#Ever since I cut most dairy from my life it gets hard.

[iero]

Top 5 desserts?

Ooh, this is hard because (and don't hate me), but I'm NOT a huge dessert person at all unfortunately... Like, 9 times out of 10 I usually skip dessert... But, let's see:

Peanut butter pie

Brownies

Chocolate chip cookies (I'll also take peanut butter cookies!)

Vanilla cupcakes

Oatmilk ice cream bars (These specifically! A total Godsend!)

Thank you Fresa! <3

[maccreadysbaby]

how do I write a character with emetophobia?

Writing Characters with Emetophobia!

from your neighborhood emetophobia haver, aka me!

TW for emetophobia things under the cut (emetophobia is a fear of vomit or vomiting)

so you want your character to have some quirky fear, and the fear of puking is what you landed on! I’m here to tell you what it’s like to have severe emetophobia and what that entails for my life. all of these struggles and symptoms are personal and doesn’t apply to everyone with emetophobia. it is a very individual phobia, this is just how my body and mind reacts

Living with Emetophobia ↴

this post has no real structure, it’s more or less just things that have happened to me. i’ve had this phobia since my inception, so here’s a list of things your characters with emetophobia might do.

Avoiding foods or actions that (probably won’t, but could) trigger sickness: I was terrified to eat anything that contained dairy because — one singular time — I heard that milk makes you throw up if you have a fever and I swore it off from the time I was 8 until I was about 12. I was literally nine years old reading labels in the store for dairy and violently throwing it back on the shelves if it contained it. Not to mention my mother was lactose intolerant (Which I’m not) but seeing her fall at the hands of dairy didn’t make me feel any better about it. During this phase I only ate about three things and you literally couldn’t get me to eat anything else to the point where I was nearly anorexic. Once my friend told me she coughed so hard she threw up and I didn’t let myself cough when I was sick for a long time after. I also ran away from anyone who coughed near me. (I was such a psycho.) Now I will eat most foods given to me, but if something repeatedly offends my stomach, I usually just stop. I’m not so dramatic about it anymore lol. (I am much healthier now, too.)

Literally running away from sick people: I will never forget one time, my brother got sick. I wasn’t even in the same room as him. My mom yelled “maccreadysbaby, can you bring me some wipes?” I did. And as soon as I saw what happened I threw them at her, ran across the house, hid behind the couch, covered my ears and started crying. Another time, my mom informed me that my brother had thrown up while I was not home for a few days, and I avoided him like the plague. Literally like I would die if I touched him. My parents stopped telling me if my siblings got sick while I was away after that. When I was in gradeschool, a classmate got sick on a Tuesday and I was fine for the rest of the week. Then I puked on Saturday. For years afterwards, if I was ever around a sick person, I’d always count four days and if I didn’t throw up on day four, finally relax. (Again, I was such a psycho.) This instinct is still here as an adult. For example, my sister just recently thought she was gonna get carsick (while I was in the back with her) and let me tell you I was so squished up to my door I couldn’t breathe. I still sort of do the day counting thing if I’m completely honest, but I’m not so terrified and incessant about it.

Thinking that they’re sick all the time: This was a terribly big thing for me. For a span of 5ish years, at the same time I swore off dairy, I basically categorized myself as gonna throw up all of the time, even when I was perfectly freaking fine. I woke up, assumed I would puke that day, because why wouldn’t I, and triggered my anxiety. Which would actually trigger stomachaches and stuff. I would sit on the stairs and beg and cry until my parents let me stay home from school, and we almost had to go to court for the amount of school I was missing because I pulled this crap every day. This phase of my life only ended when my mom took me to the doctor (while I was literally fine) and made him tell me I was just anxious and not actually going to puke. (As you can see, I was a very fun child to raise.) I don’t behave this way anymore, but if my stomach does hurt for some reason, I immediately spiral into oh SHITE not HAPPENING territory.

Have debilitating anxiety: This is one of the things on this list that still happens to me regularly. If my stomach hurts in any capacity (even on my period) I am immediately thrusted into I’m gonna freaking puke mode. I get really cold, start sweating, start trembling (like, shake the whole couch trembling) and just sit there while my anxiety eats my brain. I can’t move because some part of me thinks moving an inch is going to make me puke. No matter how much I tell myself you’re fine, you’re not going to puke, this happens to you every day and you haven’t thrown up since you were twelve, you’re being so dramatic, it doesn’t stop. I just have to sit there and wallow in my pain and anxiety until my stomach stops hurting. Then I laugh at myself for being stupid and move on, even though I routinely worry about it coming back throughout the day. If it does I rinse and repeat. If I do puke (which I fortunately haven’t done since I was twelve) I can confidently say there’d be a lot of crying and minimal screaming about how I’m gonna die.

Here’s a recent (as of literally this morning) emetophobic thought pattern for you to analyze, to help you understand what your characters minds might be doing when they’re freaking out:

I received a text that my cousin, who I saw last night, was throwing up. I was still asleep but I woke up and checked my phone anyways. This was my exact thought process.

oh SHITE I was around him, wasn’t I? Well, I guess not a lot, he spoke to me a few times and I was near him at the campfire, but I maybe not enough to make me sick. But you know who was around him? My freaking sister. And if she gets sick there’s no hope for me. oh my GOD does my stomach hurt right now? I think it does. Wait, shut up, maccreadysbaby, you’re being stupid. Think about something else and go back to sleep. Why are you SHAKING stop being so pathetic. Your stomach totally hurts right now. You have plans today maccreadysbaby you can NOT get sick you can NOT be the reason your plans are canceled. I’m totally going to throw up today as life’s way of spiting me. Shut up and go to sleep, you weren’t even around him. But I WAS we ALL were, sitting across the table doesn’t count as being far away. Maybe he just got carsick or has acid reflux or something. Today is Saturday so if I make it to Wednesday I should be fine. But what if I ACTUALLY throw up I don’t even want to think about it oh my God what if I do? Okay, you’re fine, shut up and go back to sleep.

I went back to sleep (eventually) and woke up twice more to go through that entire process again before my alarm went off. It’s basically that on repeat every time I hear of a sick person or my stomach hurts. Fun times 😬👍.

[survivalist-anon]

Log 3: A new breed of man

8:30 am, waking up from another sleepless night. I prepared my usual breakfast of coffee and eggs. After my week leave, it was about time to comeback to the office....or at least what I consider my office. I work at an wildlife rehabilitation center and reserve, since my wonderful history education career didn't pan out in the I hoped it would....I guess I had to fall back on my previous passion...nature, animals and staying as far away from people as I could be allowed to.

I was just about to enjoy the last bite of my eggs until my phone rang. I could see it was my boss, James (head researcher, local forest ranger for the county, and my ever patient boss.).

I pick it up and answer, "Hey James, I'm heading there as soon as I can ".

"Ah no worries, take your time. I just want to phone in a favor of yah, I need you to head to Mr.Bellcaller's hardware store and pick a few fencing equipment and some other gunbins. I texted you the list just in case. You're up for it?"

Since I come in at least an hour later than everyone else at the center, I'm usually the errand girl before my shift begins...it's nothing really, I actually like to help out if I can. The center's fundings have been cut by the town recently, so any amount of help...well...helps.

"You know it, I should be there in a bit. I'll see you later, sir."

Gives his usual chuckle on the other, "that's my girl. You're going to be on light duty for the week, hope you don't mind making the feed and filing paperwork."

Letting out a releaved sigh, I usually hate those duties but this week I sort of want to lay low. "Thanks James, see you later.", I hang up, pack up my work gear.

A half an hour later I'm at the hardware store. Mr and Mrs Bellcaller were one of the last members of one of the founding families here in Pine Hills. They have the town's utmost respect and most of us consider them the town's designated Grandparents. Their grandkids were around but most of their family lives in Portland.

As I'm looking at the list, it's all fencing material, repair equipment and a few tools. "oh boy...well at least it's not that much." As I get the tools, leaving the larger purchases for last, I hear the door bell ringing as another customer comes in.

"Oh good morning. Welcome back to Bellcaller's Tool Shop, how can we help you today?", Mrs.Bellcaller warmly greets them.

A low, stern and curt tone gently bellowed within earshot, "Greetings, I again require the following building necessities. If your business provides them. It would be greatly appreciated by me and my brothers.", if concrete had a voice....I just heard it.

I head up to the counter and what I find can only be described in one phrase. That is one HUGE man.

An extremely tall, double....no....tripled built man, his muscles taking a space that was only matched by his aura, whom already looked visibly constraint from the claustrophobic space he was in was being attended by Mrs.Bellcaller.

"Oh goodness, well thank you young man. I would also very much appreciate helping you.", she didn't seem mind this guy's absolutely strangeness, couldn't she see that this guy was easily 7 or 8 feet tall. He was dressed up in work casual construction clothes. This man was a monument in a hard hat.

I could barely comprehend what I was looking at... until his smell hit my nostrils. It was a harsh, musk, this guy was what a buffalo was to a regular dairy cow. That wasn't even the strangest part, his stench was doing things to me I'm too embarrassed to elaborate on....I haven't felt this crazy level of sexual high in my life. As I looked at one of the other patrons too see if I wasn't hallucinating what I was feeling, I saw one of the wives of the local farmers here picking up an order. I've never seen another woman so publicly hot and bothered, she couldn't stop looking at him. I'd be worried if I was her husband.

As for me, I was huffing, my heart pounding, I actually thought I was having a panic attack....no...this was so primal I was visibly embarrassed. I couldn't look away from him. Tall, the apex of masculinity, he literally was everything anyone would want out of a man... well physically so to speak.

But he was lazor focused. He didn't look around, he didn't even acknowledge anyone around him. His gaze was harsh, yet...it wasn't scary. It's the same look most men in the military give.

As for Mrs.Bellcaller, I could barely imagine what she's feeling.

She comes back out with a sizable box of industrial nuts and bolts, a few hammers and a farming drill used for drilling holes in much harder clay deposits.

"Oh and the concrete mix is just out in the back, Jack is loading up for you as we speak deary.", she casually notified him.

The man's expression had not changed, but his toned softened at the unexpected help, "Please pardon my ill-kept manners, madame. I shall assist your husband.", he placed a small bag in front of her. She simply takes the bag and places it under the counter for later. "Thank you, your business has been most essential to our cause."

"Oh thank you sweetheart, have a blessed day.", as she waved to him, the man released his 'parade rest' position and robotically walk out the door, carefully trying not to hit the doorway.

It felt like forever, a just a still silence, with the hefty sent of literal manhood still lingering in the store.

"God Dang it, finally that brick shit house has left the building. Smelling like a bull in its worst rut possible, do folks don't know how to shower anymore?! Come on Bridgette!", the man leaves with his wife in tow, probably feeling as emasculated as possible looking at the guy.

"~oh my lord!", it's clear she got it a lot worse since she was across the aisle from him.

I sheepishly walked to the counter, my head was starting to slowly clear. "...ugh...wow...ugh...oh..yeah..um...d-do you have this fencing stuff Mrs Bellcaller?"

How was she so damn calm? She isn't even breaking a sweat....

"Oh hellow Lorey, how are you doin love? Are you doing better? I was mortified when I heard what had happened to Micheal, my dearest condolences.", she gave me a concerned look. She was the closest thing to a real grandmother I could ever ask for.

"Oh, I'm doing better, thank you for asking...also..ugh is it hot in here or something?", I just needed to make sure I wasn't just losing composer because of my hormones.

She giggled a little, "Oh no, but don't worry sweetheart I don't blame you. That gentleman has been coming her for three years now. Handsome fella too! I just love seeing how the men here get all riled up when he and his brothers from that work come over for supplies."

"b-brothers?", I ask.

"oh yes! All just as tall as him.", as she finished her statement Mr.Bellcaller came from the back.

"ooowee. If ain't for Bill paying for all the equipment he buys we'd be out of business by now Margaret. Fine boy too. Just wondering why is he so high strung. Worse than the soldiers up at Tillamook.", he wiped his forehead of his sweat.

"Bill?", I ask again.

"Oh hey Lorey, yep. His name's Bill. Bill Dorn, must be German or something. Anyways, I see yeah need new fencing? Hmm, hopefully we'll be getting some better quality stuff soon. Folks around here have been investing more and more in home protection.", he gave a short jolly smile.

"ah, I can imagine. Again thanks for the help."

After a few minutes of loading the rest of the equipment, I waved goodbye to the Bellcaller's and headed to work. The lingering.... inappropriate thoughts...still putting in a mood I hadn't felt in months.

I arrived at work around 9 or so. With equipment in tow.

"Well well well, if it ain't 'Bear Grills' herself, how's it going!", Jonas, a coworker of mine greeted me with her usual energy. "I heard yah almost bit the dust, what happened?", it was less out of genuine concern and more out of morbid curiosity.

I let out another, exhausted sigh, "it was a big...metal man... with spikes all over his body...I shot an arrow at him...and....boom...'sloded. I have no idea what else happened or why it did.", the story had become shorter and shorter every time I tell it.

"ah what! That's so cool! Is it true that it killed yo-", James walks in hearing a potential fight happened, "That's enough Jonas! Ah there you are Lorey, thanks for stopping by Bellcaller's. Any news from town?", James was always quick to stop any infighting amongst the staff.

"yeah ugh....do any of you know a guy named Bill Dorn?", I see only one person in the office who could have any information on him.

"Oh I know Dorn and his 'brothers'", it was Jeff....

".....what the hell is he doing here?", I already was geared up by Jonas, I didn't need Jeff making it worse for me either.

James unfortunately was reluctant to answer, "Ah yes, Deputy Jeff-"

" Sheriff Deputy Jeff. I have to use the official title now. As per agency policy.", interrupting James.

".... Sheriff Deputy Jeff Colt wanted to stop by as check on you, that's all." By this point, I only knew center had my back because everyone at the wildlife center has had a run in with local PD, most of which resulted in arrests.

"Yes, and I insist on making sure you're safe. Look I understand our past hasn't been the most peachest. But, I still love you.", the sugar in that confession was enough to kill an elephant.

"anyways, I wouldn't go near that...freak. Damn near crushed my hand when we shook. Almost was tempted in slapping him with an "assault of an officer charge". That big lug just stared at me like he nothing going on inside that skull of his. I say he's no good. Probably just some city-slicker.", he crossed his arms thinking his statements had any weight.

No one in the room gave a shit about Jeff's statement, especially me. Jeffrey Colt has been part of the force for a little over a year and he's become a completely different person. He's gain a lot of weight, he's been over bearing with his duties and has already ruined his reputation as the Pine Hills Highschool football champion because of it.

"If you did, you would have cared about a little more enough not to cheat on me.", I did not care anymore on keeping that part a secret, at the same time no one truly knew the real reason why I broke up with him. We both agreed no to say what it was.

The frustration on his face was visible but even knew what I was doing. "hmf, well. I still care enough to make sure you ain't getting yourself hurt, good day. I've got more important duties to attend to." He leaves in a huff.

James, Jonas and several other volunteers look back at me worried. I look at all of their faces, I clear my throat and redo my ponytail that had gotten a little loose on the way to work.

"I'm fine.... everything is fine. He's just being an idiot.", I grab some of the center's paperwork and head to the filing office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, 30 miles north of Pine Hills:

As the long expansive road stretches on for another few miles, the cramped conditions of the truck begin to finally bother Bill.

"hhhhhhhggggggg", he gently turns on the already broken knob of the truck radio.

"Reports of Mystery Armored Entities continue to rise as the spring season begins. Residence within the Albany county, Portland City limits and even reports as far east of the nation in Utah, Chicago, Michigan, Virginia, Georgia and Florida have be reporting these strange and potentially dang-", Bill changes the station, "You're listening to 106.8 Country F.M, where easy listening goes out West!", as a soft country song starts playing, it eases Bill's mind, helping him focus on his mission back home.

Sternly, he looks ahead of him, turns left off road, heading down a tired trail ment for military personnel long decommissioned.

After the bumpy trail ends, he arrives at a make shift metal wall, guarded by one of the metal men. Wearing striking yellow armor, with an insignia of a black fist held proudly up on his left shoulder.

"Hault, Password!", he shouted.

Bill just dryly rolled his window down and stared at the armored individual. "We need bigger vehicles."

"Password Accepted!", the armored man humored his clearly disgruntled brother, "welcome home Bilhard."

Bilhard, waved, thanking his brother. Driving another five minutes, he arrives at a construction site, one that had been painstakingly built in secret for several decades, as expansion for the sit now extends for an unknown amount of feet underground.

"hm, time to continue the Emperor's good work.", gets out of his cramped truck, stretching his arms out.

End of log 3

@kit-williams

[the-eclipse-is-in-me]

Fanfic

Hi babes, I just finished Chapter 7 of my Fanfic, It's Death or Victory on Ao3, and was wondering it I should start putting it on here as well for people that somehow survive without Ao3. So I'm going to put down the First chapter to see what y'all think.

Chapter 1: People Watching (Cresent's POV)

Its been 2 years since I arrived at camp, 2 years since I was claimed as a child of Hades, and 2 years of being completely, utterly, alone. Cabin 13 was usually empty, even if my brother, Nico, just got back from his world-saving quest with the seven. He’s been back for three weeks, but obviously, he decided to spend them with his “definitely not boyfriend” Will Solace, my cousin. He’s an Apollo kid and the Head healer, so I already didn’t see him much, given his almost never-ending shifts. Now he hangs out with my brother, cutting bandages and doing whatever other stuff they do in the infirmary, so I had no one to talk to.

I know it’s weird for someone to be in a place for 2 years and not have any friends, but that is not the case, I do have friends, for example, Rachel, the oracle and my mentor since I took an interest in art. The problem was that it was the middle of September and she wasn’t here right now, which was very sad for me. So it has been me, my dairy and my growing army of characters in my little notebook.

That all changed on the faithful day I met the brilliantly annoyingly, crazily amazing, child of Nike, Quinn Victory. I had decided that “Hey, maybe we should go get some sunlight and fresh air, and train with our sword since it has been a while.” I got up, found my magic headband in case I decided to practice some archery on my way back and walked out the door.

When I had finally reached the training grounds, I found someone already there, wiping vigorously at the training dummies, as if they had said something very bad about their mother’s cooking (which I would have fought tirelessly for). In their hand, I saw the worst thing that fool could have been holding at the time, my training sword. I can’t say it was my sword cause I didn’t have one, the only weapon in my possession was my magic headband/bow/staff I had gotten from Artemis as a gift for completing a quest for her that for some unknown reason, known of her hunters could do themselves, (they DID NOT take that well).

I loved my bow, but I was also quite skilled at fighting with a sword and daggers (I’m a girl of many talents, and few words, except for my dairy)

Whoever the person was, they were using the one sword I felt comfortable with, and there for worked very hard to hide. Because I was also an idiot, I marched straight for them and almost got impaled by a sword going right for my heart. If it had not been for my quick reflexes and powers, I could have died. Though the burst of energy did send me falling on my butt.

When I focused again, I found a hand outstretched towards me, and attached to that hand was one of the prettiest faces I had ever seen. I still don’t know how I had managed to miss it before, but now that I had seen it, I definitely wouldn’t be getting it out of my head anytime soon. “Why did it look familiar, though” The figure in front of me had the most solid gold eyes I had ever seen and curly red hair with a fiery orange that fell onto it in just the right way. I wanted to stay in that moment forever, but I quickly remembered why I was there.

I swatted their hand away, because chivalry is dead, and got back onto my feet. I dusted myself and turned around before I embarrassed myself any further. I ran to the infirmary the moment the cute redhead was out of sight and pushed through the door. I found my brothers (since I consider Will my brother and as I said before he’s my cousin) having a conversation about something to do with Star Wars, Will’s favourite movie franchise and I abruptly interrupted them with the most important question of our time, (ok, fine, of the next week of my life, but still) “Who is the red-head in the training area?” Will gave me an exasperated look, though I was too distracted to worry about his conversation with Nico.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, moon,” Will answered, already getting up from his seat to get the camper files. “Well, they had beautiful, solid gold eyes, and red hair with orange highlights, tan skin and you know that sword I usually use while training, they used it with such ease and flow, if I didn’t feel like training, I would have sat there for hours to watch.” “Wait, did I say that part out loud, well there goes the secret in secret crush”

“Well, I think I found his file, their name is Quinn Victory, non-binary and gender-fluid. They got to camp 2 years ago, same as you.” Will responded, to my internal panic and dismay. “Did you just say Quinn Victory, the same Quinn Victory that betrayed me a year ago, but everyone was too busy with the quest to care? That Quinn turned into the beautiful person I just saw outside.” “There was absolutely no way he became that hot, stupid traitor”

I was not getting a crush on the one person who bothered to notice me and then ditched the moment they got the chance.

Here is the rest of it on Ao3

It's Death or Victory - Cresent_Solace - Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Tell me what you think.

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place. 

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon. 

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful. 

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer. 

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum. 

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.” 

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart. 

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle. 

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.” 

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy.  “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back. 

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…” 

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.” 

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.” 

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation. 

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think. 

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night. 

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk. 

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted. 

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen. 

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert. 

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.” 

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.” 

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you. 

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him. 

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first. 

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.” 

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache. 

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.” 

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too. 

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.”  You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking. 

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's. 

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist. 

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin. 

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?” 

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting. 

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another. 

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.” 

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room. 

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

[ughdontbeboring]

Highway to heaven

ok so uh…this is my first time posting something I’ve written, idk why this particular one keeps begging to be posted it’s antsy af and I hurt my own feeling, I wrote it monthsssss ago and just went back to add to it sooooo here yall go 😩 also no permission giving for anyone to reuse this in any form, but please reblog, like, leave nice comments all that good shit 😘

also written with PoC in mind (though the only mention of something specific is hair) and not really sure what warnings to tag so if any just let me know!

now let me go hide 😁😁😁

x

She stretched one of her arms out the window, Feeling the air rushed past it, pushing her arm up and down. Her smile completely contagious. She was the happiest she had been in the past few weeks and August knew it. He didn’t need to be around her that whole time to know, he always seen it the moment she saw him and her mind could process he was alive and back with her.

Since he came home less then 24hrs ago from his most recent mission, he hadn’t seen the smile drop from her face, he knew she could say the same about him.

Usually he drove but he couldn’t resist when she begged him to let her drive his super expensive white sports car. He obviously didn’t get to drive it much as he was always away, and when he was home he mostly spent it trapping her in their bed or away on a surprise vacation, like today. After hours of catching up and fucking her on every surface of their shared home he surprised her with a week away in a cabin. The cabin was his own and was well equipped to deal with anything that may arise, completely secured.

He knew he could be called back into work at any moment but he had good insight that he’d have at least a week where he wouldn’t have to leave her or the cabin. Maybe just for more champagne and her favorite dairy free ice cream depending on her mood during their stay but that was it about the only thing that could get August to leave.

Her laughter brought him back to the present moment. He smiled as he turned to her.

“Yes?”

“I asked if you like what you see Walker” she said throwing him a quick flirty look over her shoulder before focusing on the road. “Your staring at me all doe eyed” she giggled.

He laughed and shook his head, he was completely smitten and they both knew it. Anyone who spent time around them could see it was mutual. For as hard and cruel of a man as August was and seen as, she was his weakness. His weakness and strength actually, because he would do any and everything for her and that could be used in either way. She was the light in his life and she loved him completely, wholly.

“I love what I see actually” He answered staring at her again, watching her bite her lip as a smile took over her face. Her eyes caught his for a moment as she ran her hand down the side of his face, nails and fingertips leaving a tingling trail behind, as he stored this moment and everything about her in his memory, he would need it for when he left on this next mission. Bringing anything personal or that would lead anyone back to her was not an option for him. She was well aware of what he did and why she couldn’t call, only wait for his calls. He pushed it from his mind, praying it would be a while before he had to leave her again.

She hummed to the music as they noticed the traffic up ahead, must be road work August thought. His fingers tapped the car door as his arm lazily hung half in and half out. He noticed her head snap down causing her long box braids to sway. She looked toward her feet, her face confused when she looked back up ahead of them.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

Her stomach dropped and her skin turned to ice as she her eyes went back and forth between her foot and the traffic coming closer up ahead. She was unable to form words to tell him, her mind raced with what to do. Her face turned to him completely in fear, mouth slightly parted in a silent cry. August body went tense, rigid as a steel rod as he slowly grasped what he thought was happening, it can’t be.

The brakes

Someone cut the breaks

August looked up at the traffic in the distance that they were speeding towards, he had to push back the thought who and of when someone would have had the opportunity and focus on what was happening. His mind snapped out the fog when he heard her.

“August!”

She was trying to pump the break, willing it to start working as tears ran down her face.

“August it isn’t working!” She yelled.

August scanned the scene in front of them. Up ahead was dead stop traffic, and on their sides, woods and then metal railings dividing it from the other on coming traffic. There was no clear opening to drive into. The traffic would cause head on collision which had a high chance of death and the railing along the left sides of them also had a high death rate surprisingly. The trees and boulders of the right side weren’t an option either. He couldn’t eject them out of the car at this speed, especially with the traffic that’s following further behind them. Cars wouldn’t have enough time to stop if they didn’t notice their body’s on the pavement. Another sure death.

He looked up at her as her own eyes searched looking for an exit, an out point. Her face slowly succumbing to grief as she realized they had none. Every option a high chance of death with the speed they were going.

The knot in August stomach was a feeling he had never felt before. He had been so careful with her, to keep her out of the line of danger. Some how he had missed something and literally put her in the front seat of danger.

“Turn the steering wheel towards me and get down! By the time we make impact-“

“No!....No!” She yelled through her tears and sobs, she had realized what he was trying to do. He wanted to take the impact, he wanted his life on the line not hers.

“Please August! There must be another-“

“There isn’t!! Turn the wheel now!! We don’t have time!” He yelled as the traffic got closer. Their speed closing the distance fast.

Her eyes danced over his face for a moment, a dreadful feeling growing in her stomach and spreading through her body, it was completely unbearable. She couldn’t live life without him. It wasn’t possible, she loved him too much. She would die for him.

“I’m so sorry August, I love you” she said as she stared into his eyes, praying he seen everything she wouldn’t have time to say to him again. Her words were a wrecking ball into his very existence, it shattered his world.

His hands shot out to grab the wheel, as the understanding what she was saying hit him. It was too late though, she was turning the wheel and swinging the car in the opposite direction from what he instructed. If he tired to grab the wheel now he’d only cause the car to flip into traffic. He had no doubt her side would make impacted as the car swung and headed to slam into traffic.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, she wouldn’t. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw even if it meant watching his desperate fight to save her. His eyes wild and full of fear, tears falling freely as he looked back and forth frantically before they finally landed on hers. Defeated.

She was a lively young woman she loved life before August BUT life with August was unmatched. So when she smiled at August, the kind of smile that told him she had been happier in the last 4 years with him then she had been her whole life, he felt his blood go cold.

No. He couldn’t give up. Not ever, especially not when she smiled at him like she was willing to lose it all to save him. She already saved August everyday of his life since he’s meet her. Saved him over and over again without even knowing it. When she snuggled into his chest late at night, barely awake, running her fingers through the lite fur of his chest hairs and lazily kissing the same spot she saved August, save him from night terrors of all the horrible things he’s done. When they swam naked in the Caribbean ocean off a secluded beach on that one vacation early on in their relationship and her wet body pressed into his begging for more kisses under the moonlight she saved him from ever wondering what life without love was like. What could life ever be without her? That kinda of world didn’t make sense to August.

August grabbed at her to pull her closer to his side, but her seatbelt prevented him from shielding her body with his when they felt the impact and then instantly the loud crash and breaking of glass completely over taking his senses before everything went black..

part 2 unknown

[5lazarus]

The Domestics

Alistair runs into an older elven woman on the battlements, watching the children play in the Skyhold courtyard below. They get to talking: isn't it nice that the mages get to keep their children now? Then, in the course of the conversation, Alistair figures it out. Alistair says, “I always wondered. What my life would’ve been like, if she could’ve kept me. I always kinda knew she didn’t have a choice. King’s bastards are the king’s, not whoever carried them. If she were a servant and if I’d end up in the kitchens or, better yet, the dairy. I really like cheese. But if she were a mage, I guess we never had any of that. Unless she ran away.” Read on Archive of Our Own here.

It’s snowing at Skyhold, which delays Alistair’s plans by a day. Anora cuts him loose, locking herself in the ambassador’s heated room with her furs, and he wishes he could change into less fine clothes and join the children in their snowball fight, or wander into the kitchens and see if he can sweet-talk the cook into giving him something hot and sweet to drink. He’s king, so he could ask for all the chocolate in Seheron, and doubtless the Inquisition would try to give it to him.

He walks the battlements so less people will see him and watches the battle in the courtyard below. The Inquisitor’s children seem to have made common cause with the servants’ kids against the visiting nobility; honestly it’s just a relief to see that it isn’t human against elf. Alistair, a tad self-conscious, touches his right ear. An older elf is watching them, smiling. Alistair wonders if she’s the mother of one of them below.

“Which one’s yours?” Alistair asks.

The woman says, “I’m only watching them for the Inquisitor. I’m their guard.” She’s got short black hair, threaded with silver, but her eyes are lively enough. She’s wearing green robes with a bit of Dalish-looking embroidery at the ends of her sleeves. She’s got an Orlesian accent, too. He didn’t know the Inquisition was working with elves from Orlais, didn’t Anora tell him to keep an eye out for Ambassador Briala’s livery?

“Oh.” He shouldn’t feel awkward, but he blushes anyway. He stares at the woman’s feet, toes poking out of those foot wraps, and wonders how on earth she’s not freezing. Alistair’s got a coat of heavy wool, trimmed in fur.

The woman notices he’s staring and says, matter-of-fact, “My circulatory system is different than yours. We conserve heat more efficiently than your people. Besides, I’m a mage. It’s easy to keep warm.”

That has him a bit miffed. Of course he knows elves are biologically different than humans; they can still breed, though. He’s evidence of that. He doesn’t feel the cold as intensely as the others at court, and he knows why. The servants at the palace can tell, even if he passes, for the most part. Eamon and Tegan talk all the time about how much he looks like his father, how much he looks like Cailan, but he’s seen enough portraits of them both to know how he differs.

Alistair says, again, “Oh. Cool. I’m half, you know.” It’s not that he’s discouraged from talking about it, but it’s never been something to advertise. Those with eyes to see it don’t need to be told, but right Alistair feels like he needs to justify himself, with the way she’s looking at him. Skyhold has had him wrong-footed; Leliana has been distant and he is finding it harder and harder to slip away from the King. Anora tells him that’s part of adulthood. He’s not so sure.

The woman says, “I know.”

Alistair folds his arms. “Really? Because I didn’t. What’s your name, by the way?”

The elf smiles sadly. “Fiona. I used to travel with the Grey Wardens, when I was young.”

Alistair says, “Really? The Grey Wardens don’t really let people leave. Unless, you know, you point out that yet another civil war is going to break out if they don’t let you put your ass back on the throne. What was your excuse?”

Fiona says, “I had a baby. It’s hard to keep a nursery going in the Deep Roads. The darkspawn get jealous.”

“Oh. Can’t be having that, they’re crabby enough as it is. Though I heard of a Warden who brought his cat into the Deep Roads too, scratched out the eyes of a hurlock apparently. You’re lucky, most of us can’t have kids. I can’t. Probably.” He thinks about his own natural daughter with Tabris and blushes at the lie, rubbing at the back of his head. It’s for her own good and the good of the realm he hasn’t brought her to court. It’s not an excuse, it’s a reason, and Morrigan has the spare heir anyway, if Anora can’t figure something out.

Fiona says, “I suppose it’s luck. The Circle took him away from me, and gave him back to his father.” She sounds wistful. “But under the Inquisition, the mages keep their children. It’s a different world now. There’s no going back.”

He thinks to himself, I’m not so sure—the disastrous plans for the Hinterlands, the riots in Denerim, the failure of the embassy in the Brecilian forest. He thought after the Blight, with this new alliance between elves, dwarves, and men, there would be no going back. Anora tells him it’s a struggle for the future and that reform doesn’t come in a day, perhaps not even their lifetime: sometimes they need to settle for establishing the groundwork for the next person to rule, like Maric did for them. But of course, Anora’s never had her cousin kidnapped and brutalized, or her father sold into slavery. That sort of perspective changes things.

Alistair says, “Really?” He scratches his head. “I look at things in Ferelden and wonder how things can stay so stagnant, and then you look at Orlais and how they’re eating themselves alive. And Orzammar, of course, which is basically a living fossil. People don’t like change. They’d prefer for things to stay the same, or even go back to how they were a generation ago.” He is surprised at the bitterness in his voice.

Fiona cocks her head and looks at him curiously. She says, “You’re too young to be talking like that. You must understand it comes in seasons—we flourish in spring and reap our harvest in summer, and then prepare for and suffer through the conservative reaction in winter. Sometimes it’s a harsh winter, and many do not survive. But then there is always the spring. You lived in Ferelden, you should know—from the Night Elves who freed your people from the Orlesian occupation to Clan Alerion securing the boundaries of the Hinterlands now, things have changed. You just need to…riot every so often, to make sure no one gets complacent.” She grins.

It’s nice to talk politics with someone who doesn’t know who he is, who thinks he’s just another wealthy Ferelden currying favor with the Inquisition, not a king staring down the religious cult that just carved itself a city-state at the border of his realm. Below the children are yelling. A couple of them are using magic to freeze the snowballs, and they’re having a fierce debate, interspersed with throwing said ice balls, on whether that’s fair.

Alistair says, “Then I hope you’re right. I hope the mages and the Inquisition’s made enough of a, er, spring, to shake things up. It’s good for these kids to stay with their families, I hated what the Circle did. I didn’t know my mother, growing up. Would’ve avoided a lot of angst if I’d gotten to meet her.” He thinks about Morrigan and her awful mom, and then Goldanna flashes through his mind. Ashamed, he pushes the thought away. “Or maybe it would’ve made it worse! Hard to say, I certainly don’t know!” He smiles at the woman brightly.

Fiona says, “It might have made it worse, since she was an elf. Your life would’ve looked very different, even in Ferelden.”

His heart stops. Surely she doesn’t know who he is. That could be awkward, considering what he’s been saying. Anora will be furious that he’s gone off and talked politics with another random person again. He can’t help it, he gets bored easily, and the courtiers and advisors only tell him what they think he should want to hear.

“How do you know I’m Ferelden?” Alistair asks suspiciously.

“You’re wearing the badge on your fur coat. And, of course, your accent. Unless I am mistaken?”

“No, no,” Alistair says. “But yeah. Sorry. I don’t know much about her. Don’t know if she’s still alive. Just that she was an elf. Always assumed she was a serving woman or something, if my father was anything like C-Caleb.”

Fiona says, “Sometimes it’s better not to think about it, how we came into the world. I never met my parents either.” She leans against the balustrade and shakes her head at the kids fighting in the courtyard below. They’ve devolved into outright brawling, but that weird Warden the Inquisitor keeps around her has waded into the fray, bellowing orders. “It’s good to see them playing again. They never had enough time to play.”

“When were you a Warden?” Alistair asks. “You know, my dad travelled with the Wardens too. But they didn’t make him join up—guess that’s why I’m here, ha-ha.” He wants to ask her if she ever met him, because they might have overlapped. It’s hard to tell with elves sometimes though, they age more slowly, but she looks like she’s in her late forties, a bit careworn. Then he decides he really doesn’t want the conversation to get weird, because he is a king and his father was a king, and it’s rare that someone speaks to him normally now—treats him like the lovable idiot he knows he is, not the history-breaking king.

Fiona says, “Oh, give or take thirty years or so. I try not to count the years, at my age. My people live a long time if left unmolested, but I have a knack for running into trouble.”

Alistair laughs. “Oh, me too! I don’t even mean to do it, I’ve just never learned to keep my mouth shut.” To Teagan and Anora’s chagrin, he thinks ruefully. “I was given to the Templars as a boy, before I managed to get the Wardens to take me, and Maker! The Mother despaired of me. Called me most the accidental heretic she’d ever known. Really the Wardens taking me saved my life, Maker knows what they would’ve done to me if I kept poking at them like I was.”

Fiona pauses, trying to suppress a laugh, and then says, “At least you’ve never started a war.”

Alistair laughs heartily at that. Then he realizes what she’s said. “Wait, what? You started a war?”

Fiona says, “You…you didn’t know?”

Alistair says, “Is there something I should know?”

Fiona steps away, smoothing her expression away. “Many things.” Anxiously she peers down into the courtyard, smoothing her sleeves over her hands. The two factions of Skyhold children have joined forces and are attacking Blackwall with snow, but another one of the Inquisitor’s companions has joined the fray—a cackling elvhen girl, and then Alistair sees that from the balcony of the inn there’s a mustachioed mage swatting snowballs away from his friend.

Alistair says, “You never asked me my name.”

Fiona glances at him and then turns away. “I didn’t need to. You look very much like your father. Though I suppose you must know that.”

Alistair opens his mouth and then closes it. He says, voice hoarse, “Did you ever—“ He stumbles over his words, and clears his throat. “Did you ever find out what happened to your baby? When the Circle took him away.”

Fiona hesitates. The silence between them is filled with the children laughing below, the mage grandiosely chanting what are clearly made-up words, and the old Warden dramatically pretending to be overwhelmed by the volley of snow. The elven girl is swearing revenge, right now. It looks the children are trying to steal the “body” and make a pyre out of snow.

Alistair says, “I always wondered. What my life would’ve been like, if she could’ve kept me. I always kinda knew she didn’t have a choice. King’s bastards are the king’s, not whoever carried them. If she were a servant and if I’d end up in the kitchens or, better yet, the dairy. I really like cheese. But if she were a mage, I guess we never had any of that. Unless she ran away.”

Fiona covers her face with her hands.

Alistair continues, “Then, yeah, being apostates suck. Believe me. I met a girl who lived in a swamp. But I think we could’ve made it work. Like since I pass, and I’m not magic—at least I don’t think so, but I think I’d know by now? I’m like, thirty-five. Or something. I could’ve gone to the villages and traded for food. And I would’ve known more about who I am. Than just Maric’s bastard. Who’s just a story, anyway. That’s how kings like that end up. Just stories.”

His mother is weeping now.

He says, “I have no idea how you started that war you said you did. But I think I know what I’m supposed to know.” He takes a step closer, and she doesn’t move. He says, helplessly now, “I think I have your eyes.”

Fiona leans against the balustrade, back to the courtyard below. She’s not crying now, but she’s not making any sound. Alistair is afraid to go closer. Her hands press into her face like a mask, restraining a scream. He thinks if he touches her, all that tension will explode. He gets overwhelmed like that too. Can you inherit that sort of thing? He has to wonder, does the way one expresses pain get passed down in the blood?

He waits for her to speak. A door behind them creaks open, footsteps scuffle to a stop, then retreat. The door shuts. The mage has come down into the courtyard now and is chanting what appears to be Nevarran over the pile of snow that is Blackwall’s pyre. The elven girl is leading the children in mourning—but then the mage flourishes, and the snow glows purple, then scarlet, then green as he sparks. Blackwall throws the snow off and roars. The children cheer.

Fiona breathes heavily, drawing herself out of wherever she retreated. She swipes at her face with her sleeves. She says, “Forgive me. It was better that you didn’t know. You couldn’t have become—you deserved—Maric needed—what are you going to do, I told the Divine to go fuck herself, you can’t have a mother who told the Divine—“

Alistair says, impressed, “You told the Divine to go fuck herself? I am your son, I knew it had to come from somewhere! This is your fault!” He gestures at himself, and Fiona manages a laugh.

“An exaggeration,” she says. “I merely said the Divine should fuck herself, right before we voted to dissolve the Circles and separate from the Chantry. I’d hoped to tell her that at the Conclave, which is why they sent Orsino rather than myself.” Her mouth twists into a rueful smile. “Perhaps the only time running off my mouth and losing my temper has saved my life.”

Alistair says, “Well, the Divine was kind of an ass. Somebody had to say it.” He laughs. “Oh, this is wonderful. My mother, the rebel mage.” He’s genuinely delighted, this is much cooler than anything he came up with as a boy. “This is so cool. Anora’s going to be so annoyed when I tell her. Not like she can complain, her dad betrayed the realm and got all the Wardens killed, so really on the scale of shitty in-laws, I win.” He pauses: he isn’t sure he conveyed what he wanted to by that. Fiona is just staring at him. “But seriously, I don’t know who you are. Besides, obviously, my mother.”

Fiona says, disbelief in her voice, “I’m the Grand Enchanter."

Alistair says, “Oh Maker, I should’ve recognized the belt, shouldn’t I?”

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Spy and a very laid back love interest who is always bugging them to "just relax" and "chill a little bit"?

Oh god, this would be the best dynamic EVER. Spy would learn to chill and the partner would learn to care. It’s just...so wholesome...

Non-Emergencies:

Spy would simultaneously be trying to keep up his face-of-stone persona while also hyperventilating.

“Do...is the screw under the sofa? Perhaps next to the TV stand? If we don’t use every piece it may fall apart. Sacre...do you even care at all?!”

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, you know what, let’s hear it.”

“Pardon?”

“If we don’t find the screw, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“YOU KILL YOURSELF ON THIS DEATH TRAP DISGUISED AS A SOFA!”

“How?”

You got him there. He thought for a while, not wanting to admit he was wrong. While he was pondering, you lift up your leg and you find the lost screw. You had been sitting on it.

“Looking for this?”

Spy snatched the screw away from you, cursing under his breath. You can’t help but snicker.

“Listen, if furniture killed, IKEA would have gone out of business long ago.”

“Oui, oui, you are hilarious. Hon hon hon.”

“Aw, you’re so cute when you get all worried about me.”

“Go to hell.”

“Only if I can take you with me.”

After Work:

A lot of times, Spy will come home from jobs absolutely exhausted. He usually finds comfort in you. The Frenchman has told you when he was particularly tired that you “smell like home.” If you are still up, he’ll sit next to you on the couch and eventually fall asleep on your shoulder.

However, every once in a while, he will walk through the door, his eyes wide, his body shaking, and his hair a mess. After those nights, he is always jumpy and anxious for the next week or so.

During those periods, you make sure to give him some extra TLC. You take over meal duties for a while, you make sure to watch shows that don’t have gunfire, screaming, or combat, and you make sure to pour positive thoughts back into his life.

“Spy, I saw the cutest Pomeranian! I know you’ve said you always wanted one.”

“My barista was French, and her name is Mimi! I may have a bit of competition...”

“I saw a double rainbow on the way home! My grandpa always said that double rainbows meant a happy marriage - I guess he was right!”

You’d know he’d be feeling better when you’d come home to the smell of camomile and disinfectant...he always cleaned and made tea when he was in a good mood.

It was also his way of “making it up to you.” He’s always embarrassed about his episodes, but you always secretly like loving on him a bit.

He never let you treat him this romantically otherwise - he felt it was his responsibility to swoon.

But, despite his aversion to being spoiled, he always seems to have a smile on his face when you surprise him with gifts and loving words.

Problems With Being Assertive:

Even though you are as kind as you can to everyone, sometimes kindness isn’t enough. But due to your large family and little personal time growing up, you are a little too forgiving when it comes to how people treat you.

Spy, however, is intolerant of any disrespect. He has scared off many telemarketers and belligerent Girl Scouts with his withering looks and sharp words.

One night, you both were at a restaurant, and you ordered a salad to eat before the main course, as this establishment was known for taking their sweet time with dishes.

Twenty minutes later, your salad arrives, absolutely covered in cheddar cheese. Because you’re lactose intolerant, you had ordered no cheese AT ALL, but your salad had so much cheese you couldn’t even see the top of the lettuce.

Now, Spy has an almost scary memory, and knows exactly what you ordered, but he doesn’t say anything except that you should probably ask for another salad.

“This is their job, mon chéri. If they did not do it correctly, that is not your fault.”

You finally do pluck up your courage and ask the waiter to get a salad without cheese.

They are reluctant, saying that wasn’t what you ordered the first time, but a glare from Spy sent them scurrying back to the kitchen. You get a little irritated.

“Honey, they’re trying their best. Working at a restaurant is hard enough already without remaking something I didn’t have to eat.”

Spy raised his eyebrows. “Something you didn’t have to eat? That you expressly asked for? At a restaurant?”

“You know what I mean.”

The salad comes back and it is very obviously the same salad but with handfuls of cheese picked off. There was still quite a bit left.

Spy is now visibly angry, and you look to him for help, but he shakes his head. He wants you to deal with this on your own. You can’t rely on his social bravery forever. He just gestures to the waiter, who is already starting to walk away, and smiles.

You take a deep breath.

“I’m really sorry, but there’s still cheese on it...I can’t...I can’t eat it.”

The waiter rolls his eyes. “If we make your salad again, you’ll have to pay for all three.

“There’s...only two.”

“You sent it back, we remade it, and now you want me to remake it again. Three.”

“But then why did you add cheese this time?”

“You ordered it.”

“I did not order cheese on my salad! I am really, really lactose intolerant! And...and I ordered no cheese so I wouldn’t be throwing up all weekend! So why would I order cheese?”

“You should have informed us of any allergies you had.”

“I did! By asking for no cheese! What, do I need a doctor’s note to eat here?!”

The waiter started to say something else, but you cut him off.

“It wouldn’t even be that big a deal if your food didn’t take an hour and a half to get here! I haven’t eaten since breakfast, because all my orders got backed up! I just wanted a salad! A salad to eat while your gourmet chef put your gourmet dishes in a gourmet microwave! I thought I could come in, talk with my beautiful husband, and eat a little more than I should so I could konk out watching Nailed It! when I got home! I don’t want to argue with you! I just want a damn salad!”

You strike the table, causing your silverware to clink together. You put your head in your hands and massage your temples for a few seconds.

“So. A salad. With no cheese. Not extra, not some, not picked off. None.”

Spy grinned, impressed.

“I would listen to them if I were in your position, mon ami. You have cleaning duty tonight, no?”

The waiter nodded slowly.

“Let’s just say I have to book a hotel when they accidentally eat dairy. It even set off the fire alarm once, didn’t it, dearest?”

You cock an eyebrow, but you agree to play along. He didn’t have to take it that far.

The waiter blushed scarlet and retreated back to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything all night, and followed each of your instructions to a T.

Once you got back in the car, you smacked Spy on the shoulder.

“Set off the fire alarm?! Seriously?”

“I have been lying all day, mon amour. Forgive me if I wasn’t exactly up to snuff this evening.”

“We can never go here again! Ever! I’ll be known as the guy who almost blew up the bathroom!”

“It isn’t such a loss...I much prefer dining in anyway.”

There was a silence. Suddenly, Spy wrapped his arms around you and kissed you so suddenly you almost fell over. He pulled back after a while, taking his mask off.

“You are so irresistible when you’re angry...”

You giggled. “Did I find a sweet spot?”

“Oui. Most definitely.”

“We’re not going to go to the movies, are we?”

“Unless you prefer the smell of stale popcorn to get you in the mood.”

“You had better make it up to me after tonight.”

“Oh, I will, mon chou. I will.”

**************

I know that this is a little shorter than usual, but I wanted to leave a little more to the imagination. Besides, some bigger HCs are coming up, and I don’t want you to be reading a novel every time I answer a request.

Call this a Non-canon Novella!

[lucifers-horror-harem]

Mine

I’ve been obsessed with The Blissfield Butcher (or Quentin Shermer as he is named in the movie) ever since watching Freaky and I knew I just HAD to write something with him. He is definitely going on my character roster for requests once they’re open again! He is way too much fun to write! Plus there are just NOT enough gifs of him so I had to make my own sdfgngfdedfgfd

Warnings: Fighting, violence, and cursing (surprisingly tame for me)

Word Count: 1.6k

The Blissfield Butcher x Gender Neutral Reader

Water droplets slowly dripped down into the bathtub below. Vanilla candles placed around the bathroom flickered ominously. Even though the bath water was scalding hot, all you felt was the cold chill that raised the hair on the back of your neck.

Something felt wrong. 

He was gone. Dead. He wouldn’t hurt you any longer. You were back in your own body. And yet, this skin felt odd ever since you returned. You thought you would feel immediate comfort when you returned, but all you felt was the way your skin crawled. He had lived in your body, worn your flesh, and while you knew you were fine besides the bruises and cuts you had inflicted on yourself trying to face off against the Blissfield Butcher, he had violated you simply by existing under your skin.

Yet something else felt wrong. Your gut twisted uncomfortably as you had the sinking feeling that things weren’t fully settled. But you had seen him die. It was impossible that he could survive as many bullets as he had and still come back for you. 

Shaking your head, you rose from the bath, drying yourself off with a towel and throwing on a bathrobe. You decided you would make yourself a pot of sleepytime tea to calm your nerves, that always helped. As soon as you left the bathroom, that eerie feeling intensified. Your apartment was small, only one bedroom, and you could see most of it just by standing in your room. But you had shut the bedroom door before your shower, you swore you had. You couldn’t help but close every door now, just to feel like you were putting distance between you and every potential threat since the Butcher had come into your life. 

The door creaked as you pushed it open the rest of the way, glancing around the room as you tried to decide if anything else was amiss. Your door was still dead-bolted, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were just being paranoid. Mentally chastising yourself, you made your way to the kitchen to fumble around in the pantry for your tea. 

As you rifled through the box you kept so many of your teas trying to find the right one, your breath caught in your throat. Your heart pounded in your chest. Danger. Your body was frozen in place, afraid to even turn around because you knew exactly who was there. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your throat tightened, your hands shaking as you held the box of tea. You couldn’t stand here forever, in limbo between safety and demise, though you desperately wished you could.

Everything went slow and fast at the same time, nothing registering in your mind properly. You spun on your heel, the figure looming over you in your peripheral. His hands coming up to grab you. You threw the box of tea at his face, little packets strewn into the air like confetti as your ears are filled with the sound of an angry grunt. The shriek caught in your throat as his hands wrapped around your body, attempting to restrain you as you thrashed around against him. As a large hand raised towards your neck, attempting to choke you, you were able to get enough momentum to elbow him in the ribs and stumble away. But the apartment was small, only a few steps backwards and you flipped over the back of the couch, rolling over as you gasped in shock at the sudden lack of equilibrium. An unlit candle sat on your coffee table, and before you could think you grabbed it, holding the hefty jar tightly in your hand as you spun around to meet your attacker.

You stopped dead in your tracks. The Butcher stood mere inches away from you, his dark eyes boring into yours as he glared down at you. After a few moments of fear completely taking over your body, he straightened up slightly, a curious expression on his face. “Well?” he asked, his voice husky and deep in your ears. “Why did you stop? Keep going.”

When you didn’t make a move, he simply strode forward, closing the gap and gripping your wrist, twisting tightly as you cried out in pain. The candle dropped to the ground as you tried clawing your way out of his grasp. He simply watched you struggle futilely, his expression almost bored as he stared down at you trying to free yourself. 

“Why bother fighting this much?" His question only made you fight harder, teeth clenched tightly. No matter how hard you struggled, he wouldn’t budge. "Why struggle to fight for a life that's so depressing?" 

You couldn't help the hurt look you suddenly shot up at him as you looked into his face, expecting a sneer as he beat you down. But he was deathly serious, his face radiating the tiniest hint of… pity? 

"Why act so shocked?" He asked. "I've been in your body. I've seen your life, I know how you must feel." 

Leaning forward, he met your surprised gaze, your mouth gaping as you listened to the words that were coming out of his mouth. The words that made you ill, knowing he was speaking from a place of truth. And truth from the Blissfield Butcher of all people made you want to retch. 

"You feel weak. Defenseless. At the mercy of everyone else. So meek and fearful of what others think." You couldn't look away from his darkened brown eyes, his stare mesmerizing and unsettling all at once. "I know you felt powerful in my body. Probably for the first time in your life you knew that you could fight back and if someone started shit you could defend yourself." When you didn't respond, he asked, "Wasn't it?"

"Shut up." Even the command sounded small and pathetic coming from your mouth. 

The smirk that pulled at his lip made your stomach flip. It wasn’t just that you were bracing yourself for his teasing, it was the fact that there was some sick part of you that found his smile almost cute. For a serial killer with such a gruff exterior, there was almost something boyish about his smile and how it crinkled the sides of his eyes when he did. You wanted to slap yourself for even thinking of him being anything resembling cute or handsome in this moment. 

“Deny it all you want, you know it’s true.” His head cocked slightly, his eyes hooded as he looked down at you with such a smug expression. “You know, you could have done so much damage in my body. Could have killed anyone you wanted. And it would have been blamed on me. Those miserable bastards you work with at your shitty minimum wage retail job? Hell, how about your mother, that cunt deserves it with the way she treats you.” A pause. With a whisper, he asked, “You know what I did to my mother, right?”

The threat hung heavily in the air, your body trembling horribly in his grip. His hold hadn’t slacked the entire time, and yet he wasn’t actively crushing your wrist anymore. All you could do was nod, the words unable to come out. Her decapitated head was found at the local Dairy Queen. Everyone knew that. 

His face softened as he leaned down so you didn’t have to crane your neck up at him. A soft whimper left your mouth as you weakly tried to pull away from him as he urged you closer, your bodies mere inches from each other now. You didn’t know what this was, what he was going to do. You were terrified of the lingering feeling that this was going the way you thought he was taking this. Even scarier was the fact that you were praying for this. 

“You and I both know we’ve dealt with the fucked up shit this world has thrown at us. We’re the only ones who have looked out for ourselves this entire time. And now, the only one who knows just how much we’ve been through is each other.” As you tried to look away, he brushed his hand over your cheek and turned you back to look into his eyes. “No one else can ever begin to know you as well as I know you. I know just how fucking lonely it is with only yourself to keep you company. We’re lucky enough to have this opportunity right now. And you know it. Whether this is what you ever wanted or not.”

He was so close to you, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes that threatened to spill over. He was right. You absolutely hated him for it, but he was right. You had no idea what this even meant, what could even happen from this. But before you knew it, his name blurted from your lips, the name that you had heard so often on the news over the years as the town talked about him every time something new happened in his case. Quentin. 

He closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours as you gasped softly. His hands held your face, hungrily devouring you like a man starved. You held his wrists, not to push him away but to steady yourself. The years of the lack of physical affection for the both of you only amplified each other’s touch. You were almost afraid the lack of genuine affection in his life would destroy you with the sheer force of his desire and need in this moment.

By the time the two of you organically parted, lips parted and panting as you tried to catch your breath, Quentin looked at you with an almost reverence in that moment. “You’re mine,” he panted, large hands brushing your hair back. “All mine.”

[destiniesfic]

For the smut dialogue prompts: Darklina, 30 & 99 🖤

Note: Thanks for the prompt! I set this in one of the modern AUs that lives rent-free in my head, which is why the characterizations here differ from, say, OOT. It is definitely more explicit than my norm, so 🔞, thank you very much. Roughly 1800 words, with dirty talk, some mild comeplay, and edging under the cut.

(list of smut dialogue prompts)

Aleksander always woke up first. That’s how it had always been, even since the early days of their relationship, when they didn’t have a label for what they were. She would wake to find him looking at her, and laugh out of nervousness, and tease, because it long had been a habit of hers to hide her nerves with barbs.

“Do you like me?” she remembered saying. “Gross.”

And he smiled. The lines at the corners of his eyes had been fainter then, but they were there. She already liked tracing them in her mind, mapping them for the inevitable sketches she’d make of his face in the little notebook she kept in her bag.

“I’m starting to,” he murmured, in that voice, with that accent, and she was gone on him.

Later, once they’d moved into the condo together and settled into the rhythm of a life, she was not surprised that he was often up and out of bed before she was. It meant that they had fewer morning trysts, unless he finished his workout early, but it was also weirdly comfortable. She didn’t worry when she woke up and he was already in another room. She knew he would always come find her.

And that meant she could take her own sweet time getting out of bed on the days she didn’t have work. She could pull on one of his old shirts and saunter into the kitchen with it skimming her thighs, and she could raid his—their—fridge for ingredients to make herself a smoothie. (Almond milk was almost as good as dairy milk if it was vanilla and you put a lot of stuff in it, and he was right, her skin had gotten much better since she started swapping it in.)

Aleksander was already in his home office with the frosted glass door closed. She could see his silhouette pacing back and forth in front of it, and hear the low tones of his voice as he spoke emphatically to someone on the phone. She couldn’t make out what he was saying but found herself mesmerized anyway. Even in silhouette form, he was something. Broad shoulders, lean waist, power in his every step.

Alina didn’t realize she was staring until the talking stopped and the door slid back. There was Aleksander, still in his workout clothes, hanging up his cellphone. His shirt, damp with sweat, clung to his torso and she could almost make out the contours of his abs.

“Making breakfast?” he asked, wiping his face on the towel that hung around his neck, and Alina realized she was so distracted she hadn’t even put anything in the Nutribullet.

“You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in,” she said, an easy smile curling the corners of her lips.

“Cheeky,” he said, crossing through the living room to her side of the kitchen island so he could give her a kiss. Alina stood on her toes to receive it. She knew, somewhere in her logical brain, that she should maybe be turned off because he was still sweaty, but the weird fact was that she was kind of crazy about the way he smelled. Supposedly that was a good thing, meant that they were physically compatible. All Alina knew for sure that she wanted to press her face in his neck and inhale until she had her fill.

“I’m serious,” she murmurs against his lips.

She felt his smirk. “Well, you do need to eat regardless. Compliments won’t hit your macros.”

“I can think of a way to get more protein.”

“Alina.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. It was getting long again, a couple of inches past her shoulders—grown out from when she’d cut it for her film debut, nearly two years ago now.

“What?”

His grey eyes sparkled. “That was very bad.”

“You like when I’m a little bad,” she teased. She ran her hands down his shirt, and then followed their path, sinking down to her knees. The kitchen floor was cold, but not unbearably so, and she was distracted anyway, running her fingers around the elastic waistband of his athletic shorts. He was already responding. Just the sight of her on her knees seemed to get him hard.

“I do,” he said, placing a hand on the back of her head. “But I like it better when you’re very good. Can you be good for me now?”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, pulling down his shorts and drawing his cock out of his briefs. And then there was no more talking. She knew it was time to get to work.

To think when she started she had no idea what she was doing. She thought she had to fit the whole of him in her mouth, which was just not a realistic possibility most of the time, and usually made her choke. Now she knew better. Now she knew she could wrap her hand around the base of him, use her other hand to touch while she started just with licks, with brief teases, before wrapping her lips around him for real. (And no teeth, ever.)

He groaned when she really got going, a sound that zinged straight to the core of her. She remembered that back in the day, when she knew so little, some girls, older girls, framed this as a chore. To her it wasn’t, not for the privilege of licking the salt from his skin in the early morning, to glance up at him and see him watching her with those glowing grey eyes. Alina still didn’t know what it was that made him notice her, made him like her, made him want her—talent, sure, but talent wasn’t hard to come by in this town, and he had to be used to seeing it. Maybe she never would never know.

Aleksander pushed on the back of her head a little, and she picked up the pace. He was efficient. He liked things hard, fast, and on his terms. She knew when he was close before he said anything, and she could swallow, but today he tugged her hair and pulled her off of him and growled “Shirt. Off,” and so she pulled his t-shirt over her head and knelt patiently on the floor while he finished himself with his hand. The result was—well, it was splatter on her mouth and chest, which was okay, because it wasn’t her eyes or her hair and she hadn’t showered yet today. Besides, there was something very bad about it, very forbidden, and Alina was still so horny herself that any residual grossness hadn’t really sunk in.

“Aleksander,” she said. “My turn.”

He reached down and took her chin in his hand, brushing a thumb over her lower lip and smearing some of the residue in the process. She shivered. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He asked.

“Aleksander.”

“You know what to say.”

She took a breath, sighed it out, and gave him a roll of her eyes for good measure. “Please?”

And then he was lifting her up like she weighed nothing at all and placing her on the marble countertop. He pressed her onto her back and got his hands on her thighs, pulling up her underwear. “Already soaked,” he remarked, his voice dark with lust, and she shivered. “Does sucking my cock make you wet, Alina?”

“Oh, fuck, Aleksander. Please.” She really meant it this time.

Despite her pleading, which usually drove him to decisive action, Alina quickly realized that he was taking his sweet, sweet time with her. He slipped one finger inside of her, curling it, rubbing back and forth in a way that drove her absolutely crazy and added a second at his own pace. When he finally tugged her underwear off so his head could come to rest between her thighs she moaned so loudly she was sure their downstairs neighbors would hear even though the condo was completely soundproof.

But just as she was inching toward climax, he pulled back, kissing her thigh instead and withdrawing his fingers entirely. She whimpered, and after he decided she had enough time to cool off, he began teasing her again, stopping just before she hit her peak. If her mind wasn’t completely numb with wanting she’d ask him if he had time for this, if it wouldn’t get in the way of work, but if he was taking this time he probably had it to burn. It was so unfair that she was the one set aflame.

“What are you doing!” she finally asked, out of desire, out of despair.

“Yes, haven’t you been good?” he asked, sliding his fingers back inside of her. “Isn’t it fitting you should get a reward?”

“Let me—”

“Don’t you want to come around my cock, Alina?”

Oh, was that what he was waiting for? Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for him to get hard again, with her spread and bare before him. Still, she squirmed. “I want to come.”

“Be patient.” His other hand was no longer on her thigh, or hip, and although she couldn’t see it she could see his arm moving, and she knew he was touching himself. Not too much longer.

She writhed, feverishly hot against the cold marble. “Aleksander, please.”

That did it, it seemed. He took his fingers from her and his hand from himself and gripped her hips to pull her onto him. He groaned, but she practically howled from the relief, and all it took was another push of his hips to push her over the edge of release, the heat in her core spilling into the rest of her body.

He kept fucking her while she was seeing stars, hard and fast—he liked it that way. She was uninhibited, moaning, her nails scratching at the granite. His eyes were on her face, on her breasts, still glistening with his semen. She felt almost like she never stopped coming, like she was suspended in perpetual climax, until somehow she tipped over another cliff and clenched around him and it was just shaking, shaking all over. That did it for him, too, and a moment later he slumped over on top of her, one of his hands closing over her breast, breathing hard.

“Oh, god,” Alina panted. “Oh god, I hate you.” She slung her arm over his shoulders. “I love you.”

She didn’t know if he would say it back. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he didn’t. But this time he straightened himself and slid his hand up to her neck, caressing the hollow of her throat. Alina let her eyes fall closed.

“I’m thinking of getting you something,” was what Aleksander said.

[sunseteyes]

“mahal kita” — i love you

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ STARRING: café bartender!shinsuke kita; student!gn!reader

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ THEMES: fluff, hints of bullying

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ WORD COUNT: 4.2k words

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ SYNOPSIS: shinsuke kita was your first love, and even if it was unusual of you to do so, you were willing to say it to him, despite the circumstances that you two were in.

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ INTERMISSION: finally!!! i’ve been planning this since december and this actually has a second part! the second part will have kita’s pov mostly so do look forward for that~ it will be posted next week !! also, “mahal kita” is a filipino phrase and it translates to “i love you.” the reader is not filipino but if you want to think if it that way, you could, though the reason why i wanted to incorporate my language here is because i just felt like,,, i had to? hahaha anw, enjoy !! i worked hard for this one :D

the bright light blinds you despite having your eyes closed and as you have an arm covering them. indeed, even the sun was beckoning you to listen to the beaming sound of your alarm that plays on the background like a broken cassette tape, urging you to wake up now or else your schedule would get cut off. you wouldn’t want that, especially during a weekday like today.

groaning as you forced yourself to sit up and rub your hand over your eyes to make the world seem a little bit clearer. you then welcomed the sight of the room that had the sunlight illuminate its four corners, a familiar sight that you see everyday.

and you were growing tired of it, to be honest.

your daily routine had never been that much different as it has always been; getting up, getting dressed, going to school. really, there was nothing else that seemed to have been enough to make your eyes brighten up in excitement, since everything just happens on repeat.

every. single. day.

bringing your hand up to cover your eyes from the blazing sun, you wished you hadn’t forgotten to bring your sunglasses from your dorm as you crossed down the road, cautious with the cars that passed by the street. your gaze drops down to your wristwatch, your feet fastening its pace as you catch sight of your university literally only a few blocks away.

there’s nothing really special with your life; just a normal graduating college student hoping to establish a normal working life with a normal family in the future. the latter seemed quite impossible these days, especially with the constant repeat of your relationships throughout the years. still, there’s nothing wrong in expecting you’d have a good future, right?

maybe, maybe not.

“you’re late again.” you panted as you turned to the person sitting beside you, fixing your things and yourself in the process.

“what did i miss?”

“not much, but the professor is strict with attendance.” tobio eyes you before glancing back to the front of the room, feigning his focus upon the topic the professor was talking about.

“yeah, yeah i know.” you whisper back, doing the same thing as you forced yourself to digest the information that was being spoken of, even if you’re not particularly interested in any of it.

“oi,” your senses came about and it was tobio’s face whom you’d seen first, already standing upright in front of your seat, his bag slung to his shoulders-

“huh?” you look around and see everyone doing the same, looking tired just from one discussion. and it seems you have dozed off while awake all throughout the entire time.

“are you just going to sit here all day or not?”

you then gathered your things and followed suit, heading to the cafeteria but not before stopping by the vending machine to get your regular coffee and tobio’s dairy.

“you sure do like milk a lot, tobio.” you’d tease all the time, and he’d respond with,

“for someone who has trouble sleeping, you still haven’t quite enough of coffee, idiot.”

your friendship with tobio started ever since you were kindergarten, and you believe you two were simply drawn to each other because of how silent you two could be, only leaning into a conversation when it is needed. despite having met each other for so long, you two only began to stick to each other when high school came, after being reunited and seeing a familiar face after such a long time. it was that time that you and him realized how far alike to each other you were, deciding to have a bond that neither expected. plus, he likes watching volleyball matches just as you do. simply put, you found someone who was not much different from you, and you realized how comfortable you were with that—the usual things.

the fear of change and difference was what kept you stuck in the same town, at the same school, at the same status, and at the same way of living. people kept on emphasizing how important it is to look outside the box, but no matter how much you wanted to take a peek outside, you couldn’t, didn’t want to. you were fully convinced that if you dream big, there are just bigger consequences to life than how it usually gives.

“who’s that?”

the whispers and murmurs ripped you from your mind, your attention turning to your classmates who were talking about a certain person, making you involuntarily glance at where they were looking. it was a man—an unfamiliar man inside the university premises. who was he, perhaps? it was the same question as what your peers kept on inquiring to each other.

“you must be the new guidance counsellor!” now came a familiar voice, beaming like a sunshine as how he usually is, his hand extending to the said man with the new face, a certain kind of change that you never expected.

“guidance counsellor? where’s takeda-san?” a series of murmurs emerged again until one eventually said that the previous counsellor had taken a break since his wife had finally given birth to their child. you were never close to him but the casual greetings you and tobio received from the man was enough to call him as a kind person. you will surely miss that now that he’s gone temporarily. just from looking over and observing the new counsellor, you were quite sure that this one is far different from takeda.

you sooner found it out when you were called by one of your professors, specifically one that you knew so well that you were close to saying you had been fed-up in seeing his face all over again.

“(y/n), could you pass this to ojiro-san, you know him, right? the new guidance counsellor.” professor koushi sugawara hands you over an unlabeled folder, about two of them, barely glancing your way as he continues to type with his keyboard, eyes trained over the computer screen in such an intense focus. you often see him like this, but you were too irritated to want to even follow his orders as soon as possible, the frown on your face deepening the more you stare at the man’s figure.

“i’m not your maid here, by the way.” you say to him lowly, and it was a good thing that no one else was near him or you two would be embarrassing yourselves for causing such a scene in a school faculty.

this time, you met koushi’s eyes and you felt yourself bite your own tongue when you saw the familiar bags under his eyes, the rim of his glasses barely covering them and the exhausted look on the way he was gazing at you. you knew how tired he often gets because of his work and you do try to help him out, but he just called you out of a class—the only class that you were enjoying and he just wanted you to deliver a couple of papers to the new guy? you’re not someone he can call for errands that easily, not without some words that needed to be discussed.

“yes, you’re right. sorry about that, my pretty younger sibling.” he still teased you, and you only let out a huff before turning away and heading towards the guidance, not without telling your brother to eat his lunch or else you’ll stop making bento for him—it’s not as if you will but the threat always works because he hates waking up earlier than he should to prepare food.

having a professor as your sibling is kind of weird, especially the first few days of when people have found out about it, but the feeling eventually fades away for it’s very much like when you two were still going to the same school during elementary and high school, and like everything else, you’ve gotten used to it.

“oh, this is from sugawara-san?” ojiro, the new guidance counsellor, looked kind and welcoming, very much like the previous one, takeda. you’re not that much fun of change, but if adjustment is needed, then you have no choice but to abide by it. something about this new counsellor makes you somewhat comfortable with him, and it’s in a good way, you hope.

“thank you, uh-” he drops his gaze to your identification card and like any other who suddenly notices your surname, his eyes widen by a little bit, a wave of realization hitting them in his mind.

then he smiles, warm and friendly. “thank you, (y/n)-san. is it alright to call you by your first name?”

“i don’t mind.” you shrug, inwardly smiling, “thank you, ojiro-san.”

“you met the new counsellor already?” tobio questioned by the time you two were walking home, or rather to the cafe you two usually drop by at before really going home. it was one of the things that you and tobio bond on still, apparently. milk and coffee really are the things that tobio and you love—despite its difference, there was a certain middle ground where both the likes meet.

“yeah, he seems nice.” you say, not paying much attention to what tobio was saying for your eyes were set at the counter of the cafe almost immediately as you both entered the transparent doors, the same head of silver hair with darkened tips standing there, beholding an apron that matched any other worker in the room.

you must have forgot to mention earlier; there are times when excitement runs through you like a battery, powering up every vessel and cell inside of you.

there he is. shinsuke, the most beautiful man you’d ever seen your whole life. and yes, you only knew of his name because it’s on his name badge.

you could hear tobio scoff beside you but you merely brushed him off as per usual, heading straight to the lane of the man that still serves a customer by asking their own orders. tobio, on the other hand, walks to the other line where there were basically no other customers.

“good afternoon,” he greeted by the time it was your turn, and in an instant, there came a smile by your lips, one that you rarely ever give to anybody, to any other time, really. this man just gives you a rush of serotonin in your system that it was difficult for you to not react that way.

“chocolate-chip frappe, like usual?” he offered his own kind smile, and your heart combusted again, like it does whenever he looks at you like that, talks to you like that. you knew it was technically his job to build rapport to customers, but it seems as if there’s no escaping for you to escape this kind of fate.

you like him. if you were given a chance to get to know him more, that might even develop into something more.

“yes, please.” you responded, sounding ever so pleased and joyful than how you’ve acted for the rest of the day early on.

“perhaps you would like to purchase our new year’s special drink?” he says as he points at the small poster from beside him, the image of the drink catching your attention, and if you were asked, even if the poster was that colorful, you doubt that it would tear away your focus from the man on the opposite of you.

“uh-”

“it comes with green tea,” he cuts you off, if he knew you were about to respond. “but i admit you don't seem like the type to order a drink like that, do correct me if i’m wrong.”

“how did you know?”

“you only ever ordered the same drink most of the time,” he says with a straight face, as if calculating in the inside of his mind while looking you in the eye “and whenever i offered you our specials, you only like those that taste sweet or those that fit well with coffee.”

it took you a couple of seconds to reply, and it’s with how you were amazed by his observational skills, a soft and short chuckle leaving your system. “you’re really good. yeah, i actually don’t enjoy my tea when it’s cold.”

he types in your order with a small smirk on his face, and you had to control yourself from not getting flustered by how you were getting to have the chance to see this side of him—one that is far from his formalities as a worker to a customer. it gives you the opportunity to witness and to feel how close he was as a person, like you, sort of like a middle ground. like how milk and coffees are to tobio and you.

“you look like you just won a billion yen.”

you giggled as you sat down in front of tobio, not even trying to hide the giddy, fuzzy feeling you were feeling on the inside now that you were quite far away from the subject of affection.

“maybe i just did.” you say, the scenes of earlier playing by your mind.

this change, this sort of change; you didn’t mind it. him talking to you, you convinced yourself it was a good kind of change that you would gladly adjust upon.

once again, the day passes by in a blur, and tomorrow comes again.

“(y/n)-san!”

your name being called early in the morning by a voice is one thing that you did not expect when you went out of your shared apartment with your brother, and are now walking your way to school.

“ojiro-san,” you acknowledged the call, “good morning.”

“ah, yeah good morning as well.” he greets, finally catching up on your form while slightly panting from jogging towards your way.

“uhm,” you interjected, brows furrowed together as you twiddled upon the earbud that you had to unplug from your ear the moment you heard the counsellor’s call. “-is there something you needed to tell me?” it took a whole lot from you not to act irritated than you usually do whenever you are enjoying a peaceful walk to class, but it’s not as if you expected to have an early conversation with someone as well. it’s not like there’s a lot of people who like having your company other than tobio—you’re not even sure if he enjoys being with you. you’re not really the talkative type either so it’s a win-win situation for everyone. the only times you’d actually like having to initiate a conversation is with the barista at your current favorite cafe.

“ah, nothing much, but could you give this to your brother and tell him that i already found someone for him? oh wait, do you know about it?” he says as he hands you over the same folders that you handed to him early on yesterday. at first, it took you awhile to process his vague question until it finally hit you.

oh right, the very big change coming up for your life.

you nod, tucking the folders by your side. and just when you were about to speak, the sound of the bell rang over your heads that you had to exchange a quick goodbye or else you’re going to be late on your first subject again.

“thanks, (y/n).” koushi smiles brightly at you, despite his quite opposite state, as per usual. apparently, your brother thinks he’s such a great pretender, especially towards you. although you understand his intentions as well and that’s to be positive in front of you to not burden you with his own problems. how did you know? well, he is your brother, you not only knew him because you had been together ever since, but you have some of his bad habits as well, including this.

when you handed him the folders, you watched as he opened them, but you already knew what’s its contents, that's why you didn’t bother to look. leaving the faculty room, you never knew there would come a day where you’d miss going there often.

though before you could even go back peacefully to your classroom and grab both your bag and tobio, the moment you turned to a corner and there, you bumped into someone.

“watch where you’re going, fatass.”

“hey, ain’t you the kid from elementary? wow, you never changed, have ya?”

your whole body ran cold that you froze there, in the middle of the now-empty hallway, unable to breathe properly than you should. scenarios of the past then came like a film at the back of your mind, playing ever so carelessly as they indulge such negative emotions that now rushes through your veins.

a touch was all it took to bring you back to reality, and you heard a familiar voice that probably kept calling you all this time.

brown eyes—the person in front of you had such as his voice chants your name like a prayer, a plea to make you stay sane.

“are you alright? (y/n)-san?” wait… you know that voice.

you just know you had to save yourself from drowning—or was he the one who’s pulling you out?

“shinsuke?” you stuttered; hesitant, unsure. after all, how could someone like him come here at your school? is he delivering orders now?

“are you doing okay? you look pale… do you want me to take you to the clinic? just guide me where and i’ll help you, do you want me to carry you? he barged you with so many questions that your still-hazed mind failed to cope up with most of them. the only thing in your mind is him and how he seemed to have come at such a perfect timing.

“uh-no, it’s alright, i’m alright.” you tried to convince him, but it’s not like you were lying anyway. the moment you saw him, everything else have faded away—at least you tried them to be.

“maybe i should take you outside. come on, you look like you’re in need of some fresh air.” he didn’t ask you furthermore and took you gently by the wrist, ushering you to follow his lead, as if he was the one who had been on these school grounds for years and not you. you doubt he even knew his way around and was just trying to calm you down in some way.

you liked it though. you liked how his warm hand touches your skin, how his mere presence drowns away every other negative thought as if they were dust, too miniscule to even worry about. you liked his soft eyes and how they expressed his concern for you in his own way of doing so. and you liked how his comforting voice soothed over your tensed muscles, as if they massaged their way through just to ease up the bundles of tension in them.

perhaps what you feel towards this man, shinsuke, is more than just a simple admiration that lasted for months. you haven’t given much thought over it in fear that you might not be able to move on and get over, but they were growing day by day, little by little, and now you’re beginning to scold yourself for only realizing it now when it’s too late,

“shinsuke-san,”

you urged the both of you to halt, the murmurs and whispers that you passed by dissipated into faded echoes now that he is looking at you by his ever-so-soft stare, gazing at you with one that you could never fathom what he’s thinking about as he does so. he’s just mysterious, but it’s what makes him too exciting and thrilling to unfold; to see the layers that lay underneath that shell of his, like a crab, protecting its delicious contents, or a pearl inside a seashell. you were sure he’s beautiful inside and out.

that’s why you can’t just shut your mouth about it. you just have to get it out, it’s now or never.

because you’ve never felt like this to anyone, and you sure doubt you’d ever again.

“i love you.” you say, the words slipping out smoothly, rolling by your tongue easier than you ever thought it would. and the moment you realized you were able to let them out, a wave of relief washes over you, it was like your own body and mind was telling you to go and say it, beckoning you to open your heart, no matter what change may come your way.

the look he gave you showed a reaction you’ve never seen from him; furrowed brows, halted expression, it was clear that he was baffled with your sudden confession and that in no way would you have a chance of getting a happy ending today--not that it mattered much. your intention was merely to get it out of your chest.

and you’ve got no regret about that.

“what are-you’re supposed to prioritize yourself first. come on, let me take you to the clinic.” he continued to pull you away, as if that was what he intends to do with your feelings and supposedly-hidden desires for him that are now out in the open. it’s not as if that was what he was doing, but for you, it probably was what he’d do if he took your confession seriously.

“have you eaten your lunch yet, sugawara-san? i mean, (y/n), would you prefer to be called that way instead?” the nurse inquires as she tries to see if there was anything wrong with you aside from the claim of shinsuke’s description of you being pale and quite unresponsive since he apparently spent about a minute or two trying to bring you back to reality. you think he’s just over exaggerating, but you wouldn’t be surprised if that was hailed as the truth by the heavens. after all, there is a very good reason for that to happen anyway.

“uhm, i think i ate a piece of brea, or two.” you say, pondering over it for a moment, trying to recall the happenings before you suddenly remembered to deliver to your brother the folders that the counsellor asked you to do so. “and i don’t mind either way, but i do think it would be best to call my by (y/n) instead.”

by the end, the nurse only gave you an advice to eat more and drink water whilst also giving you some vitamin that you forgot what’s it’s called because you were too busy admiring shinsuke who’s from the side, trying to discuss with the nurse with regards to what could have possibly happened to you.

“thank you, by the way.” you say as you and him walk side by side, on the way towards the exit of the premises since you insisted that you take him there in return to accompanying you at the clinic earlier. “you shouldn’t have done it, but you still did. i’m grateful for that.”

shinsuke looks at you in the eye and your heart starts to beat faster again without your permission.

“there’s no need to thank me, but you should take care of yourself. you can never be full with just a loaf of bread.”

you nervously chuckled, your fingers twiddling as you averted your gaze to the ground. “i had to do something so i got up and abandoned my food, sorry about that.”

“don’t say sorry to me, you should apologize to yourself.”

now you didn’t know he was this naggy, but it surprisingly doesn’t irritate you more than how it should be for most people. it might have been because of your own feelings, but it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t, anyway.

“still, thank you.” you say, a cheeky smile on your face, one you think you’ve never shown to just anyone, a look that even your brother or tobio would be surprised at because you rarely display it for them either. for shinsuke, it seems that all your insecurities are thrown away, as if your breathing is not withheld and you’re not drowning anymore. no matter how you’ve looked at it, the way shinsuke’s presence makes you more comfortable than you would to anyone else is unusual for you, but you’re on the borderline of being comfortable and not in the situation. if you were asked, you’re kind of.. calm.

“are you coming by at the cafe later? i’d treat you to a cinnamon bun if you’d lie. that’s your favorite, right?”

if you looked flustered, you didn’t have much time to hide them for you were already beaming like the sun from his words, the combination of his offer and your feelings mixing well together to form how you’d react to such a question.

“are you asking me for a date?” a sudden burst of confidence, one might say, but you’re having fun with it, in spite of the newness of the situation and circumstance, urging you to come out of your comfort zone, and shinsuke’s indulging you a bit more.

“as long as you eat, then you may call it that way.”

oh how you’d want to repeat that moment over and over, never changing until the end of time, even if it’s obviously not going to happen.

not when your future is about to change.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Reasons Doug’s Pretty Great

It’s hard to believe that it’s been nine years since the first episode of S1 was released. I can still remember be a wee little lass first discovering it on youtube and becoming obsessed. At the time, I had no where to play it myself, so I watched as many playthroughs as I could until my family got an xbox. 

While the first episode in this series has a lot of memorable moments, the one that always stands out in people’s memories is the moment where you’re trying to escape the drugstore as walkers pound away at the door and windows, and you realize that both Carley and Doug need your help or they’re going to die. 

But... you can only save one, and whoever you don’t help, they end up being eaten alive by walkers and you get to feel bad about it for the rest of the episode. 

I bring this up because it’s interesting to look back nine years ago and see that... well, not a lot of people saved Doug. Which is crazy, because now the stats are pretty 50/50 with Doug even having a bit of an edge over Carley. That definitely wasn’t the case back then because the stats were more along the line of 20/80.

Why? Well, the writer’s didn’t exactly do the best job of showing how great Doug is in ep1, especially compared to Carley who has more interactions with Lee and more screen time.... which is even funnier because they did actually think they did a good job and were surprised by the results after the episode’s release.

Even back then they had a habit of making imbalanced routes then denying the imbalance... something they never grew out of. 

I guess they were a little butthurt about it since Doug is a favorite among the team given that he’s actually based on a real person, Doug Tabacco, an IT guy they worked with. This got to the point where Telltale never missed an opportunity to tell everyone to #SaveDoug over Carley.

I also love that they use the Stranger to guilt trip everyone who saved Carley by having him be like, “Doug was in a worse position! >:( You only saved Carley because she was a pretty girl!!” just.... real subtle, guys haha

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that more often than not, I choose to save Carley over Doug for many reasons, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate Doug and enjoy having him around in the off chance I do save him. So I thought it’d be fun to talk about Doug as a character and why he was pretty great as a little tribute, y’know? 

5. Doug’s a pretty funny dude

Now, I wouldn’t exactly call twdg a comedy, y’know? It gets dark, then manages to get even darker at times, but if the game was nothing but doom and gloom, it’d get boring and become unenjoyable. 

While other characters do get a laugh out of me from time to time, I enjoy the humor that Doug brings to the group, even if it’s not intentional and just the way he is. 

Even from the beginning, Doug had me chuckling with the fact that this nerdy dude didn’t want to bring profanity to Lee’s ears when talking about Larry, so he’s just like “ He's kind of a dick... pardon my french,” like Doug.... it’s okay, you can call him an asshole, no one will judge hahaha.

Then there’s the biscuit scene that I think we all know and love. Helps break the tension of meeting these weirdo’s who own a dairy and are totally not suspicious or anything. 

But it’s not even just that Doug is funny, he’s also a character that gets you to crack a smile when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, or when he’s proud of the alarm he rigged up, or when he’s being adorably awkward. 

One of my favorites is in ep3 when Lee goes to ask Doug if he has any chalk, and he goes into this spiel about charcoal-- “You know, a piece of charcoal is a suitable alternative, depending on your marking surface. Since we're on the subject, did you know that while chalk is traditionally known to be calcium carbonate, what's often used in classrooms is actually made of gypsum, thanks to favorable domestic mining conditions?”

And Lee’s response is just-- “Doug, I did not know that.”

“Happy to be of service.”

It’s just really funny... and it makes you feel better after all the implications about Doug’s mental health in the episode... like you gave him a moment to flex his knowledge and get excited about it. 

But yeah, what can I say? Doug makes me laugh and he brings a bit of light to the groups constant shitshow. 

4. Doug saved the group’s ass at the St John farm

And he did so with a laser pointer. 

I always hate it when Doug/Carley leave the group at the St Johns and remain absent for most of the episode, though I chalk that up to the writers trying to make the different routes easier on themselves, y’know? 

But, at least they come back to save the day. 

In Doug’s case, he’s not comfortable with guns like Carley is, so he’s gotta get creative when it comes to getting Lee’s attention and stopping Andy from hurting Duck and Lee. 

That’s where his fancy little laser pointer comes in. 

We first see him with it during the walk to the farm, but then see it in action after Lee escapes the barn and is nearly blinded by the light. Doug claims he was doing morse code before Lee tells him and Ben that these assholes cut off Mark’s legs and tried to feed them to the group. 

Now, here’s the thing... If Doug and Ben had done what they were told and stayed at the motor inn over night, things probably wouldn’t have turned out so good for the group. Doug is the one who shines the laser pointer in Andy’s eyes when he’s got ahold of Duck, giving Lee the advantage of attack. Without that, if Lee tried anything, he would’ve ended up like dingdong Kenny with a bullet in his side. 

Also there’s just a lot of bravery from Doug, y’know? Like as soon as he finds Lee and knows the situation, the first thing he asks is what can they do to help, and he sticks around to do what he can.... even if it is just to point a laser in someone’s eye. 

No one gives Doug enough credit for savin’ the day, y’know? And if you have any doubt, even Lee says, “I never thought a laser pointer would be the thing that saved our lives.”

3. Doug’s friendship with Lee

Speaking of Lee, his friendship with Doug is underrated. The two have chemistry and work off each other well in the scene’s they’re in. While it’s not as strong as Carley’s in ep1, saving Doug and having around in ep2 & ep3 lets you see it at it’s best, y’know? 

After Lee saves his life at the drugstore, Doug is shown to mourn Carley and asks Lee why he would pick him, lamenting that he wished he had picked her over him and you can tell that Doug feels that he owes Lee a lot for saving him. Hell, he even says as much when Lee tries to give him food in ep2-- “Why don't you keep my share today. I know I said it didn't matter why you saved me and not Carley, but... I owe you a lot more than half a day's rations."

Also, I love this one line from Kenny when you’re on bad terms with him and they’re talking about going separate ways where he’s basically like “We all know Doug’s gonna stay with you because you saved him that ONE time >:(” and on top of it being such a bitchy Kenny line, it also shows that every can see that Doug is a loyal friend to Lee and would want to stick with him where ever he decides to go. 

One thing that I think people tend to overlook, though, is how concerned Lee is with Doug’s mental health in ep3. There are implications that Doug might be suffering with depression due to the situation of the walkers, bandits harrassing and threatening them, and believing that he isn’t useful to the group, stating that he feel pretty worthless. Lee asks Clementine if he seems sad, and hell, he even talks to Lilly about it.

In fact, speaking of Clementine, Doug is real sweet with her, too. Of course, he gives her those batteries for her walkie, but he also asks about how she’s doing as they’re leaving the dairy. Hell, 8 years later, Clementine still remembers him by name and how sweet he was when fucking dingdong Lilly can’t remember his damn name. That says a lot. 

Y’all know how important Clementine is to Lee, so he wouldn’t have grown as close to Doug if he wasn’t a genuinely good person who treated Clementine with kindess. 

I dunno, there’s a lot of trust and care between the two and it’s a relationship that I truly love. I just wish we could’ve seen a bit more of it but y’know...#2 happened. 

2. Doug saved Ben’s life

Yeah, I think we all saw this coming...

Look, doesn’t matter what you think about Ben, okay? Not what we’re talkin’ about. We’re talkin’ about Doug saving Ben’s life, which unfortunately meant ending his own.

Still haven’t forgiven Lilly for this one. Though I’ve always found the difference between Doug and Carley’s death’s interesting. With Carley, Lilly intentionally kills her after Carley tells her off. But with Doug, Lilly was aiming for Ben and even when Doug pulled him out of the way, she still fired the gun... even though she didn’t have a clear shot and ended up hitting Doug. 

Then she tries to play it off like it was an accident which, yeah I guess it was but that doesn’t change that you were intending to murder this 6ft tall child. 

It’s just... I dunno, man, it’s sad. I always feel more sorrow for Doug’s death, but more anger for Carley’s? Even though both make me angry, it’s just different characters, different things that led to their deaths, different feelings. This is the first real “Fuck you, Lilly” moment for me and she can spend the next 8 years wandering around for all I can. 

Doug didn’t deserve this shit. 

But, the reason I put this at #2 because it really says a lot about Doug as a character. The second he saw Lilly aim that gun, he yanked Ben out of the way. He could’ve gone into shock, he could’ve just yelled “no!”, or he could’ve gone at Lilly instead.... but no, his first instinct was to grab Ben and move himself in front and it really fucking sucks that that’s what killed him. 

And y’know this isn’t the first time Doug has put himself in danger to save someone. I already talked about him saving everyone at the dairy, but can we not forget how he and Carley met? She was gonna get eaten by walkers then our big hero Doug came in and saved her?? Didn’t know her or anything, just saw her and her crew getting attacked and did what he could to save any survivors?? 

Like... no one talks about that because it’s so played off and never brought up again and I need everyone to remember this, okay? 

Doug selflessly putting himself in danger to help those around him? Fantastic. Beautiful. Love that.

1. Look, Doug himself is just #1. His personality, intelligence, everything.

Wow, Doug’s personality being the #1 reason he’s so great? Who woulda thought?

Well, ME woulda thought because obviously.

Listen... in case you haven’t gather this from the previous four entries, Doug is an intelligent, awkward, caring, selfless, funny, and brave man, okay? He’s likable, he tries his damnedest to pull his weight for the group, he shows actual loyalty and kindness unlike some people, and when he tends to avoid the constant Lilly and Kenny conflicts, he does his best to step in when things take a serious turn, hence the Ben situation. 

No to mention the dude is smart. 

I mean, he really took a random remote and was like, “Oh it’s universal, let me just program it to work on ALL the random TV’s across the street as a way to distract these walkers!” like dude.... you just know how to do that, huh? 

Or his fun little bell trap that alerts the groups of strangers and walkers? Oh, and remember when he fixed the RV by hitting it with a fucking hammer and was like “It works now, drive!” 

And have I mentioned that he bested Andy St John with a goddamn laser pointer?? 

Oh, also wanna add that I really like his voice acting, as well. He’s voiced by Sam Joan, who does a good job at selling Doug’s soft-spoken but intelligent nature, and knows how to pull off “dorky” when needed... and I mean that in a good way, when he’s talking about charcoal Doug is being a dork and I love him.

I mean... what else is there to say?

All that’s left to do is pull a Telltale and--

#SaveDoug

---

Honorable Mentions

-Doug is a pie guy, going off of that time he named all the different kinds of pie he could thing of and I feel that.  -He’s a very fashionable person. I want that weird polar bear deer thing shirt he wears in ep1.  -also, you can’t go wrong with socks and sandals, my dude.  -He had a crush on Carley and honestly, I feel that, too. 

---

There it is, there’s my whole thing about Doug. What are your thoughts? When it comes to that choice in ep1 of s1, do you save Doug or do you save Carley? Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

—

Next week’s T5F

[justalarryblog]

📄 Hometown by @allwaswell16 (2k) | Not Rated

On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

📄 Overkill by @fivesecondsofmae (4k) | Explicit

Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.

Or Louis and Chubby!Harry are as close as best mates can be and clearly are in love. Time to take it to the next level.

Top!Harry smut and fluff.

📄 New Places, New Possibilities by orphan_account (12k) | Explicit

Harry has always longed for Louis from afar, never sure exactly what Louis wanted, or if they could even have what they wanted. Even though Louis would sneak into Harry’s bed every chance he could, they’d never gone further than cuddles and innocent kisses. But when the boys are finally away from home on their first visit to LA, things finally begin to change.

📄 In All Its Imperfections by @BriaMaria (15k) | Explicit

From: Louis Tomlinson

To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

“What happened, mate?” Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

📄 If We Have Each Other by @pocketsunshineharry / ishiplouis (23k) | Mature

“When are you going to accept my offer to go out again? It’s been seven years and you’re still saying no to a fun night?” Niall complains.

“A night in with Mads is a fun night for me Ni, I already told you that.” Harry responds while serving a customer.

“You’re infuriating, I just want my best friend to go out with me tonight, is it too much to ask?” Niall pouts but all Harry does is chuckle and prepare the coffee machine for the double espresso the customer ordered.

“Playing the victim, are we now?” Harry is so used to Niall’s techniques. “Well, I have good news for you, Maddie is having a sleepover at one of her friends so tonight so I’m all yours.”

OR AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.

📄 In Dreams by @dolce_piccante (23k) | Mature

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

📄 Love Is on The Radio by @whatevertearsyou​ / perfectdagger (sincerelyste), @star_k (35k) | Explicit

“So Louis, who’s the lucky person that will not only get to see Arsenal and Manchester United facing each other, but will also possibly become your girlfriend… or boyfriend? I mean, that’s a good catch, to ask someone out like this on the radio. It will be hard to say no after this.”

“It’s, hm, his name is…” Oh boy, Harry was about to pass out, he couldn’t bear to hear what Louis would say. Susie was looking at him, worried eyes watching him from the till as she noticed that Harry had simply abandoned his cupcake duties. “Harry. Harry Styles.”

To win a pair of tickets to watch Manchester United playing, Louis may have possibly lied to Nick Grimshaw on the BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show, asking Harry, his best friend, to be his boyfriend. Problem is - Harry has always been in love with Louis and so, this Valentine’s he’s gonna see his dreams come true, with a tiny bit of a twist, in order to watch the football team they have loved together since they were kids.

📄 That’s What I’m Here For by @taggiecb (46k) | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

Part 1 of Grace, Too

📄 Pinkies Never Lie by @alltheselights (83k) | Explicit

“I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer.

There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.

“Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

Part 1 of Pinkies Never Lie

📄 Dress you up in my love by @LucyStarkid (103k) | Explicit

Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall’s bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself. ??Harry is a lawyer, his boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.

Featuring: Sophia as Louis’ colleague, with a somewhat unhealthy obsession with his love life, whilst being oblivious when it comes to her own. Liam as the ‘IT bloke from downstairs’ with the mother of all crushes on Sophia. Niall as Harry’s sport’s writer flatmate who spends most of his time making Harry’s life as complicated as possible. Zayn as Louis’ flatmate and lifelong best friend, whose cat, Noodle/Princess/Princess Noodle loves Louis more than it loves him. And Nick as Harry’s boss and one of Louis’ regular customers: is Imelda Marcos reborn.

📄 amaryllis by @hattalove (146k) | Explicit

“Where are we?”

“Um. A little while out of London?” Niall tries, seemingly the only one willing to not be mysterious and provide Harry with information, and. Oh.

“London London? As in, the capital of England London?” he asks, just in case he’d misheard.

“No, the other London,” Louis laughs, low and biting. He comes closer finally, the moonlight just enough to reveal a sharp-cut jaw and pale skin. “Sorry, Pup.”

Nobody’s ever called Harry a “pup”. Frankly, he finds it quite insulting, but he lets it slide to try and comprehend his current crisis.

or the one where harry gets bitten by a werewolf. louis is the mysterious not-quite alpha, liam and zayn have Things going on, niall is their token human, and together, they watch a lot of TV.

📄 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere (149k) | Explicit

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

📄 Have Faith In Me by @stylinsoncity (183k) | Mature

As the son of Anne Styles, millionaire owner of one of the world’s most luxurious fashion labels, Harry has spent his last seventeen years living in carefree extravagance. And now he’s grown tired of it, along with the pressure from his mum to follow in her footsteps and the constant care given to him by her past assistants.

When his mum’s newest assistant, Louis, moves into the guesthouse, Harry determines to be treated differently. To be treated like an adult. Except Louis is not at all what Harry was expecting…

This is a story about growing up, growing in love and having the faith to make it last.

📄 Built Memories by @fresharold (211k) | Mature

“It was a comet.

The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning.

And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning.

There are many who couldn’t understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again… And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart.

The boy saw the comet and suddenly his life had meaning.”

» where louis and harry after long years start over again. they’re strangers again and introduce themselves, they relearn what they already know and what they don’t know, come with new inside jokes, create new memories and give each other a second chance.

📄 Relief Next To Me by @dolce_piccante (333k) | Mature

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

✨You can also check my fic tags for more fics! ✨

[robinofinashiro]

“turn it up it’s your favorite song / dance, dance, dance to the distortion / turn it up keep on repeat / stumbling around like a wasted zombie / yeah we think we’re free / drink, this ones on me / we’re all chained to the rhythm 

pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem! reader

request status: CLOSED

note: i start my semester this tuesday so like BIG SAD but I swear I’ll try and not fuck with my posting schedule or go IA for weeks at a time. i’ve also been having a lot of AoT reqs and as much as I love them, I get tired of writing for it all the times.

a few of the heroes were called in for some meeting regarding a hero incident that happened a few weeks back. you weren’t actively apart of the situation when it initially happened, however; they had called all younger pro heroes to a conference to go over some protocols and new rulings. 

you hadn’t been a hero for long, working under a few smaller heroes until the Symbol of Peace caught onto you. you weren’t working under a huge agency at the time, so when All Might called for you to transfer agencies, detecting that you had more potential under him, you immediately moved. 

it wasn’t an unknown secret that you were connected to him. although you weren’t exactly what many people thought when they thought of All Might having a ‘sidekick’ or intern, they could see it in your fighting style how much you learned from him. 

the charisma, the change in personality, everything changed about how some thought of you. you were more willing to talk to the media, happily attended events for kids, and a smile never left your face. All Might was proud to see your change as he realized that you had finally grown into the hero he knew you would become. 

you tapped at the notebook sitting in front of you, hoping that they called the meeting early. you hadn’t gotten enough sleep for the past few days, thinking that all of you were in trouble for the incident. every now and again, you would hear the winged hero laugh or crack a joke about something and it started to grow more and more annoying. 

the downside of constantly working at All Might’s agency was that you hardly had any downtime. you weren’t exactly close to many heroes or even associated yourself with them considering AM’s agency limited the heroes they took in and at the moment, it was really just you and another older hero that worked in it. 

“( your hero name ), you’re ranked in the top five, why don’t you give us a run down on how you approach the media in a kid friendly way?” 

your eyes widened, not realizing that he was speaking to you directly. you took a gulp before looking at all the heroes, “well, I guess you just have to make sure you don’t overwhelm the media with something that’s over exaggerated and dramatic. when trying to speak to a younger audience, you have to be a bit soft spoken, smiling constantly, and assuring them that they’re not in any danger. I know as heroes, it’s hard to remain calm in a scary situation but reaching the kids and having them able to listen to you can even calm yourself down,” you explained, “keeping kids safe should always be a priority because they can set a precedent for heroes.”

the heroes stared at you, some in a deadpan way, others a bit mesmerized. they could sense the All Might vernacular coming out of you but to a specific hero, they could see the way you were nervous around your peers. 

Hawks knew about you. it was hard not to hear of All Might’s current pride and joy. he saw your interviews when they came on the news but the one thing that stuck out to him was how you hardly ever came around other heroes when down time actually presented itself. 

you were very private with your personal life, something that rivaled Edgeshot. your personal life wasn’t very out there and it wasn’t like you tried to hide it because you could have cared less but whenever you did have down time, you were usually at home asleep or catching up on something else. 

finally, you sat down, staring down at your notebook again as you tried to wipe your hands on your uniform pants. seeing all those eyes on you made your hands get sweaty and clammy. 

the meeting ended not long after your small lecture and although you didn’t have anything to do after this, you were rushing to get your things together and leave before anyone that wasn’t the media caught up with you. however, that wasn’t exactly what you got. 

“hey! ( your name )!” you heard Hawks’ voice call out for you. you stared at ground, wondering what the hell he could want from you. you waited for him to catch up, “hey, you okay?” he asked, a smirk playing at his face. 

your eyebrows fluttered in confusion, “yeah, why?”  you whispered. Hawks shrugged, “just saw you getting nervous back there,” he mentioned. 

you didn’t know how to respond but you slowly started to walk towards the entrance doors, hoping he would leave you before the media rushed everyone walking out. 

“I got a bit nervous seeing everyone looking at me, that’s all.” “but you’re around the media all the time?” “Hawks, do you have anything to ask me? I’m just not used to being around people my age.” 

he saw the slight anger rise in you but decided not say anything as you gave him one final look before walking out of the door and being rushed by camera’s and reporters. a smile instantly hit your face as reporters asked you questions about the conference and overall general questions about work. 

Hawks knew that he could probably get an earful from you for what he was about to do but as he walked out of the doors, he went over to the cameras that you were talking too and gave them a huge smile as he put his arm around your shoulders. 

“good afternoon everyone!” he said happily as he saw your face contort to confusion and slight fear, “Hawks! are you friends with her? maybe even more?” one of the reporters asked as Hawks gave them a hearty laugh and waved them off. 

“nah, we’re just really great friends, isn’t that right?” he asked you. you remained wide eyed and silent, not knowing what to say, “we were just talking about going out for a friendly date and had to get confirmation from her,” he told them. 

you finally snapped out of it, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I gotta go! I’m due at my agency no later than three and I’ll be late if I don’t head out now,” you told the reporters before taking his arm off you and basically darting in another direction. 

the reporters looked at Hawks as he quickly recovered and talked to them a bit before telling them goodbye. Hawks had no idea that you were going to get that flustered over the small prank, realizing that he might’ve gone a little too far with it as you were no where in sight anymore. 

+

you got back to the agency, seeing a few of your coworkers looking at you were a smirk on their face. they instantly pointed to the TV’s, showing you the extremely failed interview you had with Hawks not even a few minutes ago. 

“so did you say yes to that ‘friendly’ hangout?” one of them asked. you groaned, your head hitting the wall, “no, what do I look like hanging out with the number two hero? you know I don’t really make unannounced public appearances to begin with.” 

your coworker laughed, seeing your nervous expression. 

“come on, you’re like the hardest worker in this damn agency! you could take one weekend off and enjoy it for fucks sake.” 

you shook your head no but before you could say anything, you saw All Might enter the agency. you instantly bowed as he waved you off. 

“he’s right you know. ever since you transferred to this agency, you haven’t had a day off and it’s high time you take a weekend off for yourself. enjoy your youth while you still have it.” 

“All Might, you know I’m a very in demand hero, I can’t just take off a week-,” All Might cut you off with a slap to the back of the neck, “trust me, we’ll be okay for a weekend. I know better than anyone how it is to run yourself into the ground. take this weekend off and relax.” 

you knew it was best to not continue arguing with your boss and silently agreed before heading to your office to finish up some paperwork. you had no idea what you were even going to do for this weekend. all of your errands, aside from getting groceries, were done and you were sure that Hawks probably didn’t mean what he said earlier. 

your clock out time hit and you huffed, telling all of your coworkers that you would see them again on Monday. they could tell you were reluctant on leaving them for so long but the break didn’t sound so bad to them considering you worked around the clock, 24/7 for them. 

as you got to your car, you figured you might as well make your own dinner since you couldn’t even remember the last time you did that. the only thing stopping you was that you hadn’t brought a change of clothes so you were practically stuck wearing your uniform to the store. 

the grocery store was a bit farther out of the city. when picking a home, you had decided to go out and choose something that wasn’t in the middle of town. you wanted some peace of mind when you got done working and choosing a home a few miles out was your perfect idea. 

once you walked inside of the store, you were happy to see that it wasn’t exactly packed. a few people here and there but most of them just waved or asked for a quick photo before letting you get back to what you were doing.

“hi, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of where I would find you dairy free options?” you asked one of the workers. she smiled, pointing over to the aisle a few sections down. you thanked her, walking over the aisle when you realized you had ran into the last person you expected, “ohoho, funny finding you here,” you heard the winged hero say.

you nodded, pointing to the soy milk, “yeah, All Might gave me the weekend off because of the ‘prank’ you decided to pull earlier today,” you murmured, grabbing the two cartons of milk. 

he laughed, pushing his hair back before grabbing the basket that carried all of your groceries. you gave him a confused look, not really knowing what his intentions were. 

“skip your dinner tonight and come out.” 

you let out a laugh, not really caring who heard, “uh, no. I think I’ll pass,” you said trying to grab your basket back. he sighed, not letting it go, “I’ll give it back when you agree to come out with me,” you growled, your head hitting the cold cement wall. 

“for what? what would I have to offer you if I came out with you?” “nothing! but like I told you earlier today, the fact that you can only talk to kids without getting nervous is kind of embarrassing.” 

you stared at him confused and pissed off. 

“you throwing insults at me isn’t helping your situation Hawks so you have about fifteen seconds to give me my shit back before we start fighting in this grocery store.” 

Hawks put his hands up in defeat, sensing that you were actually being serious about kicking his ass. 

“come on, just one night and if you absolutely hate it, you will never have to do it again. I already promised some people that you would come out tonight too.” your eyes widened at what he had said, “who the hell did you promise?” you practically screeched. 

“Mirko and she might kills us if we’re late,” he murmured, “now?” you exclaimed as he put down your basket of groceries, leaving it on the floor before grabbing your wrist and running down the store. 

you apologized to everyone that you accidentally hit on your way out, them instantly brushing you off thinking that maybe an incident happened and that’s why you both were running out of the store in a hurry. you grabbed your keys out of your bag and walked towards your car. 

“just message me the directions to wherever the hell you’re dragging me too and i’ll meet you there.” 

Hawks nodded, making you put your number in his phone as you walked to car slowly. you figured that if the plans Mirko had for the three of you was urgent, you figured that both Hawks and Mirko were planning on wearing their  uniforms to the event.

Hawks had informed you that you were going to meet him in the fancier side of town, claiming that it was just a small dinner all of you were going too. 

which was a complete lie.

once you arrived to the destination, you realized that this wasn’t a dinner event. this was a Hero Billboard JP after party event. you had heard of it from All Might considering he was invited but his agency hadn’t qualified to attend the event since his agency was purposely ran to not have many heroes in it. 

the reason why you hadn’t been invited was because even though you were high on the JP ranking scale, you hadn’t had enough years in your belt to be considered for the awards they were giving out. 

“Hawks, Mirko, I wasn’t invited to this,” you informed them, “I nor All Might’s agency qualified for this event so it would be wrong of me to attend the after party for it.”  

Mirko looked at Hawks before she chuckled, “you weren’t invited but who said you weren’t someones date,” she said as you realized what she meant. you turned to Hawks who was laughing to himself, “you’re going to cause me premature grey hairs,” you stated. 

you and Hawks walked behind Mirko, them informing you that the only way you could enter was if you and Hawks walked through the line of reporters that were crowding around the front of the entrance. Hawks saw your face drain of its color as the nervousness crawled up. 

he gave you a genuine smile, not really knowing how to help you before grabbing your wrist gently, “you’ll be fine,” he murmured. 

you nodded as the two of you approached the line and put on huge smiles on your faces as the cameras immediately turned to you, reporters yelling for your attention, asking rapid fire questions. you looked to Hawks, telling him you should at least approach one before they sensationalized what was going on between the two of you in gossip shows and magazines. 

you approached the most nicest looking reporter, “(your hero name), it’s nice to see you! you’re here with Hawks!” she exclaimed. Hawks laughed, “is there something going on here? first in the morning, now at this event? is this the way the two of you are going public?” she asked. 

Hawks chuckled, glancing at you quickly, “wouldn’t that be crazy? the number two hero and the number five hero dating? I guess we’ll never know,” he mentioned, grabbing your hand and scurrying away. 

“Hawks! that was rude!” you exclaimed, “she was nice and you just ran off on her,” you lectured, Hawks not knowing whether to laugh or stand there and get lectured. he didn’t have enough time to choose as Mirko and a few other heroes approached the two of you. 

“you’re going to give our new friend a heart attack Hawks!” Mirko yelled, slapping Hawks in the arm. he tried dodging her, failing easily, “relax, I doubt they’ll do anything with that footage,” you sighed, seeing the bar not too far from where you were. 

“I’m going to get something to drink, I’ll be back,” you told them, quickly walking away. you had no idea how to start up a conversation with them. you felt very out of place, feeling as though they were just stringing you along with them because they felt bad. 

“are you okay? you seem a little out of it?” you heard Mirko’s voice say. you gave her a small smile, “I’m fine. just not used to this kind of thing,” you admitted, taking a sip of the extremely hard liquor you had ordered. Mirko giggled at the face you were making. 

“just relax! plus, if you’re wondering, this is the first time Hawks has ever done this with anyone. it’s surprising to all of us that he even came, nevertheless with a date. Hawks might act like an entitled brat but I promise you, underneath those layers of entitlement, he’s not that bad.” 

you remained silent, not knowing what to do with the information she gave you. after the two of you talked, you walked back to the group of heroes, trying to engage with them a bit more. every now and again, you would walk with whoever wanted a drink, just to give them company so they wouldn’t be alone. 

eventually, all of you got a table, sitting and drinking with each other. you couldn’t lie, the alcohol was hitting your system a bit more harsher than you thought it would. the buzz was swirling in your head as you chugged back a glass of water to see if you could shake it off. 

“I’m going to get some air. I’m getting a bit stuffy in here,” you told Mirko as Hawks stood up, offering to accompany you. you gave him a smile, walking out of the side door that led to an unlit alley, “how are you enjoying the night?” he asked. 

you tried to steady your breathing, hoping you were able to calm the buzzing feeling down, “yeah, it’s nice to get out,” you replied, a yawn coming from you, “but I’m feeling the alcohol a bit,” you said. 

the rest of the time you stood quietly, leaning up a bit against Hawks as he let you. you had no intentions of getting this close to him but with the alcohol mixing with your empty stomach, your actions spoke louder than the thoughts your brain were screaming at you. 

“i appreciate you taking me out tonight. it’s not every day someone like you offers for me to come out,” you mumbled, trying not to look at him in the eyes. Hawks hummed, bringing you in a little closer, “don’t worry about it. someone had to get you out of your shell, right?” he asked. 

you rolled your eyes, Hawks lifting up your chin to look at him, “plus, someone as cute as you shouldn’t be cooped up inside all the time,” he added on. “reporters might think that you and I have a thing together if you continue to be this way,” you mentioned, trying not to get flustered. 

he shrugged, not really caring for what this round of gossip magazines had to say about your relationship with him. 

“I don’t care, let them think what they want,” he whispered as you brought him closer to you. your lips were barely touching each other, “but I get the idea that you might want to continue this thing we have going on,” you joked. 

Hawks nodded, finally smashing his lips with yours, making you a bit surprised by the actions. you returned the kiss, your eyes shut as you felt Hawks grab your hand softly and hold it. once you let go, you saw the ghost of his small flustered expression on his face. 

what the two of you didn’t realize was that as the two of you were in the middle of the heated make out session, a reporter who was on their way to their car had spotted the two of you, smirking to themself as he quickly snapped the photo of you two and darting to his car.

“so does this mean I’ll get a date tomorrow?” Hawks asked making you laugh. you thought for a moment, making him stand on edge, “text me tomorrow and you’ll have your answer,” you joked, running back inside of the venue, making him chase after you. 

[noctuaas]

AS YOU WISH; t. kuroo

synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?

pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader

content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, fem!reader

fic navigation

01 ; THE BRIDE

TO BE THE MOST beautiful girl in the world was a concept far past your concern. Those around you certainly saw the potential, but at 16 years old, you simply could not care less to capitalize on your natural beauty. (Beauty routines were exhausting in your eyes. You only washed your face so as not to feel filthy, taking a razor to your leg hair was far more trouble than it seemed worth, and you were quite sick of brushing your hair, so you did so as little as possible.) All you really wanted to do was ride your horse and pester the farm boy that worked for your parents.

Prince, as you had taken to calling the horse when he was just a yearling, was a loyal companion. Other girls your age grew attached to one of their herding dogs’ pups, or the kitten of a barn cat, but you had Prince. He always came when you called, steered where you told him even on a loose rein, nuzzled your face on bad days. 

For all the time you spent taunting and bossing the farm boy around—“Farm Boy, fetch me this,” and “Farm Boy, take care of that,”—he always had one thing in common with the horse: he always did as he was told.

(Perhaps you knew that he was really a young man now—he was a year or two older than you—but he had been just an orphaned boy when he first came to work for your father, so that was what you referred to him as: Farm Boy.)

“As you wish,” he always replied, without fail.

Your father was fond of the farm boy, often remarking how he should leave him an acre of land in his will for all his hard work. These conversations never lasted long though, not before your parents would turn to you and chide you for needing to go bathe again and clean yourself up after spending the day in the barn.

Despite your disdain for taking care of yourself like a “proper lady,” as your mother liked to say, your natural beauty was still enough to cause the village boys to flock to you. Those dimwits always liked to badger you with stupid questions whenever you rode into town, offering silly favors and making awkward small talk, much to dismay of the rest of the girls in the village. The boys were always so annoying, and you often noted how much more tolerable Farm Boy was as you dismissed their advances. Eventually they took to making fun of you, laughing over snide remarks about you because they must have been embarrassed about being shot down. Sometimes the insults were too much to ignore, and when that was the case, Farm Boy took matters into his own hands. You always thanked him after he sent a village boy home bloodied and crying, and he always answered, “As you wish.”

You came to realize that Farm Boy was the only boy your age whose presence you seemed to enjoy. One night, you lied awake with the dim light from a full moon crawling through your window, thinking about how he was always kind and respectful to you, how he protected you and your honor, how he seemed to smile at you differently than he ever smiled at the other girls in town. (You also let yourself admit that he was quite handsome, with his amber eyes and ebony hair that was always in a perfect bedhead state, which was something you had never bothered caring about before.)

After that, your time was no longer divided between riding your horse and pestering the farm boy; now, ‘pestering’ was to be replaced with ‘falling for’. You let him join you on rides through the woods on Prince; you began doing your morning reading in the barn to keep him company while he fed the animals; you took it upon yourself to take out any extra supper your mother cooked to him. You even decided to stop calling him ‘Farm Boy’.

“What’s your actual name, Farm Boy?” you asked out of the blue.

“Why do you ask?” he had replied, and you snorted in mild amusement.

“Well, after having known you all these years, it must be quite rude of me to still call you ‘Farm Boy’.”

He paused and grinned that endearing grin of his, “Just call me Kuroo, then.”

Everything was so blissful for the year following. You loved Kuroo, and he loved you. Even on the day the royal Count and Countess of Aobajousai had strangely paid your family a visit, you both were sure of this; because while the Countess took Kuroo’s arm gently for him to show her the dairy cows and the Count watched you intently as you followed the small procession on your horse, you and Kuroo both stared at each other.

At the end of one year though, Kuroo unexpectedly showed up at your window in the middle of the night.

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”

You shot up straight in your bed, cocking your head incredulously, “What do you mean, ‘goodbye’?”

“I mean I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Have I done—”

“I’m taking to the sea to seek my fortune,” he cut you off. “There’s a ship that sails out of Karasuno, to the new country of Inarizaki. There’s great opportunity there, so I’m going.”

You were shell-shocked for a moment. Leaving? Sailing to Inarizaki? Where was this all coming from?

“But why? What about the farm? What about us?” You finally said. Your voice was already beginning to quiver pathetically as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“I’ve been training at night, so I hardly need sleep or food, and I’ll get two 10-hour-a-day jobs. I’m gonna save every penny, and in just a couple years I’ll have enough to buy a big farm and build a brand new house just for the two of us.”

“For the two of us?” Your brows furrowed and your voice was meek.

“Yes, (y/n). I love you. All these years I’ve stayed here because of you. I’ve taught myself foreign languages, made my body strong, everything, for you. I’ve been head over heels for you since I was a kid. Do you understand what I’m saying, or should I keep going?”

(By now, Kuroo had squeezed his broad frame through your window, somehow landing gracefully on the floor and sliding next to you on your bed so he could wipe away your tears with his thumb. It was a good thing he was athletic enough to do so quietly, because if your parents caught him in your room, all hell might break loose.)

“Never stop,” you mumbled dreamily.

“There hasn’t been a day—”

“You better not be teasing me, Kuroo, or I’ll have your hide,” you broke in this time. Kuroo loved to tease you, and it was normally all in good fun, but if that was the case now, then he was taking it way too far.

“I’d never joke about loving you,” he replied. “Remember all those years when you would tell me, ‘Farm Boy, do this, Farm Boy, do that’? What did I always say?”

“‘As you wish’.”

“Well, that’s just what you thought I was saying. I was actually saying ‘I love you’,” Kuroo smiled gently and ran his fingers through your hair.

All that time? You couldn’t even recall the first time Kuroo started saying ‘As you wish’ to all your commands, but apparently he had been in love with you. Before you had ever even noticed him, he was devoted to you. It sounded like a fairy tale.

“I love you too, Kuroo. I’ll never stop loving you, I swear,” you finally said.

“I’ll hold you to it, princess. I have to go now if I want to make it to Karasuno in time, but I’ll send for you soon. Promise.”

You nodded in understanding, but you couldn’t let him leave without one last kiss.

There had been five great kisses since the beginning of time. Though the precise rating of kisses is a bit convoluted and controversial (everyone knows that the formula for a great kiss is comprised of timing, affection, intensity, and duration, but there has never been a universal agreement on each element’s weight), there was no doubt that this kiss left every other in the dust.

The following morning, all you wanted to do was lay around and mope. It was perfectly justifiable, considering the love of your life had just left the country, and you wouldn’t see him for God knows how long. You wallowed in self pity for about an hour before realizing that Kuroo was out in the great big world now, and with as handsome as he was, he would surely have women throwing themselves at him.

What if all this moping destroys my beauty, and when he sends for me, I’ll arrive in Inarizaki, and he’ll take one look at me and send me back?

“Mother,” you ran downstairs, interrupting whatever petty argument your parents were having. “I need your advice. How can I better take care of my appearance?”

“You’ve never cared about your appearance, honey. Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”

“Well, I’m nearly 18 now. I figure it’s about time I start behaving a little more like a lady,” you lied. It was enough to appease your mother, and she grabbed your arm and began dragging you to the washroom in delight.

You quickly learned that taking such care of yourself was hard work; the saying, ‘beauty is pain,’ made an awful lot of sense now. But for Kuroo, nothing was too much. Every morning, you awoke at dawn to start the farm chores. You had to pick up all the slack left by Kuroo, so there wasn’t really any time for self-improvement until the afternoon, but once you started, you took it very seriously. Daily baths, simple exercises, and all the time it took to brush your hair out perfectly before bed.

If the whole town thought you were beautiful before, now they all knew you must be a contender for the most beautiful girl in the world. You, however, still had no care for how beautiful the rest of the world found you; as long as Kuroo found you beautiful. (In the coming years, you would learn that you were beautiful no matter what, and simplify your beauty routine to what you liked. As long as you felt clean and tidy, that was sufficient.)

Kuroo wrote you letters every few months, and you kept every one of them. Sometimes people would ask you how he was doing, which was a mistake unless they had a lot of spare time, because you could talk about him for hours. It was obvious that you were completely and utterly in love, and so the village boys eventually stopped trying, and the village girls warmed back up to you.

It made sense the way Kuroo’s death hit you the way it did.

The news reached your parents first. The Count (a new fellow named Iwaizumi, appointed by Prince Oikawa shortly after the last one’s death) was sent to your farm to deliver the news since it was Kuroo’s last known place of residence. You were returning from town on your horse when Count Iwaizumi was leaving your property.

“Miss,” he nodded politely as you crossed paths. You rode on in confusion, and the new Count watched you intently, much like the last one.

When you made it into the house, both your parents hushed up and looked at you with pity.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s The Crow’s Wing, darling. It was attacked,” your mother told you.

Kuroo’s ship was attacked? You furrowed your brows, “What?”

“Pirates. In the night,” your father explained.

You knew the trip across the sea would be dangerous, but you never thought it would happen to him. Sliding into a chair, you decided it might be best to sit down.

The room was quiet until you managed to squeak out, “So Kuroo’s been taken prisoner, then?”

A long sigh from your parents, and then, a, “No.”

“It was the Dread Pirate Nekomata.”

You blinked, willing back tears. The Dread Pirate Nekomata was the most famous pirate in all the world, and he never took prisoners. In all these years in his reign of terror, no one survived an attack from the Dread Pirate Nekomata.

You went to your room, and this time around, you allowed yourself to mope. For six days, you sulked, and cried, and mourned. Not once did you come out of your room, so your parents took to leaving food outside your door, which you only ever picked at meekly. During those six days in your room, you decided you would never love again.

[ourladyofomega]

A heads up:

I been noticing a change in trajectory in the past three months. This started when I elected to see a counselor. For months I searched for one and I was going nowhere. By that, I mean other counselors who returned your calls only to leave me high and dry with no callback. One counselor I did see for four weeks rehashed our conversations and asked the same questions over and over with no results, only to show disinterest in me and ultimately abandoned me when I called her out on it. A great help when people are suffering in the era of COVID- and political toxicity. I did find one who stuck with me and she’s pushed me to get stuff done. She understands about the personal turmoil I’ve been going through. And by learning to trust the environment around me and understand what she’s saying, I’ve learned with my own eyes to accept what’s on the surface.

That’s not all. Since my dad passed away, I revamped my diet to the best I could. He’s no longer here to pump me with free burgers, Chinese, sushi, fried chicken, and steak. So why not spend the money on more white meat, fruits, vegetables, and juices? This year I also elected to see a dietitian. Take dairy-free. Take gluten-free. Take hummus. Take almond milk. She has done more for me in two visits than any doctor had done for me in ten years. When you eat like shit, you’ll be it and feel like it. No more.

I’ve also been on a tear at work. Every month it seems that some of our top performers leave the company, so there goes my competition. Now I’ve been obliterating my daily and monthly goals with nothing or no one stopping me. Thanks to sales restructuring, I’m not only selling computers but everything else under the one roof. Four-piece kitchen sets, stackable washer-and-dryer combos-, $4,000 home theater tickets, and I just sold my very first 8K TV to a gamer who wanted to use his graphics card to the fullest potential. Who am I to argue? I’m projected to win the store in revenue, credit card applications, tech support memberships, hours worked, and transactions made if this keeps up. There’s even a very small chance I could cross the $2,000,000 finish line. Holy Godiva on a winged pegasus riding down a crowded Times Square if I do.

I have double or even triple the energy than that of the average person. No caffeine, no hard drugs, no magical force-fields or pixie bestowments. I been feeling unbeatable. My drive to get stuff done is insatiable. Believe it or not, I was fed up dealing with the surprise artists / apologists who sneak up behind me and cut into my sales (they’re not sorry for interrupting you), the adult-children who wave their arms and yell at me from the other end of the store to get my attention (those little ones are ignored anyway), or the Italian Joeys who act like they’ve known me forever (most I never met in my life) who put their arms around me and act buddy-buddy with me to get a discount. No dice. Now I see them coming and quash it  before they irritate me. They’re still a nuisance who need to be swatted away like wasps but no one day or town can do 100%. With the anti-anxiety scripts kicking in, I don’t feel as edgy as I used to.

With this streak I’m having, learning to stay in touch with myself, and still coming off of seeing Uniform in New York City, I ask myself if I ever want to go back to feeling like garbage? Of course not. I had it with waiting for some random to upend my day, to feel constant panic or walking around being ill. I can’t even imagine feeling like that again now that I’ve become more self-aware. There’s still a ways to go, however. I still plan on leaving retail and either do back-end tech support, web-building, or even more graphic design. Working at home would be ideal. With sound editing out of the way, I’ll be able to digitally archive more tapes and finally tackle that backlog of albums I’ve been meaning to listen to.

Off to the gym I go.