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coca-lastic · 2 months ago

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5 Green flags 🟩 VS 5 Red Flags 🟥

I'M BACK 👹

Well well, My last post about Keigo have lots of support from you all, and like I said, I'm willing to do a part 2 about Bakugo Katsuki sooo, here I am.

Tell me if you want a part 3 and which character you would like.

Let's start with his red flags. Let's be clear that Katsuki does have a few, it's true that it's nice to imagine him as an attentive boyfriend who takes the initiative, and I firmly believe that he would be like that, but that shouldn't hide the little things he has that can get on your nerves at the time of a fight.

Now, let's start listing his bad things:

1. He acts like you're a burden: I don't think he would do this on purpose, but he would. Comments like "What the fuck do you want now?", "Stop bothering me", "You're too intense", "Will you shut up?" can come up at the beginning of the relationship. Even to the point that you feel bad about his independent actions, as if you were just another thing on his list. Of course, deep down he doesn't consider you a burden, but he expresses himself as if you were one.

2. He doesn't open up to you: Katsuki has this constant thought that he can't be inferior, that he has to be the best and his feelings can be a difficult thing, and I think that in a relationship he feels a lot more pressure about all this to be strong and show you how tough he is. So I think that for a long time he won't tell you if something is wrong with him even if it's clear that something is wrong with him. This could just be something normal, but I add it as a red flag since a large part of Katsuki's life is clouded by those insecurities, so he doesn't tell you how he feels every time he sees Deku, or how he was in training, or how he felt when he won something, because if he does, his facade will fall apart. This ends up being something that can affect the communication between you two.

3. He doesn't understand you: He tries, he really does, but he just has a hard time understanding when you feel bad. He's so used to minimizing what's happening to him that he doesn't understand why it affects you so much. So you might be crying in his arms, and he might be hugging you, but deep down he doesn't understand, and that's terrible in arguments, because he doesn't understand why you're angry or why you're sad or why you're disappointed, he tries to fix it but he doesn't understand the roots of the problem.

4. He's jealous: Like, not jealous to get insecure when he sees you with a friend, jealous to get furious when he sees you with another man. And that, OBVIOUSLY, brings problems. He trusts you, he doesn't trust them, he knows you're hot and he also knows that the other jerks know it. So don't doubt that he's going to complain to you repeatedly that a certain person shouldn't be so close to you, or that he doesn't get along very well with a certain friend.

5. His anger: In the anime we can already see that he is a little bit... impatient. He tries to control himself with you, he truly loves you and treats you with his best version, but there are times when you simply act in a bad way, I mean, you also have your red flags, and that makes him angry, and you too, then you fight. A lot. For a long time. A lot of yelling. And probably a lot of painful words that he doesn't really feel, but says them, because his fury is faster to speak than to think, analyze and meditate.

Now, like every person, he has his flaws and his virtues. He has things to improve and things that you should love, because they are incredible.

So let's see what those good sides are and let's see which side of his personality ends up winning, let's see the second side of his furious personality.

1. He doesn't talk, he acts: Maybe he doesn't open up to you as much as he should, but he decides to make you feel comfortable by letting you know that he loves you through more practical methods. Are you hungry? He cooks, are you sick? He takes care of you, do you want a snack? He buys it. Because actions are worth more than words, so he decides to act, he decides to give you what you want, and consider yourself lucky because you are the only one who sees his helpful side.

2. He puts you first: If his friends invited him out to eat something, he won't care if you sent him a text telling him to go with you to buy something. If his mother told him she was going to celebrate a birthday with the family, he'll run away because you asked him to bring you some chocolates. Because he knows that if you love someone, you're not going to replace them with the smallest things, so if he has to make a decision that involves you, you'll always be the right answer.

3. He is not ashamed to show you off, he loves to do it: You are also part of his achievements, and being the show-off that he is, he will show you off. God, he has a sexy, smart, strong, kind and hot girlfriend, he has to show you and show them that you two are together, that he is a lucky and happy man.

4. He knows you: I think this is important, but not all men do it, in fact those who do are very few. Because not all of them observe you, remember, learn and please you, but Katsuki does. He is observant and knows how to listen, maybe he doesn't understand perfectly why you feel so much, why you get excited and sad about small things, but he knows that you do it, he knows how you feel, he knows how you reacts, he knows what you like and how he knows you, he knows how to please you, he knows how to make you happy with a gift, he knows how to excite you, he knows how to make you laugh and he knows how to make you feel loved.

5. You're part of his future: If he sees himself as a great hero, he sees you by his side, making and fulfilling your dream. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Hugging you. Caressing you. That's what he sees. Maybe two house, or a single one, whatever you want, maybe 2 children, or maybe none, just a pet, maybe a red car, or maybe a black car, but within all those variables there is one constant: you.

Sorry, this doesn't match your way of seeing Katsuki. Remember that he is still a character that each one sees and imagines in their own way, but I try to do it in a way that everyone feels comfortable.

Now, did the 🟩 flags or the 🟥 flags win?

#x reader #bakugo katauki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo x reader fluff #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bnha x reader

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madarasgirl · 5 months ago

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His Immortal

Permission to use art from the INCREDIBLY talented @vanerchest. Feeling very honoured! I think about this piece often whenever I write Alucard angst.

C/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x senior!Reader, angst, on death and dying, hospital setting, hurt/no comfort, shadow writing. Inspired by the legendary song "My Immortal" by Evanescence Words: 998

You supposed you were the one who was selfish for choosing this mortal fate and leaving your greatest love behind.

Did you regret this path? Sometimes you thought perhaps you did. There would have been tons to gain by becoming an ageless vampire at his side, and on occasion, you used to speculate 'what if?'

It didn't matter. It was far too late to backtrack anyways, and it would be an insult to do so, after living such a beautiful, full lifetime spent with Alucard, teeming with precious memories and magical experiences. He aged with you through the decades –at least he made it so his appearance did.

But as with all mortals who lived long enough, you too eventually grew very old, frail, and sick. Your body betrayed you and no longer belonged to you. It didn't obey when you wanted to walk, speak, eat, or even breathe.

So here you lay in a hospital bed, intubated and sedated, machines replacing the function of vital organs while multiple drugs dripped nonstop to hold you captive in this realm. What a sight you made, with tubes protruding from every corner on your skeletal form.

Your body may have failed, but fortunately you never developed dementia. Your mental faculties were as crisp as the night you met so long ago. A piece of you was still buried within, floating from above and somehow aware of the happenings around you in your comatose state.

The various alarms and buzzing were only background noises by now, and there was little commotion this time as well, but you felt a sense of relief. Sighing inwardly, you wished Alu would leave your side for a moment so you could just die already, though you knew that was an empty hope. The vampire had not parted from the bedside your entire stay.

Was he scaring the nurses by crying again? You hoped he'd remember to make them forget this time. And not to terrorize the staff and force them to do whatever it took anymore. You recalled the time you surfaced with another set of thick tubes in your neck and groin, and how painful they were. How frightening it was.

"You must live," he whispered to you at night at first. For his sake. So you did, trapped in the confines of your weathered shell, you continued to exist for him, slowly spiralling downhill until now.

With any other man, you'd be helpless to communicate in your vegetative state, but Alucard had never been as mediocre as 'normal.' So you begged him through telepathy. After all these years, reaching for his mind was as easy as sifting through your own thoughts, as natural as breathing (well, back when you were still able to do so independently). You implored him again to let you go. You were terminal and old, with no hope for recovery or any good prognosis. Being connected to every form of life support was not life, just a sad fate that prolonged your suffering and delayed your inevitable expiration.

Long ago, he promised not to let you suffer.

Alu, please don't make them bring me back again when my heart stops.

The weary, congested muscle thudded weakly towards failure. You were already dead in every way except you still possessed vital signs. The numbers were just evidence of the drugs, transfusions, and machines at work though.

The irony wasn't lost on you. At the end of the road, after declining his many offers to turn you when you were a maiden, you were finally just like Alucard, the living dead. You'd laugh if you could.

...More than anything, you didn't want him to see you like this, a husk of the vibrant woman you once were when you fell for each other. The unlikely circumstances of your meeting and scenes from your life flashed by in an instant. The vampire would tell you throughout the decades, when he'd get in one of his romantic moods, that you'd always be his sprightly young woman no matter your age. He actually only told you again yesterday. Or was it last week?

How long have you been laying here?

The mind's eye saw his seated figure clearly and smiled. Actually, your tired mind pondered, you certainly did not regret a moment of your life with Alucard. He was the perfect partner and his unchecked devotion never gave you a reason to regret choosing him. Your lifespan was too short for that, he used to tell you.

But you regretted leaving him behind to be alone once more.

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

Your heart stopped. And he loved you enough to let you go.

You were free.

Your spirit lifted from the prison of your flesh and you soared, wrapping around your love with your incorporeal form, sinking into him and caressing the unbeating heart that had ever belonged to you. This time, you wiped away the blood tears that fell.

You quivered.

Liberated from the pains and illnesses of advanced age, it was as if you'd become new and for the first time ever, like the fog lifted and you could finally see with clarity. Your non-existent chest tightened at the sight of your love crushed by your death, looking utterly devastated and lost. There was no sobbing or outward breakdown, but you knew his expressions well.

Nebulous fingers smoothed over inky black locks while you cradled his cheek. Glistening eyes the colour of polished rubies stared blankly at your lifeless corpse, your chest still rising and falling mechanically before the ventilator was turned off. He could not feel your soothing touch anymore and it broke you.

...

You will watch over your vampire from above and wait for him for the rest of your eternity, until he returned to dust and was no more. Then you'd meet him wherever he ended up. Just as he was, you were bound by the life you left behind.

And even if he was unaware, he still had all of you.

~End~

(For more angsty romance, check out my one-shot “Without You” on AO3. Warning: Smut abounds in that one. It is about the occasion when Reader chooses to remain human for her remaining days with Alucard. You will find similar themes to this short scene)

#alucard hellsing #alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard fanfiction #vampire x human #angst #Actually I'd rather die of old age in my sleep #In bed with Alucard and not a living corpse in a hospital #But mentally I needed to write this piece for myself #Reader is more likely to be very puffy and edematous based on her medical status and elderly comorbidities #But I used “skeletal” instead for the effect #tw death #monster lover

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fatum679 · 5 months ago

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The screenwriters are completely unprofessional and mediocrity.

hotd s2x02

The second episode was a complete disappointment for me.

My poor Helaena, no one comforts her, no one is around, Aegon walked past ignoring her. The mother talks about the debt while violating the debt.

We were not shown the Dreamfyre and how the body of Prince Jaehaerys is burned. More screen time was spent on Rhaenyra's suffering. Of course, why would showrunners show the suffering of other characters if they are not Rhaenyra.

And stop comparing Jaehaerys to Luke. Luke was 14, Rob Stark fought a war at 14, Luke was a dragon rider, he had a conflict with Aemond since childhood, he participated in his uncle's bullying, he and other children attacked him, he cut out Aemond's eye and did not bring apologies. This injury dooms him to lifelong suffering and health problems (do not forget that Aemond’s eye was pulled out without normal painkillers. Such wounds lead to infection, necrosis, fever, and the fact that Aemond did not die is very lucky) Jaehaerys did not bully anyone, he didn't cut out anyone's eyes, he was an innocent baby.

Helaena as a character is incredibly interesting and I'm disappointed that we weren't shown her normal relationship with the people, how she takes part in the small council or communicates with her dragon. I'm afraid that she will remain a background character. I'm disappointed that no one came to console her. And I didn't like the way Helaena spoke about ordinary people, because we know from the book they loved her. But I understand that she does not want to show her grief.

How the constant emphasis on Rhaenyra irritates me. We see Helaena and are then shown Rhaenyra and her children. We understood that she is a Mary Sue and the main character, but we can do without these cheap parallels and comparisons. This woman wanted to torture her little brother after her son cut out Aemond's eye. She didn't love her siblings, she ignored them, she is not a good big sister. Rhaenyra literally created the cause and created the effect. But they propagandize us that she is a “kind-hearted person”.

Daemon was shown as he really is and was in the books, finally. That he doesn't care about anyone except himself and his ego.

Aegon ignores Helaena. I am once again convinced that they have nothing in common, he was not even interested in how Jaehaera was feeling. Aegon acted like a fool by killing all the ratcatchers. But an even bigger mistake was putting them on display. Aegon remains a fool and makes mistakes.

Otto Hightower is the only one who really deserves to have a crown. He is ambitious and has no real love for his family, but he is a man of politics, he knows what is best for the kingdom. I support him as a ruler. Now I wonder what Viserys said about Aegon.

Criston Cole disappointed me. You talk about a white cloak even though you yourself are not faithful to your oaths. The writers keep making all the green party characters so repulsive. However, Criston just annoys me.

Alicent continues to care more about Rhaener than her children. She doesn't want to hold a public funeral for Jaehaerys, not because she cares about Helaena's feelings, but because she cares about Rhaenyra's reputation.

Alicent and Criston are a big disappointment. Alicent doesn't think about her children. Aemond is ready to pay the whore and talk about his mental traumas. Alicent does not reassure Helaena, Aemond, or Aegon. Alicent is a bad mother. She ignores everything. I don't like Aegon, but Alicent should have consoled him instead of walking past him. What is wrong with you? Where is your dead grandson's lit candle?

Fuck what the writers did to Aemond. I understand that childhood trauma and bullying leave consequences for the rest of your life. But Aemond, get your shit together. I consider this a retcon. Aemond from the first season would not go to a brothel, would not cry to a whore and would not pay for consolation. This doesn't look like him. Aemond from Season 1 would have gone to Vhagar and told her everything. I just watched this scene on 2x. The scene was disgusting to me. What is their age difference? 30 years? I hate alysmond and I hate Aemond x Madame. Madame seems to be manipulating Aemond. Thank fuck there was no milk sucking.

Jaehaerys was kill. Aemond, how much can you cry about Luke's death. Take responsibility for your actions, accept the fact that there were reasons for revenge and you did it because you wanted to take revenge for all the pain and suffering. It infuriates me. Why don't you talk about the death of Jaehaerys?

Corlys and Rhaenys talk about Daemon after sex. You guys don't have anything else to talk about. Maybe you could invite him into your bed? Cringe.

Laenor was dead - no one doubted it.

Mysaria was made not guilty of anything - obviously. Female characters on the black side can't be bad.

There is no drama in the twins' battle. I thought Ser Arric would be shocked by the prince's death and, like a twin, would be saddened by Jaehaera's condition and volunteer for the mission himself. But again we have evil greenies and he had no choice.

Daeron is exists.

BDSM games from Alicent and Criston.

The screenwriters are completely unprofessional and mediocrity.

🤮🤡

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lycandrophile · 1 year ago

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i typically don’t post “off topic” since this is a blog with a very specific focus, but i can’t just post on here business-as-usual as if i didn’t just spend a significant amount of my afternoon learning about and crying for the family of a palestinian girl who just learned that most of her loved ones are dead.

a common refrain on this blog has been “we are hurting, we are dying, please pay attention.” so i feel the need to stress now that if you’ve ever heard and listened to that sentiment coming from me about my community and the violence we’ve faced, i need you to hear it now and listen to it now when it comes a thousand times more desperately from the mouths of palestinians in the face of the atrocities that are taking their homes, communities, and lives away. i need to make it abundantly clear that if you see what i talk about here and agree and support it but you won’t extend that same solidarity to the palestinians who need it now, you’ve entirely missed the point.

i also want to stress that you cannot let yourself fall for the propaganda that tries to pit queer and trans people against palestinians. there are queer and trans palestinians and their lives are also being destroyed. they exist and they are part of this family and we need to show up for them and their families. so please keep in mind that every time someone says “if you were queer or trans in palestine you would be killed,” what you’re hearing is an attempt at distracting you from who’s actually killing the queer and trans people in palestine.

i’m one of many people who feel incredibly out of their depth thinking about all of this, and i know that even once i’m better educated, i’ll never stop feeling deeply unqualified to talk about it in depth. i get feeling like you don’t understand it, i get feeling like you can’t do anything about it.

but you don’t need to understand every nuance of the politics or know every bit of the history or feel like an expert in it to give a shit. you can and should(!!!!!!!) learn more and find ways that you can contribute, but in the meantime, the absolute least any of us can do is not look away from this. you don’t need to be an expert to see the tragedies unfolding in front of us and know that they are wrong.

i’ll never forget that girl’s family. i’ll never forget the beautiful babies in those pictures who never got to grow up, or the aunts and uncles and grandparents who were taken before their time. i never knew them, but i felt their loss and cried for them and i will never forget them. they and the countless others like them deserved so much better, and those who are still surviving deserve freedom.

so if you’ve ever fought for my community or any other community facing violence, i better fucking see you fighting for palestinians now.

#free palestine #save gaza #boycott israel #ceasefire now #somebody close to me is at a protest for palestine right now and i wish i could be there too #but alas i am sick and it would be irresponsible to potentially spread it to that many people #i probably won’t talk about this much here beyond this but i needed to make sure i said something #i couldn’t just keep posting as if this isn’t happening and as if i’m not engaging with it #as i said i’m not the most knowledgeable yet but that’s no excuse for total silence #especially because this blog is the biggest active following i have pretty much anywhere right now #that’s something i’m trying to get better about and i figured now is as good a time as any to start

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mamayan · 10 months ago

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Okay imagine this - (you don't have to do it, you can delete this if it makes you uncomfy, I love you and you have done nothing wrong ever) - but IMAGINE okay?

Bakugo Katsuki, The Dynamight, number two hero, and his child with you is quirkless (bonus if reader is also quirkless)

Imagine the disappointed ambition - he was so sure the kid would inherit his quirk or something similar, he was so sure - especially since the kid looks like Katsuki - and yet...

I guess I'm in mood for hurt-comfort 😔

Honestly, I see this affecting our dearest mama here, as it’s likely for Katsuki to really fall for someone after being a bully/jerk to them.

Imagine his quirkless sweetheart, desperate to please and impress at all times because they’re just useless without a quirk (thanks to his bullying in the past) and realizing their child inherited their quirkless gene?

Pro-Hero Katsuki Bakugo x Quirkless Fem! Reader!

Growing Pains

cw: SFW • Language (R) • Hurt/Comfort • Bully to Lovers • Child Care (tis the season) • Pro-Hero Katsuki • Fem! Reader • Marriage • Katsuki learns how to communicate a little better

A child is a gift so precious one must always be careful never to forsake it.

That’s what his hag-mother always said at least. The endless joy though which his daughter brought truly lived up to her words though. A gift. A precious, incredibly tiny and fragile, gift he swore to never forsake as he held the bundle in his arms at the hospital.

You looked beautiful even after so long in labor. Joy painting your features and making his heart ache from the sugar being injected into his veins. The love and adoration in your eyes only making his resolve harden further, to protect you both and love you two till his last breath.

So what changed from that moment till now? As a normally happy rambunctious toddler sits in complete stillness with eyes wide in horror. You didn’t look any better, skin perspiration more than his own on a usual day, lip being chewed until the skin breaks and he’s forced to grip you tightly.

“Hey—,” his gruff voice wakes you up.

“I’m so sorry…” his brows furrow in confusion, your apology unexpected and odd.

“The fuck are you sorry for?” He feels the atmosphere in the room start to divulge, his child and you both acting as if you’d heard a cancer diagnosis and not something he’d already considered the possibility of. Of course he’d wanted his daughter to have a quirk, but it didn’t call for such a grave reaction.

“It’s all my fault… I’m so sorry baby…” the tears freak him out more, your tears flowing endlessly as you stare at him with such hopeless eyes he’s startled to his core. Dark garnet eyes widening as a sick feeling enters his gut, something churning he can’t even name. “I failed both you and our daughter, making her weak and worthless like me—,” He’s going to be sick for sure, the sterile little clinic room starting close in on him.

He’s Dynamight, number 2 pro hero, and only because shit for brains Deku was better with the media but still, he’s not sure what to do. How to fix it, as you hold your child and cry, asking for forgiveness from him.

It makes him remember every instance of the past he cringes and does his best to avoid thinking on. Every tug of your hair, every shove to the floor, every time he made you feel small for something so superficial as not having a quirk.

Your tears were endless, and they seemed to spur on his daughter as well, her little sniffles making him nearly enraged as the door creeks open at the worst moment and the doctor returns.

The woman’s sympathetic gaze make him want to punch her, the way she seems understanding and not offended as himself.

“It can be a hard acceptance Mrs. Bakugo, I’m happy to recommend some quirkless support groups for the two of you, then we can look at some family care plans—,”

“What. The. Fuck. Are you talking about? Support group? They don’t need a fucking support group, your raggedy ass bitch—!”

“Katsuki!” “Mr. Bakugo?!” “Papa?”

It didn’t matter, he wasn’t hearing words anymore, top blown and his tempter unleashed as he nearly blows the door off after throwing you both over his shoulder and storming out. Cursing the entire way, uncaring of the phones being pulled out and people whispering and recording. He’d get an earful from the agency but it hardly computed in his mind.

Your fault? It seemed clear enough it was his fault. When all he ever did was make you feel belittled for your quirklessness, small and weak because of it, and now what did it do?

It passed on to his own fucking kid. His fault. This was his fucking fault.

His own eyes were admittedly wet as he shuts you both up in the car. Making sure you both are buckled in safely before he nearly screams once he’s seated behind the wheel. He wants to scream more, yell and break something to deal with the flood of guilt and shame washing him like an old friend.

He never apologized, only pushed it all away like the bullying and harassment never occurred when he started courting you. He’d been in love with you, and that bullying was his sick revenge for making him feel so much adoration for a single individual.

His frame engulfs the seat, muscles taunt and wide chest heaving as he calms down slowly to your silent tears and wobbly bottom lip.

“Katsuki… can we not have any discussions with her in the car…? Maybe we…,” you lick your lips as you fumble over yourself like a nervous wreck in the passenger seat, eyes wide and pacifying as you give him a look filled with a plea. “—Maybe we could have her stay with your mother tonight?”

Because you think he’s angry at you and at her.

For being quirkless.

The most defenseless and precious people to him, the two he’d sworn to never hurt or mistreat, now looking at him with complete devastation and heartbreak. His daughter is never usually so silent and still, sitting like a little doll in her car seat.

He’d always been a confident man. Unshakeable and firm in his resolve because he refused to settle and let himself be anything less than the best.

For all he is though, he’s never felt more helpless and human.

You flinch when the first tear falls.

The sight just as jarring as the realization your child is like you.

Katsuki’s eyes widen before narrowing as he grits his teeth and bares them like a hurt animal, tears spilling as he slams his head on the steering wheel in frustration. The windows tinted and thankfully adding a touch of privacy he’s grateful for now.

“I’m sorry—!” It’s wobbly and hissed like a curse, his apology burning his throat as he forces it out. He can’t look at you as he wipes at his face, shaking his head as he clears it to focus long enough to repeat himself.

“I’m so fucking sorry—never, never did I think less of you ‘cuz you didn’t have a damn quirk—! I was an asshole, a piece of shit that didn’t know how to deal with my crush on you, so I fucking ruined it by picking on you.” His eyes are blood shot, kept wide to prevent anymore liquid spillage but the way his entire face and body scrunch up, it’s difficult to believe he’s able to stop himself on sheer will alone.

“Papa…?” It’s like a slap to the face when he looks over at his daughter to see a spitting image of you both in her, features more like him but personality following you in a way that makes him melt.

“Y’listen good,” he gathers himself up better as he addresses your daughter now. “You will never be less than anyone else, quirk or no quirk, y’hear me?”

“But—,”

“No buts. It’s not up for debate. A quirk doesn’t classify a person’s value. It never has. We just associate them with power when in fact, a bunch of useless quirk havin’ shit stains run the country. A quirk ain’t power kid, power is in will, and that’s all you.” He’s glad you kindly dismiss his slip in language, watching as her little eyes widen and well with tears too.

“So I’m not bad?”

“You’re the best damn thing that’s happened since I met your mom. I love your mom, don’t I? She’s great even if she doesn’t have a quirk. Strong and resilient, patient and smarter than I’ll ever be.” He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight it may break soon if he doesn’t release his grip.

Then he’s being met with you. Your arms wrapping around him, your own muffled cries in his shirt. His hands are around you just as quickly, pulling you into him as much as the small space in the vehicle allows, breathing you in and calming himself as he reaches out and unbuckles your daughter to pull her little body into the bear hug too.

“You mean it…?” Your whisper barely audible as he holds you both close.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

And that’s enough for this moment. While he’s not a great man, Katsuki truly never lies, sometimes honest to a point it’s painful.

This is a bittersweet pain though.

Dividers/ @cafekitsune

#Yan answers #Yan loves her mooties #tw: child care #bnha #bakugou katsuki #pro-hero katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #hurt/comfort #mha

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tkwrites · 11 months ago

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Before I Meet Your Parents... - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Before I Meet Your Parents…

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC)

Warnings: Crying, Grief, Smut (18+ only), oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving)

Summary: As Sarah prepares to meet Quinn’s parents, she’s bombarded with new feelings and situations, as well as trying to manage her own life. A very worried Quinn helps her get to the bottom of it and does everything he can to make it better.

Word Count: 4,600

Comments: I began writing Sarah meeting Quinn’s parents and realized I was missing this crucial step. Stories like these help me process my own grief, and I hope they can be helpful for you, too, even if you’re not experiencing a big loss. Taking care of ourselves can be difficult sometimes. Please remember that self care isn’t selfish - nor is it selfish to ask for what you need.

The holidays have been…an experience, and while I was writing, I wasn’t finding the solid chunks of time I’ve had in the past. With the busiest holidays done, I was able to finish this, and hope to write a lot more with the break from work between holidays.

Thank you for your patience and support and love for Quinn and Sarah and my writing. I hope you enjoy.

Before I Meet Your Parents…

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The week Quinn’s parents were coming into town turned into a total clusterfuck.

First, there were the Canucks standings. Quinn point blank refused to talk about their position, not wanting to jinx anything. “It’s bad enough that I have to talk to the media about it after every game. I'm not talking about it at home.”

Even without his commentary, Sarah knew enough from reading and following the league stats, to know the Canucks were headed to the finals, bringing playoff hockey to Vancouver for the first time in nine years. It was a huge deal, and if all went to plan, they were expected to clinch a spot in the bracket in the next two games.

His parents wanted to be in the arena for the historic occasion when their son led his team to the Stanley Cup finals in his first year as captain.

In addition to the will-they-won't-they stress of the finals, Lexie Demko had called and left a message for her about getting WAG jackets. Sarah had to look up what they were, and the idea of showing up as an official “WAG” to any game, let alone a playoff game, was incredibly intimidating.

She and Quinn weren’t even officially official yet. She’d been thinking of him as her boyfriend for a few weeks and had no interest in dating anyone else. Unless he was seeing someone while she was in school, she knew he wasn't seeing anyone else either, but they hadn’t formally defined anything about their relationship.

On top of all this, she was prepping for her own finals. Although they were more than three weeks away, the two tests and publication project were looming over her like an albatross. She had to get a B or better, or she would be out of her program, and back home with her education visa voided.

The prospect of the work it would take to finish her semester well, and the possibility of stepping into the world of a WAG and meeting Quinn’s parents had her discombobulated and spending long stretches of time at the aquarium with Walter, trying to wrap her mind around everything.

As she left a couple of nights before his parents were set to arrive, Rick stopped her, “I think your man is at the front desk.”

It felt like she had to suck her mind from a thick fog to even register his words. “Hu?”

“I’m pretty sure your man is up front,” he repeated, “they wouldn’t let him back. Are you okay?”

She waved off his question and walked to the front of the building. Quinn was indeed there, looking distressed.

“Is everything okay?”

“Can I give you a ride home?”

“Sure, if you want.” Didn't he have plans with one of his teammates tonight?

Anxious thoughts dripped into her mind. She knew she hadn't been very communicative lately. Was he breaking up with her?

Quinn took her hand and led her to his car.

Once tucked inside where people couldn’t overhear, he asked, “is something wrong? You haven’t come over to study the past three days, and you didn’t answer any of my texts today.”

She looked at the bag at her feet, feeling far away. “I'm sorry. My phone’s been buried in my backpack all day,” she confessed.

“I just feel like you’re…” he stopped himself, not even wanting to voice that thought. “Is it because you’re nervous to meet my parents?”

A heavy feeling took up residence in her stomach. “No,” she said slowly.

It wasn’t quite the whole truth, but also wasn’t a total lie. Logically, she wasn’t that nervous to meet them, but her emotions ran themselves into dizzy, knotted up circles whenever she thought about it. Things weren’t making sense. God, she felt so… she felt so off. There was more to this mood she was in than nerves, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

His hand, warm and comforting, covered her knee. “Sarah, what’s going on?”

All at once, she was choking back tears.

“Can we go to your place?” she asked, very much not wanting to lose it in his jeep in the middle of Stanley Park, or in her bedroom where Eunice would jump to conclusions and tell her she ought to break up with Quinn if he was making her cry.

The way her voice shook made Quinn gulp. “Yeah, of course,” he said before starting the car and going home.

When they got there, her steps to the elevator were heavy, as if she were dragging some heavy sledge he couldn’t see.

“Sar, what’s going on?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and willed the tears not to fall until they were in his house.

Just as she suspected, someone joined them once they reached the lobby level. They shared a tense, silent ride for 12 floors as Sarah mentally recited the anatomy of the stingray to keep her tears from falling in front of a stranger.

“You’re kind of scaring me,” he said gently as the door swung shut behind them.

On top of everything else, now she was letting Quinn down. Her hands fluttered up to cover her face as her tears finally broke free.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, taking her arms and gently trying to pull her hands away from her face.

“I don’t know.”

“You…don’t know?” he repeated, a little dumbfounded.

Her hands dropped in defeat. “I don’t know,” she repeated, finding more tears falling. What was wrong with her?

Heart beating faster with worry, he took her backpack off, leaving it in the entryway before guiding her to the couch.

“Are you upset with me? Did I do something?”

“No.”

“I don’t…” he started, then stopped. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. He was really scared now. If he didn’t do anything, and she didn’t seem to be injured, he couldn’t understand what the problem would be.

“Can you hold me?”

He drew her into his arms.

After a few comforting moments - focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat - she was able to voice something. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

“With what?” he asked, running a hand up and down her back. At least they had a clear direction. He could work with that.

“With everything. With school and WAG jackets and…” oh, fuck. Of course this was what this was about. She should know by now. “And your parents,” she finished, breaking into more tears.

“Are you that scared of my parents?” he asked, pulling back trying to see her face.

He knew meeting the parents was a big, intimidating step, but she’d handled meeting Brady, and that first uncomfortable call with Luke and a very guarded Jack with so much grace, he hadn’t expected her to be nervous, let alone so upset. “I think they’ll love you. I can’t guarantee how they’ll react, but they’ve always been nice to girls they’ve met in the past.”

Her head shook slowly.

“I don’t - Sarah I don’t understand.”

To add insult to injury, she had to say it out loud.

“I’m meeting your parents,” she said, looking into his eyes before her face crumpled and she stared down at her hands, knotted in her lap, “but you won’t get to meet mine.” Her voice was a desperate kind of wailed whisper.

Shit. He should have known. Of course that would come up with something like this. His dad once told him every major occasion was tinged with grief, knowing someone was always missing from the celebration. The fact that this would be hard for her hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Letting herself be pulled into Quinn, Sarah wept into his shoulder. His hands were heavy, warm and grounding on her back.

“I’m so sorry,” he said into her hair.

He’d never seen her so distressed. Even when she’d cried the first time he’d seen her tattoo, it hadn’t been like this. Then, it was no more than a minute of soft tears hitting his shoulder. This was so much more intense. He would probably be weeping too if he was in her position.

She pulled back suddenly, her hands braced on his shoulders, “don’t you have stuff with Brock tonight?”

“I canceled it when I hadn’t heard from you,” he admitted. “I was worried something had happened.”

“Oh,” she said, body relaxing.

The impact of what he said finally hit her. “Oh, Quinn, I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, “don't be. I can have dinner with Brock any time.”

“But, weren't you helping him pick out a ring or something?”

“Sarah,” he said, grasping her shoulders, “it's fine. We're doing it tomorrow after practice.”

“I'm sorry,” she said again, shaking her head.

“You don't need to apologize. When it comes to being moral support for Brock or making sure you're okay, I'd rather be with you.”

She gave him a watery smile, hoping it conveyed how sweet she thought that was.

“I’m sorry I didn’t even think about how hard this would be for you,” he said.

Shaking her head, Sarah reached up to wipe her cheeks. Her fingers came away smudged in black. “Oh, God. Now I’m a mess.”

He laughed a little, “do you want to go wash your face? I know you don’t have your stuff, but you can use mine.”

A shaky breath rattled through her lungs. “Could I actually take a shower?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve kind of been putting things off.”

She hadn’t washed her hair in four days, and couldn’t remember if she’d showered at all that morning.

Even though she’d talked several times with her therapist about coping strategies and patterns to look for, when she couldn’t identify what she was feeling, her first instinct was still to shut down. It was so totally different to talk about it than it was to actually do it. The time it took to realize what was wrong was getting shorter, at least. That was a good thing.

“Do you want some of my stuff to change into?” he asked.

“That would be really nice.”

Her stomach gave a sudden, loud grumble.

A surprised laugh flew out of Quinns mouth.

“I’m not sure I’ve eaten today,” she confessed.

Another part of what had her feeling so terrible. It was all interconnected, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn’t.

Quinn’s eyes widened. How did someone forget to eat?

“What do you want?” he asked, jumping onto the problem he could physically solve.

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to think.

“Pancakes,” she said, finally, thinking about how pleasant the fluffy breakfast food would feel in her mouth.

“I can make pancakes. I don’t have any syrup though, I don’t think.”

“That’s okay. Do you have peanut butter?”

He nodded.

“Thank you, Quinn,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.

He patted her hip, “let's go then. I'll cook while you're in the shower.”

The fact that he was being so sweet and nice made tears well up in her eyes as she stood.

Leading her into the bathroom, Quinn asked if she needed anything else. When she said she didn’t, he told her he would put some clothes for her on the counter.

The prospect of washing the day off made her breathe a sigh of relief.

The big, walk-in shower was so bright, and opulent. Creamy white and blue tiles made a Moroccan style mosaic on the floor, and white subway tile was in the rest of the…it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to call it a room, that wasn't occupied with the thick glass sliding doors. There was even a tall, thin window right in the shower with a view of the northern skyline and the soft evening light winking off the harbor.

Pushing worries of wasting water or draining the heater out of her mind, Sarah allowed herself to enjoy the rare luxury of a hot shower with no roommates demanding the bathroom.

The water here got so much warmer than it did in her house. Quinn probably had his own water heater, not just access to the building boiler.

Standing under the water, she breathed the humid air and allowed the dam to break.

It was always strange, how giving something a name made it easier to feel and let run its course. Voicing what was wrong was always half the battle.

It had been a long time since she’d felt grief like this. Since it had been so triggered. Things with Quinn were so, so good. Far better than anything she could have ever dreamed up for herself, but being in a relationship still brought up new experiences, and new ways she hadn't yet missed her parents.

Thinking of Quinn made the big emotion in her chest ease. A soft swell of gratitude displacing some of the sadness. She’d never dated someone like him - someone so willing to try to understand. Someone who took her where she was and wasn’t put off by how much she missed her parents.

When Kaleo, her boyfriend in Hawaii, had confessed he didn’t understand why she brought up her dad so much, it had been a slap in the face, and made her feel so alone with someone who was supposed to be her partner. He had basically run away when her mom died, not willing to make the trip to the funeral, despite their dating for more than a year. It had been the final crack in the foundation of their relationship, and a big part of why her return to the islands lasted less than a week before she moved back home.

Quinn was so refreshingly different - kind and compassionate, and willing to listen. The universe had been keeping track of all the sad, frustrating things in her life and finally gave her the good things she was due all poured into one person.

Though she never heard him come in, a pair of blue sweats and a yellow Michigan shirt were waiting on the bathroom counter for her.

When she walked into the kitchen, Quinn felt his eyes go wide. Now was not the time for him to get all lustful over Sarah in his clothes, but it was impossible not to. She was braiding her wet hair, and it made her breasts, so obviously out of a bra, jostle under the Michigan logo stretched over them.

Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he asked, “did you have a good shower?”

She’d been in there a long time - nearly 45 minutes. When he dropped the clothes off, She’d been crying, so he supposed not all of that time was actually spent bathing.

She tied off the end of the braid as she walked up to him. “I did, thank you,” she said before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His arm wound around her waist, and pulled her against him. “Good. I hope these are up to standard. The recipe had good reviews.”

“I thought you said you could make pancakes?”

“I can,” he said, gesturing to the stove where the last of them was cooking in the pan, “I just didn’t have a recipe. At home, we always make them from a mix.”

“And you didn’t have any here?”

A sheepish smile spread over his face, “pancakes are one of my guilty pleasure foods, so I try not to have it in the house.”

She giggled, and a sigh raced through his veins.

A whiff of his own soap hit him, and he remembered what he’d been thinking when he first heard her walking down the stairs.

“Hey, will you message me the kind of shampoo you like and whatever else you need? I’ll order it so you can have the stuff you like here.”

Sarah took half a step back from him, eyes wide.

Maybe he’d overstepped. “Not that you can’t use mine. You’ve just showered here a few times and it seems kind of silly to not have the things you like.”

Also, he was tired of her smelling like his soap. He liked her smell so much, he’d do anything to keep it around.

“Oh,” she said, feeling watched over and considered. “That would be really nice.”

They sat down at the bar counter with pancakes, peanut butter, butter, jam, and a tiny bottle of maple syrup Quinn remembered he had from a gift basket when he'd moved in.

“Thank you for this,” she said, knocking her shoulder into his.

“You're welcome.”

“It’s just been such a shit week, and you’re so…” she paused, thinking and put a peanut butter and syrup coated piece of pancake in her mouth. “You’re so good.”

He blushed and tried to deflect the praise, “so what else are you overwhelmed with? School, and something about jackets?”

A flush flew into her cheeks. “Lexie called me about WAG jackets.”

“Oh,” he said, not really sure what the big deal was.

“I’m just,” she paused, setting down her fork. “Do you want me to wear one?”

“There’s no one else I’d want to wear it.”

“But, are you ready for that?”

“Ready for what?”

“For me to be so obviously… I mean, we’re not even official yet.”

“Right.”

“But you want me to wear a wives and girlfriends jacket?”

“We’re headed that way, aren’t we? I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

Even though she felt the same, a huge wave of relief swept through her. “I’m not either but, if I wear a Jacket to a playoff game -”

He winced, not liking her to talk about it like it was a foregone conclusion.

“Or any game,” she amended, “people are going to wonder. Do you know what comes up when you google NHL WAG jackets?”

He shook his head.

She went to dig her phone out of her backpack, finally seeing the ten texts from Quinn, along with a missed call from her brother.

She really needed a pair of airpods or a watch or something she could wear while her phone had to stay in her bag in the lab.

Pulling up the search, she handed her phone to him before going back to her pancakes, now deliciously infused with syrup.

“Go to the reddit listing,” she suggested.

He scrolled down and clicked on the link, already turned gray from her previous visit. The whole page was speculation about which woman belonged to which player.

“If I go with a jacket, and someone posts pictures, that’s going to throw our relationship into this, and I just want to make sure we’re…ready for that.”

“Are you ready for that? Because it’s okay if you’re not.”

She bit her lip, “I’m not sure. It makes me kind of uncomfortable. It makes it feel like I belong to you or something,” she admitted.

Quinn grimaced.

“I can see how you got there,” he said, setting the phone face down. “You don’t have to get one and as far as I’m concerned, you never do, but I think you might want to talk to Lexie about it first.”

“Why?”

“The wives and girlfriends have a kind of support group. They hang out, and they help each other a lot. Lexie had a baby in October, and I know the other partners were really helping. Organizing meals and stuff like that. From what I know, the jackets are more about being part of that club than about -” he didn’t even want to say it, “belonging to someone on the team.”

She hummed. Sarah had sat with some of the wives and girlfriends at games a few times. They were always nice and very welcoming, but she didn’t feel this kind of camaraderie.

“Lexie asked me if you wanted one, and I didn’t know, so I gave her your number. I’m sorry, I should have warned you about it.”

“I just didn’t know what it meant,” she confessed. “Or if you were, like, trying to say something through Lexie somehow.”

He laughed, “no. I just didn’t want to make the decision for you. I’m sorry if it heaped more stress onto your plate.”

“It’s okay, it’s just new, you know?”

“Yeah. It took me a while to transition. If I didn’t have Tanev, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Who’s Tanev?”

“He was my defensive partner my first year. He was traded to Clagary, but he and his then fiance, Kendra, really helped me find my feet.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Emma about it.”

“Yeah? You guys talk?”

“Sometimes, we’re not besties or anything, but she checks in.”

Quinn smiled, relief filling his bones.

“Do you want me to take you home? Or would you rather stay here?” Usually, he wouldn’t have even asked but she looked so tired and comfortable, he wasn’t sure she’d want to make the trek.

Relief swept through her. She didn’t want to overstep - but the last thing she wanted was to go home. The idea of leaving to sleep in her cold, empty bed seemed like a terrible one.

“I’ll let Eunice know I won’t be home,” she said as an answer. The last time she’d slept over, Eunice had called three times in a row to break through Sarah’s do not disturb, worried she had been abducted in the middle of the night.

As they settled in bed, and she scooted herself close to him, he tried to pull in some calming breaths. It didn’t really work. He’d been half hard all night seeing her in his clothes, and now that she was scooting up against him, he slid way beyond half.

“Sorry,” he coughed.

Sarah turned over, “for what?”

Cheeks flaming, he wondered why he’d said anything at all. “I just…sorry,” he gestured down. “You in this shirt is a real turn on.”

“Really?”

She and Quinn were relatively similar sizes overall, but he was far more rectangular than she was. She felt like this shirt pulled over all of her soft bits in the most unflattering way possible, not to mention the yellow color made her look pale and washed out.

“Yeah,” he said with an earnest nod.

Sarah had been wondering all night how she could properly thank him. Now that the opportunity was here, she had to seize it. Capturing his mouth, she rolled on top of him.

His hands went to her hips as a groan fell out of his mouth.

Every time she went to pull away, he followed her, nipping her bottom lip, or stroking his tongue over the roof of her mouth; he didn’t want to let her go.

She broke away all together and sat up, so she was straddling his hips.

Quinn, who was already out of breath from the kissing, felt his chest hitch as she reached for the hem of her (his) shirt, and began pulling it up. She was even doing that arms crossed skin-the-cat kind of move. God, this was - she was a dream come true.

Watching her ease the blue M over her chest, knowing his name was on her back made him dizzy and he felt his erection press more urgently against her.

He wanted to save this vision of her stripping off his shirt into permanent, long-term memory.

“Shit, Sarah,” he moaned into her mouth when she let the fabric fall next to her and leaned down to kiss him again.

She smiled, happy to be getting the response she’d been going for. She didn’t want to have sex, but there were other ways she could thank him.

“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” she asked. Even though he hadn’t come close to going down on her, she was willing to let that rule slide for now.

“God, Mouth, please,” he practically begged.

She really was a dream. She’d never gone down on him before. He figured it wasn’t something she really enjoyed. Maybe she was just saving it for a special occasion. He wasn’t entirely certain what made this evening so special, but he’d take it.

Her lips ghosted over his chin and onto his chest as her hands pushed his pajama pants down. He lifted his hips, eager to please. She didn’t push them down all the way - just enough to let his hard cock spring free.

Taking a straight journey to where he wanted her, there was no preamble or teasing before she was wrapping her lips around him, and taking him deep.

Her mouth was hot and soft, her tongue skilled as she traced the vein on the underside, ending with a flick at the base of the sensitive head.

She pulled back and sucked on the tip like some kind of lollipop. A soft snick sounded through the room when she released the suction to start again.

His left thigh began to tremble. A few more seconds and he'd be done for.

“Oh, fuck,” he said as she took him deep again, making his eyes roll back.

This was a dream save for one thing: her hair was braided back. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into the soft tresses. He wound them in the sheets instead.

Hollowing her cheeks, she pulled back to the tip. His guttural groan had a deep sense of satisfaction curling in her belly.

Stroking her tongue over the slit, licking up his salty precome, she smiled when he swore again.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned.

A small whine left his mouth when she pulled off him, but her hand kept moving, pulling his orgasm out all the same.

When he came, she shielded herself with her other hand, managing to catch most of his release before it splattered all over her. She was too tired for another shower.

Leaving him a panting mess, she went to wash up and wipe off the splatter that snuck past her hand.

Once she was back in bed with his shirt back on, Quinn gathered her against him, “that was amazing, thank you.”

She hummed and scooted a little closer.

“What do you want?”

“A good night's sleep,” she murmured.

“You don’t want me to return the favor?” he asked, humor in his voice. One of his hands was making a slow expedition down her stomach.

"No, you can do that," she hummed.

She felt his laugh against her skin, and his fingers snuck under the waistband of his sweats.

The pleasure that swam into her veins was comforting. She felt so contented and supported, spooned up against him as he stroked her sensitive pearl. She reached back to grab his hip as the sparks became more intense.

He was an attentive student, learning the patterns and pressure she liked as if he needed to ace this test to pass the class. Even going so far as to work his knee between hers to give himself a little more room without making her uncomfortable.

“Quinn,” she whispered.

God, the way she said his name made him feel like he could do anything - hike Mt. Everest, take on the whole Eastern conference, fly to the moon. He’d do anything to hear it again.

He began to kiss her neck, switching his fingers to circle clockwise. The sudden change in pattern made her clench down and a whine escaped her throat.

“Are you close?”

“Yes. Put your fingers inside me,” her breathy whisper made his fingers tingle with power and purpose.

He obeyed.

After a few strokes, she adjusted his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed gently against her clit.

Her hips moved with him, and she let out a little moan, “just like that, Quinn.”

She began to pulse around his fingers and she felt him smile against her skin as he worked her though the orgasm.

She slept soundly that night, curled up with Quinn, awed by the once improbable and yet very real prospect she might not have to face anything totally alone again.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fan fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #tw greif #hockey fic #hockey romance

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pleasedontcareaboutme · 20 days ago

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Hello all. For the anniversary today, I decided to do something completely out of my comfort zone. I'll probably spend the rest of the day quietly grieving, but I'm a man of words, I wanted to express my gratitude.

I made a verrry bad guitar/singing cover of [die] on youtube. I hope next time I'll present to you something better. But I'm still proud, for even doing it.

youtube

I also wrote a very personal letter where I express my gratitude. I talk about stuff I've talked about here before, but today, I decided I'll share it with people who know me in real life too. I don't want to be ashamed of my love for Acchan when he completely changed my life.

I'll link the letter here:

I'll probably share the same on the official website, but make it way shorter and less personal.

I'll continue to cry and mourn, but I didn't want to avoid today. It's okay if you do! But this is the way how I cope with the pain.

Nevertheless, I wanted to make today into a day of gratitude besides mourning. Not only to Atsushi, but to all of you.

I'm incredibly thankful that I've joined this community, even if fairly late.

You all helped me so much, and I truly feel grateful to all of you. Thank you for spending sleepless nights with me crying and laughing, thank you for showing you care. Both non-mutuals and mutuals, I'm glad you are still here. 🤍

I hope we all can continue to support the boys, the 5 of them. 🤍

I wish to cherish these moments as long as I can, even with this lingering sadness.

Love you all, please take care of yourselves, rest a lot, and cry if needed. 🤍

#buck tick #atsushi sakurai #hisashi imai #hoshino hidehiko #higuchi yutaka #yagami toll #jrock #guitar #Youtube #I'm scared af to share it irl but I will do it. I will feel better I believe.

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creativeashproductions · 2 years ago

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Hung the Galaxy // Jake Seresin

IN WHICH: Your fiancé's betrayal sets on a course to meeting someone new after fleeing your wedding. Years later you return to LA with a new fiance

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x f!reader, ex!Evan Buckley x ex!reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating/affair (not Jake), reader and Jake have a child but can be read as non-biological child, angst, and fluff

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Hi. I love doing crossovers, so I'll probably do a lot of these.

Masterlist

Los Angeles, California, 2020

The bulky planner that had become a staple on your kitchen island would be retiring to a storage bucket. It had served its purpose and would become a momentum of this big step in your relationship. Wedding planning was stressful when your fiancé was a firefighter.

Your hand glided over the material of your wedding dress. Tailored perfectly to your body and the dream dress when you thought of walking down the aisle. You were incredibly excited to get the dress professionally cleaned and stored away.

You also were excited for the two-week honeymoon Buck had planned to relax after months of intense planning. Buck had been tight-lipped about the honeymoon itinerary other than letting you know it was in Bali. However, he’d gotten discounts after having lived and worked there shortly.

“You’re gonna be gorgeous.” Your eyes lifted from the dress to Athena standing at the entrance. You knew from the beginning you wanted her to be part of getting ready for the day, partially because of how calm and levelheaded she was.

“I hope so.” You murmured, stepping across the room barefoot to hug her tight, “It took a lot of planning. Buck and I didn’t get to spend much time together with him working and all the appointments for planning.”

“At least Taylor’s photographer friend agreed to a discount.” Athena nodded, “Which reminds me, I need to make sure May’s got the Polaroids ready to go.”

You grinned, “I have to meet Taylor with the photographer, and then it’s officially time to begin the process of that dress.”

Taylor Kelly had been the roommate of a friend from college, and when your friend had to drop out unexpectedly, you’d asked Taylor. She’s been a great help in keeping track of everything, and you considered her a close friend; she’d joined game nights with Buck, Albert and Josh. She was a good friend and support to both Buck and you. Had even been your shoulder to cry on when communication had suffered in your relationship with Buck. Had offered sage advice.

The sound of the wedding march you hummed brought a smirk to your lips on the trip to the meeting room. Finally, you had time before your aunt and uncle arrived from San Diego for the wedding. Beau had juggled work around at the naval base to make it in time to walk you down the aisle. Not that they would miss this for the world with how deeply involved they were in your life.

“-married Buck. She’s my friend!” Taylor’s voice snapped through the crack of the door. Your hand hesitated in pushing it, “I can’t believe we’ve done this.”

“We’ve been-“

“Having communication problems? I’m aware of that, Buckley. I’m a bridesmaid in your fucking wedding. Sure, we haven’t slept together, but arguably we’ve done worse!”

“It’s not an affair.” Buck was firm in his response, and you could just imagine the crinkle in the skin between his eyebrows as he said that.

“Look up an emotional affair.”

It was silent for a moment other than the sound of Buck tapping away on his phone, “Okay, well, we’ll just stop or take time away to get over- “

Your heart shattered because even in the face of his wrongdoing Buck still wanted her in his life long-term. Your mind slingshot through the last year with how distant he had gotten and how Taylor behaved when you brought him up. She sidestepped the conversation when it came to her love life.

“That’s the thing, Buck. I don’t want to. I don’t want you waiting at the end of the aisle, and maybe that makes me the biggest bitch.”

You didn’t comprehend shoving the door open to reveal the two of them standing so close together, “Absolutely hilarious. The groom is being seduced by the bridesmaid! Tell her she’s delusional. That you wouldn’t waste thousands of dollars and peoples time for a selfish bitch looking to stomp on anyone for a news story.”

Your eyes focused on your fiancé. His blue eyes struggle to stay on your form.

“I can’t.” Buck quietly responded, shrinking in on himself, “I love her too.”

In the crisp morning air flowing in from the open French doors your heart audibly and cruelly shattered. Your soul shrivelled up, and you stumbled back, unable to look away from the wreckage of your relationship. Sure, Buck had always been immature and cowardly indecisive, but a cheater? You’d never expected that.

It took everything in you to tug the ring from your finger, “Fine. But you can march out to the room full of guests and tell them the wedding is off. That you decided that the redhead skank that took advantage of the 118 for a story is the reason you threw away a life with someone you love.”

You could read devastation in his eyes, but at the core of it, Evan Buckley, staunchly and often at the risk of self-destruction, yearned for respect and acceptance. And who was firmly in the centre of that? Bobby Nash.

“Bobby is going to be disgusted by your actions. And thank god we used your credit card, and everything is non-refundable.” You sweetly told your very much now ex-fiancé and turned to the bitch, “You seemed like such a pretty and smart woman Taylor, but your mind does not seem to work well. Must be lonely being the type of person you are to make games of destroying relationships.”

You had even fully turned on your feel when your eyes caught the group of surprised people just outside the French doors. Your lips quirked, noticing Hen and Karen’s son had been very obviously recording the scene.

“Enjoy the food and the open door on Buck and Taylor! But, unfortunately, I have a wedding dress to burn and an emergency appointment for STD testing.”

You strode through the crowd finding Athena holding up the duffle bag of your things, “I thought it was best I grab this and keep Buckley from attempting to stop you.”

“Thank you, Athena.” You murmured, squeezing her arm on your way to where your Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Beau were waiting. You heard the whispers of people as Buck attempted to move through the crowd.

The wall of firefighters kept him from making it to the car pulling from the curb. The moment the car turned the corner, the strong front you’d had splintered in the arms of your aunt.

San Diego, California, Present Day

You hadn’t stepped in Los Angeles since the day your life fell apart, all thanks to a two-faced bitch and weak fiancé. You cut off contact with the friends you’d made with Buck and build a new life. You had changed your phone number, blocked Buck on everything and removed a lot of people from your social media.

You knew through the grapevine the short-lived relationship with Taylor had ended. May had mentioned roughly the last time you spoke to her a year ago that Taylor had reported on a story Buck had confided her on.

Your response to her was indifferent to the breakup news, and you only asked if Hen and Chim were okay. You refused to answer any personal questions and hesitantly agreed to consider having May visit during the summer.

You had worked hard with a therapist to navigate grieving for the life you had thought you’d have with Buck. You’d slowly put yourself back with the support of your family. And what you attested to be kismet stumbled into someone a year after settling into Miramar.

You huffed, stumbling into a solid form and scrunched your eyes closed, waiting to hit the deck, but it didn’t come. Cautiously your eyes opened to meet the jade-green ones of a lieutenant aviator going off from the gold wings pinned to his shirt.

“Whoa. Sorry there.” The husky voice caused the breath to catch in the back of your throat. You could hear the subtle but unmistakable drawl of a Southern accent.

“It’s okay.” You softly murmured, releasing your grip on his arms when he levelled you back on your feet, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Jake.” The stranger offered both his name and hand. His grip was firm but not suffocating as he shook your hand, “Can I help you?”

“My uncle Beau forgot his phone at home. So I was sent with it. I was barely walking the last time I was here.”

It took a while for Jake to wear both you and Beau down to take you out on a date, and the rest is what they call history. He was everything you wanted and weren’t looking for. His emotional maturity was astounding, and his firm expectancy of honesty and talking things through was welcomed.

Honestly, it was the healthiest relationship you’d ever been in.

So it wasn’t a surprise when a year later, you’d gotten engaged and moved in together. Being with Jake was easy, and it wasn’t just because of how steady and solid he was, like the Allegheny River you visited not that long ago. You adored everything about him. From the old hand-me-down Bible, his grandpa gave him the day he got the Naval Academy acceptance letter to his weekly phone call with his parents.

You were ever grateful for how supportive Jake was when he cleared his schedule to join you in LA when Eddie invited you. Usually, you would have said no to your old friend, but he’d gotten crafty by having Chris ask you.

“You got this,” Jake murmured against your temple. Then, like it was second nature, you guided Jake around the house’s side to the backyard’s open gate.

The entire area was flooded with friends and family of the Diaz duo. You could see every one of the 118 and felt more than saw Chris slam into you.

“You’re here!” Chris beamed as you pushed one of his curls off his forehead, “I didn’t think you’d come!”

“And miss watching your dad’s existential crisis at you becoming a teenager? Never.” You joked, kissing his head, “Chris, I’d like you to meet Jake and Ellie.”

Chris’s inquisitive eyes moved to the tall stranger standing with one hand on your lower back and the infant cradled on his chest. Chris had a feeling that Buck’s plan would burst into flames with how close you and this Jake guy were standing.

“Oh,” Chris murmured, looking over his shoulder to where Buck was chatting with Maddie and Chim.

Your smile softened at the blue tone, “I know it’s weird that I left LA after being with Buck and came back with someone new. I get that and take all the time you need, but you are still important to me, Christopher.”

Athena quickly snagged you from Jake’s side and dragged you to Hen and Karen beaming at you. Jake had already fallen into a conversation with Eddie about everything to do with Texas. You had a feeling football would be brought up.

“I’d ask who he is, but I feel he’s not just a friend.” Buck had taken the first opportunity to approach you. You’d volunteered to get more napkins from the kitchen, and Buck had used a flimsy excuse.

“Hello, Evan.” You declared from behind the open cabinet door to the cupboard above the stove. Your eyes caught the blue napkins of Chris’ favourite show at the moment.

“How’re you?”

You leaned back from the coverage of the cabinet to stare at him, stumped at his sudden question.

“Are you expecting me to burst out in song and dance to confess some sort of undying love for you?” You inquired, looking between his blue irises that made you uncomfortable with their evident love, “Because Buck. I don’t love you. I don’t even hate you, to be honest. I’ve moved past what happened.”

Buck couldn’t help but perk up when you admitted to not hating him like he had anticipated. He glossed over the part of your words, saying you didn’t have feelings for him because that tiny little hope fanned.

“If I had to put a name to what I feel when the odd time you’re brought up, it would be indifference. I have more important things now.” You informed your ex-fiancé with a perfectly timed movement to close the cabinet. It revealed the new ring sitting where the one he gave you used to sit.

Buck’s stomach dropped.

“Sweets?” Jake called as he entered the room. He barely gave Buck a glance because what did it matter? Jake had no reason to feel threatened by him, “Ellie-belly here is down for the count. We should head for the hotel and rest before we fly out.”

“My sweet girl.” You cooed leaning into the baby cradled on Jake’s hip to kiss her chubby cheek, “We’ll say our rounds and give Chris his present.”

You shot Buck a smile on your way back out to Eddie’s backyard to find the birthday boy in the mass. Jake split off back to Eddie while you made the rounds to the people you used to see almost every day. Your eyes fluttered back to him, listening to Eddie and cooing at your daughter.

“You look happy, Kid,” Bobby spoke upon joining Athena. His words brought your attention back to him, “You look at him like he hung the moon. And he looks like you did the same for him.”

Your lips quirked, “You say he hung the moon, but Bobby, I’d say he hung the galaxy.”

“I couldn’t help but notice the bling.” Karen grinned, gesturing to the ring on your finger, “When did that happen?”

“A little over a year ago. We were in the middle of planning when Ellie came around, so we’re having a small wedding in Jake’s hometown. We fly out from LAX tomorrow. So you should all come down to San Diego for the party our friends are throwing us.”

With a hug from Athena and Bobby and a long one with Chris, you leaned against the car door as Jake carefully juggled your daughter into her car seat. It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was perfect.

Tag List:

@websterss

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x female reader #top gun imagines #911 imagines #caitsy and ash productions

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louroth · 1 year ago

Text

Hello everyone :>

It's been a month! it's incredible how much my life has changed- while I'm still adjusting I'm just...still walking on clouds. it feels unreal. the patreon took off and I can almost make a living wage on it which is frankly fucking insane, and the discord is so vibrant it scared me for a moment (not anymore- shooting the shit with the people there is the favorite part of my day, even if I sometimes just leave a trail of emotes lskjdhajksdhkjasd.) I couldn't have asked for a better community. YES I am crying about it. Thank you, so, so much. I am cradling your face in my hands. crying.

But as always, enough of my bleeding heart. Let's get to it!

The first two weeks after posting the update, I took a sort of quasi vacation and only wrote a handful of story-words each day, and spent some time fooling around in the discord + brushed off my smut archive to refine for Patreon. There are already 4 stories up, and a new one coming tomorrow- though I haven't decided yet whether it will be possessive/jealous L sfw short or one very nasty short where you come across a particularly insistent species of vines while trekking the forest. hehe. we'll see. >:3

But, even though I had to rest not to combust after work, I am very pleased to say that the next chapter is coming along great, with the skeleton finished for its entirety, and about 45% and some change already written (it's very hard to gauge because I jump around a lot when I write.) This is the final chapter before the forest, filled with action and the heart wrenching drama of offering tenderness to a certain someone, and deciding for your hunter when enough is truly enough. I have teared up writing certain scenes and I genuinely cannot wait for you to experience this next part yourselves.

It is so funny reading things I wrote for this chapter six months ago, or longer, because I knew exactly what emotions I wanted to bake in and couldn't really nail it, but now it is coming together beautifully! Sure, it will still be wonky first draft writing, but the core is there and that is all that matters for now. I'm saying soon™ for the update for now, because I am allowing myself to adapt to writing full time- I didn't quit my job to become my own nightmare boss, and I truly want to enjoy this process. I think, in the long run, it will result in a better story. Patience is my mantra. All in due time- I cannot force quality creative work. But by everything wretched and sinful, I cannot wait to share this next part with you!!! I'm frothing at the mouth!!!

In other news, y'all. I need to get organized. I get heartburn thinking about all the different variations of files and notes and notebooks and scraps of paper and variables and branches of plot and just generally, the things to keep track of is getting to the point of a dragon hoard of scary 'oh no I forgot about that part'. I'm gritting my teeth through it until this chapter is out, but after it, I am going to spend some time to

1) get my shit together in gorgeous, beautiful spreadsheets

2) get serious about finding beta- and proofreaders. (me @ u: 🥺)

But that's it, my friends! I scrapped an entire progress report because I started sounded corporate and listing points which was just... sad. I really hope I evolve into writing these in a more fun way, which would make them more fun for you to read too! But for now, I think this will do. I hope you have a beautiful day/night, and if you would like to see more in depth dev-logs of my writing life, or random sneak peeks, I post those weekly on patreon!

Or join our discord, which. It's just the nicest place, I can't even come up with words that do it justice. It's my favorite daily newspaper.

Until next time! x

#OUROBOROS #ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #dev log #progress report #im scuttling off to finish character moodboards now like a gremlin #i am wholly soaked and immersed in the world of ouro and that just feels... so nice. I never want to leave #on asks: sorry they have taken low priority while I adapt to everything happening. I read every single one and smile and laugh and ponder #but when it comes to actually answering my words just stop working. its a soup up there #send thots and prayers 😔#(or come join the discord where I answer questions with gusto on the daily)

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maybeimamuppet · 4 months ago

Note

Do you believe Regina is redeemable?

ohhhhh buddy the whole can of worms this opened

to make a long story short: yes.

to make a long story longer with a tw for mentioned child abuse/neglect and suicidal ideation

i think every iteration of her deserves a shot at redemption.

canonically regina is at most seventeen years old. yes, she’s almost an adult. yes, she does and has done despicable things at this age and even younger. but she is still young. she is still a child. to completely, black and white say, that she is at her core an unredeemable monster who doesn’t even deserve to try does a complete and utter disservice both to her and the people she’s hurt in her past. to say she will be the way she is forever negates all the suffering she goes through and puts others through in canon, misguided though it is.

regina is also basically the textbook for a personality disorder and specifically bpd. borderline is (in a lot of cases i’ll say rightfully) very harshly judged. there’s a lot of stigma around it and cluster b disorders as a whole. but bpd is also caused for the most part by neglect and abuse in childhood. we only ever see regina’s dad in 2004 canon, for a single scene, crying over regina wearing the rabbit halloween costume. he’s completely absent in both the stage show and 2024. and looking at her mom, it is very obvious something has happened to the both of them and that this child (or neither of these children if you include kylie from 2004) is/are not getting the emotional guidance, support, and attention they need. who knows what happened before canon as well. who knows what her dad was like.

speaking as someone who also probably has bpd (which i discovered through doing research to write her better) i can say it is a terrifying experience. i’m lucky in that i’m able to resist my compulsions most of the time, but having them at all is beyond terrifying sometimes. i am filled with rage on a hair trigger these days. sometimes i’m able to process this anger in a healthy way. i can rationalize. i can think through it. i can calm myself down.

other times i can’t. i can only glance through the mean girls tag on ao3 now because if i look at numbers or think for too long about it, i compare the new fics that have come with the 2024 movie to things i’ve written. to see these fics that, while fantastic, are much shorter or don’t have as much effort put into them as what i do get literally ten times the love does hurt, as much as i adore and appreciate what i do get.

by nature with my other illnesses i have to pour my entire heart and soul, blood sweat and tears into every word i put on a page. every fic i’ve done is a piece of me that sometimes feels like i’ve torn it out of myself and given you to read. sometimes seeing that get 150 hits compared to a cadina fic that’s half as long (but again, still amazing! they all deserve every hit and kudos and comment and whatever) getting up to 1, 10, 50k hits just latches to a particularly sadistic part of my brain and it’s all i can think about for weeks. and it makes me want to quit. either writing or living.

and that sounds dramatic because IT IS. and i’m fully aware having those thoughts and urges is irrational. i don’t want them. i miss feeling like i have a community on ao3 (i absolutely have one here and i love all of you in my little circle with my entire being.) i hate having to avoid reading about my favorite characters because it does that much damage to my mental health. i am afraid that it takes something that small for me to have these massive thoughts.

all of that to say is that bpd makes switches easier to flip. it makes bad choices easier to make.

the reason i’m still here. the reason i still write and i haven’t deleted everything i’ve ever done. the reason i haven’t done a number of other things that i won’t say because they aren’t really relevant. is because i have chosen not to. it is incredibly hard sometimes. but it is still a choice you have to consciously make. you have to consciously decide to hurt someone. you have to consciously decide to say things. you have to consciously decide to humiliate your best friend in front of countless other people.

regina did make those choices.

and for that she does deserve consequences. she deserves repercussions and she deserves flack. she does not deserve to get hit by a bus (except for it being the catalyst to help her realize she needs to change) or being force fed to reach her biggest insecurity and fear without her knowledge.

she made the earliest choice when she was either eleven or twelve years old, that we know of.

that is a child.

regina is a child who is clearly suffering in some way we don’t see. she absolutely should be held accountable for what she does and what she has done. but she also deserves to be allowed to apologize and try to make amends. she deserves to be allowed the opportunity for growth and to heal and to become a functional adult who is capable of meaningful relationships and success. she deserves to be allowed to try.

does she deserve immediate or any forgiveness? no. the people around her also deserve the ability to make the choices with her that they will. she has caused harm, people are allowed to process the harm she has put upon them however they will.

but she deserves the opportunity to make it a choice for them.

she deserves a chance at redemption.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #kinda got away from me there sorry lol #not the direction i was planning to go but whatever #anyway thank you for the ask dear friend!!!#much obliged ♡︎#regina george #mean girls

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