#spring is a real tough time for me

[mossandfern]

March 10th: Exhausted: is there ever a day otherwise.

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[void-botanist]

Okay I wanna ask you Blorbo wrapped questions back lmao. I'm also curious about who you thought was coolest, who you rotated in your head the most and who was most fun to write. But also, did you have anyone that was kinda driving you up a wall but then something clicked and you really figured out how to write them? If not, who's still driving you up a wall?

Kendrick! I think you saw that I got too excited and answered my own questions over here but who has been driving me up a wall is an excellent question, lol. There are a few who aren't actively driving me up a wall (what's up with Aza huh) but the people who I still haven't got a hold on are Declan, Horatio, and Sid.

I'm almost hesitant to say Declan because I don't think I have a hard time writing him but I also feel like I haven't fully keyed into the fact that he's an autism creature of a man (and also making it clear that the way the rest of the crew does things behind his back is not them infantilizing him because of it but more complicated than that. They do think he's fragile but that's because of how he's handled his grief). Also like. He literally trusts his crew with his life. But he is so so bad at talking to them and I haven't totally figured out how that all works out.

Oops this got long so here's a cut

Horatio got a character lift in this version. He's always been a sweetheart but that evolved out of him having A Sense Of Justice while also being generally pathetic and wet and soft. Now he has the Standing family deviousness that goes along with it and I don't know how to write that. Because also he looks completely different to Sid, who knows him very well and who he's open with, than he does to Avis, who hates him somewhat for the circumstances of his birth (she tries not to because it's not his fault) but extremely much for being sun-coded in the "cheerful" and "unavoidable and intense" ways. So like, what is he plotting (especially about getting Sorian and Avis back together) and how is he plotting it and how does this dovetail with the happy-go-lucky florist which is equally as much who he is?

Sid on the other hand is challenging in the sense that writing him feels fine. He's a real everyman if you will. Except I don't get his character and I think that's a major stumbling block for AOM as a whole. Yeah, on some level he has to be the sad traumatized guy but like. How does he handle his parents trying to run his life once he takes a massive step outside of their frame of reference? How does this work with Avis's story? (Can I successfully shove these two stories into one thing that is a whole? They have so many themes in common help) In his earliest iterations he was the devil-may-care I'm-doing-my-best guy who mildly tormented Horatio Sense Of Justice and I guess they've sort of flipped? Except Sid is always the Doing My Best guy.

Also when it comes to Anni and Zel, Anni is so easy to write with all the technical stuff and much more challenging with the romance stuff and I don't want it to be that way aaaaaaa

As for who did click, I think I'm getting there with Patience (even though I haven't worked on TFA in a while), Rodney worked better when I just let him be soft, working out Fay's whole divorce history helped make her easier to write (she's not pretending to be the good suburban mom. she just is sometimes and other times she sucks), the fact that Wylie hates himself cracked his whole character wide open, and lately I've realized that a critical part of post-divorce Sorian is that he's tired. He's tired of Avis needling him, always being there but never being there for him. He's not even sure he deserves for her to be. But he kinda wishes she would just leave and move on so he can too.

[if-you-soul]

Mischaracterization in the CCCC fandom: a yapsesh (alternative title: Erm... What the Gore is Going On?)

Hi. Woaw. I'm actually making that post I talked about.

So. One thing I've noticed in the CCCC fandom is this weird fixation on gore, torture, violence, etc. Usually a level of graphic content that makes your average horror flick look... pretty tame!

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy horror! I even think a horror story based around psychological conflict similar to CCCC could work well!

But is it just me, or has this fandom COMPLETELY lost track of what the characters are like in the source material?

Like. Let's be real. Nowhere in the album does Soul do gruesome surgeries on Mind, nowhere does Mind go ripping people to shreds like Doomguy, et cetera. The closest thing we have to an implication of violence is what most of us call the "Juno incident"- as even "tines stabbed through eyes" is clearly a metaphor with the next line: "that the sides have condemned."

Im gonna talk ab the characters themselves under the cut

I feel the biggest victim of this mischaracterization is Soul. In the album he's... kind of a victim, really. He toughs out being dismissed and fought over and pushed aside and outright dehumanized for so, so long. Are we seriously just... going to characterize him based solely on his lowest point in TSE? Spring and a Storm and Mucka Blucka are also songs where he's present- along with his presence in Just Apathy that the fandom seems to outright deny to keep their characterization of him as some violent, abusive monster. (Which, again, is quite literally never alluded to! He's honestly kind of a victim, if anything!)

Ohhkay. Next topic. Mind. Oh boy I have thoughts on how people characterize Mind.

He's not emotionless. If you believe this, you've fallen for his stoic facade. All of his songs are just. So full of so much rage. Maybe even a little bit of grief and sadness and fear, masked by said rage. He isn't some emotionless robot- (Heart calls him an automaton as an insult, but that's another rant.) and honestly it feels like such a disservice to such an interesting character with so much unexplored depth to portray him as such.

Heart. Oh boy. Where do I start. Heart what did they do to you.

Heart is the emotional side, yes, but that isn't just some... smol innocent uwu baby who cries all the time. Emotions aren't small and cute and timid. They're INTENSE and PASSIONATE and EXHAUSTING. Strong emotions leave you so, so drained, good OR bad. This is so much more interesting than portraying him as some "uwu hai dere!!" type of character. Which is nowhere in the album.

Whole is hardly even a character. Soul worshipping and praying to whole is fanon.

This fandom's weird obsession with creating shock gore and one-upping each other in a violence competition has spiraled pretty far out of control, and it's honestly crazy. How do you go from an album about internal conflict to violence that would make even the cast of Resident Evil cringe? Brah.

Final notes uhhh. Soul is a victim who got pushed to his limit, not an evil heartless abuser. Mind is angry and unstable and hurt, not some emotionless robot. Heart is the entire emotional spectrum, not some innocent baby. Ok i . I think that's all. Have a good one

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Spinning the Block Part 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+, Suicide Mentioned, Smut.

Summary: Terry returns to Shelby Springs to find Jess.

Word count: 4.2K

"I keep my head up high

I cross my heart and hope to die

Lovin' me is complicated

Too afraid of a lot of changes

I'm alright and you're a favorite

Dark nights in my prayers"

Kendrik Lamar – "Alright"

The dust had finally settled.

Terry sat in a Shelby Springs coffee shop and mulled over the whirlwind two years he'd lived through. His high-profile case against the Shelby Springs Police Department ended in his favor. The case didn't drag out for years, probably because the video proof of misconduct was irrefutable. The combination of systemic corruption, civil rights violations, departmental liability, and lack of community trust in the leadership helped the jury make a quick decision. Summer and Marston's testimony did significant damage, but it was Jess Sims' presence that rattled him. Whatever ambivalence he felt about her part in knowing what that corrupt police department was doing, Jess's community rallied behind her. They set up online support to encourage people to donate money for her lawyer's defense fund and to help support her financially while temporarily suspended without pay. There were online testimonials from citizens vouching for her character. Even former criminals who had run-ins with the police posted TikTok clips of how Jess checked up on them to make sure they stayed on the straight and narrow after interactions with her as their arresting officer.

"Officer Sims didn't play. She talked to me like one of my aunties and that made me feel real bad, y'know, like I let down somebody in my family for being a fuckup. Sims told me to get my shit together. She even went to my grandmama's house to see if I signed up for night school like I said I would. My grandmama and my mama didn't even know how bad I was doing. I was pissed at first, cuz I felt like she needed to mind her business. Feel me? But yeah…I got my G.E.D. and I'm working a steady gig now. When I seen all that bullshit go down with homeboy and his cousin…I believed them cops did that shit. But I wouldn't yoke her up with them other fuckers. Ain't no good cops really outchea, but she made me think there might be some tryin' to do right by people."

The comments to that particular TikTok blew up and people argued among themselves about Jess's choice to be a cop, knowing that one Black woman among a squad of white boys didn't make her appear capable of fighting systemic racism. She was called everything from a white man's bedwench for knocking niggas around to the best type of law enforcement needed…someone connected to her community who put their needs first by protecting them from the white cops.

None of her community accolades or dedication to the force appeased other cops who painted her as a traitor to the blue line. She withstood online hate and ferocious public scrutiny. That had to be tough on her. Meanwhile, the public framed Terry and his cousin as victims of police brutality. His Aunt Rosa received nearly one million in GoFundMe donations. It covered burial expenses and the cost of a heavy-hitter lawyer to take on their wrongful death suit against the prison that was negligent in protecting Mike. The lawsuit would take some time, but all the media attention shed light on the case. He hoped his aunt would get swift justice.

As for Terry, he received a multi-million dollar settlement.

He cried when the judgment was read to him out loud in court. His lawyer cried with him because it meant that the world knew he was innocent and the cops were indeed callous bastards. No legal analyst expected the police department to appeal. Chief Sandy Burnne acted belligerent on the stand and justified his actions as a way to keep the town afloat because of budget constraints. He clammed up when Terry's lawyer brought up his previous wrongful death suit as the true cause of the department's financial crisis. He would more than likely die in prison with the long stretch he faced in the criminal case against him. The suicide of the corrupt Judge Logston who helped hide the truth nailed it shut in many minds. Why take yourself out if you're innocent?

The departments's insurance would pay it quickly and quietly. The city council of Shelby Springs wanted their town's name and tarnished reputation out of the media.

The judge approved the settlement, and the case was officially closed after eighteen months.

Sitting in the coffee shop stirring sugar into his espresso, the idea of being a wealthy man didn't faze him. Getting the truth out mattered most. It didn't surprise him that others who went through the terror tactics of the cops didn't come forward or even want to join a class action lawsuit. They had to live in that town or near it among family members of the cops that crossed several parishes. The trauma ran deep for some, and they wanted to forget about the money or assets stolen from them. Terry had nothing to lose. No wife or kids. No steady girlfriend. No job. No fear. He was a lone wolf with nothing but time on his hands to go up against a beast of a system.

Still, he couldn't keep Jess Sims taking the stand out of his mind. She wore a simple beige top with a tan blazer and brown slacks. She had puffed out her hair in a halo of fluffy curls, pulled back by a hair clip on one side. The light make-up on her face showed him what a stunner she was out of uniform. When his lawyer made a little joke to help Jess relax, he noticed she had a dimple in her right cheek when she smiled. Their eyes met briefly before she was grilled about her role in the case.

Certain things were made clear. Chief Burnne kept Jess in the office for the majority of her work shifts. Misdemeanor cases were in abundance in Shelby Springs, and most people didn't question it because of the war on drugs and whatever made-up war they used to explain away why so many victims were called by their incarcerated loved ones to bring large sums of purposely inflated bail money in cash. Officer Lann and Officer Marston, along with two other officers Burnne used, were the primary culprits who arrested people. Judge Logston notified the police chief when a new bundle of cash was expected to come through in an attempt to bail out a loved one.

Burnne knew Jess was a straight-shooter and good at computers, so he kept her mainly indoors for the past two years as their department struggled with budget cuts. She also cared for her ailing grandfather at home, so her schedule remained fixed to gift her flexibility to run home for emergencies when the day nurse she paid for had issues. Each date that his lawyer brought up pertaining to a civil asset seizure, she could show in her personal daily planner that she worked in the office that day. Her patrol days were usually on Saturdays when her sister-in-law stayed with her grandfather.

Terry watched the dawning realization on Jess's face as she understood how Burnne had manipulated her and kept her away from a lot of actions she would most likely object to. The chief stayed considerate of her home situation only because it was the best way to keep her and a few other goody-two shoes cops in the dark as much as possible.

In the beginning of her testimony, Jess answered confidently and spoke highly of her former boss in terms of how he treated her. Burnne played on her need to clean up the streets and indoctrinated her with the mindset that they were under siege by nefarious cartels and drug dealers. No one could be trusted. Their actual legitimate drug busts cemented in Jess's mind that Burnne knew what was best, and she moved his way. Terry's lawyer baited her into speaking of her moral compass and pushed her to explain why she had held a gun on Terry when he thought she was Serpico.

"Until that point, I had no cause to believe that Chief Burnne acted unlawfully," Jess said.

His lawyer, a white man with the mind of a steel trap, stared at her hard before speaking again.

"Terry Richmond, who had done nothing but de-escalate every situation he faced with your fellow officers…you included…he hands you SD cards and asks you to broadcast them for the world to see after he thinks he'll be arrested or killed by your department… and that doesn't give you pause Miss Sims that maybe something is rotten in Denmark…or even a little fishy?"

Jess glanced at him, and he tried to give her an encouraging look to tell her truth. Her eyes watered.

"I wasn't sure what to believe. Things were happening so fast and I didn't want him to hurt the Chief or me."

"Miss Sims, you told us earlier that Mr. Richmond remained calm at all times, always explaining what he was going to do, and even conveyed to you that he wanted to avoid gunfire and violence. Why didn't you at least stop to look at the footage?"

Jess held her head high and kept her tears from falling.

"I wanted to trust Chief Burnne—"

"But you just stated that you weren't sure what to believe."

"That's because I didn't want to make a mistake and get my fellow officers or Mr. Richmond killed because of doubt. I kept thinking things could be sorted out later, as long as no one got hurt."

"That's the thinking of a good cop. We know you're good, Miss Sims, because we saw video of you stopping Officer McGill from shooting Mr. Richmond in cold blood. Mr. Richmond also testified that he thanked you for protecting him from men who wanted to… and I quote, "string me up". You also stopped Chief Sandy Burnne from obstructing justice by pushing him off the road and arresting him. The problem I'm having, though, is why you waited so long to stop Burnne once he shot Officer Marston…"

Jess's voice sounded unsure later in her testimony. It appeared that she questioned her own actions as she recalled them. She gave the impression that she was willing to support bad actors and questionable conduct as long as the end result she wanted came about. To Terry, she sounded no different from the Black soldiers he worked with in the marines who were gungho about fighting bad guys overseas, even if a few innocent civilians in other countries got crushed. Collateral damage.

Terry sipped his drink and contemplated the busy street outside. Such a sleepy-looking town. The type of place people put on postcards. A white woman strolled past, walking a small black and white dog with a young girl. She double-backed a few seconds later with her mouth held open. He grinned and gulped down the last of his espresso before leaving the coffee shop and joining the woman outside.

"Terry Richmond…I swear as I live and breathe!"

Summer McBride hugged Terry, and he lifted her up, returning the affection.

"You look amazing," she gushed.

"You look good too."

"Oh, please," she said.

She ran a hand over her thin blond hair that was about two inches longer than the last time he saw her.

"This is my daughter Annie…Annie this is Mr. Richmond, the man who saved me."

Summer's daughter had her mother's lanky blonde hair and a thin build. She looked to be about nine years old.

"Hi Annie," he said.

Annie acted shy and stayed close to her mother as she held the leash of the passive dog.

"Hi," Annie said.

"When did you get here…and why did you come back?" Summer said.

"Got here last night, and I came to check on some people in person. You and your daughter…and someone else."

"Marston?"

"No…Jess Sims."

Summer stared at him for a long time.

"Why Jess?"

Terry crouched down to play with Summer's dog. The puppy willingly went to him, and he glanced across the street, keeping an eye out for Jess. A Black café owner on the corner informed him earlier, after he ate an early breakfast, that Jess and her friends often had brunch there every Wednesday at one. He hung around the coffee shop to do some reconnaissance, looking for her. He tried contacting her through his lawyer, but she changed her phone number. His plan was to see her…try to talk to her. He had a burning desire to sort his feelings about everything with her. After the court case, he was compelled to let her know that he was never going to hold hard feelings against her. The vitriol she received from the outside world was enough. He needed her to know that he wanted her to keep living without guilt. All the others could go to hell, especially Marston, who started the whole ball running by ramming his cruiser into him.

But Jess?

He wanted her to have grace. The look of regret and shame on her face at Mike's repast made it possible for him to forgive her part in the whole affair. It was brave for her to show up at his aunt's house, knowing she'd be the target of scorn and the rage of a family who shouldn't be mourning Mike.

When he glimpsed her face back in Greenwood, he couldn't believe it. He almost didn't recognize her. She'd stayed on his mind for days. His cousin flipped the fuck out on her, and Terry chased Jess down the street. She looked so vulnerable and broken. Scared. He wanted to hug her, even though his cousin had every right to curse her out. That was her baby brother shanked to death. Her only brother.

He looked up at Summer. Why Jess?

"I need closure with her. She saved me two times…three, actually. Saved you."

"She was only saving her ass."

"Like your friend, Marston?"

Summer looked away. Her body language and tone told him more than she realized. She and Jess had history of some kind.

"You know her?"

"Yeah. We were friends at one time."

"What happened?"

"That's personal."

"I have a lot of time available to listen."

"Over dinner?"

He grinned. Summer gave him a coy smile. He sensed some flirtation, but he wouldn't feed it. She was strictly for the friend zone.

"Pick the restaurant. My treat," he said.

"No, my treat at my place. It might be better if we aren't seen eating out together since…you know…the case has been settled. I make a mean casserole and I can fill you in on my case against Officer Lann."

"When?"

"Let's do tomorrow night. Annie goes back to her dad's and we can have some privacy. My number is the same."

"Okay. Sounds like a plan."

Terry noticed a Dodge Durango pull into a parking spot across the street. Seven Black women piled out and Jess was the last to exit from the driver's side. He inhaled through his mouth quickly, seeing her with her people. She smiled and checked her cell phone, pulling out a pair of glasses. Her black and silver off-the-shoulder halter top accentuated all that she had up front and her short jean skirt gave him an eyeful of big legs and thick thighs. The heels of her black open-toe half boots helped stream-line her profile. She was all huggable curves and wide hips. Big hoop earrings dangled to her shoulders and her laughter drifted across the street, making music in his ears. Goddamn. Nothing made Terry weaker than a short, big-breasted woman who wore glasses.

"Well, there she is," Summer grumbled.

Her voice sounded irritated. She took the leash from Annie.

"See you tomorrow night," Summer said.

Jess glanced their way and froze.

"Good luck," Summer said, walking off with her daughter and dog.

Terry looked over at Jess again. Her party of women entered the café laughing and talking loud, but she stood near her car with a concerned expression. He smoothed his blue sweater down to make sure he was presentable and crossed the street after a car rolled past.

"I've been trying to contact you. You changed your number," he said.

Terry tried to sound upbeat to help ease her apprehension.

"Changed it a year ago," she said in a crisp and cautious tone.

Jess's central Louisiana accent had him feeling bashful in front of her. Things were so different when she wasn't in uniform. This was a bona fide southern baddie in front of him. He didn't want to lose all his cool in front of her, however, it would've been so easy to take one step and place a hand on her car's roof, hem her up against the driver's door and talk that talk to her like he was trying to pull her in his orbit. She had to be feeling him because her eyes dropped to his chest, admiring the wide expanse of it.

"I see you're about to have a meal with your people, so I won't take up too much of your time…I just needed to see you, Jess. Can we meet up for another time to talk openly?"

"I don't know why you'd want to. Last time you saw me, I caused a scene at your cousin's house."

"That was a tough day, and my entire family stayed on edge. I'm sorry about your passenger window. Can I take you out to eat later in the week? Friday maybe? Or we could take a long drive into the country, get away for a chance to connect…talk?"

"I have a church function on Friday."

"Saturday."

"Busy. Terry, I don't feel comfortable—"

"Okay, okay. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for keeping me alive."

Jess chewed her lip, and her left leg shook. She averted his direct gaze, and he so wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be fine. But he didn't know that for sure, at least not for her. He dug for his wallet in his back pocket and pulled out a card from the motel he stayed at.

"I'm in room 5B. Please call if you change your mind. I'm going to stay here for a few more days. If I don't hear from you, I'm going to leave town."

"You should leave now. There's nothing for you here except a horrible memory."

Jess started wiping at her eyes as tiny teardrops fell down her plump cheeks. He moved in close and hugged her, letting her nervous trembles get absorbed by his warm strength.

"I'm not here to upset you or make you feel bad, Jess…I care about what's going on in your life. We both went through something traumatic that changed us. I know you're having a hard time here."

She wept onto the top of his chest. He rubbed her back to soothe her. The way she rested against his solid frame felt right.

"Jess? Everything okay?"

One of her girlfriends stepped out from the café, looking for her. Terry didn't want to stop holding Jess. All that softness molded against his hard muscles reminded him of how long he'd been without the regular comforts of a woman. He'd had a few hook-ups throughout the trial, but none of the women he spent intimate time with felt like the woman in his arms. Her lushness and the way she clung to him aroused a yearning to be alone with her. But only when she was ready.

He stepped away from her and stroked her shoulders.

"I won't pressure you. If you don't call me, I'll understand why and won't bother you again."

She nodded and walked away from him quickly. Her friend, another heavyset woman with long straight hair, threw an arm around Jess's shoulder and escorted her inside the café.

That didn't go so well.

Terry took a long walk around the town square to clear his head. He didn't want to make her cry, although he knew in his heart that speaking with her could turn emotional. Now that he'd approached her, he wasn't so sure if talking with her would do either of them any good. He was already feeling the heaviness in his chest from listening to her sob. Did she think he just wanted to punish her with his words? Give her a verbal tongue lashing to rid himself of the burden of Mike's death? Lay it at her feet so she would suffer for as long as his family did?

Truthfully, he didn't know what to do. He'd been languishing in a holding pattern for two years since Mike's murder. The lump sum of his multi-million dollar payout gave him financial freedom to go anywhere. All he did was buy a brand new silver-blue Dodge Ram truck with a pop-up camper and drove straight to Shelby Springs to find Jess. The previous night, he slept out in the woods inside his pop-up to test it out. Roomy, comfortable, and perfect for his needs as an outdoorsman, Terry later sought a motel and bided his time, waiting for her to show up by lingering inside the coffee shop.

Now he found himself lost again.

He returned to the coffee shop after an hour and ordered a turkey club sandwich with tomato basil soup. Jess emerged from the café with her friends, looking subdued. He sat back in the cut and watched her drive away, thinking about her softness.

Returning to the motel, he tried to turn in early after watching a few movies. He tossed and turned all night, dreaming about Jess. Before dawn broke, he woke up with a throbbing erection. He twisted his legs around the cheap, thin motel sheets. Their friction against his dick might have influenced the vivid dream he snapped awake from. There was nothing inherently erotic about it at first, just a replaying of hugging Jess and rocking her in his arms. But then she dropped to her knees, right there next to her car, and unfastened his pants, fishing out the thick dick that her cute hands couldn't get to fast enough. The rich brown heaviness pulsed in her hand. He was a big man everywhere, and his erection was not meant for those who couldn't handle a big penis. Terry was so ready to nut all in her pretty mouth. Jess teased the fat mushroom cap and thick frenulum ridge with a nasty pink tongue that knew how to please him. He reached down to palm one of her breasts and her top just fell down to her waist, like the magic of dreams often did. Her big titties made him groan, especially the large reddish-brown areolas with stiff nipples ready to be pinched and played with.

Jesus! He was ready to bust.

She started shaking them fat titties, letting them smack against each other, letting him hear how loud they'd sound smacking above his face if he fucked her good and hard.

"Baby, you can put your mouth on that dick. Lemme see how far I can get it down your throat before you choke…"

His deep voice sounded demanding and direct. She lifted those big melons and jiggled them for him, her lips pulled back into a smile showing him that one dimple in her cheek.

That's when he woke up, sweating and cursing, because that shit wasn't really happening.

Terry untangled his legs from the sheets and fisted his dick, pumping his hand up and down from the root to the ridge, squeezing the heft. His pre-cum spilled out in a deluge and he groaned Jess's name. He envisioned her voluptuous breasts, wishing they were in his hands, and came so forcefully that his balls pulsed in a rhythm with the thick white streams he shot across the bed.

"Fuck…fuck…oh…fuck!"

He kept working his hand up and down, pretending she rode his dick, clapping the cheeks of her fat ass on his muscular thighs. A final release of cum signaled the end phase of his intense climax. No orgasm ever felt like that before, just from a dream.

Terry moaned and gasped for air. The room looked blurry because his eyes watered from the pleasure, sweating fluid like the rest of his skin and his content dick.

He squeezed his eyes shut and knew something for certain while being in Shelby Springs: either he'd end up fucking Jess Sims, or he'd make her cry again. Maybe even both… at the same damn time.

Part 3 HERE.

Masterlist.

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[smoketransformer]

Forever Vacation

Vinny was a good looking guy, there was no doubt about that, and he knew it. Hooking up with chicks was easy for him. He partied all the time, which caused his grades to fall behind and he was recently kicked out of college.

This didn’t stop him for going down to Miami though for Spring Break. He was going to be staying with his billionaire uncle who was paying his way through college. Vinny was close to his Uncle Marco; after his parents passed away in an accident during high school, Uncle Marco took Vinny in for a few years. Vinny always figured he would inherit his Uncle Marco’s wealth as he was the closest family member to him. He didn’t need an education when he had Uncle Marco.

Uncle Marco had his personal driver pick up Vinny from the airport.

“Where’s Uncle Marco?” Vinny asked the driver.

“Had a work trip to go to. He’ll be back tomorrow evening,” the driver answered.

After a half hour drive, Vinny arrived at his Uncle’s mansion. It always surprised him the size of the place, and he got to enjoy it all to himself.

Vinny walked in and felt like he was back at home. It smelled of stale cigar smoke, but clean at the same time. His Uncle was a huge cigar aficionado and was almost always seen with one.

He headed to one of the guest bedrooms to unpack his things.

As he was unpacking, he noticed a note on the dresser and began to read:

‘Nephew,

The Dean informed me that you were kicked out. I’m very disappointed in you. I know you think you are here for vacation, but you’ll need to look for work while you are here since you won’t be going back. If you are going to live here, then you are going to be pulling your weight. I worked hard and you need to learn how to as well.

I will be back tomorrow evening. We will discuss your future plans then.

Signed, Uncle Marco

P.S - Stay out of my liquor cabinet and humidor.’

Instead of feeling like he disappointed his uncle, he felt anger. His uncle is retired and gets to enjoy life, but he can’t. Vinny decided he was going to live it up while his Uncle was away.

Marco got his swimsuit on, poured himself a nice glass of scotch and grabbed himself a cigar from his Uncle’s prized stash.

He only had one cigar in his life. His Uncle taught him how to cut and light it on the night of his high school graduation. His Uncle told him it was one of his “cheap” ones since he wouldn’t fully enjoy his special premium ones. Today though, Vinny was going to smoke a real cigar.

The afternoon passed as Vinny laid by the pool with his drink and cigar. Vinny was really enjoying one of his Uncle’s cigars. “I could get use to this,” he thought to himself.

The afternoon turned into the evening. After ordering a pizza and finishing off the bottle of scotch, Vinny passed out in his bed.

The next morning, Vinny felt ill and hungover. He headed to the bathroom to splash his face. When he looked in the mirror, he noticed something different.

“Did I shave last night?” he mumbled to himself. He now sported a short mustache. He was also more tan and noticed he looked a little more fuller. He chalked it up to being outside all day and drinking.

He went back to bed and after a few more hours of rest, he decided to go down to the beach and get some girls’ phone numbers. He put on his swim trunks, which seemed a little tighter, and a button up shirt. He grabbed a few of his Uncle’s cigars and placed them in the front shirt pocket. He felt like he looked like a million bucks; meeting a few hot chicks will be easy.

Vinny walked down to the beach, but it was a little tough. It was hard to catch his breath, but it must have been the heat.

Once he got to the beach, he lit up one of the cigars and smoked it as he laid in the sand.

A couple of college girls, who also were celebrating Spring Break, walked by.

“Looking good ladies,” Vinny called out. The two girls glared at him and said “Creep.”

This was unusual. The ladies never reacted to him that way, but shrugged it off.

As Vinny smoked his cigar, he got up and noticed his button up shirt was uncomfortable, so he unbuttoned it. It felt a lot better. He decided to post a selfie to instagram. When he looked at himself through the front camera, he didn’t even recognize himself. His mustache grew in thicker and larger. He even was thicker and larger. He noticed his gut was also protruding. Something was wrong.

He called an Uber to get back to his Uncle’s place. Vinny was frantic, what was wrong with him. He looked like he aged 20 years. He felt like he aged 20 years.

When the Uber dropped him off, he noticed his Uncle was already home. Naturally, he reached for the other cigar in is pocket, stuck it in his mouth and lit it up. Vinny felt a sense of relief.

He walked in the front door in a hurry but was out of breath. As he tried to catch his breath, he continued to puff on his cigar. Each pull of the smoke seemed to calm him down even more.

“Uncle?” he called out, but his voice was unrecognizable to him. It was deeper and more rough.

“I see you got into my cigars, old man,” Uncle Marco walked into view. Uncle Marco was a large man, with an even larger mustache. His skin was tan and wrinkly, from all his years on the beach and by the pool.

“Old man?” Vinny asked, worried. He still had his cigar in his hand.

“I told you not to, but I guess you don’t have to worry about working now that you are retired,” Uncle Marco tried to reassure his nephew. Uncle Marco approached Vinny and put his hands on his shoulders to turn him around to face a mirror.

The reflection of the two of them looked almost identical. They could have been brothers. Vinny was now an old man with grey hair and a large double chin.

Vinny couldn’t do anything about it. He had aged quickly. His uncle told him that his special cigars had that effect on people and that it couldn’t be undone.

It took Vinny sometime to get use to his new life, but he started to enjoy it. He got to relax out with his Uncle all the time. He needed to smoke as much as him as well, as the couple of cigars he smoked were very addictive. He didn’t care about getting chicks anymore. All he wanted were his cigars and scotch. He and his uncle would smoke 5-6 cigars a day together; they always were smoking.

He was content and happy with his new retired life. He felt that it was the forever vacation he always wanted.

[ayrtonswnna]

⠀⠀⠀LITTLE PRINCESS 〃 george russell oneshot.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ drop a request! ↳ check my masterlist!

⠀⠀⠀george russell x lianna hamilton (hamilton!female oc)

lianna goes on a skiing trip with her brother and his team crew. her historical bickering with george russell turns to something else. ↳ fluff/crack. 4.6k words.

warnings: making out (like... twice. but good provocative making out), author recently started to get some british english studies so it might have gotten a bit carried away, characters with a backstory, lewis hamilton older brother core™ , george being really good with words, spoiled and petty character.

"Imagine you're cold, your brand-new-expensive Moon Boots are wet, you've just lost your favorite Vivienne Westwood necklace, you can't drive to save your life, your hair’s frizzy from the weather, and your older brother keeps talking about how much of a blessing it is to enjoy nature. Life is tough! Too tough!"

Lianna didn’t think joining her brother on this skiing trip would be such a disaster. She imagined cute outfits, sipping hot chocolate by a roaring fire, and maybe getting a few aesthetic paparazzi snaps for good measure. Instead? Wet boots, freezing wind, and an actual uphill climb.

“Lianna, for God’s sake!” Lewis groaned, turning back to stomp a footprint into the snow. “Can you stop whining for five bloody minutes? It’s not the first necklace you lose- and no one forced you to come. And if you don’t stop, I’ll nick those Moon Boots myself, and you can do the rest of the walk barefoot.”

“Wow. Just wow. This is who you call an idol, people? I’d be embarrassed.” She huffed, adjusting her oversized backpack like the world’s most annoyed mountain climber. “Next time, we’re going to Ibiza. Or Mykonos. Somewhere civilised. I’ll start shopping for bikinis as soon as we’re back.”

“Next time,” a voice in the back muttered. ���you’ll be in red with Charles Leclerc for company. Keep up, Little Princess.”

Before she could snap back, George Russell breezed past her like he was strolling through Hyde Park, not hiking up a snowy mountain.

“Feeling sad, Mr. Russell? Gonna miss me this much?”

Mutual pining at its finest; that was their thing. George’s endless teasing, her exaggerated reactions — it was like they had their own language.

“You can’t imagine how much, Miss Little Princess,” he replied with a smirk, offering her a hand as they reached a particularly icy bit. “Now come on, or you’ll end up stuck here till spring.”

Lianna sighed dramatically but took his hand anyway. “If I fall, ruin my coat, or twist my ankle, you owe me a new outfit. And not your boring beige nonsense.”

“Noted, Miss Neon Everything.”

When they finally made it to the rented chalet — a cozy wooden house with floor-to-ceiling windows and a roaring fire — it was a much-needed respite. Lianna threw herself into the nearest armchair with a dramatic groan.

Lewis, ever the drill sergeant, clapped his hands together. “Right, we’re hitting the slopes this afternoon. Who’s in?”

Most of the group chimed in enthusiastically, but Lianna didn’t even flinch. “Absolutely not. I’m staying here. Where it’s warm. Like a normal person.”

George, leaning against the doorframe, grinned. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on the princess. Can’t leave her alone with all this nature.”

Lewis rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. Try not to kill each other.”

The door clicked shut, and Lianna and George were left alone in the quiet warmth of the house. The youngest Hamilton groaned, tugging a throw blanket over herself.

At least they had phone area; she had some good real fun with Tiktoks before she could feel the pair of eyes over her.

“What?” she snapped, looking up.

“Nothing,” George said, trying to suppress a grin, coming back from the kitchen. “Just enjoying the theatrics. You could’ve been an actress, you know.”

“It is just not fair, my drama is really valid. You numpty.” she muttered, fidgeting with her sweater. “My boots are ruined, my mood is ruined, and now I’m stuck here with you.”

He chuckled, plopping onto the couch beside her. “Admit it, you’d be bored out of your mind without me.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “I thrive in solitude.”

“Is that why you always find me at events?” George teased. “Or why you made sure it was me driving you home after my birthday?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she threw him a pillow without hesitating. "Everyone else was smashed, and you kept offering, like, three times. I said I’d just grab an Uber, but you bolted to get the keys like it was life or death."

“If it helps you sleep at night…” He just smiled, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. “You’re gonna miss me, though. Once you’re off in Italy with Lewis.”

“Nahhh… Not at all. Maybe just some of your paddock fits, and your private jet- Oh, I love the jet. But you?” her nose crunched, ready to keep the yapping but caught off guard when she took a few seconds to look up at him.

The damn blue eyes and the prince posture, even relaxed by the couch. Something like comfort floating in between them and the freedom the driver had while scanning her face.

Her bravado faltered for a moment; he seemed so sure of what he was doing that he even leaned closer. “Maybe a tiny bit, right? We can agree on that.”

She caught her breath. “Us? Agreeing? No way on God’s green earth.”

“You’ll be gutted when I’m not around, admit it.” he winked, in a cheesy way he knew would make her laugh. He is in fact really good with that. “Unlike you, Little princess, I am fully able to recognize I will miss making fun of your over-expensive clothes and your crying when Lew wins- and the tantrums over food! I’ll even miss that...”

“Oh! You clot! I dress well and I cry a lot - my brother is the biggest winner in your sport and I don’t enjoy much food besides mom’s. And the actual problem here is how obsessed you are with me! That’s a lot of information.”

“Obsessed? Nah, that’s too much” he said quietly, “But I guess I really do notice you a lot. You’ve got a presence.”

She blinked, her cockiness crumbling. “Don’t expect me to say anything like that about you- I only notice your boring clothes and your radio calls because they’re funny.”

“Again, if it helps you sleep at night…” he replied, his head only tilted more and more to the side, closer and closer to her. She’s noticed, of course she did. Suddenly it’s getting hot; and they're in the middle of the snow.

There’s something like tension in the air, it’s weird how they can get to that sometimes. It just never happened in a one-on-one environment. Silence grew thick and his breath could reach her cheek now. It is not like they haven’t been near before. 

They stood together in a full elevator once, her body stuck in between his figure and the wall as she kept conversation with their friends also inside the cabin. Tough time for Mister Russell, he fought for his life that day.

She feels that way when he lifts her up to get across the paddock, through the high-posted gates and the half-walls, or when he jokingly approaches her from behind during parties.

It is actually surprising they didn’t cross any line yet.

“I notice when you see me from the distance and you smile. It happens more in the garage… Sometimes I even forget it’s my job to hate you.” it slid from her lips before she could stop it; but, somehow. It felt right to say. The silence was suffocating.

“You smile back every time. You wave too… Like a Little Princess.”

They might not actually hate each other; in fact, it might be the other way around. Even Lianna could see it, now that she took the courage to lean to the side and stare back. Eye-in-eye action. A bold, strong one.

George’s gaze lingered, sharp but soft in a way that made her chest tighten. His confidence wasn’t overbearing, but there was no mistaking the certainty in his eyes. That kind of focus could stop anyone in their tracks, and right now, it was aimed solely at her.

“Little Princess, huh?” she said, her voice quieter now, the teasing edge fading into something she wasn’t entirely prepared for.

His lips twitched, almost smirking. “You wear the title well.”

Her mouth opened to snap back, but nothing came out. She felt trapped — in a good way. Her heart was speeding up, and there was no denying the pull in the air, like something unspoken was gaining weight with every second.

His hand rested on the couch between them, fingers grazing the cushion as though he was holding himself back. Hers wasn’t far off, her fingers clutching the edge of the fabric. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if the space between them was shrinking by the second.

“You’re staring,” she pointed out, her voice trembling slightly, betraying her.

“You’re letting me,” George shot back, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to make her stomach flip.

She rolled her eyes instinctively, but her attempt at nonchalance was betrayed when her gaze dropped — just for a second — to his lips. He caught it, of course. How could he not?

His hand shifted, the movement slow, deliberate. His fingers grazed curls, moving them to the side before tracing the now free area of her face, featherlight, sending a shockwave straight up her spine. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she didn’t.

Her breath hitched. She wanted to say something — anything — but the words caught in her throat, tangled up in the pounding of her heartbeat. Her throat went dry as soon as he had more skin touching her, hand finding room in the side of her neck, the big palm rubbing against the sensitive part, gently and firmly holding her in place, as controversial it could feel.

The texture of his skin was warm, rougher than she expected, like he’d been gripping the steering wheel too tightly for too long. She’d never thought much about George’s hands before, but now? Now they were all she could think about.

Her own palm pressed lightly around his fist, and the simple connection felt intimate in a way she wasn’t ready to admit. It’s the implying; how his thumb ghosted around her cheek, secretly making way to her bottom lip, hypnotizing, striking. His fingers could get a hold of her hair now and that’s when he knew she was fully melted, just like her head did onto his hand, her eyes almost shutting closed. From the slighted touch. It would form an amazing joke if he could ever think of one at the moment. 

“Still don’t think you’ll miss me?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the tension crackling between them.

“Not even a little bit,” she lied, though her voice betrayed her again, soft and unsteady.

He leaned closer, the shift so gradual it was like he was giving her time to stop him. His breath was warm against her cheek, and she could feel the faint scent of his cologne — something subtle but crisp, like cedarwood and rain.

They’re closer now, her body betraying her with its natural instinct to lean toward him.

“You’re terrible at lying,” he said, his lips so close to hers now that she could almost feel the words as much as she heard them. “I really thought you were tough. But here you are, practically melting under my touch.”

Her heart felt like it might explode. The weight of his gaze, the heat of his hand against her skin, the sheer proximity — it was all too much and yet not enough. With his hand still holding her in place, his thumb brushed against her lip, as let out a soft laugh, his breath warm against her ear now. “So, this is what happens when I get you alone? Can’t say I’m complaining... but don’t think I won’t use this against you later.”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper, trembling as she said, “Shut up, George.”

And then, as if her words were the permission he’d been waiting for, his lips brushed hers. It wasn’t a kiss, not yet. It was tentative, a question more than an answer. Her brother’s future-ex-teammate leading the hell they’ll turn into paradise, still keeping her where she is as he didn’t let the kiss really happen — driving her crazy. 

A single moment stretched into infinity as her mind raced and her body froze, caught between the overwhelming urge to pull him closer and the voice in her head screaming that this was a bad idea.

Her fingers curled tighter around his wrist, pulling him closer and making him smile teasingly, believing it was enough with the temptation. His lips pressed against hers, soft and warm and everything she hadn’t let herself imagine before.

The world fell away.

She didn’t move at first, too overwhelmed by the weight of it all. But then her body took over, her lips moving against his in a way that felt natural, instinctive. Her hand slid from the couch to his arm, her fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his shirt, and she could feel the muscles beneath tense at her touch.

His lips lingered on hers, teasing, before he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, both of them breathless. The world around them seemed to fade; there was nothing but the quiet of the room and the rapid beats of their hearts, out of sync but somehow perfectly aligned.

George’s hand slid from her neck to her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip, drawing her attention to it before capturing her mouth once more. This time, it wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t questioning. It was urgent, like they both knew the clock was ticking, and there was no going back.

Her hands were already tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer, her body instinctively arching into his as if it belonged there. She didn’t care about the consequences anymore. All she cared about was the heat of his skin, the way his lips moved against hers, the way his body fit against hers perfectly.

The kiss deepened, and her fingers slid to the back of his neck, gripping his hair, tugging him down as she tilted her head to get closer, to deepen the kiss. It was reckless. It was desperate. But it was also... exhilarating. Her body pressed harder against his, and she could feel the tension coil tighter inside her, like a spring wound too tight, ready to snap.

Just as she felt him pull her flush against him, his knee sliding between her legs, the door clicked.

They both froze.

The sound of the lock turning seemed to reverberate in her chest. In an instant, George shoved himself away from her, his chest heaving as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

She scrambled to adjust herself, heart pounding, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“Hey, you guys, everyone alive?” Lewis’s voice rang through the room as the door swung open, revealing him with a knowing smirk. “Oh- Did I… Did I interrupt something?”

Lianna’s breath was still shallow, her hand clutching the side of the couch like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

George was trying his best to look unaffected, but his disheveled appearance wasn’t helping.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You two are weird. Seriously, what is going on with you two? Are we gonna have to start an intervention?”

Lianna shot him a glare. “What do you want, Lewis?” she snapped, though her voice was a little too shaky to sound convincing.

Lewis, oblivious to the tension that had just enveloped the room, shrugged. “Oh, I just came to grab my... uh, charger. Is everything ok down here? You both seem… Weird?” He glanced between them, the smirk still dancing on his lips. “It’s almost like you’re in a friendly competition or something.”

George shot a glance at Lianna, and in a flash, they both tried to cover the awkwardness with false bravado.

“Oh, please,” Lianna scoffed, crossing her arms, trying to play it cool. “Competition with George isn’t competition. I win every time.”

George quickly jumped in, grinning like he didn’t just almost kiss her senseless. “Never won against me on paddle, karting, chess, soccer… You even lose bets. Don’t lie to-”

“Alright, alright. Got it. You still hate each other. Got it.” Lewis rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it, but he played along.

They both nodded in exaggerated agreement, too quickly to be convincing, but it seemed to ease the weirdness, if only for a second.

“Anyway, I’m off,” Lewis said, his voice light and carefree, though he was clearly still enjoying the strange vibe between them. “We’ve all got that race in an hour, and I don’t plan on being caught in a compromising position again.” He winked at them both. “You two might want to stay away from each other until then, yeah?”

He lingered for a moment longer, clearly sensing something was off but not quite knowing what, before turning to leave.

There was a long silence between them after he left.

Lianna let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “God, that was close.”

George just exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I swear, if he noticed anything, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He leaned against the back of the couch, his expression half annoyed, half amused.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to hear anything if you weren’t so obvious,” she shot back, though there was still a slight edge to her voice. The playful bickering was slowly returning, but there was still a rawness in the air.

“You started it,” he said with a smirk, a challenge in his eyes as he crossed his arms. “You’re the one who can’t keep her hands to herself.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping away from him. “You kissed me, George.”

He grinned. “And you kissed me back.”

“Right, yeah. ” she shot back. “You kissed me, I kissed you back, Lewis got in and stopped us. End of the story”

“Fine, It didn’t seem like you wanted to end it before Lew- Ouch, Lianna!” he started normally, but a pillow hit his face half way through it. 

“Yeah, now stand up and let’s go change. You have to snowboard and I have to sit down and look pretty in my Fendi coat. Let´s go.”

That night, long after the others returned and went to bed, Lianna found herself pacing in her room. Her mind was a storm of thoughts, emotions swirling that she couldn’t quite name. Her heart was racing, every step against the cold wood floor seeming to echo through her. That kiss, that moment — she couldn’t shake it.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed a hoodie, padded barefoot across the hall, and knocked lightly on George’s door.

"Lianna?" His voice was groggy, thick with sleep.

When he opened the door and saw her standing there, his expression softened, eyes still heavy with sleep but already wide awake in that instant. His lips parted, a mixture of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite read.

Without waiting for him to say more, she pushed past him, climbing into his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t make it weird,” she said, her tone dismissive but her body betraying her nerves, every movement stiff as if she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

“My room’s freezing,” she added, but even to her own ears, it sounded like a half-hearted excuse.

George chuckled, the sound low and warm in the dim room, sliding in beside her without hesitation. "Of course. Wouldn’t dream of it," he muttered, though his voice carried a teasing edge.

The bed creaked under them as they shifted, both finding an awkward comfort in the space between them. It was quiet — too quiet — but the it wasn’t uncomfortable. They lay there in the dark, the moments stretching out between them, until Lianna broke the silence.

“So…” she started, her voice uncertain. “Do you remember that time when we were at that dinner, and you were being all smug because you knew exactly what to order?”

George groaned, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t know you hated the fact that I actually have taste.”

She snorted. “Taste? You were showing off like you were some gourmet chef or something. I swear, I almost choked on my water just to get out of hearing about your ‘expert’ opinions on wine.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm. “I was just trying to share some culture with you. Not my fault you don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

Lianna raised an eyebrow, turning her head slightly to look at him. “You mean you just like hearing yourself talk.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “But at least you listened. That’s more than I can say for some people.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, her voice a little teasing now, though there was something in it that made it feel a little too intimate. “I listened. I just didn’t appreciate it. Just like the way you act like I’m some sort of charity case when you give me rides.”

George turned his head slightly, lips barely touching the top of her hair as he spoke, quieter now. “You know, you always act like you don’t like it. But I think you do. You like the attention.”

Lianna’s breath caught, her mind racing. She had always been so quick to brush off anything too personal between them, especially when it came to him. But now, with his voice so close, the words lingered.

She shifted, unsure of how to respond, but then, without thinking, she said, “Yeah, sure, I like the attention. I’m not ashamed of it.”

George smiled, a genuine warmth in his voice when he spoke again. “I noticed. You do like the spotlight.”

Lianna shifted again, her face now resting just below his collarbone. “I never said I liked it. I just like being noticed when I want to be.” Her fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, and she cursed herself for making it sound so... intimate.

He paused for a second, the tension between them palpable. "I get that," he murmured softly. "You deserve to be noticed."

Lianna didn’t respond right away. Instead, she let the silence settle between them. She couldn’t ignore it anymore — the way he said it, like it was just a matter of fact. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt suddenly exposed, vulnerable in a way that she hadn’t expected.

They both lay there in the dark, the tension creeping up between them, thick but not unbearable. He spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I know we always bicker. It’s kind of our thing, isn’t it? But don’t pretend it’s just for fun, Lianna. You know I can’t resist when you get all worked up.”

She turned slightly, her face closer to his now. “Maybe I just like getting under your skin,” she said, her words coming out smoother than she intended.

“Oh, I know you do,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “But don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy when I noticed you, when I called you out on something. You liked the attention just as much as I did."

Lianna’s heart fluttered, the heat between them escalating with every word. “Yeah, maybe I did,” she said, her voice almost a whisper now. She was almost embarrassed by how much it was affecting her, but she didn’t pull away.

George’s fingers brushed against the side of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “I noticed you, alright,” he murmured. “Every little thing. Every smile, every look, every time you’d act like you didn’t care, when I knew you did.”

She let out a shaky breath, her chest tightening in response to his words. “I didn’t know you paid that much attention.”

“I always do,” he whispered, his lips so close to her ear now, the words brushing against her skin. “You’re hard to miss, Lianna.”

There it was again. The weight of his words, sinking in as he said it like it was just another casual thing. But it didn’t feel casual. It felt charged, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Lianna opened her mouth, about to reply, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she just let the moment linger, the silence swallowing them both up for a beat before he broke it with a soft exhale.

"You make it hard to keep my distance," George whispered, his lips brushing against the top of her hair.

Her heart skipped. His voice, the way he said it, made her shiver slightly. She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply stayed quiet, absorbing his words, trying to figure out what to say next.

But the air around them was electric now. Her body was pressed to his, the warmth of his skin making her chest tighten and her breath catch. Her hand found its way to his chest, lightly resting against him, and it almost felt like a reflex.

Then, without thinking, she leaned in. Her lips met his again, soft at first, hesitant, as if they were both afraid of crossing some invisible line. But the second her lips touched his, everything else seemed to fade away. It deepened naturally, a quiet urgency behind it, as if they both had waited long enough to let this moment stretch between them, just like they knew there’s no going back; ever since earlier on the couch. They started something that’s impossible to just stop now.

Her fingers found the fabric of his shirt, gripping it just a little tighter, and the kiss deepened, slow and sure, like they had all the time in the world. His hands moved, tentative at first, tracing the line of her jaw before cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing the skin with a tenderness that made her heart beat harder.

There was something intoxicating about the way he kissed her—like he was trying to memorize the taste, the warmth of her, but also something urgent, a silent need that they both couldn’t name.

The kiss broke, but neither of them pulled away completely. Their foreheads rested together for a moment, breaths mingling, both of them unwilling to speak. The weight of what had just happened hung there, both of them knowing that it meant something, but neither of them wanting to say it out loud.

She could feel the hum in her chest, that buzzing tension that still lingered, but there was a certain calm, too. The kiss had been slow, deliberate, nothing rushed, nothing forced. And yet, it had been more than either of them expected.

“George,” she whispered again, this time quieter, almost as if she was trying to convince herself.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on her arm as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm tighter around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, the world seemed to slow. Their lips found each other again in the dark, softer this time, less urgent but no less electric.

Before either of them realized, sleep began to creep in. The kiss faded, their breathing evening out as their bodies relaxed into the warmth of the bed. It was as if everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, was allowed to rest, allowed to settle between them.

They didn’t speak anymore, didn’t need to. The quiet stretched on, thick with the unspoken understanding that something had shifted. And as the hours passed, with their bodies tangled together, both of them finally fell asleep, the tension lingering in the silence but no longer pulling them apart.

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[everyandanything]

I'm bored so I'm posting something from my wip folder that will never see the light of day otherwise lol.

Warning though: I wrote this forever ago and i don't think I had the characters nailed down yet (also not super edited just fyi).

Darry and Pony were fighting again.

It was the third time this week that they were at each other’s throats, and Soda couldn’t even remember what the fight was about this time. Pony’s grades? Missing curfew? They were all starting to blend together.

“When will you get it through that thick skull of your’s kid? I don’t know why you think I’ve got all this money stashed away that I’m hiding from you, but I don't. You can’t just spring needing a new pair of shoes before next week’s track meet on me and expect the money to just fall from the sky.”

Money, then. That’s right, Pony’s old shoes were falling apart, and he needed to get a new pair.

“But you did know Darry! They’re your shoes from high school. They don’t even fit, how do you expect me to run anything decent in them?” Ponyboy was getting real worked up, but so was Darry, for that matter. They’d both been keyed up something fierce this week, but neither of them would tell Soda why.

“Hey guys, I just finished up the mashed potatoes, you’ll never guess what color they are this time,” Soda cut in, trying to lighten the mood. But he might as well not even be there.

“You’ve been running this long in them and it hasn’t slowed you down none. Coach just said to me last week that you could get a scholarship, so I know new shoes won’t make that much of a difference.”

“You and that damn track scholarship,” Pony muttered, rolling his eyes. Soda didn’t think Darry was supposed to hear, necessarily, but Pony also didn’t shy away from his older brother’s glare.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? A scholarship could get you far kid, you got to look at the big picture—”

“There’s more to life than just sports, Darry! I don’t even know if I want a track scholarship. But I sure as hell know I don’t want to be lugging roofing around all day, and from where I’m standing, banking on a sports scholarship is a fast track to a life going nowhere.”

Soda’s mouth fell open at the words, shocked to hear something so cruel come from his baby brother. And from the look on Pony’s face, he was shocked too. Guilt was written all over his features as he reached out to his older brother.

“Shoot, I’m sorry Dar, I didn’t mean that. It’s just been a tough week, the Socs have been making my life a living hell. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Soda chanced a glance at Darry, his expression broke Soda’s heart. There was a glassiness to his eyes that he knew his brother would never admit to, as he struggled to look anywhere but at his younger brother. He smiled at Pony’s apology, but Soda could tell it was strained.

He cleared his throat and said, “It’s fine, I get it.”

“Darry—”

But apparently, their brother didn’t want to hear it. “I’ll see what I can do about the shoes, alright? No promises though.”

Pony glanced over at Soda, alarm in his eyes. Soda knew the look matched his own, Darry never backed down so easily.

Unsure of what else to do, Soda cut in, “If you two are through bickering like two old women, you think you can sit down and eat? I slaved over these mashed potatoes.”

Pony headed towards him, but Darry shook his head. “I’m not that hungry, I think I might just turn in early tonight. Got a big day tomorrow.”

That was a load and Soda knew it, apparently, Pony did, too, because he said, “Come on Dar, don’t be like that. We all know you could eat the whole table after you get home from work.”

Darry finally looked towards them, and Soda could see it then. The cracks in his armor, the way he was barely holding it together. Darry hadn’t looked like this since right after their parents died and he’d had to fight to figure out how to keep their family together. Something was wrong, more than the fight with Pony, their brother’s harsh words had just been icing on the cake.

Soda wanted to do anything in his power to help his brother, but he didn’t know how. Darry gave him a pleading look then, and there was one thing, at least, Soda knew he could do.

“Lay off of him, Ponyboy. If he’s really that scared of pink potatoes, he doesn’t deserve them anyway.”

Pony glanced at him, “Pink, when’d you get pink food coloring?”

Soda gave him a look of mock confusion. “Who said anything about food coloring?”

Pony was clambering to go see his concoction, leaving Darry and Soda in the living room alone.

“You okay Darry?” He asked, voice quiet.

Darry blinked at him, He thought his older brother might say something, but he just shook his head. “I will be, Pepsi, I will be.”

Darry was already up sitting at the kitchen table, bills in hand, when Soda walked into the kitchen the next morning.

He looked older than Soda remembered. His skin worn, his eyes bloodshot. He reached a hand up to push his hair back and it trembled, just slightly. That never would have happened before. 

He hated being the middle man between his brothers, but he’d do anything to help protect Darry. He knew Pony didn’t get it, not yet. But one day he’d look back and realize all that their brother had given up just to keep them together.

“You get any sleep, Superman, or have you been staring at those bills like they’re a romance novel all night?”

Darry tuned those tired eyes towards him, and there was just a second where the mask was down, where the look he gave Soda was so haunted and lost that he wanted to reach over and wrap his big brother in a hug and never let go, but he knew that Darry would hate him for it.

So Soda watched as Darry put himself back together and offered his little brother a tight smile. “Just trying to figure out how to make it all work, little buddy. Money is tight this month anyways, and now Pony’s gotta have new shoes for the season.”

Soda made his way over to the fridge, pulling out the chocolate cake. “Does he really need them right now? You said so yourself last night, he’s gotta pair already.”

“Sure, but they’re my old pair. They’re worn to hell. Not to mention they’re at least two sizes too big. He’s right, if he doesn’t have a better pair, there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep up with the other guys, he’ll be too busy tripping.”

“He could make do though, it’s just track.”

Darry shook his head. “But it’s not just track. The kid’s really good, I’ve seen him. He could get a scholarship, go to college somewhere, make something of himself.”

“But there’s no guarantee, and the odds of it being a full ride even if he does are slim. We can hardly afford this place, how are you gonna help him pay for room and board even if he does go?”

Darry sighed, it was a bone weary sound of a man twice his age, and Soda hated that he was giving him a hard time first thing in the morning. 

“Sorry, I’m just trying to be realistic here, Darry. The kid’ll be fine if you don’t get him those shoes.”

“I’ve gotta at least give him a shot, I owe him that much. We’ll figure out the rest as it comes.” 

He stood up, heading to the front door, Soda frowned.

“What about breakfast? You gotta be starving.”

Darry waved him off, “Maybe later, I’m running late.”

Soda glanced at the clock, he didn’t have to be at work for another hour. “What about your lunch, did you grab your bag?”

“I’ll get something on my way, I gotta go, Pepsi, see you tonight!”

And with that, Darry was gone. For some reason, Soda couldn’t get rid of that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that something wasn’t quite right. But then Pony came in, bleary-eyed and gunning for the chocolate cake, and Soda let himself forget.

It was well after midnight, and the gang was all curled up watching movies at the Curtis household.

It wasn’t often that they all stayed in, usually someone was to antsy, looking stir up trouble somewhere (that someone was usually Dally). But the game was on that night, and then Two-Bit got them caught up watching the Mickey cartoons, and the next thing Soda knew, they were all sitting around eating cake and watching movies. It was nice to hang back every once in a while, Soda decided. Maybe they went out too much anyway.

“Man, I can’t believe Darry missed that game, he’s gonna be kicking himself,” Two-Bit said.

Soda felt his heart skip a beat because Darry hadn’t ever been out this late before, not since their parents died. The guy hadn’t even taken a night out on the town, no matter how much Soda begged him. It’d been another reason he was alright staying home, just to make sure his brother got back okay.

“Maybe we can give him a hard time for being late, a taste of his own medicine and all that,” Pony mumbled.

Steve laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that pipsqueak, Superman would just catapult you into next year.”

Pony furrowed his brow, but they were all saved from the ensuing fight when the screen door finally opened. Relief flooded Soda, but it was short lived.

His brother was a wreck. His clothes coved in grime, disheveled in a strange way. He didn’t even seem to notice them sitting there, taking the tool belt off from around his waist and hanging it by the door, then pulling his shoes off, one by one, his hands still shaking like they had that morning.

“Damn, Superman, what the hell happened to you?” Two-Bit asked.

Darry blinked, seeming to notice them for the first time. But he just waved them off, not saying a word as he headed down the hall and beelined for the bathroom. A second later they heard the shower switch on.

They sat in silence for a moment, the mood soured to something uncomfortable. “Is he okay?” Leave it to Johnny to be the one to voice what they were all thinking.

“Sure he is, kid, fighting crime’s just a tough gig is all,” Two-Bit said, smirking, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off the bathroom door.

Dally broke the spell then, standing up and giving a large stretch. “Whatever man, it’s getting late anyways. If I don’t get home and get some sleep I’m gonna be useless tomorrow.”

“Yeah, because you do so much for the good of society now,” Steve muttered, and Dally really must have been tired, because usually that comment would have ended in a wrestling match.

“Watch your tone, Randle, or else I’ll pop your head off.”

“You guys can stay if you want, it’s late.” He offered, but really, he was glad to see them file out. Whatever Darry had going on, he wasn’t sure that he’d have the energy to keep up with the guys tonight, and Soda knew he’d try if they were still here.

The gang must have known it too, because they waved him off. 

“If I don’t show up at my place at least once this week my mom might really throw me out this time,” Two-Bit said with a wink.

The guys started filing out, but Two-Bit paused at the door, leveling Soda with a look. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel nervous.

“Keep an eye out for your brother, all right? Call if you need anything.”

Soda laughed, trying for a joke. “You going soft on me, Mathews?”

But Two-Bit didn’t laugh. “Darry’s done a lot for me, if I can return the favor, I will in a heartbeat, you got that?”

Soda nodded, “Of course, Two-Bit, I get it.” And Soda did. The two were closest in age out of the whole group, and they’d been thick as thieves once upon a time. No one could keep Two-Bit’s head on straight quite like Darry could.

Two-Bit patted him on the shoulder, “ Good man, Soda. I’ll see you losers tomorrow!”

Pony and Soda were left alone with nothing but the sound of the shower to break the silence. It felt heavier without anyone there to distract him.

“You think Darry’s okay?” Pony asked him.

Soda gave him a smile, pulling his little brother in close. “Yeah, he’ll be alright. Just needs some food and a good night’s sleep is all.”

Pony frowned. “Doesn’t he have to go in tomorrow though? He’s gotta leave in four hours.”

Soda glanced at his watch, frowning. Ponyboy was right, Darry didn’t have the weekend off; he was going to run himself into the ground at this rate. “Well, let’s get him something whipped up real quick so he can go straight to bed, sound good?”

Pony nodded, “Better leave it to me, if he has another one of your science experiments for dinner it might be the final nail in the coffin.”

Soda gave him a shove, laughing, and finally he heard the shower turn off. He tried to busy himself in the living room, cleaning up the remains of the chocolate cake and straightening up after the guys. It was amazing how much of a mess they could make after such a mellow night. Finally the door to the bathroom creaked open, and Darry came out.

He looked a little more human than he had earlier, but he still had that empty look in his eye that Soda didn’t like.

“Hey Darry, you ready to eat? Pony’s whipping something up for you.”

It took Darry a minute to turn his gaze towards him, “Pony?” He asked, voice quiet.

It scared Soda. But he didn’t want to make too much of a deal out of it, not in front of their brother. “Yeah, come on.”

Darry shook his head. “I’m not hungry, I think I’ll just go to bed.”

Soda walked over to his brother and grabbed his hand. It was calloused over, nails bitten to the quick. When had he gotten so worn down?

“Come on Darry, please? It’ll hurt Pony’s feelings if you skip out on his meal.”

He knew he wasn’t playing fair, but he was really starting to worry. Darry nodded and let himself be led to the kitchen table. Ponyboy offered him a smile.

“Here you are Darry, mashed potatoes and some leftover chicken. And wonder of wonders, everything is a normal color!”

“And where’s the fun in that, kid brother? I mean, if you can’t have your dinner every color of the rainbow, then what’s the point?”

That, at least, brought a small smile out of Darry. He nodded, and took the plate from Pony, his hand only shaking slightly. But he didn’t eat any of the food on the plate, just stared at the mashed potatoes.

Soda was debating whether he should prod his brother again and try to get to the bottom of this when he finally spoke up.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

Pony tilted his head, “Me? What for?”

Darry pulled out his wallet and handed Pony a twenty dollar bill. “This is for those shoes for track, go out and get you a pair tomorrow.”

Pony kept looking between him and the bill, dumbstruck, like he thought this was all some sort of joke. “You’re kidding.”

Darry shook his head. “You said you needed shoes, right? Well, that ought to get you a good enough pair to last a few years.”

“Darry, no way, this is too much.”

Darry gave him a look, and for a second, he almost looked like his normal self. “You want me to take it back? Because I can put it to good use myself, you know.”

“What, no way! It’s mine now!” Ponyboy said, laughing. “This is great! Me and Johnny can go pick a pair out tomorrow, I’ve been looking at the catalog for weeks.”

Ponyboy’s grin was so wide that his face nearly split in two. And Soda watched as Darry relaxed, just a fraction, for the first time all day. Whatever he’d had to do had been worth it. Darry finally picked up his own fork and began eating. Maybe, Soda thought, they’d be okay.

[jomaccudo]

I'm trying to distract myself from The Dread, so come gather around and meet my current comfort plushies!

From left to right we have: Panko fox, Bostock deer, Baa Nelly lamb, Choco cat, and Suzu cat. A little (or large) blurb about each one below the cut....

-Panko the fox is Sunlemon's Hizakitsune. I got Panko in 2020 and he was there for some tough times. He's looking pretty well loved, which I think is a beautiful patina.

-Bostock is a small version of Aurora's reindeer plush! Not much to say about him. I got him this past spring. He's just really soft and very sweet!

-Regarding Baa Nelly: I've wanted a Lollie Lamb for years and jumped on it so quickly when Jellycat rereleased her. I knew her name would be Nelly, and I carefully sculpted her face to enhance her natural expression. Enter my 1.5 year old son, who has recently mastered the sound a sheep makes; whose favorite book is currently Sheep in a Shop; and who was starstruck upon seeing Real sheep at a pumpkin patch last month. He immediately bonded with Nelly, who was forcefully renamed Baa. Now Baa gets to "taste test" all of his meals and go on all manner of spontaneous "climbing" adventures (i.e., being smacked against rocks and trees). But he also just likes to hold her too :) It is currently unclear how long his stewardship over Baa will last.

-I really like Choco!! They're Build a Bear's Chococat. I shortened his legs and neck, and I added bean bags to his paws and torso. This was the first time I brought my mom to Build a Bear with me, and it was really special because she got to put a heart in him and we did the ceremony together. She doesn't recognize Cho ocat specifically, but she is an old school Sanrio lover, being born in Japan in the 1960s. Both Baa Nelly and Choco came home on Oct. 18th!

-Suzu the cat is officially Koharu from the Japanese brand Cuddly. She also arrived this past spring, and she's a really comfy cuddly guy. Like, pleasantly sized, soft and squishy, shaped perfectly for hugs, and has a high quality, handcrafted feel with dense fur. And her paw pads are three dimensional!!

[machveil]

Important marriage question because I just had a spider try to assassinate me while I was in the bathroom with my pants down: How do these strong lethal elite men handle bugs? Do they kill them, scoop em up and throw em outside, call in a third person to handle it? Are there any bugs they refuse to handle at all? Can I pay them in kisses (and other things, I'm willing to negotiate) to come over at 1 in the morning to handle a giant spider I saw that disappeared when I left to get a shoe? I'm desperate, it's getting colder and the bugs seem to think that means it's acceptable to enter my space without paying rent or folding laundry -🐸

wait, because you’re so real for that 🐸 anon—

CoD Headcanon: Man vs Nature

in one corner we have a hunky, beefy soldier, in the other corner? the deadly, vile spider just a common house spider! who’s coming out on top? who’s calling for backup? who is abandoning the room and letting the spider live rent free? find out with our featured contestants: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König

CW: creepy crawlies, bug smooshing, handling bugs, generally talking about insects and arachnids nondescriptly

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

it’s dead.

actually, in all seriousness, I think Simon hates insects and arachnids. it doesn’t matter if it’s considered a ‘cute’ bug, they just freak him out. he wouldn’t let it show, he’ll go about business straight faced, but sometimes you’ll see him flinch if a bug gets too close to his face

as big and tough as he is, I have this one goofy headcanon that it’s late spring on base and the 141 are just takin’ a stroll off duty as a group. maybe they’re goin’ for drinks, maybe it’s just a walk around base, but a bug catches Ghost off guard - rare, I know

what was the bug? a stupid butterfly, it came up behind him and got all up in his face. he definitely flinched back and automatically swatted it away. Soap and Gaz will not let him live that down, Price only brings it up after a few drinks

if you need him to kill a spider or a bug he’ll do it in a heartbeat. he’ll play it off that it’s for you so you don’t have to worry… but Simon just doesn’t like creepy crawlies in the house. he’ll roll up an old magazine or grab a shoe - just like the battlefield, Simon shows no mercy

he despises killing flies, he always misses them and it drives him nuts. he’d rather listen to Soap bring up the butterfly incident than try to hit a fly. ironically, he’s better at getting gnats - in my opinion, the smaller fly

my rating for Simon “Ghost” Riley on this matter is a solid 7/10 - he will get rid of spiders via a swift magazine swat. he’s not the best with flies, but otherwise he’s pretty reliable. I’d say he wins against nature here

John “Soap” MacTavish:

Johnny screams when there’s a spider. is he a bazillion times larger than it? yes, does it freak him out? absolutely. he can handle insects just fine, wasps wig him out though. he’ll curse at a critter before remembering he can kill it

he definitely threatens bugs, “Aye— ya get out, I’ll come for ya wee family next.”, as he’s going to grab a shoe. absolutely panics when he comes back and the bug is just… gone. he’ll quarantine that room, no one is allowed in or out until he finds the stupid thing. it’s high stakes, especially if it’s a spider. he’ll tell you to not come in even if you hear him scream, he promises he’ll get it

he’s definitely the type that feels like his skin is crawling when a bug lands on him. even if he swats it off, Johnny will have to, like, wash his hands a little just so he can feel clean. he really only does that at home, he’ll suck it up when he’s on base or walking around, but he hates feeling icky after a bug lands on him, “I’ll be back, gotta wash my hands.”

he does like the generically cute bugs though, he’ll pick up random bugs and unintentionally terrorize you with them because he thinks they’re cool. he’s brought a handful of pill bugs into the house before - says they’re cute and you should poke one, “Look at ‘em! They jus’ roll up, see—“, panics when he drops one and feels genuinely bad

if a spider is bigger than, like, his thumb he’s calling someone. he’s seen those freaky videos of spiders lunging at the cameraman, he doesn’t want that happening to him. he’d definitely call Ghost or Gaz if one of them is nearby, he’s not afraid to whine about a spider in the corner of a room and ask for them to kill it

my rating for John “Soap” MacTavish is a solid 4/10 - while it’s a little low it’s mostly because he 1) might be too scared to whack a bug for you and 2) he might just bring more bugs into the house to show you. he’ll get rid of little bugs, but if it’s too big he’ll cower with you

König:

there’s a bug? “Ah— don’t worry, Liebling, I’ll get it. Oh, it’s a yellow garden spider, they’re actually called argiope aurantia. They—”, certified bug yapper. I’ll always say it, König is a nature lover. as a kid he definitely went out into the woods to just hang out and get away from people

he probably borrowed a dozen books from his local library on nature, anything from critters to foliage. he’s got a deep respect for animals - even the creepy crawlies. if it’s not venomous or bound to break skin, König has no problem scooping up a bug or arachnid with his bare hands absolute freak. he’ll just walk to the front door and let it outside…

unless it’s cold out, then you have a problem with König. rationally, he knows it’s absurd, but can’t you just let the spider live in the corner of that room? it’s not hurting anyone, Liebling :(

if it’s unseasonably cold, frigid air outside he’ll grumble and grab a tissue - a little bummed about having to kill that house spider. he’d rather you be comfortable in your own home, sure, but it’s just a little guy to him. at least König has a height advantage, no bug is outside his reach

he’s generally a pacifist towards insects and arachnids - the exception being mosquitoes. he knows they play a part in the ecosystem and blah, blah, blah, but they get on his nerves! and skin

he’ll douse you in bug repellent if you go hiking with him, he does the same thing to himself. if he gets bit by a mosquito he’ll complain about how itchy the bite is for days - has to put a bandaid over bites so he doesn’t scratch at them

my rating for König is a crisp 8/10. he’d be a 9/10 if he didn’t insist on letting spiders live during the winter - one time he got away with it for a week before you woke up to it on the wall next to you. he’s slowly given up on letting them stay after that, mumbling apologies while he scooped it up with a tissue

[rocknrolldecadence]

Hiii, okay so, i've read some of your fics and i really like how you write things, so i wanted to request something fluffy with Axl. Like the reader is really stressed and worn out, so Axl is there for her and in general very sweet with her? I just want you to include lots of hand holding, hugs and kisses (maybe a massage too if you can throw it in somewhere). You don't have to do it if you don't want to, thank you in advance!

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

i’ve got you

you’re stressed, and axl knows what to do to cheer you up

warnings: alcohol and drunkenness

a/n: tysm!!! sorry this took so long, i hope you like it 😛

life had been hitting you hard recently. real hard. it seemed like no matter what you did, you couldn’t ease the stress you felt. everyday was a struggle, and oftentimes you wondered if you’d even get through a day. with everything going on in your life, it felt like you’d never get relief.

there was one thing you found solace in, though. well… one person. your boyfriend, axl. you’d think since he’s the lead singer of the band many proclaimed to be ‘the next big thing’ in the world of rock n roll, he wouldn’t be very loving or attentive. but he was the complete opposite. axl was the most kind, considerate man you knew. sure, that certainly wasn’t the image he kept up in his music or for the media, but he truly was the best person you knew. so when you went round to his place one day, he could tell something was up.

“what’s wrong, love?” he asked you as you sat down together on his sofa. it was old, and a spring loudly creaked as you sat, but you didn’t mind. there was already a glass of wine waiting for you, the decanter placed like a centrepiece between your glass and axl’s. you sighed and sipped on your drink, hesitant to answer. you felt the liquid run down your throat, warming you up from the inside out. silently, you wondered how he was able to afford it. it seemed very fancy. you met your boyfriend’s eyes and began to speak, but cut yourself off.

“you can tell me.” he encouraged, his soft tone of voice putting you at ease.

“just… life, i guess? its so tough. i feel like there’s so many things just weighing me down every day. no matter what i do, i feel so stressed. it’s like there’s no remedy for it. i don’t know what to do.” you confessed. you knew you were safe to tell axl anything. that was what you liked about him - he always made you feel valued and not like you were crazy.

axl listened intently as you vented to him. when you were done, he grabbed you softly and pulled you into a hug, pressing a light kiss on your cheek. the combined smell of tobacco and wine putting you at ease. you let yourself sink into him, and slowly but surely, you began to cry. tears dripped down your face and were absorbed into axl’s shirt. he held you tighter, letting you get your emotions out.

“i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he reassured you as you cried. you stayed like that for a while with him, just holding onto eachother wordlessly. it felt like the world had stopped. you didn’t know how long you ended up sitting on that dingy sofa together, but it was insanely comforting. soon you started to feel better. but then axl had an idea.

“how about we go get some drinks?”

“oh, axl, i don’t kno-”

“think about it. we’ll walk down, sit and have a few, and then we can come back here and sleep. does that not sound good to you?” he said to you. you tossed the idea around in your head before eventually agreeing. why not? it’d be fun.

you got yourself ready with the few supplies you always left at axl’s place. once you were ready, you left with him and started to walk to the nearest bar to his place. subtly, he linked your hand with his, intertwining your fingers together. it made you blush. you and axl had been together for a long time now, but whenever he did small things like that, it still had you reacting like you did at the start of your relationship.

it was a short enough walk to the bar. you sat down on a stool beside axl. it wasn’t very busy, so you got served right away. the bartender took your orders and you both got them quickly. as you sipped away at your drink, you and your boyfriend quietly chatted. after a while he asked, “how you feeling now?”

“i’m okay,” you answered, “feeling better than before, anyway.”

“i’m glad. i hate seeing you so upset, darling.”

you smiled and the two of you fell back into what you were talking about before. as the hours passed, the bar filled up more and more, until you could barely hear what axl was saying to you. so, when you finished your drinks, you paid and left. your tipsiness had you stumbling slightly as you walked back. axl reached out his arm and you leant on him. you giggled at the close contact. he was warm. comforting. and you wanted to tell him so.

“hey, axl.” you said suddenly, stopping under a street lamp.

he turned to look at you and stopped too. “yeah?”

“thanks for tonight. you always know what to do to make me feel better. love you.”

he smiled. “i love you too, baby.”

and with that, he grabbed you and kissed you, disregarding the cars that sped past on the road beside you. you kissed him back, leaning into his embrace.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Allison Pearson

23 March 2024

OH, NO. No. A sense that something was not right, that our wonderful Princess was perhaps in more trouble than we’d been told, was confirmed at 6pm on Friday with an unprecedented TV address that dealt a blow to the nation’s solar plexus.

Some will simply have been stunned by the news, hardly able to comprehend it (what, cancer twice in the Royal family within two months? But she’s so young).

Others will have been in tears, as I was, watching our Princess of Wales, parchment-pale, clearly fragile yet valiantly composing herself to record a message in that crystal-clear voice, reassuring us that, although it had been “an incredibly tough couple of months for our entire family,” she would be OK, given enough time, space and privacy.

One friend who heard it on the car radio pulled over to the side of the road and sobbed. “I am just so upset,” she texted.

Another confessed she was relieved that the Waleses hadn’t separated – one of the wilder rumours that had been flying around since the Princess of Wales was pictured in that photoshopped, too-smiley Mother’s Day picture without her wedding rings.

“For the backbone of Britain, we need those two to be together and happily married,” said my friend. So true.

William ’n’ Kate, Kate ’n’ William, a couple for almost the whole of their adult lives, one unimaginable without the other.

Our monarchy is assured as long as there is them (the Waleses will celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary on 29th April, six days after little Louis turns six).

Suddenly, with this announcement, we are reminded that they are only human too, vulnerable at times, and Britain is badly shaken.

As she finished her statement, the ramifications started to sink in. Prince William has to deal with a father and a wife with cancer at the same time.

There are haunting echoes of Diana, too, another beloved princess whose personal challenges played out so publicly.

Poor William must feel like there are snipers in the garden taking aim at his family.

You could tell the children were uppermost in her mind, just as they are for any parent who is told they have cancer.

George, Charlotte and Louis, she spoke their names aloud, her darlings. You know, I think they were the real reason she steeled herself to do it.

To sit there on that wooden bench with spring bursting out behind her. Daffodils on a grassy bank, trees in blossom – a cruelly lovely backdrop for such sad tidings.

How simply dressed she was in a matelot jumper and jeans, stripped of finery and clothed, instead, in a becoming humility, her beauty thrown into sharp relief by the strain on her face.

A 42-year-old who is uniquely privileged yet now confronts every woman’s frightening brush with mortality.

Her statement was carefully timed to coincide with the start of the school Easter holidays so the children could be safe at home and wouldn’t have to endure whispers in class about Mummy’s illness.

(Sparing them the agonies of embarrassment young William and Harry suffered at boarding school when Charles and Diana were getting divorced.)

It’s not easy to protect your children when their grandfather is the King and their father his heir.

The Prince and Princess of Wales have always been concerned to make things as normal, as Middleton, as possible, for their young family; this is their toughest test yet.

Was there more than a hint of rebuke in the Princess’s carefully measured words for a media that really has shown neither patience nor “understanding” since she disappeared from public view to have abdominal surgery?

She could be forgiven for being furious. (Believe me, many of us are furious on her behalf.)

“William and I have been doing everything we can to process and manage this privately for the sake of our young family,” she said pointedly.

“As you can imagine, this has taken time. It has taken me time to recover from major surgery in order to start my treatment.

But, most importantly, it has taken us time to explain everything to George, Charlotte and Louis in a way that is appropriate for them, and to reassure them that I am going to be OK.”

“Back off,” she was saying in the politest possible way, “leave me and my kids alone.”

Of course, she needed time to come to terms with the shattering blow of having a life-threatening illness and three children under 10. Every mother’s nightmare.

But time is one thing the vultures and conspiracy theorists were not prepared to give her.

In the vacuum Kensington Palace foolishly allowed to develop, the vilest rumours flourished.

Had she undergone cosmetic surgery? Wasn’t she just slacking? Why wasn’t William taking up more duties to relieve his sick father?

Had Catherine left William? Was it a lookalike pictured with William at a Windsor farm shop?

The gossip went global, causing universal hysteria.

Imagine feeling as sick and scared as the Princess must have done, yet being under pressure to show yourself in order to disprove the lies and appease the baying online mob. It’s barbaric.

I hope those who made such disgusting comments are burning with shame today now that we know the reason she hid away.

It wasn’t only ghouls with a conscience bypass who were trying to fill the gaps in the story.

Theories also came from people who adore the Royal family and were deeply worried for the absent Princess. We love and respect her so much.

Incredibly, in a poll earlier this month, the recuperating Princess still managed to emerge as the most popular royal, narrowly ahead of her husband.

Despite the slurry of accusations – not least the appalling claim in an early draft of a book by Omid Scobie (media snitch), that she was one of the two alleged “royal racists” who speculated on the baby’s likely skin colour – their figures are broadly unchanged since a previous poll in 2023.

Never Put a Foot Wrong is said so often it’s practically the definition of her.

Turns out there may be stresses and strains to appearing always in control, to aiming for perfection, that can eat away at a sensitive person not born to be royal.

Catherine says her job brings her joy; it must also have caused worry (such remorseless spotlight scrutiny).

We should reflect on that, I think. On what it’s reasonable to expect from one human being who expects so much of herself.

How the Princess came to win such a large place in British people’s hearts is better than any fairy tale.

Bullied at school, the quiet, sporty brunette was famous for her record-breaking high jump and tenacious character.

She had blossomed by the time she met William in their first term at St Andrew’s.

At 29, when they finally exchanged vows in Westminster Abbey, she was the first royal bride to have a university degree; the first to have lived with her husband before marriage; the first to be raised in a house that had a street number instead of a fancy name and a moat with swans.

As second in line to the throne, William was expected to pick his princess from a select group of well-bred young fillies.

Hot favourites included Davina Duckworth-Chad and one Isabella Amaryllis Charlotte Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe.

Enough hyphens to make plain Catherine Middleton of Bucklebury, Berkshire, feel a little inadequate, you might think.

Except that, when a friend at university told Catherine how lucky she was to be going out with Prince William, a smiling Catherine replied: “He’s lucky to have me.”

The years have proved her right, haven’t they?

The death of Diana left William a damaged, stubborn and angry young man, acutely aware he was a prisoner of fate and railing at the media who pursued his mother.

Catherine has calmed him, rebuilding trust while providing the regular family life he had never known.

She has grown brilliantly into the role and the Waleses are a formidable team, lighting up any event they enter.

Now, it is his turn to soothe and calm her, although he must be deeply worried.

“Having William by my side is a great source of comfort and reassurance too, as is the love, support and kindness that has been shown by so many of you. It means so much to us both,” she said.

The King was right to salute his daughter-in-law for her courage. Imagine what it takes to first tell your small children you have cancer and then tell the whole world.

She did it so naturally, so sweetly, with such great empathy for others with that cruel disease that no one could possibly guess what it cost her. But it cost her.

She has told George, Charlotte and Louis that Mummy is well, and getting better, but the only way she will make a full recovery is if she’s left alone as she completes her treatment.

Will the vultures listen? Will they give her the time she needs or go back pecking for more?

Millions of us are praying for the return to health of our wonderful Princess of Wales. She has all our support and love.

A Britain without her is unthinkable, unbearable. Take your time, Princess, take your time.

💙🌹💙

[comicaurora]

One thing I noticed is ever since MAWSM came out is how people in discussions have been decreasingly calling Clark "Superman" and now almost exclusively refer to him with his real name. Yeah, of course. He is Clark first and foremost. The farmboy from Smallville, Kansas; reporter at the Daily Planet. Superman is an extension of Clark. He's not like the other dude whose hero persona is his core identity. He's just a normal guy at heart who happens to be indestructible. He's just... Clark.

I think it's because until My Adventures With Superman, his primary cartoon presence was in series that were overtly superhero shows with threat-of-the-week formats, where Clark's life was the two-minute framing sequence around Superman getting to do the good stuff. Even the original Fleischer superman cartoon was ten-minute shorts that couldn't afford to go slice-of-life when they could be animating Superman punching a hole in a jet.

There have been little moments that hinted at this in other series - the Justice League episode Comfort and Joy springs to mind, being one of the only downtime episodes the team gets, where J'onn sees Clark back home on the farm with Ma and Pa Kent and is surprised at how relaxed and genuine he is when he isn't "working", aka "being superman." But for the most part Clark doesn't get that kind of personal focus, and the seasons that center on him are entirely about Superman's villains and the risk of Superman becoming a despot like his Justice Lord counterpart.

Live-action shows have been a little better about this, if only because of the SFX requirements of superman meaning it's cheaper and simpler to lean into Hometown Hero Clark Kent, exemplified in the series Smallville, which had an actual development policy that Clark was never allowed to put on the cape or costume. It started as teen drama where the protagonist just happened to have superpowers and a weird allergy to green rocks, and for a while it even had a similar gimmick to MAWS, where every other episode he developed a new power or discovered a new trait of his physiology that the audience was already expected to know about. But the problem there is that the audience also has the biggest point of dramatic irony hanging over their heads for the entire show - we know Clark's destiny is to become Superman. So while the show is ABOUT Clark, there's this tonal undercurrent that most of the messy things that make him Clark are things he'll eventually outgrow.

I think what's making My Adventures With Superman work is that it's (a) deeply sincere and (b) centered on the thesis that Clark is an emotional, vulnerable person AND ALSO a flying invulnerable brick with laser eyes, and his stress over his powers isn't just "aw it's tough to be a god now put on the tights already" but it's the very reasonable "I don't know why I'm like this, I don't understand what it means or if it's dangerous, I can't stop breaking the things I touch but I don't want to be alone."

Clark's isolation has always been something other characters muse about privately (usually Batman) or a bit of fridge logic he turns into a cool boast (the World of Cardboard speech reframing every fight he's ever been in by telling the audience he is 100% pulling his punches ALL THE TIME) but to my knowledge it's never been played for this deeply impactful and HIGHLY resonant "there is Something Wrong With Me that I don't have a name for but I will regardless find a way to live with myself and the people I love."

When Superman is framed as Clark's inevitable destiny, we lose sight of the fact that Clark is, by necessity, the kind of person who would create Superman.

[meowzfordayz]

they're-both-so-helpless

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Author’s Note: starting 2024 off w/ Kyojuro❣️ Began writing this while at work… winter makes for slow days when selling ice cream. 😆 Pt 2 coming ~soon aka prob within the next 24 hrs since my shift’s almost over lol.

emphasis-on-helpless, helplessly-in-love

Missing your boyfriend is tough… especially when he isn’t actually your boyfriend.

“He might as well be!” Mitsuri says whenever she’s with you, “I swear you check your phone at least twice as often ever since you became friends.” The tips of your ears warm, eyes glued to the newest Snap of Kyojuro’s cheerful face. “Will you at least show me?” Mitsuri huffs, head tilting to catch a glance, “Aww, he’s so cute!” “But he’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, quickly snapping a blurry photo of your melting ice cream. Eyes gleaming, Mitsuri hums knowingly, slinging a giddy arm around you without another word. You silently thank her gesture of respecting your privacy—something your other friend, Shinobu, rarely does—hurriedly eating a spoonful of your dessert as he snaps back: You got ice cream without me?! ☹️ I fear I am mortally wounded. 💔 You appease him with a Snap of your own frown, promising him i’ll bring u next time 🥺🍦 pointedly ignoring Mitsuri’s smooching noises when Kyojuro fires back with It’s a date! 😁😋 Sooo maybe nobody respects your privacy.

You’ve never considered yourself shy, but you have resigned yourself to being perpetually friendzoned, a bit too person-next-door in a would-never-date-their-neighbor way rather than a person-next-door who also is-totally-down-to-date-their-handsome-neighbor way. Like puffing out your chest while walking on the sidewalk to convey confidence and get people out of your path, you’ve mastered the art of giving off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes — despite desperately wanting to fuck.

And therein lies the problem-not-actually-a-problem with one Rengoku Kyojuro. Also known as, Mitsuri’s favorite barista. Also known as, immediately flirted with you when Mitsuri finally took you to his cafe for brunch, writing his number on your cup and everything. Also known as, might not have been flirting with you and in fact was just being nice because he has yet to properly-not-jokingly ask you on a real-official-non-platonic date. You’ve survived a blustery autumn of pumpkin spice lattes and too many free muffins, persevered through a surprisingly snug winter of It’s my special recipe hot chocolates and ice skating with the gang (Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and his insufferable friend Tengen), and felt wistfully hopeful as spring came and went, having your voice compared to blossoming flowers and your smile to tender sunshine… only to dream alone, his contagious grin and addictingly cozy hugs lingering even as you woke with the sensation of tears in your eyes.

—

“You should tell him how you feel!” Shinobu sighs, an exasperated, endeared sound as she watches you bemoan your adoration.

“Oh yeah, because he definitely feels the same after a year of literally zero signs!”

“He called your ice cream plans last week a date,” Mitsuri chimes in, rubbing your shoulders as she exchanges a they’re-both-so-helpless look with Shinobu.

“Platonically,” you shoot back, sagging into Mitsuri’s touch, “He’s so gentlemanly and sweet, I never know whether we’re flirting or he’s simply being polite! Friendly! A friend!”

“I repeat,” Shinobu deadpans, “Tell him how you feel.”

You pout, chewing on your upper lip as you mumble, “And if he doesn’t like me?”

“Nonsense!” Mitsuri declares brightly, squeezing you—Owww—a little too hard, “He doesn’t talk to anyone else like he talks to you.”

“I talk to you differently than I talk to Shinobu. Doesn’t mean anything,” you grumble.

“I’m trying to uplift you,” Mitsuri huffs, playfully pulling on your earlobe, “Trust us. Okay? He would absolutely date you if he knew you were interested in dating.”

“Since when have I said I’m not interested?!” you wail in dismay.

“You’ve never said you are interested,” Shinobu quips.

You scowl at her as she tosses a good natured pillow at you, Mitsuri clicking her tongue as you squish the pillow against your sternum, heart aching when your phone lights up Rengoku Kyojuro sent you a Snap • 🔥.

[twilightmalachite]

Esu Sagiri - Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Esu, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching… You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Cemetery

Second year of ES’ establishment. At a secret cemetery somewhere in Tokyo…

Subaru: (Dad.)

(I’m sorry I visited you so late this year as well.)

(I’m getting busier and busier year after year, you know? Although in Trickstar’s case, it’s more like there’s no leisure for the poor...)

(You wouldn't angry at that, would you though, Dad? ‘Cause you were much busier than I was, day in and day out.)

(Nothing could be done about that, though. You were a super idol who carried the industry on his shoulders, after all.)

(You never gave up, though. You never complained, and on holidays you would even be sure to come back home with a smile on your face just to make your family happy.)

(You sure are amazing, Dad. I’ve always admired you. And I’m now in the same position as you—I’ve become an idol.)

(As time passes, I’ve slowly realized more and more just how amazing a person you were.)

(It made me happy. It made me happy to be able to understand you, Dad.)

(Hey, Dad, I wonder if I’ve become an idol worthy of your praise.)

(If possible, I’d like to have you say “Wow, you’re amazing, Subaru!” if you were alive.)

(And I wish you could ruffle up my hair like I was a dog, just like you used to too, but…)

Esu: NwaaAAAAAAH!?

(thunk)

Subaru: …?

Hmm? Umm, are… you okay…?

Esu: Ah, It's okay, do not mind me! My arms are just outta shape, as it’s been a while since I’ve climbed! I bit off more than I could chew!

I took a dangerous route to get away from this creepy guy, and accidentally slipped from somewhere high—

Esu: —Wait, you’re Akehoshi SubaruuUUU!

Subaru: Yup. Huh, are you a fan of mine?

(This isn’t good. I didn’t really want my fans to know where my dad’s grave was.)

(Although his reputation’s been restored to an extent, there’s still a lot of anti-fans who believe those rumors and consider him the worst idol ever…)

(I don’t want that. What if his grave gets vandalized or something?)

Esu: Oh, no no! It’d be presumptuous for someone like myself to call myself a fan!

Presem… Presim, prisum… Huh, is “presumptuous” correct?!

Subaru: Yep, that’s it.

Esu: Was I right? Got it! Good, good, hip-hooray! I mean, that was very kind of you! This debt of gratitude will not be forgotten even if I am reborn seventeen times over!

Subaru: Seventeen times over, huh? What’s with that oddly specific number?

You’re a strange kid.

Esu: Huh, you think so? I find myself to be normal, though! Maybe I’ve become a little out of touch with the world after having been cooped up for a while?

If I do anything that feels off, do feel free to point anything out! I’ll correct it!

Subaru: Alright. Well to start, it’s looked down upon to cause a ruckus at gravesites.

Esu: You’re right~! My bad! I’ll quiet down! I’m a man who has often been told “You’re so cute when you keep your mouth shut, Esu-kun!” by his inconsiderate classmates!

Subaru: So your name’s Esu, huh?

Esu: Yes! I am Sagiri Esu! My name’s pretty tough to read, or excessively sparkly rather, so it’s okay if you don’t remember all of it![1]

You’re free to just call me something like “Ecchan” or “Sacchan”!

Subaru: Ecchan reminds me of Eichi-senpai. Sagiri—I feel like I might’ve heard “Sagiri” somewhere before…

Esu: Oh, so you recognize it? My father used to be real popular! He was even called a super idol at a point!

Subaru: Ah, that’s right! There was a super idol who showed up sometime between the times of Hokke~Papa—Hidaka Seiya-san and my dad, right?

His name was Sagiri. My dad said that he looked up to him, so I remember.

Esu: Ahaha~, although it was all downhill for him once the next super idol, Akehoshi-senpai’s father, made his appearance.

Subaru: Well, my dad did become the talk of the town for many things, both good and bad… Those from around that time aren’t talked about as much anymore, with Hokke~Papa being an exception.

It’s like it’s all been balled together as a dark past to be forgotten, thanks to all that’s happened.

So I dunno how things are now, but, umm you—Sacchan, what’s your father doing now?

He’s not active anymore… right? I feel I’d know about him if he were active.

Esu: Oh, my father died.

Subaru: …Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know…

Esu: Nah, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know! He passed away three years ago, and by the time he’d already turned over a new leaf as just an ordinary man.

Just an ordinary man, just with a bit of a nice-looking face.

Could at least look ugly… Wouldn't have to be followed around by that pervert then…

Subaru: Pervert? Had your father been targeted by some weird stalker or something, like mine was…?

Esu: No, no, this pervert has nothing to do with my father’s death. Sorry if I’m being difficult to follow! My communication skills aren’t all too great, after all! Just terrible!

My father died in a plane accident. Just a common—well, it’s not common, but an ordinary accident with nothing to do with idols or anything like that.

I was involved in the accident too, and although I managed to survive, I’ve been in the hospital up until recently. So, I've been in the process of rehabilitation for about six months, as of now.

Subaru: Is that so… I probably wouldn’t have even known three years ago. In the period before I entered high school, I would shut myself away from any and all information.

All of the information that would drift my way… I wouldn’t wanna hear any of it.

Esu: I totally get you~. It feels like anything and everything is an attack on you when your heart is weak, doesn’t it?

Even though nobody in the world probably spares a single thought about you.

Ah, but you’re an idol, Akehoshi-senpai, so tons and tons of people pay attention to you, of course! I was really moved by the SS from two years back![2]

It was like—and sorry if this sounds disrespectful—but your father also passed away… I felt like I could relate with you in some ways.

Like, “Ahh, this person, he’s me.”

Subaru: … …

Esu: At the time, I understood the expression on your face, your voice, everything, as if they were my own—I empathized! I was no longer able to distinguish between you and I!

I was in the hospital, lying in bed watching your performance, and I cried so hard that even the nurses became seriously worried about me.

Esu: Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching…

You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai. So, I thought you were real amazing—

Esu: Ahh, I can’t find the right words! Hang in there, my vocabulary!

Subaru: It’s okay. I understand you.

Thank you. For watching my performance.

You cried in place of me, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why I didn’t have to show a shameful sight like that upon such an important stage.

So… I know it sounds weird, but thank you. Really.

Esu: Oh no no, I seriously didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to do being shown gratitude like this?!

Oh, shoot!? I hear Fuyume’s voice! He hates exercise and isn’t all that good at it either, but caught up to me through sheer determination…!

I-I’m so sorry, but I gotta go now! It’s over for me if I’m caught!

Subaru: It kinda feels like you’re in danger… Do you need me to hide you?

Esu: Ah, that’s very kind of you, but I’m alright! This is a problem I gotta resolve on my own…!

But if you’d like, do offer some incense at the grave over there, the one decorated with cutesy goods.

That one’s my father’s grave.

Subaru: Right. This cemetery is for those in the industry that need to be kept secret from the general public. Both your father and my dad rest here.

It was through some sort of fate I was able to meet you, and hear your words that made me happy, so… Yeah, I’ll be sure to offer some incense.

Esu: Thanks! I’m sure our fathers are happy too! It doesn’t seem like they were on good terms when they were alive, but everyone becomes a Buddha when they die, right?[3]

I’m sure all those concerns and karma have been thoroughly purified!

—Eek, his voice is getting closer! Maaan, I wanted to have a nice and quiet visit to his grave after all this time!

But, well, I also caused a ruckus for no reason, and disturbed Akehoshi-senpai’s visit to his grave! That makes it sort of a mutual karmic retribution, right!—kinda?

Subaru: It’s fine. My dad always liked it when things were lively.

I’m sure he’s standing beside your father, watching over with a smile on their faces—over us.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A sparkly name (キラキラネーム) is a term that refers to a recent phenomenon of giving names that are over-extravagant and notably very difficult to read. Esu's name is written with the kanji 笑主, which is both very unrecognizable as a name (it uses the kanji for laugh/smile + the kanji for lord/master), the reading is also very unnatural. The phenomenon is similar to the one where people will name their babies stuff like "Mhackenzeigh" or "Lakynn". Since knowing that 笑主 is read as "Esu" doesn't come instinctively, it would be difficult to remember; hence Esu saying there's no need to remember it all.

Referring to the SS where Trickstar won, back in ! era. If you aren’t aware of what happens to Subaru and Trickstar during the event, I highly recommend reading SS - Friendship 14 until the end of the event story, else this entire scene won’t make as much sense.

Esu uses a lot of Buddhist terminology here. If you’re familiar with the idea of reaching enlightenment, once you reach enlightenment, you let go of all worldly possessions, realizations, attainments, and achievements. This is what is referred to when one becomes a Buddha.

[theadhddimsenion]

Some theories and predictions on m&m going forward.

I do believe that for whatever reason or reasons whether it be one or both of them worrying about being a parent and what that will me for them and their relationship, millie being unsure of whether or not wants to keep it, millies fears of her husband not liking whatever decision she makes, the dangers that the child could be in due to their line of work and how their grandfather would be *cough* crimson *cough*. Or something else the baby will be the cause of m&m first major multi episode conflict. I know not everyone is going to appreciate m&m not being the perfect couple for even a three episode mini arc but just here me out on this. They m&m couple are newlyweds and they haven't really been through the real muck of a relationship that happens but can you tell me who both of them might know who has plenty of experience with relationship troubles? If you guessed blitz buckso you get a gold star 🌟!! This would be a great way to show how much blitz has changed and actually have his many failed relationships actually work out in his favor because if stolitz can have a healthy relationship after everything they been through then a couple as lovely dovey as m&m are going to be just fine.

Millies pregnancy and her love of her job is going to conflict. She definitely loves being an assassin the most out of all of them but if she has to be a mother than she has to give up that part of her life that she loves. Maybe they could even add some more drama with blitzs descion to turn the company into a body guard service which only stolas and moxxie like. Perhaps between millies growing anxieties about being replaced and forced into a role she doesn't like she sneaks out to go on a mission of her own only to find that it's a trap set by a vengeful Ronaldo (and blind because his eyes melted) and Ronaldo Is all "well, well, well not so tough now are you hick!? What's the matter I thought my words didn't mean shit to you!?! AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" but he is for good by blitz and a band if real ghosts he fucked. At the end of the episode blitz immediately knows something is wrong when millie doesn't respond to his teasing about her being wrong about ghosts and in a sence mirroring ghost fuckers ending the rest of the team all give her reassurance that they will always need her and the big part is when moxxie tells her he will always love her regardless of whether or not she wanted a family.

Another potential sencario is that like before millie is out on a mission that turns out to be a trap. But rather than by Ronaldo both millie and loona are defeated and captured by crimson due to millies pregnancy throwing her off her game and loonas lack of experience in the field. Crimson who has hired striker once again but this time is giving the cowimp a lot more snark than before due to him being a blatant sellout and kinda useless and the only reason he hired him was because blitz and his crew where the ones they were fighting so he couldn't exactly get them on his payroll.

Crim uses both loona and millie as both bait and a barging chip mentioning millies child in his ransom tape and telling both blitz and moxxie that they could either surrender themselves to be killed or their loved ones die. At first everything is going in crimsons favor seemingly like moxxie has fully surrendered but that's when blitz comes out of nowhere and springs the plan moxxie had come up with (note this will be another big moment between blitz and moxxie as for the first time blitz let's the little possum make the plan noting that he is generally the better strategist when he pulls his head out of his frequently pegged ass). This shows that moxxie is a far better imp than his farther ever was because despite moxxies reputation as a coward and a weakling he has proven he is far more capable than most people give him credit for and what has his father done? When's the last time crimson ever did any of his dirty work himself? You all saw the way he cowered when millie slaughtered his thugs. I am willing to bet money that despite what he claims crimson is a pathetic coward who would surrender the moment he had no one else to do his dirty work for him, moxxie may not be the most outright strong or forward of demons but he was never the type to force others to do what he couldn't and crimson doesn't exactly look like he was made for any kind of direct combat, the only person he could physically overcome was his own son from a young age and I bet that he couldn't even take his own wife had she given him a serious fight. All this is to say that this is moxxies biggest moment to shine as both a charater and a fighter he ends up finshing crimson off by drowning him in the same like his mother drowned in and he gets to be the one to save his wife this time around and he gets to do by playing to his strengths rather than trying to be something he isn't.

And as a bonus my man blitz gets so badass charater development as well getting to save his daughter and bond with moxxie. Another thing I like about this idea is that it shows that the girls aren't mentally and physically invincible. What I mean by that is that so far we have only seen millie fail a few times and we haven't seen loona fail once and it wouldn't seem fair to me if they kept the girls as the perfect warriors and therapists for the entire series when they clearly aren't. Bltiz, moxxie and stolas have been shown as the flawed and often failing people they are many times and I feel that having millie and loona go through similar treatment is only fair. Actually that gives me another idea as to give moxxie and loona some more character development in this theoretical episode. Having loona be captured doesn't just show she isn't invincible and gives blitz to go full Papa wolf for her but it also gives a way for moxxie and loona to bond. Loona failing her first official mission would and being saved by "fatty" would be the perfect opportunity for moxxie to rub it in her face and get her back for all the shit she gave him but moxxie gets to be mature and simply helps her up telling her that he wasn't going to give her shit for failing cause that's not what friends do. With this loona and moxxie finally get to bury the hatchet and really ties up moxxies story nicely.

[bullet-prooflove]

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it...

"Seasons Change"

Maybe about Lassiter? (because I love how you write him). 🥺🤍

Tagging: @elefrog25-blog  @ineedbrainbleach  @secretsquirrelinc  @kmc1989

It’s spring and you’ve been Carlton’s partner for almost six months by now. The two of you have fallen into an easy rhythm, you work well together but it bothers him a little that he barely knows a damn thing about you.

“You are far too closed off.” He tells you in the midst of a stake out. “We’ve been partners for months and I don’t even know your first name. I’ve had to resort to calling you Bunny.”

“You’re one to talk.” You retort as you take a sip from your coffee cup. “Everything I know about you is surface level.”

He pauses then because he thinks that can’t be right but then he thinks back through all of his own liaisons since the separation, how he avoids the personal questions, immerses himself in his work. It’s the only thing he allows himself to talk about because anything else leaves him feeling too vulnerable, too raw. He’s never thought of himself as warm and cuddly but it isn’t until now that he realises he comes off as cold.

“Not cold.” You correct him with the shrug of your shoulders. “Just not forthcoming.”

“I can be forthcoming.” He snaps back at you because honesty he’s feeling a little wounded. He had no idea until this very moment how much he’d shut down, his defensive he’s become. “It’s you who has the problem.”

“OK then let’s play a game.” You say, setting your reuseable coffee cup down on the dashboard before turning your entire attention towards him. His breath catches in his throat because those eyes, they get him everytime. “You get real with me and I’ll get real with you.”

He loosens his tie then because it’s about to get all real up in here. He peppers you with questions and you volley them back like a tennis player in a semifinals match.

He discovers you like watching the sunset on the beach after a tough case because it reminds you that there’s beauty in the world. You left LA because your ex husband told you he didn’t love you anymore. You had just stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even have a towel wrapped around you when he told you that he was leaving you. You have an odd fascination with lighthouses, you don’t know why but you’ve always liked them, it’s one of the reasons you moved to Santa Barbara.

“You moved here because of a lighthouse?” He questions you, because if that isn’t the most impulsive thing he’s ever heard, he doesn’t know what is.

“The day after it happened, I just got in my car and decided to take a drive. There was too much stuff going on and I needed to think. I ended up here, parked outside the lighthouse and in that moment I just knew it was going to be ok.” You tell him, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a small smile. “My life was falling apart and I don’t know, just being there, it gave me a sense of peace amongst all the chaos.”

“I could have done with somewhere like that.” He says, shaking his head as he leans back into his seat. “Those first few months of the separation were rough, I didn’t think I’d make it…”

The words slip out before he means them to and he realises the enormously of what he’s just revealed. He never thought of himself as suicidal, not really but there were nights when he sat in that crappy apartment cleaning his gun wondering what it would feel like to pull the trigger, if it would drown out all the anguish he felt, the noise in his head.

Your hand comes to rest on his and he stares down at it surprised.

“There were times back in LA, that I thought about just walking into the sea. I would imagine the water coming up to my hips, my chest, my neck, the current just taking me…”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He says quietly, his fingers entwining with yours. “Seasons change, the winter doesn’t feel so bad once the spring sets in.”

If that isn’t a summary of the past six months of your life that you don’t know what is.

“Yea.” You say softly as your gaze meets his. “I can’t imagine what the summer will bring.”

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