#we only got one in our second one but it lasted fucking forever

[chisatowo]

Dst farming is just farming happily with no worries in the world and then the horrors (carrotpocalypse)

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay, so this is a little inspired by @dazzle02's post right here. Enjoy! 🥰

"Let me move in with you," said Evan.

And.

And Tommy looked up at Evan.

Blinking.

There wasn't anything particularly special about tonight. Neither of them had that bad of a shift the day before, all things considered. It was after dinner. They were both in pajamas watching Shark Week. Besides Shark Week, there wasn't anything life-altering or important that would have made Tommy remember this lazy Thursday night.

But then again, something amazing always happened with Evan around.

Life-altering was Evan's modus operandi.

They met when Tommy was flying them into a hurricane. They got together after Evan maimed one of his best friends. Their second official date was at a last-minute hospital wedding when the original wedding had been canceled.

Dating Evan was nothing Tommy had ever experienced before.

And Tommy never wanted to stop.

"What?" Tommy laughed, not sure if he heard that right.

He was staring up at Evan. His head was in Evan's lap and Evan just - he kept playing with the curls in Tommy's hair; staring down at Tommy like he never wanted to look away from Tommy as he said, "Let me move in with you."

And it harkened back to that beer Evan still owed Tommy.

That Tommy was never going to let Evan give him. No, Tommy loved the idea of still being tied like that. To forever joke about the beer Evan still owed him.

"You want to move in with me?" asked Tommy.

And it wasn't that Tommy was against it. The moment Evan brought it up, all Tommy wanted to say was yes, yes, of course, Evan, yes.

But.

They had only been dating maybe four months at this point. Tommy wasn't against the breakneck pace Evan seemed the most comfortable in, but at the same time, that was a big decision. And that wasn't to say that Tommy didn't believe that Evan would want this, but it was always good to be absolutely sure.

"You've got a kickass garage. You've got the best beer in town. I heard a beast lives here. Why wouldn't I want to too?" asked Evan.

"Evan."

"Tommy."

Tommy snorted.

"Tommy, I hate my loft. I hate my fucking loft. I got it with my girlfriend Aly because she liked it, and then she almost immediately broke up with me. I haven't been able to decide on a damn couch in that place. I don't know why I have two balconies," said Evan, "But none of that is even why I'm offering this."

Tommy laughed.

"Offering?"

"Tommy, I - I miss you," said Evan with all his heart; a little broken.

Tommy reached out; placed a hand on Evan's cheek.

"Evan. I'm right here," said Tommy softly.

"I miss you when I wake up and you hadn't slept over. I miss you when I try out a new dish and you're not there to taste-test it. I miss seeing you just randomly reading Chef's Choice or The Dos and Donuts of Love or - or How to Find a Princess or Better Than People or The State of Us on your couch whenever I walk into your house with the key you gave me. I miss the lavender you insist on making your house smell like. I miss you when I get in my car and realize we won't be carpooling. That you won't insist on driving and I won't get to play you music as we start our drive early so we can take a scenic way to my work or yours. I just miss you. All the time. I want to fucking live in your pocket. Which is a lot. I know. But I want that. I want you. And I'm so sure you want that too."

And.

And okay, if they were being honest.

"Evan, I - I wake up and it feels empty if you're not here. If you're not sprawled on top of me when I wake up. If you're not laughing and insisting that we take a shower together. That if we do, we'll be saving water. Despite the fact that you know full well that it takes double the time with how distracted we get. I miss you when I walk up to my coffee maker and you're not there to play the 'guess how Tommy takes his coffee' game that I think you're failing on purpose at this point - "

"No, I'm not," said Evan like a liar.

"Oh, I know you are," laughed Tommy, "But I kind of love that because it's still fun. And I miss you when you're not there to get into my Mustang with that jerry-rigged contraption of yours that somehow forces Bluetooth to work on my stereo. And how you keep showing me all these new and amazing songs I never would have dreamed of finding on my own."

"People are sleeping on Kehlani," said Evan.

"Yeah. I know," agreed Tommy, "And - and I miss you when I don't get to kiss you goodbye and hear you say you'll see me after your shift. And I miss you when you're not there to pick me up or if I'm not there to pick you up and you kiss me hello and ask how my day was and tell me all about yours. And I'm not saying we need to be glued together. But I am saying that every moment I get with you makes my whole day better. My week. My month. My year. My life. And, uh. I don't know, maybe you owe me moving into my house."

Evan laughed.

"Oh, I owe you now, huh?"

"I mean, you offered. Pay up. Move in."

Evan laughed harder, leaning down to kiss Tommy. And it was an awkward angle, and the kiss was a bit messy, but it left Tommy breathless; left Tommy swimming in overwhelming yes.

"Okay. I guess I'm moving in," said Evan happily, his smile soft and so excited.

"Yeah, you are," said Tommy as he pulled Evan back into another mind-blowing kiss.

[veganineden]

On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”

A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2

One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?

In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 

So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 

My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 

If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 

Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 

Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 

You know who does?

Aziraphale. 

And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 

In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.

I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 

Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”

So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 

And most likely a cottage. 

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

 - Maya Angelou

Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), vomit, *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Since coming home, I had been sitting on the bedroom floor for what seemed like hours. I had done nothing since I had returned home. I had disassociated as soon as I hit the door. Today was only adding to the mess that my life had become. I received the dreaded phone call from my doctor's office early this morning. He said I would need to return immediately for surgery, a surgery that would possibly change my life forever.

My mind was all over the place, and all I wanted was Terry. My Terry. He would know how to help me get through this. I just had to explain everything to him and lay it all on the table. He deserved upfront honesty since this news would affect him, too. It would affect the life we wanted and planned to have.

I had come to the South to spend time with him because I needed to rest. Too much has happened over the last month. I had lost my job because my health was deteriorating rapidly. I was still fighting in court with my mother over the money my aunt left me. After the last storm, my apartment had a severe water leak, so I had to move in with my godmother and godsister on the West Coast. Luckily, we stayed in the same city.

When the doctor called today, I had tried my best to prepare for the news I already knew. The doctor said he found something during the original exam, leading to a biopsy, ultrasound, and MRI. The results from those were even worse.

As I was anxiously waiting, my heart was beating out of my chest again, and I could feel the growing lump in my throat. My body was getting hot, and I wasn't even remembering to breathe. I loathed this feeling. The feeling of anxiety overtaking my body without my permission. Not again. Not now. Not at the one moment where I needed to talk without panicking and rushing through my words. Of course, anxiety had to make an appearance.

I lay on my back in the middle of our bedroom floor and crossed my arms around my body as if I were hugging myself. “Breathe, Bella. Breathe,” I said inhaling and exhaling sharply. Every inhale felt like there were razor blades in my lungs. Oh, no.

I leaned on my elbows and quickly scanned the room for my purse. I needed my phone so that I could at least text Terry. I couldn't breathe right now so talking wasn't an option. The tears in my eyes were begging to be released. I held them in as best as I could. “Don't cry, Bella. Don't. Please, don't,” I said to myself holding my head back forcing the tears to retreat slightly.

My purse was behind me thrown against the master bathroom door. I turned over and crawled towards my handbag. I grabbed the strap of my crossbody and pulled it towards me. Sitting on my knees with the purse in my hands, I flipped it upside down and dumped out all of its contents. My wallet, lip gloss, compact mirror, lip liner, coins, crumpled cash, receipts from today, and phone all thudded onto the floor ahead of me.

I grabbed my phone but instantly dropped it as a sharp pain shot through my chest like lightning. The pain lasted mere seconds but was enough to break me. The tears that I was holding in were now streaming down my face. I was bawling my eyes out through ragged breaths. Fuck. I grabbed the phone from the floor and searched for Terry's number through blurred vision. I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. My eyes took painfully long to come back into focus enough for me to make out the letter T at the beginning of a contact. Luckily, I recently messaged him, so I clicked on the thread. I could see the heart I sent Terry earlier as the last message. I quickly tried to calm my breathing a little more and sent Terry a text. It only told him to come home ASAP.

My eyes were beginning to sting, and my sight was blurring again. I waited for at least a few minutes before looking down at the phone again. No response. I was panicking, so I sent a copy of the same text multiple times hoping to alert him to my current state of distress.

“Please, Terry. Save me. I need you,” I thought to myself. I looked up at the ceiling. I needed him to at least call me. Just a call. He would hear my voice and know. That's all I need right now. I waited and still nothing. I decided to call Terry myself. Two rings, then I was sent to voicemail. No way. He didn't just decline and ignore my call. He never does that.

I clutch my hand to my chest and breathe out through my mouth. I call him once again. Same result — voicemail. I sent another text. This one told him I was having an anxiety attack. I put the phone beside me. I repositioned myself in a hunched-over position with my forehead touching the carpet. I was praying that Terry would call.

*3 hours later

I had managed to get on the bed. I didn't even remember moving or falling asleep. I was just so out of touch with reality currently, disassociated and detached. I awoke to my entire body aching. I leaned up on the bed and slid to the bottom edge. My head was pounding, and the feeling was making me nauseous. The room seemed to be spinning. Trying to calm myself again, I sat there for a moment.

I knew I looked like shit. My phone was still on the floor. “Shit!” I yelled. I went into an instant panic. What if Terry called, and I missed it? What if he texted while I was in such a deep sleep? I slid down the edge of the bed letting my butt thud to the floor. I reached for the phone bringing it to my chest. I hoped that I hadn't missed him.

I unlocked my phone to see no missed calls and no new messages. What the fuck? That couldn't be right. I checked that I had service and hadn't accidentally turned on DND or airplane mode. Nope, I hadn't done either. This wasn't right. Terry would have at least texted me back.

I rushed to get up from the floor with the phone still in my hand. I headed out into the hall to see if Terry was inside. “Baby? Terry? Are you here?” I yelled walking into the living room. It was empty and so was the kitchen. I walked towards the large bay window in the living room and peered out. His truck wasn't there either. Where was he?

I tried to call Terry again. Now, it was going straight to voicemail. I left a brief message asking for him to come home and let him know about the panic attack. I hung up, and I sent a message again.

Now, I was starting to worry. This wasn't like him. Was he hurt? Was he in jail? Admittedly, Terry does sometimes have a bit of a temper.

Immediately, I tried calling his father. It rang and rang. He picked up and answered in his usual manner. “Jed speaking,” he said. “Hi, have you seen Terry? I've been trying to reach him for hours,” I said rushing out every word. “Whoa, slow down. I haven't talked to him since this morning, baby girl. Let me ask Linda. Linda! Linda!” he yelled away from the phone. I could hear her answer from the other room. “Ya’ talked to Terry since mornin’?!” he yelled back. I could overhear her respond “No”. “I'm sorry, baby. Neither of us have heard from him. I do know that he went downtown to see if he could get some more help for Mike,” he said. “Mike?” I asked confused. “Yeah,” he started, “Them folks decided to keep him, and Terry is supposed to be going to get him out.”

“I knew about Mike gettin’ locked up, but that's ‘bout it. Terry hasn't said much,” I said putting the pieces together. “Well, that's ‘bout all I know. If we hear from him we'll tell him to call you. M’kay?” he said. “Yes, sir,” I said before ending the call.

I was too afraid to leave the house because I wanted to be there if Terry returned. I sat down on the couch and waited in silence. I was checking my phone every minute for any new calls or messages. Nothing.

I had been waiting for at least an hour in complete silence on the couch when my phone rang. I saw Terry's name on the screen and immediately answered it. “Baby—!” I started to speak. “Bella, can you chill?” Terry barked through the other end. I paused for a second. “Terry, I was worr—,” I tried to speak again. “The hell did you call my parents for? I'm trying to figure out all this shit with Mike. Give me a fucking break. Will you?” he yelled. “I understand that now, but Terry—,” I said before hearing him hang up.

I couldn't believe it. He had yelled at me and hung up on me. What the hell? I wasn't aware of the severity or urgency of Mike's situation. It wasn't like Terry was telling me anything. This was one of the biggest issues in our relationship. Communication between us wasn't always the best or healthiest. In stressful moments, I found it hard to express myself in any capacity, and Terry barely talked at all. I just really needed to talk to him about the call I received from the doctor.

Then again, maybe I was being too overbearing. He needed to focus on Mike, right? You know what? I just needed to relax. Breathe and fucking relax. Terry just needed space. He would come home, we would talk, and everything would be fine. There was no need to make this situation worse than it was.

I waited for another hour. I was lying on the couch and cuddled under my blanket. I had started dozing off when I heard the door open. I jumped up to see Terry walking through the door. His face was filled with anger, and his nostrils were flared. He was pissed.

I sat back down. The worst thing to do was bother Terry when he was this angry. He rushed through the house and stormed to the bedroom. He didn't even acknowledge my presence or notice me sitting there. As much as I wanted to console him, I knew better. If I bothered him right now, he would retreat and leave. That was the worst possible outcome for me.

I went into the kitchen to at least try to find something to cook. I searched the fridge and found thawed steaks. I placed them on the counter beside the stove along with a bell pepper and onion. I searched the cabinets for an appropriate side and settled for boxed mac-and-cheese. I wanted to cook something soon, so we would have a reason to sit and talk.

*1 hour later

The food was done, but Terry was nowhere to be found. I sulked towards the bedroom. I knew this was going to go one of two ways. Either Terry was calmed down, or he was still a raging bull. I stood at the bedroom door. I reluctantly opened it and peered inside. “Terry,” I called out from the doorway. My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Terry,” I said a little louder. “What?!” he barked from the closet.

I jumped at the sound of his voice. He was still pissed. I lightly closed the door trying my hardest not to aggravate him any further. “Food’s ready. I made steak and—,” I said before he rushed out from the closet. “I'm not eating. I got shit to do, Bell!” he yelled walking towards his side of the bed. He leaned over and picked up his backpack and duffel bag from the floor. Panic took over my face.

“Terry, are you leaving to go somewhere?” I asked moving closer to him. “The hell does it look like? I'm leaving tonight,” he said placing clothes into the duffel. “Wait! I need to talk to you,” I said reaching for his arm. “Not now. I got to be there by Thursday afternoon to get Mike,” he said snatching his arm away from me. “Can you leave tomorrow afternoon? Anytime aft—,” I whimpered. Terry's eyes shot upward at me. “Don't fucking start. I already told you Mike was in some shit!” he snapped coming towards me. “But you never said—,” I said backing away.

This wasn't Terry. This wasn't my Terry. This wasn't the Terry who had never yelled at me, who never cursed at me, who even in my fits of anger calmed me down. Who was this?

“I get that you're upset, but I got a call from the doctor's office today. Remember, the tests they ran?” I asked trying my hardest not to cry. Tears were forming, but I refused to let them fall. I needed to stay strong. “Just stop for a second,” I said walking up to Terry and placing my hand on his chest. “What now, huh? What is it that can't possibly wait?” he asked. His face had turned into a scowl and his eyes had narrowed in annoyance. If I didn't think this man still loved me, I would label this a look of pure disgust and hate.

I was trying my hardest to just say it, but I knew it was too delicate of a matter. Terry was too far gone. This wasn't something you blurt out in a fit of rage or frustration. A panicked and rushed speech wouldn't suffice here. This was something so delicate that even the smallest detail needed to be discussed carefully. So, I decided to hold my tongue.

“Nevermind. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you la—” I said removing my hand from his chest. I could feel his heart racing. Maybe, at this moment, he needed me more than I needed him. “So, what's your plan? Are you just going to bail him out and bring him back with you?” I asked earnestly trying to find some sense of familiarity in his eyes, but I couldn't. With that, I buried every emotion I was carrying so that I could give Terry my full attention. “No, I plan on staying for a while. I got other shit to sort out besides just the shit with Mike,” he said turning away from me. “Wait, what? When will you be back?” I asked. “I don't fucking know!” he snapped again. “Terry, I'm only asking,” I said lowering my head. This conversation was quickly going downhill. “How am I supposed to tell you what I don't know, Bell? It may be a few weeks. Hell, it may be a month,” he said continuing to pack his duffel.

“Terry, I need you before then. I need you here tomorrow. The doctor's going to be calling me back. And I—,” I said twiddling my fingers. I hadn't even noticed that I was pacing on my side of the room. I stopped to look at Terry and tried to just say it. “There's something wrong, and he wants me back by—,” I said sniffling. Terry ceased his movements and looked up at me. The look on his face shook me to my core. Hate was inscribed as the only visible emotion. His eyes had darkened, his nostrils were flared, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to accentuate the veins from his temples.

“There's always something wrong with you. All the fuckin' time! It's always about you!” he yelled. His voice thundered through the room. Every word pierced my heart like a bullet. I stood frozen in shock. The man who promised to never hold my health against me had done exactly that.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through my body. There was now a sour taste in my mouth as my saliva grew thick. My hands were now shaking, and my legs felt like they would give out at any moment. I rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I instantly felt the vomit rising from my belly. I hovered over the toilet. I spewed up nothing but bile due to having an empty stomach. The acid scorched my throat and flooded out of my nostrils. Every breath I took burned my nose and throat. This felt minuscule compared to the words Terry just said to me.

I dropped to my knees and kneeled before the toilet. The vomit wouldn't stop coming. I held myself up by placing my hands on the edge of the toilet. I was bawling silently. My chest was heaving up and down rapidly. The tears began to pour freely and landed on the toilet seat. I snatched a wad of tissue paper from the roll and wiped my face.

I tossed the tissue into the toilet and closed the lid. I flushed it and slumped back onto the side of the tub. The cold porcelain was hard and uncomfortable against my bare skin. My adrenaline was all over the place, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and dropped my head. Hanging low and uneasy, my head felt heavy against my legs.

Calm down, Bella. Calm down.

I was lost. I was hurt. I was angry. I was overwhelmed. I was exhausted. Worst of all, I felt alone. He was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Now, I felt like my life was ending here. He had crushed me without even knowing it. His face and actions showed no sliver of empathy or remorse. How would we ever come back from this? Better yet, could we?

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh

A/N²: You will learn what the illness is in part 2. Stay tuned!

[sinofwriting]

listen, please - Daniel Ricciardo

Words: 316 Summary: Daniel and his girlfriend break the news of their relationship and cause quite a splash with their age difference. (Social Media AU + Blurb) (Olivia Rodrigo as faceclaim and uses her music for reader’s)

Masterlist | Support Me! | listen, please verse

yourusername

liked by dan_nigro, etnews, landonorris, and 548,752 others tagged: danielricciardo yourusername: I learned from my mistakes and finally listened to them. And thank god they were right about you.

view all comments

danielricciardo: forever happy they were ⤷ yourusername: ♥️ user01: excuse me??? user02: Uh what? user03: I’m sorry, Daniel??? What are you doing here??? user04: When did this happen? user05: honey, no. he’s in his 30s user06: well, already counting the days for this ending user07: this is going to last all of a month user08: yourusername please, no. Taylor went through this already. Learn from her mistakes!!! user09: Am I the only one picking up on the lyrics from Vampire? We stan using our own lyrics to announce a relationship user10: can’t wait for Dear John yourusername’s version. Gonna be a bop. ⤷ user05: I will sob if she covers that or would’ve could’ve should’ve when this ends. ⤷ user11: will simply die user12: i’m an f1 girlie, but no. This ain’t it. Mick Schumacher is right there, yourusername. Or even Oscar. ⤷ user13: Lando is right there and you went for the nepo baby and a guy who already has a girlfriend ⤷ user12: he was an example! And nearly all the drivers are nepo babies in some way. ⤷ user03: so true user14: how are you going to be such a big swiftie, know the woman yourself and still date a man older than you and believe it’s going to work out?

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, f1_wags, redbullracing, and 149,875 others tagged: yourusername danielricciardo: Over a year with this one and many more to come, Sweets

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yourusername: so many more to come ⤷ danielricciardo: 😉 maxverstappen1: never seen you happier ⤷ danielricciardo: love ya maxie! user01: first daniel isn’t racing and now he’s taken??? 2023 is the worst user02: daniel, she’s practically a child. What are you doing? user03: weirdo user04: she’s barely 20, what are you doing??? ⤷ user06: yourusername is 22. She’s not barely 20 ⤷ user04: yeah and she turned 22 like barely a month ago user05: Daniel, not like this. I beg user07: well him and pierre have something in common 😆 user08: she’s a baby!!! Get away from her!!! user09: disgusting. Absolutely disgusting user10: you guys are acting like she’s not an adult??? She’s literally in her twenties. ⤷ user04: and he’s in thirties. It’s fucking weird. user11: jail, sir. You go to jail now.

f1_wags

liked by user01, user02, user03, and 2,451 others tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo f1_wags: New WAG Alert! Daniel Ricciardo just announced his relationship with Y/N, a three time grammy winner and musician.

comments are disabled

yourusername

liked by dr3wines, zedd, charlesleclerc, and 462,345 others tagged: danielricciardo, dr3wines yourusername: Congrats on the new wine, Danny! Little sad that it will no longer be for just us and our baths together, but happy to see it be shared.

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danielricciardo: thank ya, sweets. danielricciardo: girl in the second picture is absolutely gorgeous danielricciardo: bath tonight? I’ve still got a few bottles ⤷ yourusername: I’ll always want a bath with you user01: why is his face on my feed user02: throwing up at their comments user03: well, this made me feel incredibly single charlesleclerc: another great wine. Thank you for convincing him to let me try it before the launch! ⤷ yourusername: of course!

user04: leave him!!!! He’s using you for free promo of his wine!!! user05: taylor must be pissed!

taylorswift

liked by yelyahwilliams, taylorlautner, yourusername and 2,873,421 others tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo taylorswift: Was a pleasant surprise to see these two when I stepped off stage tonight. Lovely to see you guys and will see you again for dinner next week!

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yourusername: not a single better performer. Watching is you magic every single time. And dinner will be fun! danielricciardo: amazing show! user01: taylor??? user02: i’m sorry what user03: my 2023 bingo card is in shambles user04: living rn. all of you fuckers were saying that taylor was disappointed and now look. She knew before we did user05: some many clowns staying silent in these comments user06: i was at this show!!! Wyd mean that yourusername was there?

daniel3.jpg

liked by landonorris, f1_wags, sourandguts, and 187,392 others tagged: yourusername daniel3.jpg: my two favorite subjects: you and us

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landonorris: do you two do anything but take baths for date night? ⤷ daniel3.jpg: we do. Just like our baths y’know user01: um, i’m sorry. But that last photo user02: lando is so real. This is the second bath photo we’ve gotten ⤷ user03: i don’t want that water bill user04: gross user05: how do you feel comfortable posting this with how young she is? ⤷ user01: you’re acting like she’s a kid. She’s in her twenties. Fuck off user06: am i supposed to just act like i don’t know now that daniel likes car sex??? ⤷ user03: i’m doing my best to not think about it user07: daniel, thank you for feeding us.

—

Daniel could feel his grin grow, eyes softening, and his shoulders loosening all at the sound of her name. It takes him a moment to register the question, but when he does his grin grows more.

“I wasn’t really expecting it, you know? But she’s just great, I mean absolutely fantastic.” “And the age difference isn’t an issue?” The reporter presses, though more gently than expected. He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, not all. We want the same things in life and we both have very similar timelines for when we want them. We talked about all of that before we even went on a date and us wanting the same things, just helped finally take the next step.”

“And has the backlash affected you two at all?” “No.” Daniel smiles at the confused look the reporter gives him, letting out a chuckle. “We knew it was going to cause a splash. We’ve never ignored the age difference between us. It’s there and ignoring it wouldn’t do anything.” He pauses, “I understand why people are so concerned, there is a history of large age gaps not being great. But there’s also a history of them working out great, I’ve got plenty of examples in my personal life. Besides, it's not really the age difference that matters, it’s where you're at in life and what you want to come next. We just happen to be in the same place and want the same things to come next.”

The reporter is looking at him stunned before they finally manage to find their voice. “Thank you, Daniel.” “Of course, cheers mate.” He winks, before throwing up a hand to wave at the camera before he jogs off, already knowing that he’ll have a text or two from her calling him a sap over his lovesick grin. And he’d hate to not see them as soon as they came in.

[writingstoraes]

lover 🪻

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!singer!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this is another thing i thought of knowing i have hundreds of unattended drafts lolol lmk what u think! this is like very similar to something i've posted before but only w a slightly different ending... hehe also am using mother taylor's lyrics cause they're just too good

about: you and charles seem to be really quiet, it's either one of two things — you're over or you're about to release a masterpiece that shatters all break up rumors.

wagsoff1

liked by wannabewag, norrisfan, hamilec, and 25,439 others

wagsoff1 It has been 100 days since Y/N was seen in the paddock. Her last appearance was during the 2023 Australian GP. Any thoughts? 👀

leclercsainz yeah honestly the two of them have been really quiet lately... i'm scared

ynfan this is such a reach? 😬

lecsyn4eva are we forgetting that y/n has her own career, a pretty successful one at that, it's normal for her to not be at races at times?

wagsoff1 Hmm yeah but she's missed a ton of races, apparently rumors are only ever growing that they might be over... lecsyn4eva maybe we stop sticking our noses where it doesn't belong ����

queenyn MOTHER WE MISS YOU pls come back

sainzstappen Classic pattern of broken up F1 couples lol miss a few races then suddenly statements are out 😆

popgirlstm stop i will literally jump off a bridge

yourusername

liked by zendaya, florencepugh, landonorris, and 2,340,923 others

yourusername At every table, I'll save you a seat.

My 3rd full-length album, Lover, is out tomorrow at 12 EST. Sorry for the surprise but see you at the premiere ❤️

lecsyn BITCH THIS IS WHY YOUVE BEEN QUIET

mothertay miss mam we havent heard from you in months how can you drop a bomb like this so casually

norrislaren IM CRYING I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING

midnightshouse y/n i need to know if i can shake my ass to this album or i will be destroying ice cream pints with tears on my face

ynalbums Judging from the title... it sounds like it's more on the romance side? gucciluv oh my god there's hope for charles and her after all 🙏

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 1,295,294 others

charles_leclerc My lover.

Beyond excited for your album, amour. Thanks for letting me be a part of it 🤍

lecsyncharles CROWD CHEERS OH MY GOD

hamilstappen im crying they broke the streak they're alive! WAR IS OVER

charlierari part of it... y/n ft. charles????

carlossainz55 Hey this counts as your musical debut? 😆

charles_leclerc I didn't sing... carlossainz55 Yeah you shouldnt c2lovers FUCK??ABSHBHWWH

landonorris Can't believe people thought you broke up you literally won't shut up about how you're in Silverstone and she's in LA

pierregasly Don't forget the calling Y/N every 10 seconds charles_leclerc ??? Please shut up

Now Playing: Lover (Music Video) - The Dedication

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, lorenzotl, and 2,109,294 others

charles_leclerc My forever lover.

tagged: yourusername

landonorris Will you save me a seat at every table?

yourusername Have my song memorized already, I see 😆 landonorris You know it!

lewishamilton Congratulations, Y/N and Charles! 🥂

danielricciardo I call taking most of the pictures 🙏

landonorris No???

ynlecs16 this is such a fucking surprise the two of you need to cool it down i'm hyperventilating

scuderiaferrari Best wishes to our favorite couple ❤️

yourusername Wait, I thought we broke up?

charles_leclerc Negative. You're stuck with me forever now 😘

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: taylor has got me wishing i was currently in love this is sick! anyway i only got this idea bc my tiktok fyp is swarmed with charles daylight edits and they are right he is so golden <33

[sweettofuki]

"Every relationship is different, but ours was my favourite" | part two

pairing: hoshina x emotionally reserved reader genre: second chance, angst -> fluff, a little smut summary: Hoshina finds ways to rekindle your love for him warning: minors do not interact, slight cursing mentions: @swivi @kaoiyeva @sleepymeix @lillycore thank you for your support!! I hope you enjoy this continuation!! a/n: part two! part one here

wc: 3.1k

“I’m home,” you heard the door to your shared apartment clicked open.

You walked over to greet your boyfriend, Hoshina, at the front door, who came home late again.

“Hey baby, how was your work today?” you asked

“It was okay. I’m so tired though,” he replied.

You helped him with his bag and got him settled down.

“Do you want me to warm up your dinner? I made your favorite, katsu curry!” you beamed.

He took a sharp inhale. “Actually, my coworkers and I went out for dinner after work. I’m so sorry, dear.”

You sighed, disappointed, before turning your heel to heat up your portion.

“It’s fine, I can keep yours for lunch tomorrow,” you mumbled.

“When’s your next off day?”

“Wednesday.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’m off that day too! Do you want to do something together? I was thinking of going to that new cafe that just opened—”

You started rambling about plans for your shared day off, but he seemed uninterested. He just wanted some peace and quiet when he got home. He clicked his teeth against his tongue.

“Actually, is it okay if we stay in? I’m just exhausted from being out every day.”

“… You always do this”

“Do what?”

“You always find excuses not to spend time with me. ‘Captain Ashiro needs me to finish this paperwork.’ ‘Officer Hibino is causing trouble again.’ ‘There’s a new weapon that needs testing.’ When is it gonna be ‘Sorry, I can’t, I have plans with my girlfriend?’’ you huffed.

“You neglect me all the time Soshiro. When are you finally gonna make time for me?” you yelled, frustration boiling over.

“Why are you getting mad at me? We can still spend time if we stay in. I just don’t want to be around people on my off days.”

“But we never go out anymore! Do you even remember the last time we went out?”

“Maybe. I’d be more willing to spend time with you if you didn’t spend every single minute of our time together nagging me,” he snarled.

“well, I’m SORRY for wanting to spend time with my boyfriend. Shoot me!” your voice raising a volume higher, hands balling into fists.

It wasn’t usual for you to raise your voice at him.

His eyes widened before his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Fuck y/n. Can you just shut up for a moment?? I don’t have time to deal with this. I have responsibilities y/n. You can’t expect me to just drop everything because you’re clingy.” he snapped.

A veil of silence fell over you. A sharp pang hit your heart, discomfort spreading across your chest.

“You…you think I’m clingy?” you whispered.

His words resonated repeatedly in your head. You looked down, not even wanting to hear his answer. Slowly, hurt morphed into anger. You felt something inside you snap.

“How the fuck do you think I’m clingy? I barely see you. We live together, and I only see you once a week. And even if we do see each other, you look irritated just talking to me, like it was a chore. You're always late coming home or to our dates—”

“Don’t you think I’m always out late because I don’t want to deal with you!? You’re always breathing down on my neck, suffocating me. I have a duty to serve, y/n.”

You let out a sharp gasp, pain etched across his face as he immediately regretted his choice of words.

But it was too late; he knew there was no taking them back. His words would be forever engraved in your mind.

“Fuck you and your fucking duties. Did you forget that I’m also working the same job as you? You don’t see me giving you excuses just because I’m exhausted. You know what? I’m done.”

Then you turned on your heels and stomped towards your shared room.

Hoshina leaned against the counter, breathing out a deep sigh. Then he heard the sounds of something zipping open, closet doors being thrown open, and frantic rustling.

Suddenly, the drop in temperature was the least of his worries. Panic overtook his exhaustion.

“Y/n, dear? What are you doing?” he shouted down the walkway.

You didn’t answer him .

Until he figured it out himself, reluctantly. He watched as you emerged, dressed and lugging a large suitcase behind you.

“w-where are you going at this hour?”

A stupid question he knew the answer to.

“y/n, please wait. Talk to me, baby—.” he pleaded but got cut off by your cold tone, something he had grown to hate.

“I think we’ve talked enough, Hoshina.” you hissed.

He never knew he could hate the sound of his own family name.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his dry throat. He wanted to pull you into his arms, to tell you that what he said wasn’t true, and apologize endlessly.

He wanted to tell you that he loves you, that when he comes home after a long day and holds you in his arms, he likes the feeling of your warmth and comfort. He adored your bright, contagious smile and your endless patience and love for him.

It wasn’t his first relationship, but he would be damned if you were his last.

Yet, his feet stayed rooted to the spot. Unable to move.

The moment he saw you take your keys, he knew there was no way of turning back time.

He watched your figure disappear behind the closed door, leaving him to stand alone in their empty apartment.

Well, he finally got what he wanted.

You repeated the line in your head, trying to reassure yourself that what you did was the right choice. With you gone, he could focus on his career without anyone holding him back.

But damn, does it hurt.

Hot heavy tears streamed down your face as you drove towards headquarters, where you had a spare private room.

You managed to hold in your tears until you left, refusing to let him see you at your weakest.

You felt like a dam, that broke down from holding in too much pressure for too long. The pain jabbed at your chest, obstructing your airways, making it hard to breathe—

You gasped awake.

Sitting up in bed, you clutched your chest, breathing heavily.

Calm down. Calm down. It was just a dream.

You sank back down into your bed, back in your dorm, your eyes still brimming with unshed tears. Hugging yourself, you sought comfort and fell asleep in your own embrace.

[…]

The next morning, you carried your duties on as usual. In your Captain’s office, you reported on recent improvements among your officers. Then, you discussed upcoming drills and training plans with your Vice Captain.

“Focus up Officer Izumi. You’re doing well,” you called out.

You nodded in approval as Officer Izumi swiftly took aim at the furthest target.

You have been monitoring your platoon’s progress during the drills, and recently, you’ve noticed Officer Izumi had climbed up to one of the top few spots in your squad.

“Hey, Platoon Leader L/N, did you see that shot? Pretty impressive right?” he said, standing a bit too close to your comfort.

“Yeah, good job officer,” you replied nonchalantly, not bothering to meet his gaze.

Lately, you couldn't shake the feeling that Officer Izumi has taken a liking to you. He always finds ways to strike up conversations with you and sometimes he would ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours. It hadn't gone unnoticed by the squad, resulting in him being teased constantly behind your back.

Yet, you can’t deny feeling a hint of flattery from receiving said attention. It had been a while since anyone had paid you this much attention since your breakup.

Thank god my dry pussy spell has lifted.

As you walked down the hallway, you heard your name being called out from behind you.

“Platoon commander L/N! Wait up!”

You turned to see Officer Izumi jogging towards you.

“Do you need something, Officer Izumi—”

“I know this is sudden but…I think you’re pretty and I’d like to get to know you better. Will you go out with me?”

Stunned, you’re not sure how to respond to something like that. For a split second, it brought back memories of the last time someone confessed to you—by a vice-captain.

“Officer Izumi, I’m flattered and I appreciate your interest, but I’m sorry. I can’t accept your confession. It crosses professional boundaries.”

He moved closer, you instinctively stepped back, feeling your back hit the wall.

“Why don’t you take some time to consider it? I can wait. Maybe one week or two—”

“She said no, dumbass. Learn to take no as an answer.”

Izumi froze. You turned to see the figure standing behind Izumi. As if just thinking about him made him materialize into thin air.

“What are you doing here, Vice-Captain Hoshina?” you asked

Your division and Hoshina’s share the same headquarters, so it’s not that odd to run into each other. What’s odd, though, is the sheer frequency of running into him, despite the base being HUGE.

Hoshina grabbed the officer by his jacket, effortlessly pulling him back despite Izumi's towering height. Even though Officer Izumi was a head taller than him, it did not seem to affect the vice-captain. However, the mere presence of the Vice-captain and his menacing grin seemed to have affected Izumi.

His grin bore nothing of its usual friendliness.

He smiled at you as he sent Officer Izumi away, flashing his canines. His menacing grin quickly shifted to a gentler smile upon facing you. You can’t deny that his smile didn’t stir up old butterflies in your stomach.

“I leave you alone for one minute and some poor bastard is already chasing after you, with additional borderline sexual harassment.”

“Why would he be a poor bastard? You don’t believe that I’m capable of dating Officer Izumi or anyone else for that matter?” you retorted

You saw a slight twitch in his eyebrows when you mentioned Officer Izumi.

He backed you against the cold, dry wall once more, slamming his hand beside your head with his thumb brushing against your ear. You felt a flame ignited at where his thumb is touching your earlobe, warmth radiating. His body hunched forward, completely caging you in.

“I know you, Doll. You wouldn’t settle for someone like him” he whispered, his intense gaze locking with yours in the close distance, his pupils dilated.

You blushed, immediately looking away and taking a deep breath.

You heard him stifle a laugh, feeling victorious from gaining a reaction from you.

“I don’t think exes normally care about this kind of stuff, Hoshina,” you teased “Like I said before, you don’t know me.”

“Hm, we’ll see about that, L/N,” he replied.

[…]

You were heading to your dorm when you passed by the training room. Light illuminating from an opening in the door.

“Seriously? They never remember to turn off the lights,” you mumbled to yourself

As you entered and made your way toward the light switches, you were about to flip the switches when your attention was drawn to the sparring dummy standing in the middle of the room.

Memories flooded back as you recalled the time when you were training alone, when Hoshina walked in, and you’d asked for his help.

“Baby, you’re not punching hard enough.”

“I don’t want to hurt you Soshiro,” you whined.

“How many times do I have to tell you, dear? I can take a hit! I won’t get hurt that easily, ya know?” he smirked

“Alright, you asked for it, love.”

Stepping back, you closed your eyes to clear your mind, then launched an attack on Hoshina.

Your right arm swung with full force, but he swiftly caught your fist and pulled you close. His arms wrapped around your waist, and with a swift move, he tripped one of your legs, sending you falling backward. In an instant, you went from aiming at his face to gazing up at him against the bright ceiling. His smirking face hovered just inches from yours.

Then his lips closed the distance.

You let out a small squeak at the surprise kiss.

Even after he pulled away, you still felt the softness of his lips lingering on yours.

You wet your lips.

His hungry, crimson eyes glanced down at your mouth.

He breathed out a deep sigh.

“Have I ever told you how absolutely breathtaking you are?”

“Not that I remember.”

In that moment, he fell harder in love by how your lovely lips curled up into a smirk, replicating the one he perfected.

You felt the hands around your waist and the back of your thigh grip harder, his fingers digging into your skin. His breathing grew heavier than before.

“Well, I’m telling you now sweetheart.” He whispered against your lips “You take my breath away.”

This time, he pressed into the kiss harder. He nibbled on your bottom lip, seeking entry with his tongue.

You let out a sharp gasp, which was immediately swallowed into his mouth, feeling something hard pressed against your crotch.

Trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his warm lips gently nibble at your most sensitive spots.

“Babe not here. People might walk by and see us,” you panicked, whispering in a high pitch.

“Let them watch,” he muttered lowly into your skin.

You palmed hard at his hard-on through his pants. He let out a deep groan.

“Are you suggesting we find somewhere more private? Use your words, you naughty girl,” he added, chuckling lowly.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

You were deep in thought when a familiar voice interrupted you.

“Oops, my bad Y/N! I forgot to switch off the lights again," Hoshina said, lightheartedly.

You couldn’t remember when he started going back to first name basis with you again.

You turned and narrowed your eyes at him.

With him, nothing is ever a mistake.

“Oh? What had you so preoccupied that you forgot something so trivial?”

You noticed irritation flicker across his face. You mentally cheered for getting under his skin

“It was an honest mistake, y/n. Surely you've made mistakes in your life too.”

You paused halfway through switching off the lights.

Meeting his gaze, in a hard tone, you replied, "No, I haven't." If your words had made any impact on him, he made sure not to show it, his expression remained neutral as ever.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I suppose I have my moments of absentmindedness.”

You stared aimlessly at the wall ahead, refusing to make eye contact with him, tension thickening the air between you. Finally, he asked, “Did you remember? That night when the kaiju attacked and you exhausted yourself to the point that you blacked out.”

“what about it?” you replied, your voice hinting with intrigue.

There was a brief pause before he continued, his words carefully chosen.

“ When I saw the medics carrying your lifeless body on a stretcher, I felt like my heart dropped. I waited for you to wake up. I was there first thing in the morning and stayed by your side until you regained consciousness. I brought you flowers, hydrangea, your favorite, hoping that the scent will wake you up."

You remembered. The flowers. The empty chair.

Your hand reached out to brush against the beautiful, delicate petals. You ponder to yourself who could have left such a thoughtful gift. Fresh hydrangeas! Coincidentally, your favourite. What you didn’t notice was the pair of footsteps receding after one last glance.

“Thank god you woke up only after two days. If you had died before I could atone my mistakes, I would never forgive myself for watching you take your last breath.” He choked out the last few words, the pain evident in his voice as he imagined the worst. "It made me realised how much I still love you."

He fought back the tears that were pushing against the water gates.

You have never seen him this vulnerable before. A sharp pain throbbed in your chest at the sight of his unshed tears.

“Did you know how I noticed you hadn’t been leaving your office? Because I’ve been passing by your office every day since you left, hoping to see just a glimpse of your face. To know that you’re doing alright. After a week with no signs of you, I started to wait until you fell asleep on your desk before I dared to enter.”

He vividly remembered the moment he quietly stepped into your office, praying that you were too busy or asleep to notice. There you were, sleeping peacefully with your arms cradling your head. He cracked the door open wider, stepping closer to the front of your desk. Taking a peek at your sleeping face, he noticed your deep sunken eyes, the purple hue under your eye, and the discoloration on your cheeks. Almost as if life had drained from you. He gently tucked a strand of loose hair strand behind your ear.

Despite being overworked, and looking like you hadn’t slept in days, he couldn’t help but admire how angelic you looked at that moment. Then he noticed your petite hands trembling from the chill. He looked around the room, his eyes fell on the thick quilt on your couch. With a sigh, he retrieved it, carefully draping it around your shoulders and tucking it in, making sure no amount of warmth could seep out.

You stood frozen in place, staring at him, unsure what to make of his sudden confession. His heartfelt words clashed with your memories, particularly of your last argument with him. You clench your fists involuntarily.

“I don’t know….I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that again, Soshiro!” you cried. “When I left our apartment, I was nothing but my aching soul. It felt exhausting being in that relationship,” You started crying in hysteria, tears pooled in your eyes before they streaked down your cheeks. It was the first time you had really cried in weeks since the breakup. It felt good.

Without another word, you let him slowly embrace you, tightly, as though gathering your broken pieces.

Then you felt something wet hit your head, followed by another. Looking up, you saw tears flowing down his face.

“Please…give me another chance. We don’t have to start off strong right away. We can start at whatever pace that feels comfortable for you! I know I’m the last person who deserves your love right now, but when you left, I never realized how big our apartment was. I finally understood how you must have felt each time I left you alone. I promise you, if you take me back, I’ll never make you feel something like that again.” he begged.

With a shaky breath, you gripped his shirt close as you cried, whiffing in his familiar scent. “Okay, Soshiro,” you said. “Let’s give it one more try.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, pulling you back to search your face. He held you tighter. “Thank you, baby! Thank you!” His words muffled against your hair.

Both of you stood there engulfed in the soft glow of the dim lights, reunited at last, each feeling as if a missing piece of the other had finally been rediscovered.

[formyloveoflove]

The Bear S3 and the Choices We Make

Ok. After a second watch of S3, I'm feeling a little bit more optimistic about the future. Trust - it's a sad ending. It's my worst nightmare for Sydney. But there's still hope, and that all lies in what Carmen and Syd decide to do next. Season 3 Spoilers - read at your own risk :)

In S3 E10 Forever, we see our two mains go through a breakthrough. Starting with Carmen, he finally confronts his former boss (who has a name, i think, but fuck him, I ain't using it). It's the first (and only time) that we see Carmen proactively voice his resentment. He avoids his mom (rightfully so imo). He never got the chance with Mikey. But he approaches him, expects the man to have repent (maybe), or at the very least, have a little remorse.

He doesn't. He regrets nothing. In fact, he takes credit for Carmen's success: his hard work, his skills, and his talent. He tells Carmen that he should be thanking him, and that's not even the worst of it. No, for me, it is when he says

Carmen: My life stopped. Chef: That's the point, right? [...] You wanted to be great. You wanted to be excellent. So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent. It worked. You're here. Look at all this

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same sentiment that Carmen said in the Season 2 finale. Remember, he said,

I wasn't here. Right? What the fuck was I thinking? Like I was going to be in a relationship? I'm a fuckin' pyscho. That's why I'm good at what I do. That's how I operate. I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could focus, and I could concentrate.

Carmen's thoughts about himself aren't even his own. They were drilled into him by a man who wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. He was emulating the abusive behaviors and patterns that crushed him, that gave him "uclers, panic attacks, and nightmares" on the people that he cares about. On his sister, on Richie, on Tina and Marcus. and especially on Sydney, who is the only one who knows exactly how bad it can get. He's hurt those closest to him. He hurts them daily. And for what? And for why? For his own ego.

And this realization leads us to Carmen's first cry.

For three whole seasons, we see this man lose his idolized brother to suicide, witness his alcoholic mother physically, emotionally, and mentally abuse him, and experience mental degradation to the point where it affects his physical health. Not once did he shed a tear. This is the first time Carmen Berzatto lets himself cry. And I think this is the best thing for him. If he chooses to acknowledge the err of his ways, turn back course, and begin again, I think The Bear could be what he wanted it to be. He needs to decide to stop running, stop fighting himself and everybody around him. He needs to let go. Let it rip, right?

However, if this is what he decides to do, the cards ultimately fall into Sydney's hands.

If anybody's been through hell and back, it's Ms. Sydney Adamu. All season she's been forced to work in a volatile environment, putting herself between Carmen and whoever's the victim of his anger. She has her ideas shut down, her skills demeaned, and her credit is outright non-existent. Staff keeps quitting; they're not making any money; and Cicero and Co. is doing some shady background shit.

She's trapped, but not really. Not until she signs that Partnership Agreement. But like she told her dad in S2 E9 Omelette, she doesn't think she has another one in her. She can't have The Bear fail like Sheridan Road. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did last time. She wants to grow and learn and make her mark on the industry - prove she's not a failure.

She's waiting for Carmen to make good on his promises from The Table Scene, but he's not.

"You deserve my full focus." But his focus is not on her. Remember the Carmen that noticed when something was off with her? Remember the "say more?" or the "what's up with you?" Remember when they worked together, when the menu was truly theirs? Where was Sydney's "margin" moment? What did Carmen do this scene that signaled to Sydney that he was there and present.

"I couldn't do this without you." He does everything without her. Don't even get me started. From the menu to the list of nonnegotiables. Syd gets to make no decisions after being forced to make ALL the decisions. What is she there for? To be Carm's wrangler, his doormat? What has he does to convince her that she is invaluable?

He's egotistical. He's verbally abusive. He's the exact person that she warned him not to be. That he assured her that he wouldn't be in S1 E3 Brigade. She said,

You know I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different. [...] But you just didn't really listen, and if this is going to work the way I think we both want it to work, I think we should probably try to listen to each other. The reason why I'm here, and not somewhere else or for someone else, is because I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don’t wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don’t care about.

He didn't follow through the first time, so she left. But now, it's different. She's put her blood, sweat, and tears into this place. She's made a place (a home even) at The Bear. Leaving is not as simple anymore.

S1 Syd would've taken that CDC offer in a heartbeat. But building something and it failing (like The Bear. like Sheridan Road.) is terrifying. Slowly but surely, Carmen has been chipping away at her confidence and her fire. So much so that good things, like The Offer or the review of her risotto from The Beef, don't feel like good things.

Sydney's Panic Attack is HUGE for her character. We see Sydney at her lowest: her most frightening and vulnerable. She's uncertain. She's in a constant state of panic. And the person that she trusted with her fears and insecurities facilitated this, drove her to this point. It's heartbreaking. I cried when I saw it. No one would blame her for jumping ship. At this point, I encourage it (but she has to talk about it, acknowledge it. no running).

Now, if Carmen decides to change his ways, he'd have apologized to Sydney twice without changed actions. She'd have to believe him after many, many broken promises. At this time, she doesn't trust him, can't rely on him. But when having to decide between staying or going, will she try to trust him again?

Will she? Should she?

That's where I'm at so far. I have more thoughts, but I'll write those out when I get back from my weekend trip.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Our Little Dance" - BurningCheese Short #7

THE SEQUEL TO "Mine Forever More" IS HERE! After I went through the story in episode 6 a couple more times to help visualize things and NOT just to watch Burning Spice openly obsess over Golden Cheese over and over again I swear, I was finally struck with inspiration. Thought about some concepts during work, fleshed them out more when I came home, finally reached a coherent game plan, and here we are. I really hope you all enjoy it!

WARNING PART 2: Again, this is one-sided BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. This is Yandere Spice, not Flirty Asshole Spice. This Spice doesn't deserve Golden Cheese, he deserves a restraining order, or a spot on a registry, or to outright face the fucking wall. He is worse in this part than the last. Go read something else if you're not comfortable with that (and/or if you're a minor).

He knew she wouldn't disappoint him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Burning Spice never cared for dancing. Those few times he allowed himself to be dragged over to that happy, energetic crowd, in those long-gone days of his heroic youth, he always found himself regretting it. Slow, hunched steps so as not to accidentally stomp on the child's feet, as he was so much bigger and stronger than they were. Awkward mimicry of the group circling him, cheering each other on as they carried out traditional performances (he didn't join them on that, of course, the dance itself was tedious enough). Averted - rolled, if he was annoyed enough - eyes and polite disinterest for the red-faced girl who tripped over herself just asking for his hand (she seemed too starstruck to notice he danced with her out of obligation and nothing else).

He remembers people trying to change his mind on the matter. Dancing was not so different from fighting, they said. They had the same flow, the same energy, if one did them right.

What a bold-faced, silly little lie. Dancing only got worse each time he engaged in it. It was annoying. It was all fake. It was boring. Like everything else turned out to be.

He hated those people. He hated festivals. He hated the pitiful civilizations that conjured them. He hated peace and merriment. He hated history. He hated change. He hated life. He hated dancing.

...Or he did, once. He used to. He sees the error of his ways now.

It turns out that what he'd needed all along was the right dance partner.

And she was exactly that, and so much more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their first dance was too short. Their shared passion burned bright, but fizzled out quickly. She'd missed an important step. Stumbled. Fallen.

It was alright. He was angry in the moment, and he told her so. He punished her for her mistake, for her weakness - just as she deserved. They had both waited far too long for this for her to go on and screw it up.

But it was alright. Really. She was still here; she was still breathing; he could still her heart beating in her chest. So long as these were true, then it would be alright. She would collect herself. She would rise, strong and proud, shaking off all of the dirt and blood. She would return to him. To his embrace. They would dance again, better than before. He would give himself to her in his entirety, as he'd planned to. And she would do the same.

His usual lack of patience got the better of him, if only for a moment, as he tucked her into her prison cell. But how could he be blamed? She was simply too beautiful. She looked too perfect there, nestled into his arms, her head still resting against his chest. He'd told her that the kiss was payment for him allowing her lackey to live - and that was true, it really was. He'd wanted that man dead the very second he came into Burning Spice's line of sight. He was too close to her, in either sense of the word, and Burning Spice simply would not have it. It simply wouldn't do. This error shall be corrected soon enough - with extreme, ever-mounting prejudice, the longer the man spent anywhere near Burning Spice's beloved.

But really, more than that, he just wanted to taste her. He simply couldn't bear not doing so anymore. The faint shimmer of her golden hair in the pale light shining down from the ceiling, those rogue strands still framing her face so prettily despite being otherwise ruined, the feeling of her skin against his, that sweet mouth set in such a dazzling frown, that glint of furious determination in her eyes - it was all too much. It was her own fault, really. She made it too hard to say no.

Fuck, she tasted good. So, so good. Sweet, but tangy, and oh so rich. All mixed together into one flavor that he could only describe as her. As Golden Cheese. And fuck, he was already hooked. Addicted to the feeling of her soft lips on his own. Addicted to the feeling of his tongue caressing hers. Addicted to the feeling of her breath mixing with his. He needed more. He'd die without it. He'd die without her.

She would give him more, he knew. She had to. They had so much lost time to make up for already. A bit of time recovering in peace and quiet (ugh), and she'll be alright again. She'll come back to him. And he'll give her many, many more long-awaited kisses.

Their dance wasn't over yet.

She won't disappoint him. She can't.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yes... Yes, this was what he wanted. Exactly what he wanted. She knew him far too well. Better than anyone ever had.

She escaped. With her lackey, unfortunately - but oh well, they can deal with that later. What mattered now was her taking this next step. Taking the lead in their special dance. So bold, so forward. He loved it. He loved her.

She led him through the halls of his temple; had him weave between the columns, hurry past faded murals depicting his former greatness. He chased her every which way, drank in her lingering scent with relish. Perhaps he should have let her take the lead sooner; this was SO much fun. He was having far too much fun following in her steps. Only she would have the cleverness and creativity to also make their dance a game. To add in all of those aspects of a thrilling hunt that he so adored into their little performance. Yes, he loved this. He adored it.

Honestly, where has she been all his life?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When their dance hit that fever pitch once again, he half expected his heart to burst from his chest out of sheer euphoria. Dragging one another through the temple a second time, all of those worthless walls and pillars and decorations getting caught in their beautiful maelstrom. Such delightful devastation, brought about by her. By his love for her. By them and their union. By this perfect little dance of theirs.

In his manic glee, he let his mask fall, if only slightly. Now wasn't the right time, he would pour his dark, aching heart out to her only when he knew that right time had come - but oh God, she knew exactly what to say to him and how, and how to bring out both the best and worst in him all at once. He would taunt her, mock her, and she would meet his sneering with her own sarcastic indignation. This bickering, this bantering - so, so much fun. SHE was so much fun.

She teased him, too, much to his heightened joy. "The world? I do not care for the world! Nor do I wish to protect it! Or to be called a hero!" A bold yet terrible liar, she was, after she ruined their first dance for the sake of that child. She was truly beautiful, inside and out; at her core shone the bright and pure soul of a hero. And yet, she denied it. It was funny. It was cute. She was so cute.

"I am the Radiant Deity of the Golden City! I fight only to protect my treasures. And I will NOT let the likes of you harm what is mine!" Oh, she truly was so adorable. Prized possessions were just what he loved to destroy most. And he HATED how much these things meant to her: her land, her palace, her gold and jewels, her subjects. He hated them so much, that he let his mask slip: he confessed that, when their dance was over, he planned to go and destroy it all. Everything she ever held dear, wiped off the face of the earth. She didn't need any of it, anyway. He realized long ago that nothing truly matters - nothing except for them, of course - and she would come to realize it, too. He would make sure of it.

Nothing mattered to him except for her. Nothing shall matter to her except for him. They shall keep on dancing forever, even as the world crumbled to dust around them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He began losing his patience near the end. Still more her fault than his. She got to him too much. Too badly.

Some of the weight behind his axe vanished, for he began to favor his own hands instead of it. The axe carved her open, drew her blood, had her dancing so erratically, so desperate to evade its brutal swing - and he enjoyed that. But he enjoyed touching her even more. When he got close enough - and he did everything in his power to get close enough, even for just a second - he would catch her off guard by striking her with his fists instead. He just... he NEEDED to touch her. The itch only got more unbearable as they danced on. Just one split second of his hands on her body, that's all. Even in the form of bloodied knuckles leaving deep bruises on her stomach, or knocking the wind out of her lungs. That's all he wanted. Was that so wrong?

If she noticed this, she made no sign of it. With the way she acted, it was fair to assume she no longer noticed much of anything. She was weakening again; though their dance continued on, though that fire still consumed them, it seemed now that she was being overwhelmed. She was starting to stumble again. She missed a step or two. Had him pick up the slack. It was unfortunate, but still fun, still amusing - he was too far gone to really be upset that this was happening again, to be honest. The spices in the air, the smell of her blood, the sound of her cries and labored breathing... too much. All too much. He was losing his damn mind, and it was exquisite.

But... oh, Golden Cheese, his little bird, with her tenacity and her endless surprises. Even as he took charge of their dance again, she found another way to get to him. To crawl beneath his skin and eat him alive from the inside out.

Her tongue - that sweet, soft, delicious, clever, beautiful tongue - became a poisonous barb, as sharp and painful as the tip of the golden spear that tried (and often succeeded, to her credit) to impale him everywhere she could reach. She attacked not only his body now, but his character, his spirit. She called him a failure. Declared that he had never been a hero nor a god, and never deserved to have been called either. She accused him of self-serving cowardice, of wanting desperately to hide his own shortcomings underneath all of that rubble and all of those mutilated corpses. All with that smug, little upturn of the corners of her lips, and a tiny but bright glint in her eye.

Yes... she knew him too well. She knew how to reach into his heart and twist it. She blinded him with love, then rage, then love again. Invigorating fury. Delectable pain.

And he would inflict this same pain on her tenfold, as punishment for her insults, and encouragement for her to say them to him all over again. For Burning Spice loved and worshipped Golden Cheese, poisonous barbs and all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She fell again. Their little dance came to an end. There she was now, on her knees, her head bowed, soaked in blood. THEIR blood, mixed together. For a brief moment, she had turned him into an artist; in turn, he used her as his canvas.

Just what would it take for her to stop being so damn beautiful, he wondered?

"You said I failed? Hahaha..."

Come, now. He couldn't help himself. Their dance had been so much fun; now he was just riding out the rest of his high. And he wanted her with him, doing the same.

"My... greed... never..."

Still fighting, even now. Even with so many shattered, aching bones. Even with her spear all but snapped in half, rendered practically useless. Her voice sounded tired, broken like the rest of her. But she still feigned strength and poise the best she could. A proud warrior to the very end. Lovely. He would never have accepted anything less.

His mouth contorted into a smile of bitter amusement. "Warlords, heroes, villains and kings... I've seen all of them in my time." She had seen fit to give him a scathing lecture before. Why can't he do the same to her here and now? "They all tried to avert their doom, and like one another, they all perished."

No response. Rude... but understandable. It was fine, regardless. Her silence was answer enough.

"You, on the other hand..." He knelt before her, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers. Her skin felt hot and sticky, those tufts of fluffy hair brushing against him damp with blood and sweat. "Forgotten by history itself, and yet you still persist."

He cupped her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look him in the eye. Gone was that bitterness, no longer was he amused. Now his smile was a manic grin that all but split his face wide open, outshined only by the fire in his eyes. His mask had fallen off completely.

"I fucking love it," he told her.

And then he kissed her again, because he had to. Because he couldn't handle not doing so anymore. Their kiss - his kiss - was starved, desperate, sharp teeth and a hot tongue licking and biting at her lips, that same tongue forcing its way into her mouth and eagerly dominating her own. He finally let his hands roam, more than he'd been able to before, and he lost himself in her touch, in the soft, flawless skin of her arms and legs and stomach - every place she, through her chosen attire, had so graciously left exposed to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, pressing it into her back - right where her wings used to be. She winced; he hugged her tighter. She grunted in pain, he moaned in delirious pleasure, all but drowning her out. He couldn't take it. Just- just couldn't take it anymore. She was just so perfect. So delicious. She danced so beautifully. She drove him mad. He loved it. He fucking loved it.

Their dance was over, but it was fine. It was alright. It had been fantastic, better than he'd hoped. Another devastating loss to her name, worse than the last - but that was how their dance was supposed to go, anyway. It was alright. She's fine, she'll be fine. He won't allow her not to be, because she needed to get back up and dance with him again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again-

"Master!"

His eyes shot open, and he froze mid-lick, still feeling the erratic pulsing of her jugular vein against his tongue (he had briefly abandoned her lips in favor of her neck, showering it with searing, ravenous affection). Slowly, regretfully, he pulled away, releasing Golden Cheese from his grasp and rising to his feet. Back came that old bitterness - pure and true this time, pulling his lips back into a furious snarl and replacing the burning desire in his eyes with boiling hatred.

Nutmeg Tiger bounded into the room and knelt (collapsed, really) at his feet, exhaustion written all over her features but offering him a dutiful smile nevertheless. "Heh... I'm glad to see you... pleased... Great One."

Pleased? She thought he was pleased? He had been relishing his ultimate victory, in this little dance he had with his little bird, finally holding her in his arms again and touching and tasting her... and this- this miserable wretch barges in and interrupts them, and she thought he was PLEASED?

"You! Where have you been?" he spat at her. "You seem even more pathetic than usual."

So pathetic was she, apparently, that she failed to notice his clear outrage at her presence and actually responded. "I merely... took care of that... lackey of hers."

Another fatal mistake. HE had wanted to be the one to "take care of that lackey of hers". He'd wanted to strangle him with his own entrails and gloat that Golden Cheese was HIS AND HIS ALONE as he watched the light in that worm's eyes dim. But no. Nutmeg Tiger robs him of joy and satisfaction yet again.

She kept talking. This weak, mindless, PATHETIC creature kept talking at him. Something or another about the lackey revealing information about Golden Cheese's subjects, and how she'd convinced some Spices to desert. For Golden Cheese's sake - and perhaps to sprinkle a bit of salt into her wounds - he feigned surprise and interest, and laughed in her face when Nutmeg Tiger was finished. He knew all of this already. He knew his little bird inside and out, thanks to the Soul Jams. But playing pretend for a little while wouldn't hurt, would it?

"How does it feel?" he asked her, after he'd indulged in his fair share of cruel mockery. "How does it feel to lose everything?"

Nothing but the sight and sound of her clutching at the ground, trembling fingers raking through the dirt.

"But I must give credit where it's due," he laughed. Perhaps a bit of honest encouragement would rouse her. "After all, it's thanks to you that I realized I had to get my Soul Jam back."

She'd done far more for him - to him - than just that, of course. More than mere words could express. But that was what their dance had been for, wasn't it? That's what all of their dances will be for.

He reached down and grabbed her chin again. "Look me in the eye, Golden Cheese," he said. "I wish to see your face when I kill you."

He won't kill her. He can't. Her death would only result in his own, out of grief and boredom. He will pretend to kill her, then steal her away when neither this brainwashed fool nor anyone else was watching. He'll take her to his palace, to his bedroom. He'll clean her up, help her recover faster so they could dance again sooner. And while he waited, he would open up to her. Pour the whole rest of his heart out to her. Make her whine and beg to have his hands and mouth explore those parts of her that she still hid from him.

"I shall crush your greed, your treasures, your dough." He squeezed her face hard, digging his nails into her cheeks. "And, in the end, I shall take back my Soul Jam."

He knelt down before her one more time, low enough so his face was level with hers. "Don't worry. I always keep my promises..."

He thought he felt her head shift in his grasp... He thought he felt her eyes flicker towards him, if only for a moment, before falling to the ground once more. He promised to bring them back and never let them leave him again.

"All you ever held dear will be swallowed by the Tide of Change."

Everything. Her friends. Her subjects. Whatever still remained of her kingdom. The world itself. All of it. There shall be nothing left except for him, and all of those lonely, adoring, battle-crazed promises he's been silently making to her all the way until that very moment.

Above all else, he promised to keep dancing with her forever.

All he could do - all he's done, all this time - was hope she heard him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She... Golden Cheese, she...

...Oh. Oh, Golden Cheese. His gorgeous, powerful, radiant Golden Cheese...

She surprised him again. As she teetered at the edge of this great precipice, she regained her strength and clarity and saved herself. She broke free from his grasp. She rose to her feet and stood tall. Her voice rose with each word she spoke; words born from pain and sorrow, but overcome with righteous determination. And the Soul Jam - her Soul Jam - recognized this show of unwavering courage and returned to her without hesitation.

And she... then she...

She... changed. She changed form. Gone were those numerous deep wounds that carved and bled into each other. Gone was the blood, the sweat, the tears. A warm, shimmering light enveloped her, stripped her of all of her woes - and her old, tattered clothes - fuck, he'd been staring closely enough to realize that the light had temporarily stripped her bare and damn it, why wouldn't it let him see?! - and released her back into the world, born entirely anew. Dressed in the finest gold, the brightest blue, the- the red? There was red on her now? She donned his color? Just for his sake?

Oh, Golden Cheese, his beloved Golden Cheese... His delectable prey, his precious golden thief, his pretty little bird-

No. Not just a bird now. A phoenix. His stunning, courageous, radiant phoenix.

Yes, his beloved phoenix took him by surprise again and hurried him back to the dance floor... and he watched, not daring to blink even once, as she rose into the sky, eclipsing the sun itself with her mighty wings.

"Burning Spice," she called to him, "It seems the Tide of Change has turned in my favor."

Ohhhhhhhhh fuck, this perfect woman. Always knowing what to say to him and how. Never without her confidence, her pride, her shine. Her radiance.

"Hear my words. You chose to let go of everything you ever had. You do not deserve even the smallest smidgen of my treasures."

Oh, he was hearing her words, alright. He was etching them into the walls of his skull, pouring them onto his brain, forcing them to sink in as deep as possible. Letting the sound of her angelic voice nest in his ears and infect his mind, forcing all of his remaining thoughts out and taking their place like a greedy parasite.

But she was lying and teasing him again, pretty thing. He hasn't let go of everything. He was still clinging to his darling phoenix, desperate to keep her close. She was the only treasure of hers that he ever wanted. And the only thing that will make him let go is death itself.

Yet more glittering golden lights appeared all around her, alongside thickening clouds of earth and spice. From this divine storm came a cluster of spears, each one sharper and deadlier than the last.

The grin on his face ached terribly now, with how great and long-lasting it was.

"How can someone who has forsaken everything prevail over someone who has lost everything?"

Ah, but that wasn't true, either. She has him! She still has him and his love, their love. She still had their little dance; all of those little steps and bends and twirls, their boundless passion and energy, the electrifying touch of their skin and mingling of their breaths. And as he told her once before, he would gladly forsake everything for her. His temple, his possessions, his fellow Spices, EVERYTHING FOR HER AND ONLY HER!

"Remember this moment and taste the bitterness of regret..."

Regret? What regret? He wasn't capable of that anymore and he never would be again - not as long as she was there, taking the Sun's place as the source of light and warmth in his world.

"For you are about to face defeat from everything you have ever discarded!!!"

She dove straight towards him, volley after volley of spears raining down alongside her. His very own meteor shower, with the most captivating shooting star right at the center.

He leapt towards her, the strength of his leap leaving behind a crater where he once stood, wild, demonic cackling spilling from his mouth with abandon. Eyes locked onto one another's: brilliant, wrathful, glittering gold and smoldering, ecstatic, lovestruck red. Spear aimed right at his heart. Axe ready to swipe at her waist and cleave her in two.

She was offering him her hand, asking for his own in turn. She wanted to dance with him again. She missed being in his arms, and the two of them gliding across the floor together in perfect synchronicity. Their unrivaled harmony, the envy of all who witnessed it.

He shall take her hand. How could he not? He loved dancing with her far too much to do otherwise. He loves dancing now, and it's all her fault. She made it too hard to say no.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She did not disappoint him, and neither did the crushing weight of his entire temple bearing down on his back. How touching of her to leave him with such a gift, honestly.

Their last dance ended with a bang. With her staying true to her word and striking him down with all that he had discarded. And now there he lay, in the ruins of that place he and many others once cherished as a home and sanctuary.

He could hear a voice, somewhere at the edge of all the rubble. Nutmeg Tiger. If only he'd had the good sense to slaughter her like a pig like he ought to have ages ago. Now, as he shrugs the debris off of himself and regains his footing, he consoles himself with the idea that in the future, he can execute her right in front of his darling phoenix as a way to return her loving gesture. Yes, that sounds like a plan...

His muscles and bones screamed at him with every little movement he made, but he did not listen. Instead he shambled forward, out of reach of the temple ruins, that mewling, pathetic creature that called herself Nutmeg Tiger still buzzing around him like the insignificant little fly she was.

Clutching at the stab wound in his side (the one that was bleeding the most heavily, anyway), Burning Spice threw his eyes to the early morning sky. Their dance had lasted all the way until dawn... Beautiful.

A smile crept across his face, that eventually grew into a grin, that eventually fell open as deep, joyous laughter erupted from the pit of his stomach and out of his bloody mouth. Nutmeg Tiger started laughing too, but he didn't care about that. This moment was meant for him to savor all alone.

His dance with Golden Cheese had been everything he'd dreamed of and more... And he knew that their next dance would be just like it, for she never, ever disappointed him and never, ever will.

And there shall be many more dances. They shall take each other's hand and sway to their unique rhythm over and over again, until pain and exhaustion consumed them both, only to rise and take each other by the hand and dance another day.

Perhaps those fools from eons ago were right: dancing really is like fighting, if done right. And he and Golden Cheese did it exactly right.

Dancing was Burning Spice's favorite thing now, just as Golden Cheese was his favorite person.

He wanted to dance with her forever. Forever and ever and ever...

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

this was hard to write lol. I really, truly wasn't expecting people to want a sequel to MFM, so I had no plan ready (which is not like me as a writer at all, I am very much an "architect"/obsessive planner with my stories). I waited for episode 6 to drop for inspiration, and when I got it, I hit another roadblock in the form of me having TOO many ideas I wanted to work with. I thought of focusing on their moment right before GC awakens, but then I wanted to also do something with his confession to her (where he admits that he will gladly destroy his entire life to get to her), but then I also wanted to acknowledge his enjoyment of their game of hide-and-seek in the temple, but then but then but then lol. I eventually zeroed in on that scene where he called what they were doing a "dance", and realized that that was what captured my attention the most. The idea that he views their fight as a dance. So that's how I chose to frame his POV and the story as a whole. Like he thinks they're "dancing" together through the whole thing.

idk if I'm happy with the end result overall. I really wanted to do you all justice since you wanted a part 2 so bad. I can always go back and retool things/try to do a "version 2" with those other, smaller concepts as well. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this. Thank you for caring enough to want to see more from me, sorry for the wait haha

And remember, Burning Spice canonically called her his "little bird" and "lovely" and that he was enjoying "their little dance", and he canonically admitted that he would destroy everything and everyone for her, and no one can ever take that away from us now :)

[fillinforlater]

A little pre-Christmas breeding perhaps?

Feeling your hot thick cum inside of her only encourages Sakura to dance harder 😉

Both of you managed to not get caught but Chaewon knows something is up when Sakura has that burst of confidence and energy. Just thinking about it distracts Chaewon and she makes a cute little mistake when performing (Chaewon actually made a mistake during AAA performance 😂)

Knowing Chaewon is starting to get suspicious but deep down she's also a needy girl (Or so you've heard).

Would you continue to secretly fuck Sakura until Chaewon inevitably comes to you? Or would you rip the bandaid off, surprising Chaewon by fucking Sakura in front of her and hopefully convince her to join your frisky activities?😉

The Award She Wants

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura (ft. Kim Chaewon)

Length: 509 words

Tags: Quickie, a literal quickie, dialogue only, needy sex, THIGH STRAPS WORLD DOMINATION, prais kink, standing sex, creampie, cumming deep inside her, trying (not?) to get caught, needy_noona!Sakura

(A/N: the definition of late night BFH, as often thanks to @friskyriskywhisky)

-

"Hurry, we don't have much time left."

"I'm here, I'm here—God, it's so hot in here. The Philippines are killing me."

"What do you think of this? Do you like it?"

"Your face? Gorgeous as always, Noona."

"No! The, the outfit. Does it look any good?"

"Oh, you better not feel self-conscious about it, Noona.

"Please, spin around for me. God, you look so good in this. Sexy, hot, perfect—naughty."

"Your hands, hng! You're the naughty one."

"I love that this dress exposes your navel. It makes you look irresistible, I can't get my hands off of those abs.

"You smell so damn good, Noona."

"You too~"

"The thigh strap is a nice touch. I bet many people want to get their hand underneath it and—"

"Hey, what are you—"

"Lift your leg high like this. Oh lord, Noona, I can see it in the mirror: your thighs have gotten rounder. Look how they jiggle in my hands."

"Touch them more, okay? Are they nice?"

"Hm, yes, but what is that? Your ass is hanging out, they will see so much of it. Almost like an Arin fancam."

"Y-you, ah, watch Arin fancams?"

"No, I only watch fancams of you.

"Now, what do you want, Noona? I can already feel your wet pussy; should I finger you? You'd glow so bright on stage after I make you cum."

"N-no."

"Should I pull down the bottom of this outfit—with this way, waaaay too short skirt and eat your beautiful ass?"

"Hng, no."

"Then what do you want, Noona? Tell me."

"I want, I want your c-cum, deep in my pussy! Quick, Chaewon will be here soon!"

"Oh, but last night you wanted me to last forever~

"And now you want to be filled while Chaewon waits outside, her ears on the door of the locker room? Lewd-kkura~"

"Stop, please, just fuck me!"

"Pull them down, I'm already hard for you, Noona.

"And kiss me.

"Let me give you the confidence you deserve."

"Oh fuck, your, your pe-nis is so nice, ah."

"Aw, you're so cute—my tight, little Noona.

"Your pussy, no, your fucking cunt is trying to empty my balls."

"Don't call it that! So deep, so deep, f-fill me."

"You're so lewd, your eyes, you

"Hot-kkura, Noona.

"Fuck, I'm getting close."

"Ah, right there, faster, yes!"

"Noona, y-your cunt, I—

"I could fuck you the entire time, e-every day. I need your snug cunt, and I'm gonna make it my little hole for cum. Be my little cock-sleeve for now, Noona, and, and shine—like the star you are."

"Ahhh!"

"Noona, I—

"Kkura-unnie!?"

"Chae-chaewon, wait!"

"I'm cumming, Sakura~"

...

"Our performance is in forty seconds, what are you still doing in there?"

"Pull them up, quick!"

"What the—who are you?"

"He, he is a friend."

"Yeah, I just got here and—good luck, on the performance?"

"You should not be here—dang it, Unnie. On stage, now!"

"Yes, of course!"

...

"Who are you, really? What happened?"

"I'm... just a friend? And we, uhm, hugged."

"Seriously? Is that why you got a fucking bulge?"

"Uhmm...

"Yep."

[moneymartin]

PLEASE PLEASE do a kate martin fic where the reader is her ex and they cannot stay away from each other. like “uh oh” by tate mcrae PLEASE

・❥・- favorite bad decision

summary: you see kate at a practice after the two of you split

warnings: nfsw mdni. 18+ as fawk! but the smut is kinda short sozzzz

rpf. don’t read it if you don’t feel comfortable

a/n: i’m negl all my kate fics are fluffy cause i cannot see myself writing smut. (but i try to deliver so this sucks cuz i got a lil uncomfy) 😭 also i’m sorry for lacking on my writing im so stressed w all these exams im taking and some family problems. this also might go off track cause i wrote this half asleep 😕 didn’t know how to end this one too

stars are the skips :)

it’s been 5 months. 5 stupid months since that relationship you refused to let go ended. you couldn’t believe it either when your girlfriend suddenly said “we need to breakup.”. she never told you why, despite the multiple calls and texts you sent when she left the morning after that were begging for her to come back or at least explain why she felt that way.

you felt like absolute shit.

it was a long relationship, your longest one too. it was the fact you believed it would last forever. you wished for it to last when you saw those repeated numbers and whenever a star dotted across the sky. you believed in those silly little things, but you only believed in them for this stupid 1.5 year period.

everything felt like it had been going your way during those times. you felt alive again after meeting kate. she was the definition of a literal ball of sunshine when it came to you. constantly bringing you to her basketball games, showing you off to her friends and teammates, introducing you to her family. things were great. the feeling was refreshing, especially after being in probably the worst relationship of your life.

a guy played you behind your back so many times and you were unable to figure out yourself. the second you did, you didn’t even know why or what to do. you struggled with school from the thought of never finding out what he thought was weird about you or why he even considered doing that in the first place. you treated him like he was the best boyfriend in the world!

then kate had dug you out of a hole you thought you’d never have the guts or the fucking courage to get out of.

“there’s nothing wrong with you trying to get your mind off of it y’know.” jada says. shes been helping you cope with this thing even though her and kate are the closest people ever. she’d never tell a single soul anything you always talk to her about. “coming to our last game in carver won’t be that bad!”

“yeah, not so bad until i see kate! you know how i feel about her, jades. it hurts.” you murmur and swipe the back of your hand against your face. there’s a painful feeling at the bottom of your stomach and it makes your skin crawl uncomfortably. “i’m not going and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

jada’s face contorts into a half smile when she hears the way you talk about the whole shebang. she knows you that still can’t let it go, and she wishes so badly that you could let kate go. “right.” she breathes out and grinds her teeth together. “you don’t need to come.”

but you do anyways.

you sat there at court side awkwardly, watching the hawkeyes train before their final home game. you only saw caitlin, hannah, gabbie, syd, and kylie. jada was sitting next to you and cheering on her teammates. thankfully, you didn’t spot kate anywhere close or on the court at all.

until you fucking did.

kate walked in through the tunnel and dropped her gym bag on the floor, a loud thud echoing through the arena. she had her hair up in that same stupid braid, that same stupid smirk on her face, and that same stupid look in her eyes. you hated her so fucking much and you hated the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard you tried to.

that churn in the stomach made you feel like you had level 1000 cramps, but it was just that feeling you got when you felt absolutely sick to the core. sick because you didn’t know what, or how to feel after seeing kate again. it was the shitty feeling of not knowing why she even chose to leave you in the first place. it was the feeling of frustration when you saw her smile again. the feeling of confusion rushing back to you. you felt like a small child getting yelled at when she broke up with you, it was when nothing made sense at all to you. when you didn’t get the answer you wanted after multiple tries of begging for it.

you didn’t understand it, and you still don’t.

“you alright?” jada snaps you out of whatever the hell you were thinking about and you jump slightly, eyes diverting away from kate. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” you huff and smile with your teeth out. your body starts to grow numb and you feel as if you can’t breathe as well as you normally would, which jada notices. she grabs your shoulders tightly and places her palm on the side of your face to move your head towards hers. she knows you’re staring at kate. “you’re not fine.”

thanks captain obvious.

“yeah, obviously not!!!” you blurt out way too loud. it makes everything and everyone around you stop. the sound of the balls dribbling against the floor and the continuous chatter around you just stops. everything is silent and you know that its because of you. your face flushes at the embarrassment you feel and you step off onto the court, walking towards the exit. the sound of footsteps follow you and you don’t even have the guts to turn around. it seriously feels like you’re about to get completely flamed for acting out at a clear statement about what you felt.

but it’s not jada. or caitlin. it’s fucking kate.

a wave of anger and bitterness rushes through you like no other, and you can’t tell whether to be upset or nervous about this little interaction. you still love kate and you know that. “you like to yell, huh?” she chuckles and pushes your shoulder lightly. when her hand touches you, you don’t move away and just let her do it.

“lighten up, will ya?” kate’s lips curl up into the damn smirk again and she looks at you with those eyes. the eyes that she knows you can’t say no to, the eyes that got you hooked in the first place. “i missed when you acted up like that, to be honest.”

you’ve missed her touch so badly, but you just can’t admit it.

there’s a lot of things you acknowledge in life. things that you know. you know whats right and wrong when it comes to decisions and when it comes to certain things like seeing people you know you aren’t supposed to.

but you know that this is right. it always has been.

promises are always broken too, and this was one you swore you’d never break. it was hard, especially because kate was the hottest fucking person on the planet. saying ‘no’ to her was practically impossible. she asked you to come over after the game and you happily complied. which was a horrible idea.

“you’re such a fuckin’… asshole.” you whine out and let out a bated breath. your body shivers when kate’s fingers run up and down underneath your shirt and when her breath hits your sopping core. she’s in between your legs and eating you out like a madwoman. your head falls back into her pillows, fingers gripping tight at the roots of her hair and the bedsheets on the side of your body. “am i?” she mumbles, sending vibrations through your body that you haven’t felt in months.

that feeling is so good. and you know it. you missed it when kate acted up too. seeing her all tough on the court made something reignite in your stomach again, and it exploded when you saw her in the locker rooms. you literally dragged her out of there while she was in the middle of a conversation with addi and into your car. you couldn’t even wait before your lips were eagerly on hers and her hands were roaming in all the right places.

“yeah, you are. you fucking bitch…..” your voice goes up an octave the moment kate licks a stripe up your pussy and starts leaving hickeys around your thighs and stomach. “i tried ignoring you when i saw you at the club last week. all i wanted to do was jump into your arms and kiss your face off.” you admit awkwardly and let out a quiet cry the moment your stomach turns into knots. you’re close and she can feel it, her head diving down again while you absentmindedly hump at her face.

“shit!” you whimper and prop your head up, watching kate lap up every last drop of your cum. “i got you, baby,” she breathes out heavily onto your stomach. her breath is warm and she presses her cheek up against it when she feels your legs shake. her thumb rubs your sides and she looks up at you, rising up slightly and keeping herself steady with her hands. yours grabbing at her shoulders. when she keeps herself up you can feel her arms bulging underneath her shirt and she leans in. “mmf.. that’s my girl.”

her tongue swirls around yours, making you taste yourself all the way before the moment turns over quickly. “mhm..” you hum and slide your hands down her arms to get a feel again. the second you pull away, kate’s eyes go from feral to soft. she leans back and searches around on her floor, picking up your undergarments and sliding them on for you. “it’s okay.” she smiles and moves her head towards you. kate rests her head on your chest, chin in between and her arms around your stomach while your fingers cup her face.

you’re never gonna be able to stop forgiving her if she keeps doing this to you. and you know it.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

What was the best scene in this OF ep and why was it Sand and Nick attempting to hook up, realizing they don’t like each other like that, having a good laugh and then settling in to cuddle for the night?

BESTIE, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE SO RIGHT ALL THE TIME?!

Hands down, no holds barred, the best scene in this entire episode, and possibly one of my favorites in Only Friends and, dare I say, BL ever was Sand and Nick attempting to hook up, realizing they don't like each other like that, having a good laugh, and then settling in to cuddle for the night.

CAUSE IT'S

SO

FUCKING

QUEER

Far far too often in shows, BL or otherwise, there really is no attempts at showing different forms of platonic love, especially between men. It's part of what I really loved about New Girl actually was the very loving, comfortable, affectionate, and extremely platonic love between Nick and Schmidt.

Here though, I think there is frequently this perception that if people are friends with the gender they are attracted to, that they will inevitably give in to desire and fall in love or whatever (this is extremely common in hetero relationships to be sure) but that isn't the case, and it doesn't have to be the case, and we really should be showing people that it is a-o-fucking-kay for boys to platonically love each other.

My best friend and I are extremely queer platonic, and without a doubt the majority of the people that have seen us interact inevitably end up asking if we are dating, had crushes on each other, etc. and it truly can take a significant chunk of time to try to convince them we aren't lying. We cuddle, and kiss eachother on the forehead, and hold hands, and I love them but not romantically, and the same goes for them.

And the same can and should go for Nick and Sand. I love their loser friendship, I love that they were like "hey let's try it", I love that they realized that the care they have for each other was platonic, but that the care exists, and that they cuddled in bed because you can give physical affection to people you love without it being romantic or sexually charged. I love that the awkwardness of kissing your friend lasted like ten seconds and then they were like "yeah, it's cool let's be physically affectionate with one another assured in how we see our friendship"

And so too, in a show like Only Friends where you have so many hook ups happening, or any show where you have a romance, it can be really interesting and important to show people try to be physically intimate, and to have there be no sexual tension within it so that you can establish with even greater sincerity and believability a romantic pairs' attraction to one another.

With every episode of Only Friends that comes out, I keep thinking about that ask that @absolutebl got about why people were excited for this messy, toxic show when they hated other messy, toxic shows (like TharnType), and how much of that answer revolves around the trust we have for Jojo as a queer man in depicting actual queer male experiences. I will forever be grateful to Jojo and co for giving us this scene, and now I shall sit here and wait patiently to praise whatever show gives me gays all platonically making out with each other in the club.

(and putting all the rest of that aside, let's be real, these boys have been put through the fucking wringer with their boys of choice and they deserve a little laughter).

[nightxcreature]

Don't Call Me (SoldierboyxReader)

Summary: Reader and Ben have an altercation after an interview gone wrong.

Warnings: Cursing, Verbal Threats (Homicide), Sexually exploiting women, Jealousy, Anger, Angst

Pairing: Soldierboy x Jealous!Reader

A/N: Number two for @jacklesversebingo 2024! This one is based off the prompt: "Got something to say about that?" "No." "Well, you look like you do." Prompt is in bold. As always, edited as well as I can and this one has been proofread lol Criticism welcome, reposts, likes, and comments adored. 💕

Part Two is out now! It's titled "Payback".

My leg feels like it’s shaking a million miles an hour, electricity radiating down my arms. We had been sitting in Vought headquarters for the last three hours doing interview after interview with the flirtiest journalist. Her blonde hair bounced past her shoulders, her boobs on display no matter where she turned, and the sickly-sweet smiles she sent Ben sent bile up my throat every time. He was eating it up, of course, he always did. It didn’t matter how many times I let him fuck me, He always ate up these stupid interviews. They praised him, practically stripping themselves bare to please his ego. It was always the same statements, ‘You’re the world’s greatest hero, Soldier-Boy.’ ‘What would we ever do without you, Soldier-Boy?’ ‘What’s it like being the strongest man alive?’ ‘Do you want to sign my tits?’ Okay…that last one only happened once, but that doesn’t change the fact that they never have anything to say to me. If he had brought Mindstorm or Black Noir, hell even the twins, I’m sure this interview would be going a completely different way. The men are always front and center for these girls; Crimson Countess, Stormfront, and I are the last on the list, and the jealousy that boils in my veins at that knowledge is second to none.

                Of course, watching her throw herself at him wasn’t helping the situation. I can’t keep the little green monster at bay whether thinking about her ignoring me or about him wanting her. I always wondered if he thought of me when they were shoving themselves at him; I know the answer, but maybe in a perfect world he thinks of kissing my lips, of my hands on his body and his mouth on mine, of our bodies moving together and our minds melding as one when… “Hey! Hey! I’ve been yelling at you forever, Y/N!”  His voice snaps me out of my fog, and I turn to face him as he continues, “What? Have you got a dick up your ass? Pay attention!”

                The journalist laughs as I nod, rubbing a hand up his arm, and my eyes narrow, “Sorry, we’ve been doing this for hours and it feels like we’re getting nowhere. Are there any important questions left, Sweetheart, or are you just gonna sit here and keep theoretically sucking him off?”

                Her head snaps back and her jaw drops as she takes in what I asked, “Ex-excuse me?”

                “Do you have any important questions for me, or should I just leave the two of you alone?” I repeat slowly, “I’m getting a little sick of watching you two eye-fuck each other when I could be a fifth of Jack deep in my hotel room by now.”

                “I-I didn’t write down an-any questions for you.” She stutters out and flips through the papers in her lap, “I’m sure I can think of something though.”

                I roll my eyes and stand, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got better shit to do than this.” Turning on my heel, I storm out of the room and down the hallway. I barely make it to the elevator before I hear Ben’s heavy boots behind me. “Got something to say about that?” I ask turning to look at him, his features cold. Arms crossed and jaw set, the little muscle there jumping as he breathes.

                “No.” He responds curtly, a slight shake of his head the only change in his demeanor.

                “Well, you look like you do.” I snap, stepping into the elevator as the doors open. He shoves in behind me and we ride down in silence.

Just before we reach the ground floor, he slams a hand down onto the Emergency Stop button and corners me into the back of the small area. His eyes are blazing, breathing ragged, and his hands blocking me in, the epitome of anger all rolled into one man.

                “What, Ben?” I ask annoyed, glancing at his forearms above my head, “I have places to be.”

                “What the fuck is your problem?” He cuts me off, the vein in his neck bulging as he glares down at me, “Do you think just because I fuck you that you get to be a bitch to everyone else that wants to fuck me, too?”

                “I don’t give a shit who gets in your bed.”

                “Yeah? It sure seemed like it back there.” He nods behind him and his frown deepens, “What the fuck is your problem?”

                I sigh and duck underneath him to start the elevator back up, but he snatches me by the hair and shoves me back into the corner, “I’m not done talking to you.”

                I shove him back, standing taller to get in his face, “Well, I’m done talking to you. Hell, I’m done talking about you! That’s all anyone wants to talk about.” My breathing begins to shake, and I can feel my eyes blazing as my voice raises, “Do you think all this came from having a sexual relationship with you? From me being jealous that other women are in bed with you? No, Ben! That bitch didn’t even have questions for me. If I have to be there to watch you flirt with these stupid women over and over, the least they could do is ask me something more than how uncomfortable my suit is if I gain a few pounds!”

                He rolls his eyes and takes a step closer to me, towering over me, “You’re seriously going to act like this over her asking the face of Payback a few questions? Get it through your fucking skull,” He spits, tapping a finger against my temple, “I am not your boyfriend. I am not your friend. I’m your boss, I use you for a good time and I leave. That’s it.”

                “Fuck you, Ben!”

                “You already did.”  He smirks and slides a hand behind him to press the button, “And you’ll do it again.”

                Shock reverberates through my body, and I can feel the electricity building in my palms at a rapid pace. I hate him. I hate his cocky attitude. I hate his stupid face. I hate that he’s right. God, I hate him. Unconsciously, I reach out to grab his arms, but he steps to the side as the doors slide open. A raise of his brow tells me that he knows just as well I do, he was a centimeter away from the shock of his life.

                “That would be the last thing you do, Sweetheart.” He whispers maliciously, “You’re a great lay, Y/N, but I’ll kill you before you can blink, and we both know it. That sweet pussy isn’t worth all this trouble.”

                I smile sweetly, a sudden surprising confidence taking over my body. I blink once, twice, and finally a third time before staring him dead in the face, “I’m still breathing.” Flipping him off, I step out of the elevator and head down the hallway, “Don’t call me, Asshole.”

If he’s going to kill me, I’m going to give him a damn good reason.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: This one was a little easier to write without a tiny human running around the house, I actually got it finished while she was in school. I have been so nervous since dropping that smutty fic yesterday, so here's a little angst and anger to make me feel better lmaooo

[kozumesphone]

✮⋆˙ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 = 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒

⤷ leo valdez x daughter of athena!reader

masterlist

♡ fandom | percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

♡ includes | best friends with hints of romantic feelings (if I ever find the energy to make a part two, it’d actually be cool 😔), barely any angst to comfort, collective adhd levels being off the charts, yapping.

♡ in which | y/n and leo sharing a common love for designing and building things <3, reader and leo, both have nightmares (not described too vividly), reader uses swear words <3.

♡ a/n | jdkfcjqdkb I wrote this and forgot to post it ;-; anyway, this is one of my new fav leo fics i've ever written bc I get to geek out 🫶 + the technical part of this is inspired by my love for fast and furious + my new interest in f1, so enjoy!!

♡ wc | 1.0k

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“are you ready, child of athena?” a god’s voice boomed around us. I took a few steps to the front to be side-by-side with my brother, malcolm pace.

“you’re not leaving me, now of all times—”

“i’m sorry, mou ilios, I have to. you know I do.”

“mal, please, I— who’s going to lead the cabin if you’re gone? how can you be so selfish—”

“you, n/n. I know you can do it,” malcolm said, and stepped in front of me. he raised his hands and gently pushed me further behind him, enveloping me in his shadow.

“it’s one child of athena you want,” malcolm paused. “take me.”

“PLEASE NO—”

fuck.

I sat up on my bed. I picked up a watch from the bedside table—a watch that once was malcolm’s, but mine, now—which read 2:47.

I threw my blanket to the side, which did little to cover me up anyway, and got up to check on the little kids. they were all sound asleep.

for the next 10 minutes—or what felt like an hour—I walked around the cabin, cleaning it up and trying to fall asleep.

but when has sleep ever come to you when you needed it the most?

I feared reliving malcolm’s last moments before he left me, everytime I closed my eyes. stranded me here, disappearing without any advice on how to lead, or how to live.

I leant against the cabin door and felt the cool air from the bottom of the door blowing onto my feet. finally realising that I couldn’t go back to sleep, I decided to go out for a walk.

“and where are you off to?” annie’s voice whispered from her bed. she was still half asleep and groggy.

“heading out for a walk. can’t sleep,” I said.

“take the cap, and don’t get caught. i’m not helping you out with the dishes if you get caught by those harpies,” she grumbled. I smiled and took her cap from the coat rack beside the door, and stepped out into the cold night in nothing but sweats and a tank top.

great choice, y/n. good job on not realising what you were even wearing. now, you can die of the cold, if the harpies don’t get you first. yay!

I put on annie’s cap, watching my shadow disappear with me. I walked around aimlessly, thinking of malcolm helping me pick my first dagger, which was currently concealed with the help of the waistband of my sweatpants.

my feet subconsciously drag me to bunker nine, where I heard noises from. I go closer only to find light glowing from the open door.

I was facing my best friend’s back, hunched over a project, probably. if he turned around, I bet he’d look sleep-deprived and in need of coffee.

before I could take off the cap, he said, “hey, n/n!” and turned around with a grin.

“shut the fuck up, man, how did you just do that—” I complained, taking the cap off.

“I felt the sleep deprivation and negativity enter the room and guess who it was?” he wiggled his eyebrows and left his project unattended behind him.

“whatever,” I rolled my eyes at him and flopped down onto his couch. we looked at each other for an entirety of a few seconds before I opened my arms and he tumbled onto me.

“nightmares?” I asked.

“mhm.”

“same.”

“cuddle?”

“fuck yes, please.”

timeskip

it was around 4 in the morning when we wrapped up our movie night—movie morning?—with leo’s face buried in my neck, cuddling.

“wanna stay like this forever,” he said, his voice muffled. I smiled.

“or we could finish building what you were working on before I came,” I suggested. he looked up suddenly, with all his energy regained.

“hell yes!” he whisper-yelled, pumping his fist in the air and getting up. pulling me up from the couch, he continued. “I was working on building my own 1.6 litre four-stroke turbocharged 90 degree V6 double-overhead camshaft reciprocating engine. there’s these things called street races in tokyo, and this engine is basically my ticket to winning the next series there! wanna come with me and check out the coolest cars ever, next year?”

“oh, dude, you’re on! i’ve heard it’s basically motorsports heaven—”

“it is!”

“and we’re building our own fucking engine!?”

“we are—”

“oh, this is SO cool!”

“i’ve gotta start reworking on the specs, because I keep getting them wrong. can you take a look at them once?” he asked.

I nodded and moved towards his work table where used plotter papers lied. after taking in his planning and figuring out where he went wrong, I pulled out a new paper, and sharpened the blunt pencil.

I wanted to put my hair up but realised I forgot my hair tie at cabin six. I turned around to ask leo if i’d left any here when he removed a black hair tie from his wrist and dangled it in front of my face.

my cheeks flushed at the thought of him wearing it everyday. it felt so intimate, but it wasn’t that deep, really.

right?

I thanked him quietly and he pulled two chairs in front of the table, on which we sat down and started working on drafting the new specs together.

after about an hour, neither of us could keep our eyes open and moved to the couch, falling asleep together with whispered promises of finishing the blueprints the next day.

“cute fit, by the way,” he whispered. I looked down and realised it was his birthday gift to me from last year, and smiled.