima thinks, before hurriedly wiping it out of his brain.

“Come on, you can crash here,” he offers. The man offers no resistance as he’s tugged inside. The pull is a little too hard; he stumbles and crashes against Kirishima’s chest. And then goes very still.

For a moment, Kirishima thinks he’s passed out. Then he hears a quiet, “ Holy shit.” A hand comes up, pressing against his chest. And then he squeezes.

Kirishima yelps . “ Dude!” He drops him because, yeah, fuck that, sexual harassment is not his style. Unfortunately, the man has learned how to stay on his own two feet. “One more move like that and you’re camping in the hallway.

He all but shoves the guy to the couch. Maybe he shouldn’t give the guy a blanket. That’d serve him right.

Only the thermostat tells him it’s below 50 outside. Kirishima sighs, and gets a blanket. When he returns, the stranger is sprawled over the couch. He has his phone in his hands, jabbing the screen aggressively, and looking like he’s about to drop his phone.

That was another thing Kirishima was not about to deal with. He plucks the phone from the guy’s fingers, taking a brief glance at the screen. He’d been messaging someone titled Round Face, which seems like a rude thing to call someone. Maybe it's an inside joke, though. He has to give the benefit of the doubt.

The man is staring at his now-empty hand. There’s a confused look on his face, like he hasn’t quite grasped what happened to his phone.

Kirishima puffs out a breath, throwing the blanket over him. “Goodnight Kacchan,” he mumbles, heading to his bedroom. He switches off the light on the way.

-------/////////////-------

Bakugou wakes up on a comfortable couch. Given that his own couch provides the same amount of comfort as a literal rock, he immediately knows he’s not in his apartment.

The room he’s in is cluttered, cups left on the table, a pile of unfolded laundry on a chair. There are dumbbells on the floor, lying in wait for some unsuspecting victim to stub their toes. He immediately despises whoever lives here.

Alongside the cups on the table is Bakugou’s phone. He reaches for it, grumbling, hoping it would give him some clue as to where the hell he is and why he’s there. And whether or not he needs to find a knife. For murder.

His phone opens to the messenger, his chat with Uraraka. The bottom messages are absolutely not in his writing, because while Bakugou may litter every single text with curses, they’re grammatically correct and properly punctuated curses. Whoever was using his phone doesn’t have a grasp on things like proper capitalization.

He scrolls until he reaches messages he recognizes.

[11:44]

Round Face: Where are you??

Round Face: Bakugou?

Round Face: We’re getting worried

[12:06]

Bakugou: Shut up I’mm tryibng to sleep

Round Face: it’s me, kacchan

Round Face: i’m borrowing uraraka’s phone

Bakugou: DUEKKU

Round Face: um

Round Face: yes

Round Face: are you okay?? You’re pretty drunk right now

Bakugou: I’M FUCKIBG FINE DEKU THIUS IS YOUHJR FAYULT

Bakugou: yo hey sorry i took his phone

Round Face: ??????

Bakugou: sorry he just came to my apartment?

Bakugou: hes okay i just got him on my couch

Round Face: who is this?

Bakugou: oh my names kirishima

Bakugou: nice to meet you!

Bakugou: i guess youre kacchans friend?

Round Face: he wouldn’t agree but yes

Bakugou: okay great!

Bakugou: hes totally fine so dont worry about him

Bakugou: oh here let me show you

[Attached: Image (1)]

There’s a picture of Bakugou: sprawled out, tangled in the blanket, drooling.

Round Face: oh good! i’m glad he’s okay

Round Face: he didn’t harass you did he??

Bakugou: i mean he groped me

Round Face: oh no

Round Face: i’m so sorry

Bakugou: does he normally do that?

Round Face: i don’t think so??

Bakugou: then its fine

Bakugou: ish

Round Face: i’m really sorry

Round Face: he just moved into a new apartment so we were celebrating

Round Face: and then my friend goaded him into a drinking contest and he did it even though he can’t hold his liquor for shit

Round Face: oh my god he’s gonna read this later

Bakugou: holy shit

Round Face: but um we just lost track of him??

Round Face: oh where are you by the way we’ll come get him

Bakugou: its fine! i kind of just wanna get to sleep

Bakugou: im room D-15 in the apartment complex

Bakugou: the one near the big grocery store

Round Face: oh!

Round Face: he’s room D-13

Bakugou: no way

Bakugou: hes the new neighbor??

Bakugou: that would explain why he was trying to kick me out of my place

Round Face: oh no

Bakugou: its fine its fine!

Bakugou: do you have his key card? He said he cant find it

Round Face: check his pocket

Bakugou: ok

Bakugou: its in his pocket

Round Face: classic Kacchan

Round Face: are you sure you’re okay with him staying overnight?

Bakugou: as long as he hasnt murdered anyone in the past its all good

Round Face: i

Round Face: i can’t actually guarantee that

Round Face: but i’m 99% sure he hasn’t

Bakugou: good enough i guess

Bakugou: anyway good night!

Round Face: good night!

Round Face: and thank you again!!

Bakugou puts the phone back down.

He stands up and contemplates if he can get away with two murders. Three tops, since Uraraka also has access to that chat. Subtlety isn’t really his thing so probably not.

And, he realizes, he doesn't have the energy to do anything requiring physical strength — he hasn’t eaten. So triple murder is definitely out of the question. His stomach is empty and twisting in on itself. Bakugou pushes himself off the couch, glancing over to the room’s kitchenette. If this guy is really so damn hospitable, he won’t mind Bakugou making himself at home.

Within minutes, he has a full meal cooking: a pot full of rice, eggs in one pan, vegetables sizzling in another. He’s nosing through the cabinets for anything spicy when he hears another voice chime out.

“I really hope you're making enough for two.”

Bakugou rears back, head swinging. The owner of the apartment, he assumes, is leaning over the opposite end of the counter. Red hair hangs around his face, nearly brushing the cutting board from how low he slouches.

A grimace etches onto Bakugou’s face. “Guess you're out of fucking luck, then.”

The man — Kirishima, he remembers from the text log — raises his brows. “So do you always get drunk, crash in a stranger’s apartment, and steal their food?”

Scowling, Bakugou cracks another egg into the pan. Kirishima smiles like the smug bastard he is. He pushes away from the counter and saunters over to Bakugou, whistling low at the sight of his stove. “You a chef or something?”

“This is basic shit.” Bakugou gives him a disdainful look. It fails to make Kirishima’s awful, friendly face fall into shame. “You must be fucking incompetent if this is impressive.”

“Well I’m definitely not good at cooking.” Kirishima breezes on, utterly unperturbed by Bakugou’s commentary. That, or incredibly dense, which wouldn’t be surprising given the color of his shitty fucking hair. It’s obviously dyed, an obnoxious fire-engine red that’s impossible not to look at.

Similarly impossible to ignore is the definition of his body. Wearing nothing but red boxers, Bakugou gets an eyeful of toned muscle, not exaggerated in the least but blatantly visible. They flex when he moves.

Bakugou would call him out for being an exhibitionist freak, only he is in Kirishima’s apartment and is also guilty of walking around in boxers each morning, regardless of company. He’s a lot of things, but a hypocrite is not one of them.

“Tell me you have something with spice in here,” Bakugou grumbles instead, “otherwise this shit is gonna be as tasteless as your apartment.”

It’s the first proper reaction he gets out of Kirishima: a slight frown and a defensive expression. He’s pouting. “My apartment is manly as hell,” he insists.

“Your clock has biceps.” Bakugou’s eyes flicked to the item in question.

“Yeah? That’s way manly. It flexes on the hour.” Kirishima looks proud of this particular detail. He’s completely ridiculous. “If you’re looking for spice, there’s sriracha in the fridge. Get sausages out, too, would you? I need to have some meat with my food. Uh, middle drawer.”

“Make it yourself, then,” Bakugou says, even as he finds them. He sets the package of sausage links and a red bottle out on the counter. “Turn the heat on the rice down,” he commands.

When he puts the plates out, it’s one of the most unconventional meals he’s ever made. Kirishima devours it like an animal, zero table manners except for the gracious way in which he thanks Bakugou. He at least has the decency to cover his mouth as he exclaims, “This is really good!” around a mouthful of rice.

Kirishima sets down his fork with a noisy clink when he’s finished. He’s grinning, plate empty, chin propped up on his knuckles. “Dude,” he starts, “my man. Cook for me.”

Bakugou gives him a flat look. “What.”

“This is good. And like, way healthier than eating out. I need to keep a decent diet, you know. So. Cook for me. We’re next door neighbors, after all.” Kirishima tapped the table, contemplating. “I don’t really have the money to pay you each day, but I could like, do chores for you? Or I buy the groceries and you cook, so you’re pretty much getting a free meal?"

His impulse is to reject it. But, then, it’s actually a pretty good deal.

The thing is, cooking is one of the few things Bakugou doesn’t actually mind doing. He’s good with knives and has a decent sense for flavor. Kirishima isn’t a picky eater. He gets a maid out of the deal.There’s no reason to reject it, except for the fact that he’s sentencing himself to regular interaction with his neighbor.

His admittedly-tolerable, well-muscled, smiley neighbor.

So what he says is, “Full cleanup in my apartment once a week, and you do the dishes that I use when I cook.”

Kirishima flashes him a thumbs up and a toothy grin. His teeth are unusually sharp. Not just the canines, but the molars and incisors, all of them with a point that is as unnerving as it is attractive. “You’ve got a deal, Bakubro.”

“Don’t call me that, shitty hair.

“Pffff. My hair is fantastic, especially once I’ve styled it.”

“Your hair is a fucking eyesore.”

“You’ll learn to love me.”

He would, in fact. Learn to love Kirishima. But for know, he’s stuck with headache-inducing red hair and a laugh that’s too damn loud, but at least he gets a maid out of the deal.

#bakushima #kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #my writing

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