#Michael is going to be so fucking furious

[quietwingsinthesky]

none of the archangels have their shit together, but gabriel is the closest to pulling it off and you gotta respect him for that

[inkskinned]

you keep having dreams about the holidays. in this last one, everyone is happy again, and it is a good day for a moment, the way that sometimes peace could settle in restless clumps over everyone's head. your father is downstairs, everyone else is picking a movie to watch. your cat is still alive and in your mother's lap. you aren't afraid to go into the kitchen to eat, the guilt isn't there yet, and everything is free. your dog is lying down with your siblings, tongue lolling out his mouth. everything feels warm and silly.

you see your hand in the kitchen and you see the light of the fridge click on and some part of you says go back into the living room, you're missing the good part. this is how you spent most of your childhood: when you weren't in the room, it was alright. being in the room was the problem. you spent so much being present wishing someone would notice if you left. you love these people. there is something fundamentally wrong with your head. you stand in the kitchen and feel that rabid heart of yours; the one that tries to make you leave any situation, even when you're wanted.

you don't have this anymore. the mashed potatoes you pull out of tupperware containers spell out big letters on the counter. when you wake up, this isn't the life you have anymore.

sometimes that's an amazing thing - you are so glad you're out of this fucking house. when the peace breaks here, it shatters into months-long screaming. these gulfs and valleys are illusions. you're holding your breath even in the memory, waiting for the wrong thing to happen, the thing that splinters the family.

but sometimes... it would be nice to have this version of the house back. the fire is roaring. someone is laughing so hard it sounds like they're crying, wheezing through the story they're telling, michael buble is singing. in a few hours it will be time for pie, but in the meantime you're going to watch some fast and the furious something. you're all going to talk over most of it, quip lines at each other like it's mystery science theatre. you're all just about to start a board game or maybe a family art project. you're just about to hang up garlands.

someone asked you recently - what if you wake up and it's november of 2013. there are a lot of things that you would be horrified by. the things you'd have to relive, the bitter slow pain of recovery. and fuck, you'd still have to escape him, and the parts of this house that are ugly. to deliver yourself, mangled, into the long road you take in therapy. fuck that entirely.

but you'd also have this moment back, standing half in the kitchen and half in the living room, talk-shouting at your siblings, wiggling and dancing, throwing karate chops at each other and splitting the last crescent roll and gleefully telling college stories your mother really doesn't want to know. the house like this is warm, held in this space before-things. in this world it will be a few years before your family is splintered. these days you have to get in a car to travel to each visit, looping each person together in a little embroidery constellation. here it is loud. it will be a few years before the holidays are quiet, reserved, a little distant.

in the dream, you waver, your hand outstretched. for the love of god, go back the room. go back in and tell them you love them, tell them what this means to you. for the love of god, go now!

you're gonna wake up soon.

[shrenvents]

Competition

Warnings: Smut, M!receiving, penetration (w protection), language, enemies (ish) to lovers

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x reader

Summary: After "Beef's" rebranding as "The Bear," business at your cafe has declined, which left you furious, and that anger only worsened after meeting the restaurant's owner.

Word count: 3.4k

...

Ever since I was young, I've always had this unnecessary, aggressive competitiveness, which has only grown since its opening; The Bear, formerly known as "Beef," has become Chicago's newest hit. Its success has been so impactful, that it's driven away numerous customers, including regulars from my spot, just across the street.

My cafe has been open for years. Its income has been steady from the get-go, and the presence of a certain sandwich shop has never deterred that. Not until said sandwich place suddenly turned into a high-end restaurant. It crossed my mind that it simply shut down due to its infamous unpopularity, but Richie was still waltzing into my cafe to order coffee, as per usual.

So, being curious enough about what had happened to "The Beef," I go visit, expecting to be greeted by the "ever-so-pleasant" owner, Michael. But instead—

"Uh, he died," Neil mutters rather awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers. My eyes expand in complete shock.

"Oh my god, sorry, I had no idea." I grimace at my lack of sensitivity. "It's alright." He shakes his head.

Silence envelops us both before I speak again. "So, um, how come you're still here? If you don't mind me asking?" I grimace again at my poor choice of words, saying, "I swear I'm not trying to be rude." Neil tilts his head in confusion. "Whatta mean?"

"I just assumed you wouldn't be, here, since...?"

"Ah, yeah, Mike left the place to his little bro, Carmy." He waves his arms around, gesturing to the restaurant's interior. "And he did all this, sick right?"

"Yeah... Sick." I mumble with a pout, failing to hide my contempt, but my sour mood goes right over his head.

"Fak!" A man's loud, demanding voice, quiets my rearing thoughts. "Fak! What the fuck are you doing? I need you in here." The voice grows stronger as the chef it belongs to pushes through the kitchen doors. I just about hold my breath at the sight of him. In his all-white get-up, his deep blue eyes have yet to notice me, as he addresses Neil angrily. "The fucking toilet's still broken." He throws his arm up in frustration, "So would you please, get off your ass and fix it!" He commands Neil, and I jump at his dangerous tone. My brows furrow. There was no need for him to shout so rudely, not to mention that it was really bothering me, how he had yet to acknowledge my presence even once. Not only was he stealing my business, but he didn't give a rats-ass about it.

"Shit! Yeah, on it! I was just talking to—"

"Y/n." I announce my name roughly, and his eyes bounce from Neil to me instantly. Appearing startled, he hesitates to extend his palm for a handshake. "Carmy, sorry about him—" Just as he begins waving off Fak, apologizing for his behaviour, I snap.

"No, he was the perfect gentleman, as always," I protest, "I just came to check on the competition." Carmy's brows knit together, and I can feel the vein in my forehead pop out. "I own the cafe across the street," I state plainly, and he slowly nods in recognition. "It was nice to see you, have a great day," I commend with a smile, directed only to Neil. With that, I spin out the door, stomping vigorously towards my shop.

...

The next time I saw Carmy was nearly a month later, on garbage day. He happened to be taking the trash out that evening, exactly when I was. I sigh at how little he struggles to lift several trash bags. Looking away, I huff as I throw the plastic sacks into the massive tin container. After finishing, I stretch out my back, rubbing my hands together. Shortly rolling my head back, I observe the evening sky. I exhale, releasing a breath of cool air from my lips.

My skin pricks as I feel someone watching me and shift my gaze towards "The Bear." I instantly identify the sapphire eyes latched onto me. When I catch Carmy, his eyes fly in every which direction, clearly embarrassed. 'The hell? Okay dickhead, hello to you too.' I think, shaking my head as I go inside, once again, feeling the heat of his stare as I do.

An hour later, I complete the last of my chores before locking up the cafe. Removing the key from the door, I pivot towards my car. However, I stumble when a figure standing not far behind me approaches, causing me to unleash a horrid scream from the depths of my throat. Carmy's eyes widen, evidently apologetic and equally terrified. "Uh sorry! I didn't mean—"

"What the actual fuck, is your problem?" I practically hiss.

"Sorry, I was thinking about saying something before you turned around. But then I second-guessed myself and just did nothing," Carmy blabbers, "I'm really really sorry."

"Okay okay." I put up my hands in surrender to stop his rambling. It's rather disarming, after our first meeting, hearing how he sounds so... Timid. "Sorry." He mumbles once more, head hung low.

"You're good," I reassure him with a sigh, to cover up an unexpected giggle. "Um, so what're you doing, here?"

"Oh!" He jolts upright and his eyes shoot from the ground to mine. "I just wanted to uh, talk."

"You 'wanted to talk'?" I question, a brow arching in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," Carmy replies with uncertainty.

Folding my arms, I sigh, "About?"

"Oh, um, just about, how I acted when we met," Carmy scowls at the memory. "I should've introduced myself way sooner, and not in such a—"

"Rude way," I interject, which seems to be a common occurrence between us.

"Heard." He huffs out what sounds like a laugh, "Exactly that." I then shift uncomfortably under his intense watch. "It's alright, I didn't exactly intend to be gracious myself," I utter, returning a similar, shy smile.

"No, no." His smile widens, "You were..." He and his gaze trail off, lowering to the concrete. "'Were'?" I repeat, imploring him to continue.

"Great." Carmy finishes, peering up again. His eyes appear somewhat different, and I feel an unfamiliar chill slide down my spine. "Wow." My eyebrows rise. "'Great,' that's a, really, kind of you," I splutter with a chuckle. Carmy joins in, laughing at himself.

After a beat of silence and a few stolen glances at one another, Carmy speaks up. "I know I should've said it a while ago, but I'd like to be on good terms, rather than 'competition'." My sight hones in on his active hands as they switch between fiddling with his back pockets and shaking. "I'd like that too," I murmur, scratching the back of my head. "If only you'd stop stealing my customers," I smirk.

"Oh?" He smiles playfully and tilts his head, "So that's how it's gonna be," he jests, laughing again.

"Hmmm," I hum in confirmation, slightly troubled by how flirtatious I'm being. But damn, the way he's always looking at me —it's throwing me off...

Flushed, I conclude our conversation, "I'll see you around," then walk to my car. He almost, absentmindedly, wanders alongside me. "Yeah, see you."

While I unlock my car, Carmy's already one step ahead of me, hauling the car door open. I thank him in a whisper as I bend into the front seat, brushing past him, and he tenses. He then mumbles my name with a "Goodnight," and I sit in silence, long after he leaves, breathless.

...

The next day, I feel giddy at the prospect of seeing Carmy. It's ridiculous, considering he was my neighbour, and I was bound to see him. Though I've actually had to refrain from seeking him out.

However, that afternoon, through the glass of both our eateries, we see one another, pause, smile slowly, and head back to work.

From that point on, that sort of thing became a routine. Every day that week, I saw him for at least 50 seconds. It was even better knowing he was a chef, so the likelihood of him seeing him out front was low, but still, each time he'd be there.

Come Sunday, I couldn't delay things any longer. It was a little disheartening that he hadn't come over himself or even thought to come and ask for my number.

Thus, I knew I had to be the one to make a move. So, after closing earlier than usual, I saunter across the street. Inside, Neil greets me with an ample smile. "Hey Neil," I wave. He virtually shouts my name in return. "Hey! What you in for?" He asks cheerfully.

"I was hoping for some dinner," I chuckle. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and the anticipation is killing me. While Neil leads me to a table, my eyes don't leave the kitchen's entrance.

Neil takes my order, and my ears attentively listen for those few moments, when the restaurant's crowd temporarily quiets down, and I hear his assertive voice filter through the walls.

...

As delicious as my meal is, I can't stop my anxiety from getting the best of me. It's plausible Neil didn't bother letting Carmy know that I was here. But I'm nearly vibrating with dread, waiting for him to materialize.

Eventually, it's closing time and the herd of patrons leave. I take the opportunity to call Neil over. "Hey, I was just wondering if Carmy was in? Just wanna say hello, be neighbourly and all," I beam innocently.

"Course!" He winks but doesn't move to get Carmy. So, after a long beat staring into Fak's clueless eyes (bless him), I come up with something dicey. "Could you let him know that my food's uncooked, and I'm very, very upset," I express sharply, biting back a grin.

"O-okay?" Neil stutters, confusion and distress written across his features. I suppress my laugh with my palm.

Five minutes later, I hear a loud and hostile "what" seep through the walls. My attempts to muffle my laughter are stumped when Carmy abruptly bursts through the doors. He freezes when he sees me, and I watch the doors rapidly swing behind him. I awkwardly raise my hand in hello, and I swear he gulps.

"I was joking, Carmy." Now growing nervous, I tear my eyes away from him, onto my clear plate and see him move towards me from my peripheral. "It was, pretty good actually," I remark, downplaying the truth.

As I open my mouth to fill the silence, I peek up to see Carmy sitting right in front of me, and I lose my train of thought. It's as though we're on a date, and that's the most normal thing in the world, something we've done countless times before.

"I was planning on coming to see you after work." His sheepish, yet deep timbre makes me shudder.

"Beat you to it then?" I smirk smugly.

"Didn't we say this wasn't a rivalry?" He smirks back, and my stomach forms knots. "Nothing wrong with some friendly competition," I retort, and his reply is a simple, pleasant smile.

"Well Chef, I'm sorry to hear you're closing soon," I sigh. Still smiling, he raises his brows, "Because?"

"Because the food was decent, but I'm still quite hungry." I proclaim teasingly, shrugging. He chuckles lowly, "We can't have that."

...

Now sitting on Carmy's kitchen stool while he cooks me an omelet on his stove, I inspect his backside. The muscles tense and shift as he moves expertly through the room.

"I hope this suits your refined palette," Carmy remarks with a certain ease that he didn't have before. He pushes a plate towards me, and I reel at how domestic this all feels. I lick my lips in excitement as the delicious, potent smell of the dish consumes my senses.

Taking a bite, I withhold a moan, and close my eyes so he doesn't catch them rolling to the back of my head. Swallowing, I open my lids to see Carmy's eyes studying me, expectingly awaiting a reaction. "It's alright," I state monotonously.

Eyes and mouth expanding, he smacks his hands on his chest, overlapping them over top of his heart, like he's been shot, and a laugh escapes me. "I make it better," I contest.

"I don't doubt that," he responds without a hint of condescension, and I gape at him before giggling nervously, eyeing my omelette.

"So, what would satisfy your elite tastes?" His words may be rather suggestive, but his tone is short and reserved. Glancing up at his expression, I note the way he sluggishly runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His view then trains over my features, lingering on my lips...

Not giving him a chance to refocus on anything but my mouth, I lunge at his. Capturing his lips with mine, I hear a fumble of noises leave him pitifully. The sounds morph into a mixture of bewilderment and a cavernous groan. His hesitancy is brief as one of his hands curves behind my head, into my hair, while the other gropes my waist, bunching up my shirt in a tight fist. His groaning becomes more brazen, and I devour every single one.

Our tongues fight each other, and our hips wrestle with the kitchen island that separates us. Determined to feel more of him, I pull away from his wretched kiss. He instinctively chases after me, but my hands firmly press against his chest, which seems to bring his attention to my eyes. He more or less whines to himself.

I lick my swollen lips, holding eye contact in hopes it would help him understand what I wanted.

His grasp moves from my torso, to hold my hand, tugging me towards what I assume is his bedroom. As he maneuvers around the counter, I decide that I just can't wait. So, when we pass his living room area, I drag him back, and to his surprise, shove him onto his couch.

His back hits the cushions and he releases a grunt. Immediately, I straddle his hips and he makes haste to grip my hips, pressing me further onto his crotch. I whimper nosily, and it's his turn to hum back. "You're so..."

"Great?" I quip.

"Beautiful, is what I was gonna say— should've said." His baby blues melt me to my core. The intimacy of his look and words, somehow mean so much more, than everything we've just done.

After a short break of just breathing in each other, I press my lips to his gently, pecking them. This seems to snap him out of whatever trance he's under, as a peck is clearly not enough.

His hefty grip on my hips increases and encourages me to lean closer. His mouth dictates my every move and sound, and I wriggle above him. "Carmy," I whine desperately, begging for more.

He lets go of me to strip, sitting upright to remove his white-collar shirt. I moan at the sight, before copying him, working my shirt off. When I struggle, he rips the cotton over my head, throwing it to the floor in one swift motion. His mouth quickly draws me back in, nibbling my bottom lip.

Breaking away, I whisper, "As good as you taste, this isn't enough to satisfy me, Chef." Peering up at me through hooded eyes, he looks dazed but nods nonetheless.

My breath hitches as Carmy rears me onto my back, moving us so that his larger frame hovers over my smaller one. He unbuckles his belt clumsily and glides his jeans down his stocky thighs. I chew my lip as I gawk at the impressive bulge tucked into his black briefs. When he reaches for my bra clip, he freezes. "Shit," he exclaims airily, shoving a hand into his curly locks. I flinch, stammering, "W-what?"

"Condom," he states flatly.

"You ran out?" I joke, brows lifting.

"No, I don't do this often," he discloses, ears reddening. Silence eats up the space, and allows us to register what Carmy so bluntly, admitted. Not that I minded at all.

"I have had sex before—"

"I know," I squeal, guffawing at his prompt confession. "I think I have some in my purse." I soothe, encircling his bicep with my index finger. He lets out a sigh of relief, and I giggle like a schoolgirl when he springs to his feet, racing towards my bag.

Carmy's footsteps thud against the floorboards as he races away, half-naked. I fasten my lips together to prevent an extensive grin. When he reenters the room, I lift my body weight onto my forearms for support, cruising my eyes over his body, spying the condom between his dense fingers.

When he straddles my legs, meaning to resume where he left off, an impulse consumes my thoughts. Wordlessly, I place my palms on his thighs, spreading my digits atop his sturdy legs, to push him back. Then, kneeling on the floor in front of Carmy, I smile devilishly. I feel him trembling and the whole scene feels so erotic.

Looking up, I catch his gaze, as it adorns me, in a sort of awe. "There's something I have been craving, Chef," I murmur whilst running my tongue over my teeth. Carmy shudders as my fingers weave into his waistband, tugging them down.

While he's undressing, his briefs hanging on his chaves, I admire how his eyes flutter shut, and he mumbles nonsense to himself.

His cock engulfs my sight and brushes my cheek a bit. Carmy sucks in a sharp breath, tilting his head to watch me. Despite being taken aback by his size, I begin to stoke him. He gasps and his stomach constricts immediately.

Picking up my pace after a few pumps, I kiss his tip and his thighs shake. "Christ," he mewls. I take his noisy reaction as an encouragement to surge forward, wrapping my tongue and lips over him, and driving his cock to the back of my throat. "Fuck!" Carmy shouts.

As he gets closer to the edge, his words of appraisal jumble together in fits of, "yes, like that," "faster," and some "perfect" comments, among many other things I can't comprehend anymore. I'm lost in his touch, which tangles my hair, clasping it tightly. Before Carmy finishes, he cups my face and yanks himself out of my mouth.

Eyes shut and face twisted in both euphoria and frustration, he grumbles, "Fuck, I said I didn't wanna cum yet."

I simply smack my lips together, savouring his taste. Carmy appears stunned as holds my face. I smirk wickedly and a short puff of air abandons him.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks, and his jagged voice makes his question sound like an order, and I love it. "Please," I pant and he kisses my forehead before dragging me back on the sofa, underneath him again.

Positioning himself, Carmy rips open the condom with his teeth and rolls it over himself. He sucks in a coarse breath as he pushes into my entrance, and I do the same. He moans my name and I choke on a sob as he bottoms out, in one, mind-numbing jolt. His hands tighten on my hips, pressing me into the couch as I arch upwards. We both moan nonsensically, adoring the friction and how seamlessly we fit together.

Moving synchronously, we fight for our highs, grinding into a rhythm that makes us gasp in pleasure. With my name on his lips, they seize mine, and his tongue laps every corner of my mouth, as he slowly takes control. I writhe under him and he thrusts harder, hitting all the right places. Shortly, my body grows almost limp, unable to keep up with the tide of desire above, bucking into me.

As I reach my end, he keeps going, simultaneously kissing and nipping my neck, surely leaving numerous marks, but I don't care. He just feels too good, deep inside, strong and brutal.

I cry out as core contracts, clamping down on him, and making his untamed movements stutter. I cum hard, gasping as tremors rack through me. Soon after, Carmy whimpers, craning his neck back as cums inside. With a lengthy sigh that eases into a loud moan, he holds us still. He dips his sweat-covered forehead into the crook of my neck and hums in satisfaction.

After a few minutes of catching our breath, and enjoying the weight of his body over top of mine, he heaves himself up to kiss my mouth once more.

"Go out with me, please," he urges politely as if he isn't still inside of me. I laugh lightly, then tense in surprise when my core clenches over his cock, and he winces as well.

Exhaling steadily, I breathe, "I would love to."

[solangelotus]

preview of the luke lovers to enemies?? maybe a glimpse of them as lovers and also them as enemies?

i’ve written the first part and it's been posted here! 🫣 i have only written one of the lover parts but it's kinda boring compared to other plans, but i WILL give a glimpse of the enemies from the first part too! 🫶🫶 the title of this series (as of right now at least) is seven devils!

you and luke as enemies:

the conch sounds break through the woods and you can hear cheering, you know it’s from your team. will and michael successfully kept chris and annabeth distracted. luke is furious, you can tell from the way his nose crinkles and the furrow between his brows. he stabs his sword into the ground right beside you and you flinch. “we would have fucking won if it wasn’t for you!”

“it’s just a game, luke,” you groan out, your chest and lungs still burning. you try to sit up but you feel so delirious, you knew your head had hit the ground but you didn’t realize you had hit it so hard. where was the adrenaline you had just a few moments ago?

“if it’s just a game, then why would you stab me?!”

“you swung your sword at my head!” you yell, wincing at your own volume. you hear footsteps and silently pray that it’s lee coming to intercept after the announcement of your team’s victory.

“because you messed me up, you fucked me over! how dare you?!” he yells at you, the tears welling up in your eyes. his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed; this isn’t about the game.

“how dare i? how dare fucking you?!” you scream back until you feel a hand grab yours. you swear your vision briefly goes out as you turn your head too quickly. lee is at your side and shushing you as he pushes your hair from your face.

you and luke before, as lovers:

from the curve of his nose to his pink, plump lips. freckles dotted across his cheeks in the most beautiful constellations. the moon shone bright over the ocean tonight, and you say a silent prayer to your aunt, artemis, for the glow that lights up his face. he’s beautiful, you think, and you wonder how you got so lucky. “i can feel you staring at me, sunny.”

“shut up,” you murmur, and push him lightly. he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest as he leans back against the sand. you groan as you feel the coarse sand against your free arm. “luke, you’re going to get sand all over us!”

“who cares? you need a shower anyways,” he jokes, making a sniffing sound as he scrunches up his nose. you gasp and try to pull away from him, but his grip remains too strong. the heat of his hands burns into the exposed skin of your waist and wrist. there’s no denying your enjoyment of his hands holding you so tightly to him, and you wish you could stay in this moment forever. “let me know when you want to head back to the cabins.”

[clio-just-clio]

@detectivehole , unprompted, at 4 am

[Transcript:

"Jeremy Massachusetts 1985, get your ass downstairs right fucking now!" my mom yelled at me, early one morning. she's a real bitch when she's off her ketamine. that's my name, by the way, but everyone just calls me Jerma985. im 38 years old, highschool senior, with mid length chestnut brown hair and cerulean blue orbs. im kinda plain looking, but i think i'm passably pretty i guess. nothing like the other girls at school... like ludwig- he always gets all the boys. whatever. "coming, mom!" i shout down in an annoyed tone. i throw on a quick, sporty cute outfit; white tank top, blue shorts, white cartoon gloves, and black sneakers. i sweep my silky locks away from my face, and try to smile in my vanity mirror. it doesn't reach my eyes. "goodbye, michael. im off for another horrible day at Twitch High..." i say to my pet rat as i grab my backpack and baseball club gear and head for breakfast. when i get downstairs, i don't see any food. "mom," i ask, "what's going on?" she puts down her four cigarettes and glares at me with her burning, furious globes. "i ran out of money for drugs- even the cheap shit like pank paint to huff- so im selling you for crack money." "what?!" i yell, feeling like i've just been run through a meat grinder. "that's right. you new owner is outside right now. grab your shit and get the fuck outta here, you psycho." she says, fishing out a heroin needle. i turn away, holding back tears, and head for the door to accept my new fate- when i open it, i expect to be greeted by some freak who's going to just use me to farm content, but that's not the case. in front of me is my new owner, and he is...

"hey" he intones handsomely, "how many baseballs can you fit up your ass?"

...the one and only ballfondler!!!

like for part two of my jerma fanfiction]

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 6

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~

❤️ Series Masterlist

“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 

He stood there with determination set across his face.

“We really need to talk.”

“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer. 

Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.

You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”

“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”

He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown. 

“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”

“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven. 

“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.

You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.

The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.

“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”

Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”

That sparked your anger once more.

“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.

“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”

You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.

“She got pregnant,” he admitted.

Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.

“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”

You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.

How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?

And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?

You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.

“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”

He looked down then, with shame coloring his features. 

Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.

You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.

“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”

You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.  

“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”

You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned. 

“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked. 

“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.

You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer. 

“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”

“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct. 

Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief. 

You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will. 

Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.

You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.

After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.

He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave. 

Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.

He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you. 

As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.

Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.

He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time. 

And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?

He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.

So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.

A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.

He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.

He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.

The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.

“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.

Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.

“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.

“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.

“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.

He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.

“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.

And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.

“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.

“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.  

After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.

“Did he push you?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said. 

“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”

Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer. 

“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”

You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder. 

“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.

“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.

“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”

He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.

Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist. 

“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly. 

“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass. 

He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.

He turned to leave.

You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this. 

Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”

“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.

Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.

“Hey!” he called out.

Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.

“What?” he shot back.

“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.

“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”

Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.

“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.

“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”

Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.

“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.

Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.

Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.

“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”

Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.

It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.

And your door was locked.

On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.

“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.

“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.

“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.

“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too. 

Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape. 

“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.

“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”

Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile. 

“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”

Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.

“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”

You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”

“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Okay.”

A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.

“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.

You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.

“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”

Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.

“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.

“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”

Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”

He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.

How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.

Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.

“It went south so fast,” he said.

And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.

You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.

“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”

Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”

Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.

“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”

You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”

“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”

He continued to drink his beer.

“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”

You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.

“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”

“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.” 

He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”

His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting. 

You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin. 

“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”

You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.

“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder. 

“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”

“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.  

“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”

Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.

But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.

And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt. 

It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.

Hey, where are you?

“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.

“Then you should go,” you said.

You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.

The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.

Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.

“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.

“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.” 

He looked at you in wonder. 

“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”

A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”

Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”

Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.

Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.

He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.

While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.

He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.

Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.

He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.

“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip. 

“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.

You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”

Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way. 

Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.

“Nope,” he muttered.

He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today. 

He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.

AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...

Next Time:

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”

“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.

“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 7

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

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Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[ryotono]

Hashiras/Pillars and [Y/N] and quotes and mucho rizz hihi (sorry)

Feat. Kamaboko squad!

Enjoy!

When Tanjiro attacks sanemi:

[Y/N]: GET HIM BOY, F*CKING KICK HIS ASS AYOOO

Giyuu: so it's you the bad influence

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

In the Battle against Upper moon one:

[Y/N] looking at Kokushibo: so, he is your like great-great-grandfather?

Muichiro: yes

[Y/N]: oh...

[Y/N]: is he single?

Muichiro: wtf

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Tanjiro: what's your breathing style? you're a hashira, so must be something really cool!

[Y/N]: I can tell you only if you promise it's a secret between us

Tanjiro: oh ofc!

[Y/N] get closer: it's rizz

Tanjiro: what

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Zenitsu: what do you mean "Rizz" that's not even a breathing style-

[Y/N] pointing to the other pillars: do you see all that people?

Zenitsu: yes?

[Y/N]: all of them are my bitches, except for muichiro, muichiro is my baby

[Y/N]: so don't do "tHaT's NoT eVeN a BrEaThInG sTyLE" to me boy, because my rizz is upper than you ever gonna be, understood?

Zenitsu, crying: y-yes sir

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hashira meeting:

Giyuu: y'all joking, [Y/N] doesn't have a crush in me

Gyomei: yes they do

Uzui: sadly they do

Sanemi: they fucking do you blind ass f*cker ("no offense gyomei" "it's okay")

Mitsuri: they do!!! ^^

Muichiro: that cloud looks like a duck, ha

Shinobu: they do tomioka san

Rengoku: NO JOKES, THEY DO PARTNER!

Obanai: they do, and it's disgusting

[Y/N]: yes I do, very much actually

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

[Y/N]: okay but what about your great-great-uncle?

Muichiro: leave me alone

[Y/N]: answer the question muichiro, ANSWER

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Inosuke: HEY YOU, THE HASHIRA

[Y/N]: hm, me?

Inosuke: YES, FIGHT ME!

[Y/N]: HOLY SH*T PEPPA PIG??

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

[Y/N]: I don't understand, how could i have food poisoning?

Shinobu: did you eat something strange?

[Y/N]: no! I just made me some food

Shinobu: that explains a lot

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

[Y/N]: so you telling that we have to beat Michael Jackson?

Ubuyashiki: yes- wait, who-

[Y/N]: what if "HEE HEE" us? I'm scared, rengoku hold me

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

[Y/N]: I’ve only had Kamaboko Squad for a day and a half

[Y/N]: but if anything happened to them I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sanemi: WHAT DID YOU SAY?

[Y/N]: i said that if you keep screaming and threatening your beautiful little brother, I'm gonna get your sword and f*cking shove in your ass, got it :)?

Sanemi: alright

let's try again

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sanemi: WHAT DID YOU SAY?

[Y/N]: I hate you, but at the same time I want to kiss you so bad, and give you all the love and support you deserve babe

Sanemi: ???

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

[Y/N] in a mission with Mitsuri and Obanai:

Obanai, obviously furious: can't you just go away? There's enough pillars in this mission

[Y/N]: yeah I can go, but I don't want to miss your failure to confess to Mitsuri, start dating, eventually getting married and have kids, living happy, but because your such a weakass, none of this is going to happen

Obanai: ... You don't need to say that y'know

[Y/N]: oh yes I need

just kidding I love obanai

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Gyomei: hello there

[Y/N]: boobs

Gyomei: sorry?

[Y/N] sweating: i-i mean titties- NO I MEAN BIG MEN BOOBS F*CK I MEAN HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU??

Gyomei:

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

X: Master Ubuyashiki, we need to stop the Hashira [Y/N]

Ubuyashiki: why is that

X: They are adopting all the kids here, started with that group with the demon sister, then the younger brothers of the Wind and Flame Pillar and the girls from Butterfly State, even the Mist Pillar are gone

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Akaza: guess it's your end now rengoku

[Y/N]: THE FUCK IT'S NOT YOUR KICKED BASKETBALL SON OF A BI-

TANJIRO: WHERE'D YOU EVEN COME FROM?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Extra!

Akaza: and suddenly appears this crackhead kinda of demon slayer, and starts barking at me

Kokushibo: like a dog?

Akaza: yes

Demon [Y/N]: heh, I like them

TWO [Y/N]'S????? AND CRACKHEAS??? PROTECT YOUR CHILDREN PEOPLE

That's all for today! Thank you all for reading and interacting with my other posts ;) Love y'all!!!!

(English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any misspelling or errors)

[ask-adamsapple66]

Fight With Lucifer

Behind the scenes, Adam, Hazbin Hotel @ 7:45pm.

Adam sat there on the floor of his shared room at the hotel with Lucifer. Lucifer had just left in an angry blaze of fire, they had just had their worst fight ever since getting together.

Adam covered his mouth to muffle a sob, his eyes watered with tears. He fucked up, he really fucked up and he knew it. Why didn't he pick up on the fact that Lucifer was actually getting pissed off and not playfully pissed off?

How can you possibly be this useless? It's no wonder no one would ever willingly want you. Lilith's voice echoed in his mind.

Adam: What the fuck is wrong with me?

You're a stupid useless piece of shit that's what.

Adam got up off the floor and went to the bathroom, he looked himself in the mirror and hated what he saw. What did Lucifer even see in him?

Temporary insanity probably.

Adam: Shut up.

Don't be surprised when he asks you for his ring back, you clearly don't deserve it.

Adam: SHUT UP!!

Adam hauled off and punched the bathroom mirror as hard as he could shattering it into many broken pieces. A physical representation of his heart right now.

His hand was bleeding but he didn't care. He wrapped it in a little gaze and walked out. Adam looked at the bed.

Their bed.

He couldn't sleep there, it would be too cold and lonely.

Adam walked out of their room and into his old room, he wouldn't sleep there either he just wanted to grab his angelic steel blade if he was going to go out.

He grabbed his blade and made his way to the hotel, he couldn't let himself feel sad around others so he placed the comfortable mask of anger on. Adam was angry at that fucking fat jester Christmas tree, pissed at that douchbag Michael for saying whatever it was he said, and more than anything Adam was furious at himself for being so fucking stupid.

But that's nothing new is it?

When Adam passed Alastor in the hallway the radio demon sneered at him.

Alastor: What's the matter, trouble in paradise?

Adam: Fuck off asshole.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

Alastor: What, your short little-

Adam saw red, he turned and stabbed Alastors hand to the wall with the blade, the radio demon actually yelped in pain.

Adam: Do not fucking talk about him like that. Next time it will be your heart, if you even have one.

Adam removed the blade and stalked away and left the hotel. No one in the city bothered him as he walked around at night, people may not mind getting beaten and dying but they didn't want to permanently die. Seeing the angelic blade on his hip kept people away.

Adam went into the Heaven Embassy, he may not be able to go down to Greed and fuck up that fat prick, but he can call down the other one.

There was a phone on the desk in the Embassy, Adam picked it up and he got ahold of Peter.

Peter: Hello, Heavens Gate this is Peter.

Adam groaned: Yeah, it's me get Michael down here.

Peter: Adam?

Adam: No it's Santa Claus.

Peter: Yeah it's you Adam..... Look I can't just get Michael to-

Adam: I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF HE'S GETTING A BLOWJOB YOU TELL THAT SON OF A BITCH TO GET HIS UGLY MUG DOWN HERE!!! AND NOT A HOLOGRAM EITHER!!

Peter: ...... One moment.

Adam didn't have to wait long before he was told to go to the nearest room where Michael looked pissed to see him.

Michael: What do you want?

Adam: The fuck did you say to him?

Michael: Who?

Adam growled and glared at him: WHO DO YOU THINK!?

Michael: Oh, him? Please, what's the matter did he get his little feelings, I know how short he can be with people, is he-

Adam had heard enough and punched Michael in the eye so hard it already started to bruise.

Adam: That's for whatever you said to him and what you just said now asshole!

Michael: You are going to regret that! Extermination Day is coming, maybe someone will finally finish the job so you can return to the filthy dirt where you belong.

Oh, maybe you should just stand outside and let someone do you in.

Adam: Lay the fuck off of him, or I'll be sure this finds it's way through your fucking eye.

Adam held up the blade.

Michael: That a threat?

Adam: More like a promise.

Adam turned to leave as Michael called out to him one last time.

Michael: What does he see in you?

Adams heart clenched in his chest, he wondered the same thing.

Adam: Fuck off.

Adam left, he didn't know if he just made things worse but Michael deserved a good punch in the fucking face for more than just today.

He didn't know how long he was walking around for, but the night was very dark the only light coming from the moon in the sky. Adam, found himself at the park.

Adam walked over to where their tree was and he felt his anger melt away and sadness creep back in.

A + L inside a heart carved into the tree. Adam remembered the day Lucifer did that.

Adam was leaning against the tree, the day was actually cool for once.

Adam: What are you doing?

Lucifer: Scoot over for a second.

Adam didn't question it and did as he was told, Lucifer sat down on his knees and used his claw to carve into the tree. Sure it was a little cheesy, but Adam was touched that Lucifer wanted to do something like that.

Lucifer: So we can always find our spot.

Adam: Our spot?

Lucifer cupped one of his cheeks: Yeah, our spot where we can come and just be together.

Adam: I love that Luci.

Lucifer smiled: Good.

He leaned in and kissed Adam under their tree.

That was one of the first times they came here for a date. Adams eyes welled up with tears as he gently touched the carving.

Fuck, he was so stupid......

Well you come by is honestly.

Adam walked away from the tree, it hurt too much to look at it. He sat down in front of the pond, there were a few ducks there swimming around. Hell ducks were like the ones on earth only they had horns for some reason.

One came over and Adam picked it up, it quacked at him and he smiled sadly, lip quivering. He'd never be able to look at one again without thinking of Lucifer.....

He placed the little duck in the water and it swam away. His eyes landed on his engagement ring again.

Adam wouldn't blame Lucifer if he wanted his ring back. Lu deserved someone better than Adam.

Some soulmate he turned out to be.....

Like you ever deserved him.

That one wasn't Lilith, it was him. He didn't deserve everything Lucifer did for him, he didn't deserve his kindness, and he sure as shit didn't deserve his love.

So if he wanted his ring back........ Which he probably did, Adam had never seen him that mad, Adam wouldn't put up a fight.

Adam pulled his knees to his chest as tears fell from his eyes.

Lucifer deserved to be happy, even if it wasn't with him.

@the-king-of-hell-66-6

[milflewis]

Soulmate AU

1.

When Sebastian first meets Nico Rosberg — and his hair more specifically — again after the crash, he nearly pisses his pants laughing.

“I see you have a type, eh?” He asks Lewis. He runs a hand through his own blond hair.

“Tell me,” he starts, leaning forward over Lewis’s left shoulder. Bono is saying something in the seat beside Lewis. Lewis’s face is relaxed and calm.

“Did you jerk off to Michael too? Blond, German, very fast. He’d fit in your collection.”

Lewis’s face doesn’t even flicker. When he asks a question about whatever Bono is saying, his voice is steady and quiet. They could be back in their regular driver briefings. Something in Sebastian’s chest swells up, pushing at his heart and lungs, mean and sour.

“Don’t worry,” he tells Lewis. “We all did. Can’t have you thinking you are special, hmm?”

2.

There are stories — old ones — that one hears over the years.

Stories of those who don’t meet their soulmates properly in life, and so join them in death.

Sebastian used to love stories.

When he opens his eyes after going into the wall too fast and too hard, he is standing beside Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis is talking to Ted, the camera on. His eyes are shadowed and his shoulders are curved slightly inwards.

When he sees Sebastian next to him, he startles, mouth falling open. “I — You.”

“Lewis?” Ted is frowning, concerned. “Are you alright?” He has a hand up as if to tell the cameraman to get ready to stop rolling. Or to zoom in on Lewis’s face. Sebastian isn’t sure.

“Um.” Lewis blinks, swallowing. He glances at Ted and then back at Sebastian.

Never let it be said that Sebastian isn’t ever helpful.

“He can’t see me, I think,” Sebastian says, and then mimes a blowjob with his hand and mouth, tongue in cheek, in front of Ted, who doesn’t stop staring at Lewis.

“Right, yeah,” Lewis says, as shakey as Sebastian has ever heard him. “Um.”

“Funny story,” Sebastian says, furious. He wants his dad. He stays looking into Lewis’s tired shocked face. He thinks if he sees his mom, he will never be able to stop crying “Turns out we are soulmates.”

“Lewis, you okay? Do you need a minute?”

Lewis inhales. Sebastian can see him visibly remember there is a camera on him. When he smiles, it is a thin slight of a thing.

“Sorry, man, what was your question again?”

3.

Lewis gets more curled in on himself as the year goes on, face thin. Quieter too. Him and Nico snap and snap at each other’s heels. Toto nearly has a stroke keeping them from biting.

Sebastian is self aware enough to know that he is not helping. That his commentary — one sided that it is as no one other than Lewis can hear him and Lewis rarely responds, not through words nor expressions — is only making things worse for him.

He can’t bring himself to care.

It drives the cold away a little. That short spark of satisfaction and victory when he pokes and pokes and pokes and Lewis keeps a straight face through it all.

Sometimes, if Lewis breaks, either in a flinch or an aborted eye roll, or god forbid, a laugh, then Sebastian can even make himself pretend that he is still alive.

“I have a question,” Sebastian declares. He is standing over by the window, looking out at the paddock.

Lewis ignores him.

Nico is saying something in response to James Allison. He looks tense. The entire room looks tense. Sebastian rolls his shoulders.

“Did you stop fucking Nico before I died, or do you only not like exhibitionism? I could leave if you want privacy.”

This makes Lewis look at him. It is a quick glance, cutting and sarcastic, eyebrows slightly raised. He somehow manages to look pissed and amused and embarrassed, all at the same time.

Sebastian smiles sunnily at him. It is often exhausting to be around Lewis, especially when he is like this. Lewis might be quiet, packed in tightly, but he spills over most of the time. No one can ever accuse him of being small.

“You are right, I guess,” Sebastian muses thoughtfully. “I would not leave you alone. I would be too bored.”

Nico wins. Nico retires. Lewis disappears home for the break. Sebastian follows his brother around for a few months, chattering at him, even though Fabian doesn’t ever respond. It’s not that different from before if he is being honest.

There is a Lewis light in his chest, always pulling. It’s not that bad of a sore, Sebastian reasons. Only a little achey.

4.

Formula One has started back up again when Sebastian follows the tug back to Lewis.

Lewis doesn’t say anything at Sebastian’s sudden appearance in the garage. His shoulders relax slightly though when Sebastian makes a quick quip about Valtteri’s blond — Seriously, Lewis, Sebastian thinks, half fond — hair.

He looks less like a scrunched up tissue someone used to blow their nose with. Sebastian tells him this. He catches Lewis’s badly smothered eye roll in the sleek reflective black of Mercedes’ desks.

He even makes Lewis laugh, startled, when he asks him if he managed to get laid while Sebastian was gone.

“So,” Niki says, sitting down beside Lewis in his motorhome. Lewis hums, pulling out his earbuds. Sebastian is slumped on the floor, back against the opposite wall. They’re waiting to be called for the post practise debrief.

“So.”

The half grin, all teeth and eyes squishing up, that Lewis sends Niki reminds Sebastian of Formula Three. His fingers itch for a steering wheel.

“Are you going to introduce me to your soulmate anytime before I die?”

Lewis goes very still. Stupidly, damningly, his eyes dart to Sebastian before he looks back at Niki.

Niki raises his eyebrows. He, eerily, manages to look Sebastian directly in the eyes. Sebastian waves. Just in case.

Niki’s expression doesn’t change.

Sebastian’s exhale could be a laugh.

“Well?” Niki nudges. “I am not getting older, you know?”

“Jesus, Nik,” Lewis says, automatically, like it’s rote. “I’ve told you. Stop making those jokes.”

“You’re the one who calls me ‘old man’.”

“It’s a term of endearment!”

Niki stares at him down. For the first time in Sebastian’s life — and death — he watches as Lewis Hamilton gives in.

“I don’t need to introduce you. You already know him.”

“Knew him,” Sebastian corrects. Lewis ignores him.

Niki watches Lewis for a moment longer. Lewis, resolutely, refuses to look away.

“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian informs him.

“Hello, Sebastian,” Niki says, and for the second time in not even five minutes, Sebastian wonders if Niki can see him. He doesn’t bother waving this time but it is a little freaky.

“I hate you,” Lewis tells him, sulkily.

“Yes,” Niki says, patting him on the shoulder. “I know.”

“How did you know?”

Sebastian isn’t sure if Lewis is asking how Niki knew that Lewis had a dead soulmate or how he knew that dead soulmate was Sebastian.

“Hmm, last year, you were weird. Weirder after Sebastian. Not how Nigel was, with Elio, or Michael, with Aryton.” Niki doesn’t take his eyes off of Lewis. His voice and face is softer than Sebastian has ever heard or seen. “Just. Weird. And still too, after Nico left.”

Lewis swallows thickly. “Right.”

“Some of me hoped.” Niki stops. He looks over at where Lewis looked earlier, when he is steadily refusing to look now. “When James died, I looked out for him.”

He shrugs. There is something hanging heavy in his face. “We knew each other too well in life, maybe. Or that was all the time we were given. More than most.”

“Yeah.”

Lewis meets Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian looks back at him.

“And,” Niki says. He reaches a hand behind them and raps on the wall. “These are a bit thin too. I heard you talking to someone, once or twice.”

“Fuck off,” Lewis laughs. He scrubs an open palm down his face.

Niki reaches over to pat his cheek firmly. “You are sleeping better, this is good. Keep it up.”

“Aye, cap’n,” Lewis says dryly.

5.

Jenson: you cheatying slag

Jenson: i knoiw 4 a FACT that you dont know all the wdcs off by heart

Jenson: usinh seb as your own fuckinh wiki is wrong

Jenson: always knew you were a cheater aty your core. fernando warned me about you LOL

Jenson: also. tell seb hes a nerd

[anonymooseforever007]

The Proposal

(Technically Pre!Luca Changretta x female Shelby reader)

Summery: Despite the assumption of many others Thomas Shelby didn't like unnecessary bloodshed and neither did Luca Changretta. So before a full out gang war could begin, they came up with a plan to make peace between the families.....And obviously the best plan they could come up with was an arranged marriage. And even more obviously not everyone one was pleased....namely the bride.

A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings other than usually Peaky Language and discussion of arranged marriage. Y/N is furious. Luca isn't in this one but he's technically the groom so....I wrote this purely to prequel another part I'm still writing! Also this is technically S4ish but it breaks away from cannon and is my idea of how a Shelby sister may react if Tommy tried to marry her off to prevent the vendetta! Enjoy❤️!

WC- 1.5k

Main Masterlist Part 2

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

You walked into the Shelby Company Limited, waving and exchanging happy greetings with those who offered them. Lizzie looked at you as you approached her desk. 

"Hi Lizzie! How have you been today? I absolutely love your dress today, the color is brilliant! You wouldn't happen to know if my brothers are in would you?"

Lizzie smiled, "Hello Y/N. Thanks, I got it at this new shop. I can give you the address of the store later if you'd like. I've been alright, your brothers are planning something though. Been in since this morning I've got no clue what it is though."

"Ohh that would be perfect! Thanks. It was, as always, nice seeing you," you nodded pleasantly to your friend as you started to move to the private office. "Oh and Lizzie? I'm sorry about the noise,"

"Wha..."

"THOMAS MICHAEL SHELBY!!! I WILL STRIP YOUR FUCKING BALLS AND USE THEM AS SKIPPING STONES!!"

The entire betting shop went deathly silent as the you stormed in, heading straight into your brother's office. Slamming the door behind, you ignored everyone else in the room and went directly for your target, grabbing him by his collar to bring his face closer to your attacking fist. 

Unfortunately you, and luckily for him, Arthur and John had just barely managed to grab you by the waist and drag you back a few steps before your fist could make contact. Unluckily for them, you turned your wrath another way, practically jumping in the air to land a foot of yours on each of theirs, before dragging them both forward so their heads collided with a hard thud. Both men groaned while you made another break for your older brother. This time he was expecting it and grabbed you in a hold that would be harder to escape. Your hands were trapped between your two bodies and Tommy had one arm around your back, preventing you from pulling back. He'd even managed to wrap one on his legs tightly around the back of yours to prevent any attacks aimed in "softer areas". If someone hadn't heard your words previously, it may have even looked like he was hugging you. And not just that, but hugging the way Charlie liked to do whenever you saw him, wrapped as tightly around you as possibly, keeping you from moving away. And while you absolutely adored such cuddles with your young nephew, this was most certainly not like those times. 

The entire company seemed to be frozen in silence waiting for what would happen next. Those outside the office listened for the sounds of more yelling of even the possible shot of a gun. And those in the office looked on at the brother and sister locked tensely together, seeming to have a ferocious conversation without a single word. The furious glare you were giving Tommy would make any man question himself, but your brother only met your glare with an equally strong stare of his own. 

Then with an annoyed sigh you finally relaxed in your brother's arms. You looked at your captor with a raised eyebrow signalling to him that this is the part where he lets you go. Tightening his grip slightly, Tommy raised an eyebrow of his own. 

"Are you done?"

".....Yes."

"Really?"

".....Yes."

"You're not gonna shout anymore?"

"....Yes."

"You won't punch me?"

".....Yes."

"You gonna apologize to John and Arthur?"

"No."

"Alright," he concluded, finally relaxing enough to let you step back from his grip. 

...

...

You lied...

It was mere seconds later when Tommy's head was turned to the side with an echoing smack. His glasses cracked when they hit the other side of the room. You started to bat your hands at any brother trying to approach you.

"How fucking dare you!!! FIRST of all: sending Finn, FUCKING FINN, OUR BABY BROTHER, MY FINN to tell me because you don't have the balls to do it yourself! I was so worried when he came looking like he was going to throw up, you fucking bastards!! I thought he was hurt or someone died because he was so FUCKING anxious. But NO! He thought that I was going to STOP LOVING HIM because he was the one who had to tell me about your little WEDDING PLAN! DING DONG RING THE FUCKING WEDDING BELLS," you spat venomously, thinking of the absolutely miserable look on your youngest brother's face as he came to see you only an hour ago. Apparently, your other brothers thought if he was the only to break the news of your impending engagement you'd take it willingly, maybe even happily if it came from your favorite sibling. And to be fair, from him you had. You knew it wasn't his idea and given the fact he honesty looked like he was going to cry possibly, thinking you'd hate him forever because of his message. Like it was him who signed your death warrant. No, for Finn and only him you'd taken the news calmly, telling him it was alright and you'd didn't hate him. Reassuring him once again you loved him, and that he could come to you for anything at all anytime and that you also wanted him home by midnight; you'd left him with a tight hug, quick kiss on the side of his head, and some money to take the sweet girl he'd been talking with to the movies....

Then you set out for your older brothers....

Now here you were, giving them your real opinions which they hoped Finn would soften the brute of.

"AND on that note! Who THE FUCK are you? THINKING YOU THINK YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING RIGHT TO MARRY ME OFF FOR YOUR LITTLE PISSING PARTY," your volume increasing as you raged, while dodging around your brothers to climb on Tommy's' desk so you could yell at them without being cut off as easily. "JUST BECAUSE YOUR LITTLE BIRD BRAINS ONLY UNDERSTANDS PLANS INVOLVING FIGHTING AND FUCKING DOESN'T MEAN THEY'RE WHAT YOU SHOULD USE!!," John yelped as you stomped on his hand trying to grab your ankle to pull you off the desk. "I!! I WILL NOT BE USED IN ONE OF YOUR SHITTY LITTLE SCHEMES TO MAKE PEACE BECAUSE YOU MEN FUCKED SOMETHING UP AGAIN!! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME! I AM NOT SOME BARGAINING CHIP TO BE BET IN YOUR GAMBLING GAME," you kicked Tommy's stapler backwards towards Arthur's head as he tried to grab you from behind. "I WILL WORK WHERE I WANT. I WILL LIVE WHERE I WANT. MEET WHO I WANT. FIGHT WHO I WANT. AND FUCK WHO I WANT!! DO YOU YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!"

Again the room was silent as you and Tommy stared at each other. You from on top of his desk holding his empty whiskey glass, ready to throw, and him right in front, a bright red handprint blooming in his pale skin. Tommy opened his mouth to speak and you opened yours, still angry and ready to refute whatever he said. But then Tommy raised his arms in peace and took a few steps back slowly, keeping his eyes on yours in a show of surrender. 

"Alright. Alright Y/N we've heard what you have to say..."

"Don't fucking patronize me Tommy. I'm not a fucking horse you can calm or sell on a whim," you refuted, sighing as the fight finally left you. You were still furious yes, but you were tired of yelling. It wasn't something you did often and even now you were really only doing it to keep yourself from hitting your brother again. He couldn't listen to you if he was unconscious. Still moving forward with his arms slightly raised Tommy tried again.

"Alright," Tommy repeated raising one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose like he did when he was stressed. Sure he expected you to be mad, you had even been pissed when he arranged John's marriage with Esme, and you adored the women as much if not more than John himself did. He knew your feelings on marrying for Love and not business and to be fair he didn't disagree. And even if it made him slightly sick to think of having to do this, a pact bound with marriage was the only was Luca would agree to reconsider the black hands.

'A bond thorough blood bound or blood spilled' those were his words.

"I get you're angry Y/N. And I'm sorry it had to be this way," Tommy spoke firmly but vaguely, and there was almost a slight pleading there, ask if he was asking you to let it go just this once. As if he was asking you to grab his jacket instead of tie yourself to a man you'd never met. "But you don't understand the situation we're in." Tommy moved to grab one of the papers you'd knocked off the desk in your ranting. He reached up to hand it to and you grabbed it before staring at it for a moment processing what was before you. And for some reason you couldn't explain but that paper was all it took for your anger to return full force. Who at kind of death threat even was this?

"YOU EXPECT ME TO GET MARRIED TO A STRANGER BECAUSE OF A FUCKING FINGER PAINTING?!"

....

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

Part 2

Main Masterlist

[effervescentdragon]

Not one of the prompts you reblogged but one I’ve had in my notes for months that I think you could do something amazing and awful with!

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, remember that.” - whatever pairing sparks joy angst.

i love you. how about,, uh, all of them?

1994

"Ayrton, I don't know what you want from me," he says, head in his hand, the one that isn't holding the receiver. "I'm not coming back, I'm not your punching back, there is nothing -"

Ayrton interrupts him. He's never learned not to take what he wants. He's never learned not to stomp over everything he feels may be in the way.

'Do you think you can be happy, not racing me? I don't think you can.' He laughs, and Alain despises that laugh. It's derisive and it grates on his ears through the phone. He should hang up. 'I can't be happy racing without you. You can't be happy without me either, Alain, I am right about this.'

He says it like a declaration; there is no question to be found anywhere. Ayrton doesn't ask. He states, and he takes, and Alain shouldn't pick up the phone anymore.

"There will never be a happy ending for us, Ayrton." He presses the palm of his hand into his eye until he sees stars. "We made sure of it."

Ayrton says nothing. Alain tries to breathe.

Neither of them hang up for a long, long time after.

2001

"I won't stay," Mika says.

Michael scoffs. "I don't want you to stay."

There is nothing to do after such a blatant, shitty, petulant lie except to laugh. So Mika laughs and doesn't let himself hear the anger underneath it.

"You're full of shit, Michael," he says.

"And you're a coward who's leaving, Mika," Michael replies, his smile as sharp as a knife. "Can't take serious competition?"

Mika could say so many things then. He could say I hate you and Fuck you, you bastard and You were never competition to me and I don't care about this anymore and You were never important to me.

He's too tired to lie. His body hurts, and his head is pounding, and his heart... his heart is doing something too. Something he doesn't want to think about too much.

"This isn't a movie, Michael," he says in the end. "There is no 'happily ever after' in racing." He chuckles, rubs his fist over his sternum. "We either lose or die in the end." Sometimes both, he doesn't say. There's no need. He sees in Michael's face that he knows.

"Well," he says with that big, boyish smile Mika has loved since he first saw it a decade ago, and which he still loves as much as he loves being in the car on track, "I am going to live forever."

Mika shakes his head. "You will." He smiles; not a lie. "Of course you will."

Michael grins, and pushes at Mika's knee with his own, and they stay silent. There's no need to speak anymore.

There was rarely need for them to speak anyway. Some things, they just understood.

2016

Nico pushes Lewis away. "Just - fucking move," he says, because he feels like he could either kiss Lewis or break his fucking nose if he stays too close. "I decided, and it's over, Lewis, it's done." He swallows. "I'm done."

Lewis is furious. He's not even trying to hide it and that pissess Nico off majorly. He's been hiding his fucking heartbreak for ages. He's been smiling for the cameras and holding his hands in his pockets or in his lap so nobody wohld see them shake, and he's been meditating on what he would say so he doesn't come.off too broken and too tired and too defeated - and he won, he fucking won - and Lewis can't even do him the courtesy of pretending for a little bit? He can't even allow Nico the common cordiality after - after everything; no, of course not. He has to come in here with all his usually tightly hidden emotions on display and put them all on Nico, throw them all into Nico's face, like a reprimand, like a punishment. You won, now deal with this.

Fuck you, Lewis, he thinks, and says "Did you think I was going to stay?" He scoffs. "Did you think I'll come back to have you try and take away this from me through another year like this one has been?"

He watches Lewis' eyes widen in guilt. I know you, Nico thinks viciously. I know you better than anyone. Fuck you. Fuck you for fucking all of this up for me and for both of us.

"There will be no happy ending, victorious narrative where you 'regain your crown' or whatever the fuck next year." He smiles, and Lewis' nosteils flare. "You lose."

Lewis says nothing for a moment. When he laughs, it's the most awful sound Nico has ever heard in his life; metal scraping into a wall and head hitting concrete and suffocation of a too-tight cockpit when you can't get out because your belt is stuck, all together screaming in cacophony.

"You lose too," he says finally. "You lose. Coward."

Nico tries to smile but everything is too distorted and he doesn't know if he manages. "Yes, but I lose by default, and not to you. And you won't win against me."

Lewis breathes in sharply. Nico watches him tap his fingers on his thigh. One, two, three, he counts, like he knows Lewis does in his head, a long-ago learned technique that they both use.

"Fuck you, Nico," Lewis grits through his teeth, and when he moves, Nico is there to meet him halfway and shut him up with a kiss.

[ewesless]

FURIOUS at the Misogynists and Lesbophobes in OM Fandom

A few recent confessions about Thirteen made me MATI so this is my rant.

Thirteen still does traps on MC, she is still a prankster and inventor, but she gets sidelined hella hard and is usually limited to one or two cameos with MC or a brief interaction with other characters. She's never going to be antagonistic to MC.

Girl is not their priority despite being a love interest. She gets shoved in the background or not sexualized even when male characters get a ton of stupid fanservice. I can only assume the artists and writers are walking on eggshells with her because of lesbophobes and misogynists or shallowly appealing to the "We're different! We don't sexualize women 😁"

She has feelings for MC the fastest because they get along and she's attracted to them. Their chemistry is explored quickly in Chats in OM, but I doubt most of you will reach those because of how late in the series the newbies appeared.

She asks them on dates and shows up "by coincidence" A LOT because she likes them and wants to spend time with ONLY THEM frequently. In events she only shows up for MC (or texts them) and then gets shoved out of the story entirely because OhHhHh she's sooooooo antisocial~ Despite initially being reluctant to game with MC, the bros and Mephisto she really enjoyed it and their company!

Thirteen likes MC's bedroom whereas Mephisto was unimpressed with MC's room and insulted it.

She didn't go googoo gaga for no reason about MC, MC's soul is beautiful and attracted her. She wants to have it "when you're done with it" instead of reaping it. How in the hell does that imply she doesn't want to let them go? JUST LIKE THE BROS AND SIDES.

ANOTHER THING. Thirteen doesn't like people dropping in at her house and doesn't invite them either. She invites MC in chats to see her and I wish that MC would visit her more.

THIRTEEN WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE SIDES AFFECTED BY MISSING MC. She loves them and misses them as well as let them close to her when already stated she's anti-social and aloof. She has a broken heart button on her RAD uniform that she sewed on herself along with the other heart buttons. It makes me wonder about her past and that she's opened herself up to MC and love even though her heart was/is broken.

And if MC isn't into things like cosmetics, shopping and other "girly" interests it's possibly to reject her/hanging out. She likes to treat them to coffee, desserts and shopping trips whereas multiple other characters use that as bribes or rewards or leeching off MC's wallet.

Mephistopheles has a low opinion of MC and Raphael is indifferent to them. Suddenly getting feelings in events makes no fucking sense.

Mephistopheles opens up to MC in the main story and contacted them to brag about his brother, but in his birthday call on year 2 he is suddenly into them and wants to get to know them???

Raphael isn't even friendly with MC in the story, the Raphael we met has been Michael in two out of three instances. He suddenly starts talking about "feeling something for MC" when he went up against Barbatos who was the hardest won Love Interest in the game.

Fuck off, seriously fuck off with the homophobia/misogyny. She is our love interest not yours and not a rival or antagonist.

Shipping Thirteen with any of the scrotes ROYALLY pisses me off because I HATE straight couples and M/F. I kept that to myself, for the most part, but if some of you are hating on shippers for shipping gay couples and exclusively want your scrotes to yourselves Thirteen fans can too. Stop shipping the one female option off in male relationships when it's literally just to get her away from your man. Making up a male MC or a political lesbian MC is BULLSHIT and looking for attention and asspats for being inclusive.

Po/rn is an inherently misogynistic and objectifying exploitation of women's bodies and sexuality and should not EVER be used to make sexy art of women in my opinion. One of the pics I hate most is her jerking off two faceless/mob characters in a subjugated pose. That was backhanded, hateful and degrading.

[alexiavettel]

Ten things I hate about you

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: age gap, explicit language, allusions to sex, drinking, mentions to death, motorsport accident, angst sometimes, rbr mentions (ew), Horner mentions (he’s not the bad here), no use of Y/n, Daniel Ricciardo is a walking cliché (it’s actually cute for me) and Michael and Scottie are actually babies. 

summary: The ten reasons why you hate Daniel Ricciardo through the years. But remember, the line between hate and love is thin, be careful…

I hate the way you talk to me,

“What are you doing here kid? This is an adult RedBull party, you shouldn’t be here”

“Shut up Ricciardo, I deserve to be here as much as you”

“For being the boss daughter? Wow how deserving!” 

“And what are you doing here? I thought you jumped off last year”

“Y’know gal once you go Danny Ric you never want to go back, your daddy likes me so here I am”

“Dear god, I thought that after you were a coward and moved to Renault I would never have see you again out of the paddock” 

“You don’t what you’re talking about, girl” the older man towers over you in the corner of the saloon.

“So unbothered until someone call you coward, right? You’re childish Ricciardo, that’s what you are”

She hates when he calls her kid. 

and the way you cut your hair.

“Oh my god what have you done, cowboy?” 

“Liked the new cut, golden girl?”

“Wow stopped calling me kid, it’s a significant development Ricciardo”

“Want me to come back calling you kid? ‘Cause I don’t mind”

“Shut up, and to be honest no. I don’t like it, the new cut just shows your age better you’re almost going bald man be careful” you said laughing.

“What wait really?”

“Your hairline looks like circuit corners, to be honest. But hear my wise words big boy, let it grow more than you’re used to. Curls look good on you”

Daniel always have his curls looking good now. 

I hate the way you drive my car.

“C’mon girl, you drunk too much” 

“OH DANIEL! What are you doing here, handsome?!” you might had a little too much long island iced teas

“M’gonna take you home, come on” he took your both hands and led you to the exit

“What about my car? She’s my precious daughter I can’t leave Daisy alone!”

“You named your car? You scare me sometimes little girl… You’re lucky I took an Uber, ‘gimme the keys” 

“Don’t talk about Daisy like that!” you drunkenly shouted in the parking lot

“You’re joking you drive a manual! You have a fucking Supra what are you? Brian O’Conner?” he put you in the passenger seat and belt you on.

“Not like you’re not a fucking formula one driver, huh? Lucky me! And don’t talk about Daisy like t-that she’s purple not orange like in fast and furious” He just rolled his eyes and started driving.

“Didn’t know you could drive, even more a manual”

“You say that because you never saw me drifting”

They spend the next night drifting in an empty parking lot. 

I hate it when you stare.

“What are you looking at mate?” Nico asked the younger man

“N-Nothing” he stopped staring at you across the paddock

“Hmm ‘nothing’ right? The ‘nothing’ you mentioned is that one covered in Red Bull merch staring back smiling right now?” Daniel immediately looked back searching for your smile but just found you laughing at one of Albon’s jokes.

She felt his eyes burning into her, she always did. 

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

“Ouch! Daniel!” You shouted after he stepped on your foot in the middle of a dinner at your dad’s house with some friends, former drivers. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean it” he gently caressed your hair with an apologising smile 

“Okay but why the fuck are you wearing combat boots? It’s a dinner Dan, I thought you had a better sense of style”

“Sorry darling it’s not about the boots, it’s my big feet and y’know what they say-“

“Shut up, Ricciardo”

He gifted her a pair of combat boots on her birthday. She wears it at every opportunity. 

and the way you read my mind.

“Stop. Stop thinking too much” he caressed your cheek 

“But I am not-“

“Yes you are, I can almost hear your thoughts and I know they are plenty. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, if you want to stop and pretend I never kissed you we can do it…”

“No-"

He kissed her goodbye that night, and did it almost all the others nights too. 

I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.

“I have something for you… I asked Michael to put it in your driver's room” you quietly whispered while passing through him in the McLaren hospitality 

“Late valentines' gift, darling?” he said laughing.

“Maybe…”

You were scared of being a little too fast, but it was inevitable. You hate the things he makes you feel.

When the man found the sunflowers in his bed he was beyond surprised. But the two letters between the yellow fresh plants made a glint appear in his eyes. The first one had “about you and me” written down in the envelope. 

“I have sat upon the seashore

and washed away my fears.

I have lived so many days now

that they are turning into years.

I have walked up in mountains.

I have splashed around in streams.

I have conjured up ideas

that have moulded into dreams.

I have seen a thousand faces

And I've matched a thousand smiles.

I have been to so many places

that I'm losing count of miles.

I have heard the wind, so gently,

cause the trees to creak and moan,

but I have never felt a heart

as perfect as your own”

And the second one had “about your eyes” written down in brown tint. 

“You hated your eye colour,

called it a dull and dirty brown

Wished for the deep blue of an ocean,

where admirers hearts would drown

And it pained me when I realised,

you'd never see it like I do

The way your eyes hint a story,

that I want to read right through

They hold specks of stolen sunlight,

that you'd miss with just one glance

And a depth of raw emotion,

that can freeze you in a trance

They're a fix of melted chocolate,

when I'm craving something sweet

But hold a gaze that's so unwatering,

that I find it hard to meet

I fall right down the rabbit hole,

when I look into your eyes

The brown of earth's unfettered beauty,

that I yearn to memorise

When I was tired of not belonging,

they made me feel like I'd been found

And I hope you never say again,

That your eyes are simply brown.”

He even posts pics of his eyes now.

I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right.

“You need to stop running away! You want to end this or not? You want to keep hiding us from your dad like an afraid little kid? I do EVERYTHING to be with you but in the moment it gets a ‘little too real’ you run! That’s what you always do!” Daniel never screamed at you but today has been an exception.

“You don’t understand, Daniel! It’s not just my dad, it’s a lot more complicated than that!-” you mourn sitting in the sofa

“What? Have you realised that I am ‘too old’ for you? That you are wasting your time with me? That the public and your family will criticise us?”

“You are not old for me, babe… But they will speak y’know? I hate the media speculating about me with every single driver, but what if that damages your future in another team? What if your fans start treating you differently alleging that you ‘groomed’ me since we have known each other since I was 18? What if-” you started walking towards him

“You are too much worried about me, darling. Think about yourself. Think about us, how happy we make each other. I know you’re scared, babe… But that is what would make me happier. We can wait how much you want but I’m scared too. I’m scared you’re going to leave me for someone better, you have so many options it just doesn't make sense why you chose me…” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek after

“I am never leaving you. I am just scared” his eyes gave you the comfort you were looking for, that you always searched

“But love is scary. Specially after we couldn't even tolerate each other and now we are, this” he pointed between you “I have fears and more fears with you, but our love is bigger than all of them. If you want to be with me, for real, you also have to learn to surpass your fear. We are a team, darlin’”

He was right. He always is.

I hate it when you lie.

“You are a fucking asshole, Daniel!” You shouted after closing his door.

“I am sorry-”

“No you don’t! You could’ve died, Daniel for god’s sake. You could’ve died and I would only know after receiving a hospital’s call. You lied to me, you promised ages ago that you would never… I don’t understand, like I really don’t.”

“Darling, listen-”

“Daniel, I can't hear your voice right now. It’s making me angrier and I don’t want to act irrationally”

“Can I just explain why I lied?”

“Now? No. Please go away, I really need to think. Alone.”

You don’t understand, he had a car accident during the testing for the 2021 season and said it was nothing much. You watched everything on tv and didn’t looked too bad, but you were worried either way. The g forces are too much sometimes, but he swore he was fine. Long story short, he was not. He literally disappeared for more than 24 hours and you were looking up plane tickets to Bahrain when Michael called you telling what happened.

When Daniel crashed a part of his helmet was broken, and his head hit the neck support. Obviously could’ve been worse, but the amount of blood that came out of him was scary. Michael send you some pics after you almost threatened him of death, he explained that Daniel had only a small opening in his neck. And he was conscious enough after the crash to get out of the car, message you and go walking to the medic station. But unfortunately one blood vessel has been hit in the process and he was having an internal haemorrhage.

The thing is, he was notified before the surgery and he answered your call saying that “I am completely fine darling, just gotta do some exams and gonna be back to sleep in the hotel in some hours. Don’t worry, I love you” the first time he really said those words, and could’ve been the last. 

She said I love you back. And took care of him until he was good to go back.

I hate it when you make me laugh, 

“Oh my fucking god, Daniel! My dad is going to kill us” you said laughing after being thrown in your father’s pool with Daniel. His Monza win meant more to you two than you had expected.

“He can kill me if he wants, but it was worthy. At least I’m going to die happy. I could die happy whenever I’m with you” he kissed you messily. 

“So cheesy, Dan ew. But if you really meant it, I hope it’s going to take a bit more to your death ‘cause I have no plans of ever leaving you”

“And I am the cheesy one-?”

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING HERE?” Oh that must be your dad… oops?

He always loved her laugh, even when they hated each other… The sound of her laugh always was the closest thing to heaven, for him.

even worse when you make me cry.

“1st task: word search, find your gift.”

No fucking way, Ricciardo. You say “I’m sad” in one day, and in the next you wake up with this note in the bed. The only possible answer in this messy word search was office. When you got to his office desk a box of chocolates was waiting for you, with another note, this time in the format of a heart.

“2nd task: i need to be fixed, what am i?”

Just could be the wardrobe door, that shit almost knocked you up one day. Just right, honey. You found a little cute poem with another note.

“I don't want a fairytale

ending with you.

I want to be there

to help you face

your fears and 

to help you overcome

your failures.

I want to give you

the kind of love

that's not distorted

and fabricated,

but real, raw

and honest.”

“3rd task: complete the sentence, w__r_  __  _ s_en_  m__e  __me  on  _ho_e?”

With an embarrassing amount of time, you discovered to be “where do I spend more time on phone?” and that must be the main bathroom. In the mirror lipstick were marking the words

“4th task: i am in your most peaceful place”

with a little flower in the end. There’s only one place.

When you opened the wooden door that separates the living room from the garage and garden you felt tears burning your eyes. Daniel were sitting in the garden with sunflowers, picnic basket, plenty of fruits, drinks and food in general. 

“Sorry about the lipstick I used an old one and I swear I’m gonna clean after and-”

“You’re the most cheesy, cliche and argh I don’t even know what to- I fucking hate loving you!” How could you get so lucky? This 5’10’’ aussie, who has the biggest smile, loudest laugh, the best hug ever and seems like his life mission is making you the happiest person alive.

“Darling, don’t cry please! I hate when you cry!” he walked over you

“You were the one that made me cry!” you laughed sniffing giving a kiss in his cheek

“Eh… I might actually have one more thing…”

“What? I don’t think you can surprise or make me cry even more-” you said cleaning away your tears.

“Surprise!” You were wrong. Definitely wrong. Inside the picnic basket instead of more food was a little dog puppy, which couldn’t even open his eyes properly in this light. They furr shined in the sunlight, nose slightly scrunched and tail faintly moving side to side.

She thought the first time she would cry for a man, that it’s not her dad, would be after a heartbreak not for a cliché surprise.

I hate it when you’re not around.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise after this work I’m gonna get on the first plane to you, and then we can enjoy my summer break together. I swear”

That was the third time he said it, the only time he promised tho. It’s hard to get that much time to spend with your boyfriend, and then he still works in his holidays.

He did what he promised but after 3 days. 3 whole days of his absence, it’s different when he’s in the paddock. At least you got a bit of him, the good morning and good night texts, facetime before sleeping and the most important thing of your life: your dog.

When he is not around, she feels like the loneliest person in the world.

and the fact you didn’t call.

It has been a while since that happened but you still remember how the feeling was. The feeling of being just a piece of meat, just drunk sex, a replacement, an embarrassment or worst, a regret.

Your first time with Daniel was after his win in Monaco, 2018. Both drunk not only in tequila and whiskey but in lust. To be honest you don’t remember much of this night, but you remember him. And he remembers you. His hands were imprinted on your curves. Your fingers tangled in his hair. When you woke up in an empty bed, in a hotel room that was not yours. You remembered all too well.

You remembered that he didn’t call. You remembered that he ignored you in the garage and the paddock. When you finally got to ask (you sneaked into his driver’s room) why he was running he admitted “I just can’t even think when you are around now! All I have is memories when I look at you, and that makes me fucking mad! It makes me wanna hate you more but also makes me wanna kiss you more and fuck you more and I can’t! We shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I assume the responsibility, I’m sorry”

That was the first and last time he didn’t call.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“So you hate loving me? Relax I hate loving you too” Daniel gave his characteristic laugh after you finished saying your poem at the end of your wedding vows.

•

“We are a team, in this life and all the others". That was the end of his vows, you could see he was shaking the entire time. You risk it looking at Michael and Scottie (obviously the best men) and they were crying like babies, pretty much more than you. 

“See why I hate loving you, Ricciardo” you mentioned cleaning your tears half laughing and you could hear the guests laughing with you. 

“You’re a Ricciardo now too, darlin’”

“You can kiss the bride now”

This was not the end. She still hates Daniel, everything about him, but especially, how much he was easy to love. He promised they were a team and he will always deliver on that, the love of this life of his and all the others too.

@laura-naruto-fan1998 enjoy <3

my taglist!!

[monzamash]

ooh boy, no36 w/Daniel?? 😳

36. “you sent me pictures of you naked while i was in a work meeting!” rating – mature (sexual references, mentions of nudity, coarse language) word count – 1.1k a/n – i went smut free on this one and made it a little less shouty because i can't imagine a world where danny ric would be angry about a cheeky nude. js xo masterlist

You were bored. Dying behind the eyes kind of bored. And it was raining in London, torrential so everything you would normally do to cure the boredom, like take your pups out for a walk or pop down to the café on the corner for a coffee were a no-go. To make matters worse, Daniel had sworn he’d be home by 2pm, promising to pick up food and your favourite flavour of ice cream too.

It was nearly 6 now and pitch dark outside, street lights bellowing into your lounge room. You hadn’t so much as heard a peep from him since he left you in bed this morning, begging for him to stay curled up under the warm sheets with you. The same frown on your face that you had when he kissed you goodbye, unintentionally leaving you high and dry because he was running late had reappeared. He was ghosting you.

Ignoring your wife is rude. You typed, fingertips hovering over the send button before a mischievous though intrusively broke through.

You were up like a shot, tossing the orange texas state t-shirt that you’d stolen from Daniel on the floor and posing in front of your bathroom mirror. The photos weren’t too scandalous, just a tasteful mix of come hither and this is what you’re missing out on with the beauty lighting smoothing out all the shadows. And if Daniel were so miserably caught up at work then maybe this would be a nice distraction, you thought as you pressed send, nervously awaiting a response.

Being needy wasn’t really you. In fact, the reason your marriage worked so well was because both of you were independent, happily travelling through life waiting for the other patiently. That was the type of love you had and cherished with every part of your being. But when Daniel was home, so close you could reach out and grab him, you wanted him with you every second of every day. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to waste a second of the time you had together, or if you let go for too long he’d disappear again. You weren’t sure what possessed you when you sent that message and those photos and Daniel definitely didn’t expect it when he opened your message and saw you, perky, needy and fully naked.

Fuck. He coughed and quickly closed his phone, hoping Michael hadn’t glanced over but knowing his audible gasp probably caught the attention of everyone in the room.

“Yo, was that…?”

“Was what?” Daniel snapped wide-eyed, shoving his phone into his pocket and staring his best mate down. The deer in headlights expression on Michael’s face confirmed to Daniel that he definitely knew better than to comment on whatever he just saw.

Michael shook his head and averted his eyes to the laptop in front of him, “Nothing, mate.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Daniel grumbled, maddened but internally thanking his lucky stars that it was Michael who saw the pictures and not one of the other ten dudes in the room. At least he knew that he wouldn’t mention it again, respecting you too much to pay it any mind and knowing if he did, Daniel would throttle him. A young lad from the engineering team probably wouldn't have been so generous with his discretion, especially when you looked like that.

The meeting finished up not long after your lewd text came through, Daniel’s mind officially turned to mush as he packed up and bided everyone goodbye. As furious as he was about you interrupting such an important meeting and getting caught, he couldn’t stop thinking about you sitting in your shared home, lounging around wearing nothing but a smile on your angelic face, desperate to be appreciated the way you deserved.

The front door clicking open caused you to sit up and immediately start nervously chewing on your thumb, anticipating. You were feeling uneasy because Daniel hadn’t messaged you back, giving you nothing to analyse while you waited for him to get home and deep down, you knew it was precarious sending a photo like that. But you were willing to risk it all for whatever his reaction was going to be. And boy, were you in for it.

“Where are you!?” Daniel yelled out, searching the kitchen first before appearing in the living room archway, tired eyes and an unreadable expression present his handsome face, “You.”

Hey. You blinked, small grin threatening to give you away but you managed to suppress it, waiting for any semblance of a reaction from the man standing in front of you. Anything more than the silence you were drowning in.

“You’re in trouble.”

“Why?” You asked, feigning innocence and causing Daniel to scoff loudly as he threw down his backpack – stern faced but soft spoken.

“Don’t fuck with me. You know exactly what I’m talkin' about.”

He was weirdly calm as he stepped forward, towering over you gazing up at him from the couch, “You sent me naked pictures while I was in a work meeting – a very important one, in fact. And on face value, loved ‘em. Love you. You’re hot – I know it, you know it but…”

You were smirking now at the compliment and Daniel couldn’t wait to wipe the smug look off your face, “Michael accidentally saw them���”

“What!” You shouted, gasping and covering your mouth with your hand. Mortified.

“Tits and all, honey. That’s what you get for trying to distract me from my work.”

"Nooooooo! No, no no!" You wailed.

You shrivelled up into a fetal position on the couch, wishing the ground would just swallow you whole and take you away from the humiliation, “What did he say?”

“Well, he was shocked to see my wife, his friend, naked on my phone. Like I said, you’re so unbelievably hot but you’ve gotta give a guy some warning before dropping nudes on him. Just a little like, ‘warning may contain titties’ or something – anything”

Daniel’s voice was slightly strained, and faintly humoured as he started to peel you out of your shame, little by little. You chuckled into his chest as he pulled you up into in his strong embrace, kissing your neck and brushing his hands under the hem of your his shirt.

“I was so turned on that I forgot to pick up food and your ice cream.”

His confession was quiet and you hummed before snaking your arms over his slumped shoulders and carefully dragged yourself into his lap, “S’okay. I knew would be so I got sushi delivered after I sent you the message.”

Daniel tilted his head back against the couch and cocked an eyebrow, “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t ya?”

And of course you nodded, baiting him and hoping to be put in your place. Even he couldn't deny that you had him figured out, down to a tee – every whim had been accounted for as you made him groan with pleasure, pressing down on him, teasing.

“You started all of this so you’re gonna be the one who finishes it, yeah? So fuckin' cheeky.”

“You’re going to wish you left that meeting hours ago, baby.” “We’ll see about that,” Daniel winked. Eyes wide, desperate to see it all.

+ + + let me know what you think!

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Michael died so The Bear could exist

I don't know the date of this sheet but The Beef was broke, it was operating at a loss and that's important because that means Michael lied to Richie.

The Bear | System | 01x01

They hadn't been having money problems for 2 weeks, like Richie said in S1, it was way longer than that, obviously. And not only that, Mikey hadn't told Richie where he kept the 300K either.

Why all those secrets with his BFF who was like a brother to him, his ride or die?

Mikey didn't even leave a note for him either, the only note he left was for Carmy. He left the restaurant to Carmy, the instructions for him to find the money, and left Richie completely out of it.

WHY?

Because he knew that if Richie had access to that money he wasn't going to change a thing, he wasn't going to turn things around, he was gonna keep the status quo and probably go out of business shortly after his death. And also to protect him, he didn't want Richie to know how fucked up they were financially, he had a daughter to provide for, so it was a way to protect him in a sense. Ignorance is bliss.

He bet all on The Bear, because The Beef was a hopeless case and Richie was not gonna let go of The Beef. Michael knew Richie well.

Also because:

Michael Berzatto is immortal.

Michael died so The Bear could exist.

How does all that affect Sydcarmy now?

Back in S1, when she was cocky and furious and telling Richie to learn to use the tablet while she, herself, let the preorder option open, Sydney got it wrong, though. She thought it was just a business:

Now, in S3, she realized it's not about that at all:

So Michael was right:

It's about the people and the special moments of your life because the special moments of your life mean nothing if you have no special people to share them with.

The Bear brings people together

These people:

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[frompearl]

Mrs. Afton’s Daily Life: THREE

Warnings: Mentions of Child Abuse, William being a bit fucked up ngl, Unedited :')

A/N: Enjoy!

BEEP!! 

HONK!!!

“Watch where you’re going!!” A furious William yells to an elderly driver who almost crashed into him.

The older lady in question only flips him off to which he returns the gesture.

“Crazy old hag, you’re lucky I don’t want to do jail time.” He grumbles to himself, taking out a cigarette to place between his lips. 

It was his lunch break and usually around this time, he would pick up Michael from school. 

But today would be different for he would be picking up both Evan and Michael. 

A smile paints his lips, his baby boy Evan was growing up so fast. It felt like yesterday when he was just barely learning how to walk and now the little boy was going to school. 

He didn’t know whether to feel proud or anxious. Evan was small for his age. Knowing how little brats his age act, they’d probably pick on him. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. 

Unlike Y/N who wouldn’t dare hurt a child no matter how furious she was with the kids who would beat up Michael, William had no issue with harming the nearest brat who threatened his children. 

Sure William had some violent tendencies growing up, but did he grow out of them? Pfft no.

Similar to his son who was starting to get involved in fights, William had been a violent child growing up.

From witnessing both his parents get into violent fights and being on the receptive end of that abuse, William grew up with pent up anger that was quick to flare up. As a small child he would let out that anger onto innocent rodents he would find crawling in his walls at night. His soulless black eyes would observe as his small thin hands strangled the life out of the innocent mice he got his hands on. If his mother caught him again in the act, she would beat him, her own black eyes tearing up.

“Why can’t you be normal?” 

He found that he hated his own eyes when they reminded him of his parents. 

Both held the same blank look that was quick to convert into rage at the drop of a hat. 

His home was a suffocating place that was filled with the threats of violence and anger. His mother was constantly angry with his father for “not providing the lifestyle she deserved.” While his father would argue back that it was her fault for “failing as a woman by being a useless wife.” Then their anger would shift onto him and they’d berate him for ruining their lives. 

Both his parents were high school sweethearts from the countryside of England. 

They’d both come from abusive families that made them both bond over their own personal struggles. 

His mother wanted stability and to be lavished in riches that his father couldn’t provide. 

While his father wanted her love and for her to give him the happy family he’d always wanted. She never wanted children but she’d kept quiet hoping that he’d eventually forget about wanting a child. 

Both teenagers thought that they’d be happy together so they decided to elope to the United States. 

They’d spent all their life savings on the move, their imagination of a perfect life in the States blinding them of the realistic problems. 

Problems quickly arose when they both realized how completely inadequate they were for each other. 

His mother’s resentment to his father grew with each passing day she worked minimum wage jobs, her wish to be taken care of slipping from her fingers.

And her father started to grow irritated with how often she refused to bear him a child. 

There would be times William wished she kept refusing him. For both his parents to be aware of how morally wrong it would be to bring an innocent baby to whatever fucked  arrangement his parents had going on.

But alas, fed up with his persistence for a baby, she caved in begrudgingly. She hoped that if she birthed a child, things would go as they planned. Maybe the baby would look cute?

Something she would remind William constantly that she regretted caving into her father’s wish for a child. 

She hated being pregnant and hated the changes it brought to her body. The birthing process had left her traumatized after many hours of pain and blood loss.

The first time she’d laid eyes on an infant William, she’d only sneered at him.

He wasn’t the blonde baby with the chubby cherub cheeks she wanted. Nine months of torture, sacrificing her body, and hours of agony. 

For this weak looking baby? He was underweight for his age and he remained silent when he took his first breath of air. No piercing wails or exciting emotion evoked from his mother. 

This baby looked dead. She didn’t want such an ugly looking baby.

Poor William had been barely born and his mother had already rejected him. 

His father tried to love him at first. He’d want to have the perfect family all his life. But when his mother was caught in an affair, was when the fights started. 

The earliest memory he recalled was being four years old and watching as his father beat the shit out of his mother. Her screaming cries  

as she begged him to stop were overshadowed by the furious yells of his father. The man had come home from work to see his wife in a lovers embrace with another man. 

William was only watching from the box television when he saw a half naked man run out of the room followed by his father carrying a shotgun. His father had dropped the shotgun in the living room before storming back to his bedroom. There he’d drag his wife by her long black hair as she kicked and screamed. 

When he’d beat her till she was black and blue, he’d gotten up and stood over her body.

He sobbed about why she brought the worst out of him and that she hoped she learned her lesson for being an ungrateful wife.

When he’d turn around to go clean himself of his wife’s blood on his fist, he failed to realize that his shotgun was near his wife’s hands.

Big black eyes that belonged to an innocent William watched as his mother started to shoot at his father. Said man taking cover behind the kitchen counters, screaming about how crazy she was.

The man cried out as he felt a spare bullet nick his leg. Once his mother realized what she did, she started to cry hysterically claiming that she didn’t mean to harm him, only to scare him as a lesson.

They both then screamed at each other until the police had shown up after a neighbor made a complaint. 

His mother plastered on a fake smile and assured them everything was fine. That the bruises on her face were a result of the pet cat playing rowdy again. While she convinced the concerned officers that everything was ok, William’s father cleaned out his wound and any blood that stained the creaky wooden floors.

And William watched it all happen. 

That was his home life. A never ending dance that his parents refused to end no matter how miserable they made each other. 

Not even in school could he be safe because he was bullied for being smaller than the other children. His British accent was also picked on, kids mocking the way he talked because he spoke differently. Everyone and their mothers also knew about his abusive parents, so it was easy to label him as the “weird British kid with issues at home.”

He’d only feel happiness when he’d visit the traveling circus. 

The famous attraction he’d love to see was the dancing bear that was the main attraction. 

There was where his love for entertainment began. He’d remember how the dancing bear would distract him from his miserable home life and he became allured at the idea of bringing that entertainment to those who were like him. Miserable with their day to day lives and in need of a distraction. 

As he grew with those dreams in his head, so did he grow too. The small little boy that he once was grew bigger until he towered over his parents. They’d stopped beating him once they realized he could retaliate against them. 

The bullies at his school that would pick on him cowered at the sight of him. He had cracked the skull of one of them, threatening to go after all of them if they let word get out he did the crime. The kids he grew up with that would bully him now did anything to avoid him. 

If someone said, acted, or even looked at him the wrong way William would beat them mercilessly. Threatening much worse if they were to tell anyone. 

People avoided him at all cost once he revealed his violent tendencies. 

Word got around that the once meek boy became a danger to those who he didn’t like. It was advised for anyone who met him to treat him with caution. 

Something that his parents started to do as they realized how much of a threat he could be to them. 

When he turned eighteen, his parents had kicked him out of the house. Fearing that he would seek revenge against them for abusing him as a child.  

That was when William sought out to build his own replication of the bear he saw many years ago. 

He got into engineering through a mentorship at a car deal. The sleepiness nights learning about mechanics at the school library paid off greatly. 

He absolutely hated working there but knowing it kept him fed and housed in a dingy studio, made him bite his tongue whenever the owner would belittle him. 

Double Majoring in business and engineering, he met his future work partner Henry Emily in a class.

The two were very close at the start of their friendship, they’re work together made them an unstoppable force that would soon create the Freddy Fazbear Franchise. It was a shame they grew apart as the success of Freddy’s skyrocketed. 

While attending college, both young men started to pour all their ideas into making the place of their dreams.

Through gathering enough funds, they were able to create the first two animatronics, Fredbear and Spring Bonnie. FredBear was inspired by the dancing bear at the circus. And Springbonnie was William’s own personal creation. He affectionately dubs Spring Bonnie as his first child much to your annoyance. 

Impressed at the mechanics and advanced technical abilities of the two robots, they were able to convince investors that “FredBear’s Diner” would be a massive hit with all the children of the United States.

And it was.

The first two days, their small diner was filled with many customers. Children crowded around the stage as they watched the two robots sing and interact with the guests. 

Sure the food served wasn’t the best, but he really came for the food anyway? Not when both young men had created something so…revolutionary.

Then the Diner and expanding the Freddy Franchise became a priority in both men’s lives. It was a golden opportunity that they’d be fools to ignore. With that they both dropped out of college and William finally quit his dreadful job at the car dealership. Flipping off his former mentor as he walked out the door. 

There was when both men started to make the Freddy Franchise grow.

Kid restaurants like McDonalds, Burger King, and Chuck E Cheese (he hated all of three of them, especially the last one. Cheap knockoff) were sweating as most of their child customers were swayed by the restaurants made by both William and Henry. Then merchandise and many other products made from them live in the arcades, hell! Freddy’s even had its own cartoon! Money was flowing in and both William and Henry would be recognized as the youngest entrepreneurs to succeed in the country. 

Then William had started his own company, “Afton Robotics.” That quickly became a success as well. 

The life that both his mother and father wanted in America had been achieved by the son they had thought was insignificant. 

He showed them he proved them wrong. 

They both would pester him for money, still in the low economic class. Despite both being divorced, they still were miserable and insufferable people. His mother married the man she cheated with on his father. It wasn’t surprising to learn that she also had issues with him. Like in her previous marriage, she cheated on the poor lad as well. 

His father had turned to drinking to cope with the divorce and spent anything he earned on alcohol. 

Thankfully, none of them had any more children with each other or with other people. 

Thank God.

If they did, William had no qualms of fighting for full custody of any sibling born of those vile people. No little kid deserved to experience what he went through as a child. 

The violence he’d seen growing up 

So when he recalls his family life as a child. 

Never would he lay a hand on any of his precious family, he’d rather die than hurt any of the people he loved most in the world. Even Michael would never experience his violent wrath for he made an oath to himself to never harm his children as his parents did him. 

But anyone besides them? They held no sympathy from the large man.

In his head, everyone and anyone was a threat to his family. 

He’d raised a business from the ground as a college dropout, he’d seen how cruel the world could be.

He’d be damned if anyone hurt them on his watch.