#from the spicy noodles i ate

[autisticfoxgirl333]

Spicy Ramen

Cinderace: *eating some ramen with carrots*

*Bittergiggle pops up and walks fastly to Cinderace*

Bittergiggle: Hey, Watcha eatin'?

Cinderace: Oh, I'm just eatin' some ramen with carrots.

Bittergiggle: Oooooh! Can I have some? Finding a good joke SURE worked me up an appetite!

Cinderace: *lifts up fork full of ramen* Mmmmm, I don't know, it's REALLY spicy. You sure you want some?

Bittergiggle: *laughs* Oh, please! It can't be THAT spicy! I can handle it!

Cinderace: Ok. Don't say I didn't warn you. *gives him the ramen*

Bittergiggle: Thanks! *lifts up fork with ramen* Mmmmm.....*eats the ramen and chews it* Mmmmm! *opens eyes, looking shocked for a second while still smiling, food in mouth, then face starts turning red as he starts shaking hard* Mmmmmmmm......*screams loudly, mouth on fire* SPICY!!

*Later*

*Bittergiggle is shown drinking lots of milk and water while Cinderace is still enjoying its ramen*

Bittergiggle:*pants, face still red and eyes watering* *in pain* So spicyyyyyyyyy! *falls down on back*

Cinderace: *laughs a little* I warned you! *continues eating its ramen*

[sharkieboi]

oh thank god finally found a safe food that isn’t applesauce

[zephyrchama]

(A bit of OM! Mammon comforting MC. TW: Lots of crying? Depressive episode? No specific cause is mentioned, the reader is free to use their own scenario, but anyone who is uncomfortable with scenes of crying and being really upset might not like this one.)

The loud rustling of a plastic bag falling to the floor, its contents shifting noisily as they dropped, drew your attention. Mammon stood there dumbfounded.

He knew you were probably upset that he ate your ramen. He expected some harsh words, maybe a light berating and a slap on the wrist. That’s why he preemptively went and bought replacements. The spicy kind that he liked, some fancy new steak flavor that seemed cool, and a bunch of the tried and true classics. That way you’d have nothing to complain about.

He expected a cold shoulder. Playful teasing. A punishment, like having to eat one bowl with ten ultra spicy flavor packets. He never expected to find you curled up in tears. Eyes red and swollen. Your face looked pale with visible streaks trailing from your eyes and nose. Your expression remained a quivering frown when you weakly looked up, and it didn’t change as you buried it back into your knees.

How long had you been at this? he wondered. Was all this over a cheap pack of noodles?

Deep down somewhere, Mammon knew this wasn’t about the ramen. But he didn’t know what this was about, and it scared him.

You needed a tissue, or a glass of water, or a big hug. Mammon had no idea which to get first. He hadn’t even shrugged off his outdoor jacket yet. It slid down his shoulder as he scampered towards the kitchen for a glass, then stopped. He couldn’t leave you alone like this. His hands rooted around in his pockets which held only receipts and some loose change. No tissues or anything suitable for nose-blowing.

Up close, your shoulders shook. Your back heaved with every fresh sob. It tore his heart to little pieces. Your sleeves and the front of your top were soaking wet, no doubt from attempts to curb the crying. Mammon had a difficult time approaching you, unsure what to do or if he could even take being rejected when you obviously needed him.

Overthinking things was not his strong suit. Mammon didn't like the feeling of being stuck, of not having a plan. He was the kind of man with a goal in mind who always gets results. The goal right now was to see you smile, to eat some ramen and joke around. Most importantly, it was to get your mind off of whatever was currently happening. He wasn't going to change that by standing around like a fool.

"Hey." This wasn't his usual boisterous voice. It was a hushed tone filled with concern. You hardly acknowledged him, you had enough going on inside your head already and anything outside just felt like an afterthought. Mammon lowered himself next to you and fidgeted awkwardly with his jacket zipper. "What can I do?"

You weren't in a state to respond, that much was clear. Your answer was to shudder and hug your legs tight against your face.

Your knees were as soaked as your top. Seeing that was Mammon's last straw. He didn't want to be rough, but he was a man of action. He tried to coil an arm around your shaking shoulders, resolution only growing stronger when it caused you to cry harder.

"Knock that off, c'mere." Tough words never sounded gentler. You had no energy to move, but luckily, Mammon had plenty to spare as he brought you in to lean against his side and draped the edge of his jacket over you. You blindly cried against the first surface you could press your face against - his shirt. It smelled of deodorant.

"Don't forget, you're my responsibility, aight? When stuff like this happens, ya gotta come straight to me."

The silence wasn't as awful with Mammon around. It didn't feel suffocating. It took time, but the heartache began to fade. Your sobs became more infrequent. Mammon patiently waited the entire time, occasionally tugging you closer. Occasionally murmuring things like, "you're gonna have to use me as a tissue. I don't have any." Or, "just say the word, I'm gonna beat that sadness into a pulp. Gonna show it I'm the boss around here."

He may not be most eloquent of speakers, but he's got the right spirit.

Even after calming down, Mammon didn't budge and you remained locked against his side. Perhaps you still didn't have the strength to move yet, but you could manage to whisper out a grateful "thanks." A word that finally eased the pain tugging at Mammon's conscience.

He ruffled your hair and leaned down, placing his head against the top of yours. "I always tell ya, I'm the best. Call for me if this happens, ok?"

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Have you ever tried or heard of the "Buldak Spicy Noodles Challenge?" Its made in Korea and it has many different spice levels & flavors, ranging from 1920 SHU to 10,000 scoville units. What would it be like if the reader (Replacement Fighter) who enjoys eating it without breaking a sweat, introduced the noodles to the RoR characters & made them eat it? Who would be just fine & who would immediately tap out, grabbing a bucket of ice cream or milk? (You can add in other characters too)

Gods: Odin, Thor, Hades, Poseidon, Loki, Rudra, Shiva, Buddha & Apollo

Humans: Sasaki, Lubu, Tesla & Leo

I love Buldak! I’ve tried the normal spicy and I will admit that it is very spicy, but also refreshing in a sense and I love eating it. I will not be trying the death by spicy one, as I like my mouth not being burned away, lol.

-It started off with some curiosity, as they had seen you eating a thing of pot noodles, they were bright red and a specific scent seemed to hang in the air, something spicy.

-When you turned, still slurping up the noodles, seeing them looking at you with curiosity on their faces, you stood up and walked over to your pantry, “Sorry I forgot you guys were coming. Want some?”

-As you asked this, you opened your pantry, revealing more of the pot noodles, as in your whole pantry was stuffed with them. A few had to question how you were so healthy if you ate instant noodles all the time, but you ignored them, just starting the kettle again.

-Once the noodles were ready and everyone was sitting around the living room with you, you continued eating, after making yourself a second helping, to eat alongside everyone else.

-A few took a sniff of the noodles, Poseidon, Nikola, and Apollo, who all were instantly coughing, smelling the intense spice.

-A few had worried looks on their faces, sending panicked glances to each other before they all dug in.

-SPICY!!!! Immediately choking and rushing to the sink or trash can to spit it out, coughing from the intense spice, raiding your fridge for drinks, anything they could get their hands on, including just ice cubes. How could you eat that with a straight face!!

            -Poseidon, Apollo, Nikola, and Loki

-Okay this is really spicy, manages to get through the first bite, but not the second, as their face was quickly turning red, and quickly joined the others in the kitchen, demanding your ice tray to suck on some ice as well.

            Odin, Buddha, Hades, and Kojiro

-Isn’t going to be a bitch and wimp out, he is going to finish this challenge and prove that it’s not that spicy!! By the time he finishes, his face his bright red, his tongue is out as he can’t feel it and is pretty sure he’s burning from the inside out. Accepts your ice cream, after you finished yours, with panicked haste.

            -Leonidas, Lu Bu, and Thor

-This is really taste and is able to casually eat it like you. Yeah it’s spicy, but it’s doable- it’s quite refreshing actually. The others can only stare at you and them with horror on their faces, as you pulled out the three times as spicy one, asking if they wanted to try it. To everyone’s horror, the three of you eat that one no problem, but admit that this one is spicy. Ya’ll a bunch of freaks.

-Rudra and Shiva

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (03)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

****

Eight Years Ago; 2015

There was a small food cart on the outskirts of Incheon where two best friends frequent.

“Oi, shithead. You’ve been fucking staring at your food for twenty-two minutes already. What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

Jungkook whined, complaining about how creepy it was that his best friend knew how long he looked at his food and how you spit out three profanities in one sentence.

“Shut up.” your face turned red, embarrassed that your habit of knowing the exact time was showing. You developed this meticulousness back when you were writing your thesis paper. Time was precious. Thanks fuck you were done with it.

You graduated today. You and Jungkook were currently eating noodles to celebrate. Your best friend initially demanded that you cook his favorite crab spring roll, but your hands were tied. The graduation ceremony took forever to finish; your professors and friends even pulled you to celebrate after.

You were not a killjoy, but you didn’t want to end this day without seeing your best friend, so you quietly ditched the party and sought Jungkook’s company instead.

“You really came to see me. What a good girl you are.” Jungkook cooed when he saw you waiting at his doorstep. “ Here, your graduation gift.”

“HA!?” You were dumbfounded upon seeing his present. “You got me a choker?!”

“Of course! You are so busy these days. I got you a collar so you wouldn’t forget who you belong to.” Jungkook said in jest to conceal his selfishness. He wished you could spend more time with him, not just fleeting moments like eating spicy noodles in a small food cart, which he didn’t even like.

“Why the fuck did you order it if you don’t like spicy noodles!?” A vein popped into your head.

Jungkook groaned, “You know how much I hate upsetting a pretty lady.”

The ‘pretty lady’ Jungkook was referring to was an old lady called Louisa, the owner of the ADA--the food cart. This place was near your high school alma mater. You and Jungkook still went here despite graduating high school many years ago.

Jungkook usually ordered the shop’s best-seller crab spring rolls, which inspired you to make your version of said food. You remembered begging Louisa to teach you how to make it, but the lady couldn’t just give away her family’s recipe. She taught you the basics, and that was where you started until you got Jungkook’s approval.

Content with your version, Jungkook no longer ordered spring rolls whenever you two ate at ADA. He preferred their crab noodles, but only spicy foods were left now since you arrived late. Jungkook refused to change stalls because he adored Louisa.

“You’re really something.” You bought a can of milk for Jungkook to counter the spiciness of his noodles.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks in appreciation. He was happy that he managed to take a few bites and ignore the old man across the street who was singing out of tune.

Natsume was what the old man called himself. He had been doing his business across ADA for a long time. The only reason he wasn’t shooed away was that his performance wasn’t a song at all. He was making up random tunes while expressing what the ‘future’ of some people would be like.

In short, he was a fortune teller, and all his ‘predictions’ apparently came true.

Jungkook didn’t dare believe him. He got particularly annoyed at Natsume when he predicted his future and yours. He sang, “Fall out, fall out, you two will have a fallout. One so nasty it will break your hearts, with no hopes of returning ~.”

Jungkook still cringed every time he remembered that. He looked at you, ready to ridicule the fortune teller in front of you.

Who would have thought this was the start of the fortune teller’s prediction coming true? You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, but you did, saying, “Jungkook, what are your plans for the future?”

You were influenced by the main topic at the graduation party earlier. Everyone you knew was planning their future. You feared Jungkook wasn’t doing the same—that he wouldn’t belong.

“Haven’t I told you already? Jimin-hyung and I are committed to our business.”

Your jaw automatically ticked upon hearing Jimin’s name. You never really hated anyone, but Jimin might be the exception. Jimin was why Jungkook dropped out of university. He coaxed Jungkook into emptying his bank account for Bighit, their Business Process Outsourcing venture.

Now Jungkook was broke, only relying on his small interest in Port Mafia.

“How about school? Don’t you plan on going—”

“No.” Jungkook ruthlessly cut you off. The move didn’t deter you from speaking your mind, though.

“Why not? You only need to finish two semesters to graduate. It’s a pity you’re settling with just this.”

“Just what?” Jungkook raised his brow, irritation flaring up. He had a hunch of what you were implying.

Sure enough, you swallowed hard to cover your nervousness. “With this…I mean…dropouts are…” You struggled to find the right words to say.

Jungkook huffed, supplying the words for you. “…are what? Stupid? Lazy? Unambitious? Or a waste of time?”

“Oi, don’t put words into my mouth.” You hissed, getting pissed off too.

“But that’s what you wanted to say, right? You think lowly of me. You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jungkook heard all kinds of snide remarks when he dropped out of university. His adviser even called him a lost cause— that he would never be successful if he didn’t finish school.

  Bullshit.

Jungkook felt acid crawling up to his throat. “People like you think you’re above everyone just cause you have a degree, right? Arrogant.”

You lost your composure because of how hurtful he was being.

“So what if I’m arrogant!?” You dropped your chopsticks, no longer in the mood to eat. “I’ve earned a degree. I’m finished with my commitment, unlike you, who quit and only settled with faking smiles and licking the butt holes of people richer than you!”

“You--!” Jungkook clenched his fist. He always knew his best friend had a sharp mouth. You said things that made sense, but damn, they hurt. This wasn’t the first time you said something biting, but it was the first time you had hurt Jungkook’s feelings.

It was too late when you realized what you had said. Jungkook’s eyes were already red. You knew Jungkook hated fake pleasantries and wooing greedy businessmen, yet you used those things as a weapon to hurt him.

Truly a low blow.

“Screw you.” Jungkook spat before storming off.

Feeling defeated, you didn’t run after him, deciding to just go home alone and leave Jungkook to cool off.

But the following day, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. The thing about you was you couldn’t bear fighting for real with your best friend. Bickering with him was fine, but you’d rather die than really hurt Jungkook.

You rang the doorbell. It was early in the morning. 4am. Every second that passed knowing you and Jungkook were not okay was like a stab in your heart.

Surely, Jungkook had calmed down. If he hadn’t, you would accept any kind of punishment. You just wanted to see him.

“Come on.” You pressed the doorbell once again. It never took Jungkook two rings to open the door for you, so you seriously considered breaking in.

But to your delight, the door swung open before you could do something stupid.

“What is it?” Stone cold voice hit you on the face.

A lot. You wanted to convey many things, such as apologizing and saying Jungkook had misunderstood your point. However, looking at your best friend’s still angry face left you no choice but to lower your eyes. Your heart felt like it was pricked by thousands of needles.

You knew you were in the wrong. You could only raise the paper bag you were holding.

“I made crab spring rolls. Do you want them?”

“What makes you think I want them?” Jungkook crossed his arms, which caused you to swallow hard.

You bit your lip too, looking at Jungkook despite your guilt. “You’re right, you might not want them anymore, but I can only bring this hoping you’d accept my apology and also...also to—”

You weren’t planning to bring this up while still outside Jungkook’s home, but you couldn’t bear to look at his angry face anymore.

You voiced out your trump card. Your last resort. “—to ask you if you’re willing to guide me on investing at Bighit?”

As expected, Jungkook was shocked. His lips parted wide. “Why? You don’t mind licking butt holes with me?”

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” You pushed the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “I was wrong, okay? I’m an arrogant devil. ”

You craned your neck, purposely showing off the choker adorning your neck.

Fire danced in Jungkook’s eyes. He lowered the paper bag to cover the bulge in his sweatpants.

Fucking hell, you’re so hot. Jungkook scolded himself, forced to contour his expression to neutral.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come in.”

Needless to say, you left Jungkook’s apartment feeling grateful that you had a choker to cover some obvious bite marks.

Present, 2023:

“Pwetty lady! Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want!” A certain someone was banging the top of ADA’s table, almost as if he couldn’t wait for even one more second.

“Hey, kiddo. You already ate seven pieces.” You folded your arms across your chest, your brows furrowing at the small child sitting before you.

The said the child pouted his lips, his eyes losing their sparks.

Jungkook’s sparkling eyes were still vivid in your mind, probably because you had just finished reminiscing about what had happened five years ago. As a result, you couldn’t help but associate this kid with your former best friend.

You always thought that Jungkook’s eyes could replace the stars. It was your weakness. Those eyes made you want to dig your heart out and give it to Jungkook for free. The universe knew about this, so why must you suffer it the second time?

Why did Soobin, the kid in front of you, have to have the same sparkly eyes as Jungkook?

“Spring roll! Want!” They even had the same favorite food.

You scoffed. Like father like son, huh?

“A brat dares to make demands when he can’t pronounce the words right? Spring yoll, my ass.” You mocked the kid.

Soobin ignored you. He continued banging on the table.

“Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want! Spring yoll!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy you more. Just you wait, young master.” You playfully rolled your eyes, giving in to the request of your adoptive son.

“Is it that good?” You took one piece of spring roll. It had been many years since you last tasted this. Back then, you’d rather have Jungkook eat them all.

“Good! Very good!” Soobin stuffed another piece inside his mouth, clearly enjoying it.

The kid was right. The crab spring roll was delicious. It tasted the same way it did five years ago. You unconsciously gripped your phone, fixing your gaze on the screen as if waiting for a New Year’s miracle.

But it never came.

Last night, you met up with Jungkook, hoping to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was drunk.

Now that he was sober, you thought he would call.

What wishful thinking.

“But nothing’s changed.” You thought to yourself as you looked around the place. ADA was still open for business; its famous spring rolls were still loved by many. Even Natsume was still singing across the street. The only difference was that you couldn’t hear the old man singing.

ADA expanded its business. They now had alfresco dining. You chose to eat inside the restaurant, afraid Soobin would catch a cold.

Everything stayed the same except for people. Back then, you went to ADA with your best friend. Years later, you went to ADA with your former best friend’s kid.

You could only swallow the bitterness down your stomach.

“Full! Wanna go home! Sleep!” Soobin said after eating the last piece of spring roll.

You hummed, “We’ll go home in a while. Count one to one hundred first.”

Soobin threw dirty looks at you as if to say, “This young master doesn’t know how to count!” You laughed a little. Of course, he couldn’t count up to a hundred yet. He was still so young.

So young.

But someone had already missed a few years of Soobin’s life.

You looked at your phone again.

Still no call.

“Alright, Bin-bin. Let’s go home.”

At last, you and your son left the food shop. As you two walked out, the horrible singing voice of the fortune teller reached your ears.

His lyrics were as nasty as before. Soobin covered his ears in annoyance, asking you to walk faster as he didn’t want to hear Natsume sing:

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

the boy saw black

and the girl saw red

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

how cruel it is

to have you waiting

for someone who can’t

 even

breathe.

****

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A/N: comments motivate me to write. leave some if you can ~~ ❤️

[quitealotofsodapop]

OK!

Now ive seen the first two episodes of S5 and heres my gut reaction:

Wukong address that MK is a stone monkey like him - but he honeslty isn't sure how.

MK is super sleep-deprived from night terrors.

Macaque is living on FFM, covered in baby monkeys as per usual. Is def the more "rip the band-aid off"-sort of guy.

When Macaque worries on who brought back the Brotherhood - Wukong points out that Macaque sort of came back out of nowhere too, eliciting an angry growl from Mac. Hehehe spicy.

The noodle gang rebuild the hut!! Apparently after the mountain got messed up in S4, Wukong tried living in a hut made of his own hair.

Wukong hugs MK!

Pigsy notices that MK is eepy and instructs him to help make some noodle soup. Pigsy reminices about baby-MK, and smiles knowingly when MK immediately falls asleep after eating. Apparently that specific soup recipe is the one MK ate the first night he found him.

Also screenshot spoiler;

Dadsy and bby!MK! As I suspected, MK was a papoose baby.

All the monkey having nightmares before the Ten Kings portal they asses to Hell.

EP 2:

Li Jing's a dick. Nezha is too scared to even speak up to him.

Where's Xiwangmu? Shouldn't she be in charge? Or is it a patriarchal system since Li Jing is the Emperor's son-in-law?

Macaque screams and reaches for Wukong when he sees the circlet!!!

Monkey jail.

Nezha visits the monkeys and info-dumps the tale of the Heavenly Pillars - a story MK actually knows! He makes Wukong "act more like Tang" to tell the story. Tang be the parent that told MK fairytales!

MK points out that a Pillar of Creation was destroyed once - in the mythos it was an angry water god named Gonggong - and that maybe another forced is trying to destroy it.

Monkey prison break via trickery and hair clones.

Sandy's new truck gets KO'd by falling monkeys.

The monkeys are now fugitives.

Li Jing uses the Circle mantra to stall Wukong - and Macaque immediately attacks him!!! Looks like the theory that Macaque attacked Tripitaka for using the circlet might be true!!

Macaque uses a shadow portal to put MK and Wukong inside the gang's (repaired) truck, and rushes at Li Jing to keep him distracted.

Macaque is trapped inside Li Jing's pagoda. :(

The "hooded King" watches the whole thing and laughs. Why do I think this might be Nine-Heads?

Overall, i am cautiously hyper-fixating.

lots of shadowpeach fodder.

I saw a spoiler that says that sadly, Li Jing isn't the main villain. And that they sorta fumble Nezha's relationship with him - Li Jing is the Buck Cluck of lmk dads. Especially since trying to make Li Jing look like a good dad, when he literally tried killing Nezha like twice in the mythos, and Dadsy is right there. Damn filial piety.

[olivermush]

Alec Hardy x GN! Reader

this is tooth rottingly sweet but it gets kinda spicy so beware.

Warnings: Alec not eating or sleeping, smut, so sweet your teeth will actually fall out, also briefly mentioned that the reader is a doctor, unprotected sex(wrap it before u tap it!!!)

It's been a hard day at work for Alec, and the only thing on his mind is resting next to you in his bed. As he walks into the apartment, eyes almost closed, he lets himself fall on the couch in the living room and groans while placing his head on your lap. You're surprised by his dramatic and sudden entrance.

“Hello love, long day?” you say, stroking his soft, messy, brown hair. You hear a sigh come from his breath.

"Just one of those days." He replies in a low voice while he leans on your lap. He glances at the ground for a moment and then stares at you.

"And all I wanted to do was come home." He adds with a frown.

“Aw, sweetheart. Have you had dinner? I could make my signature, world-famous, buttered noodles?” His eyes brightened for a second.

"That sounds amazing." He says in a relaxed way. He moves his head onto your lap as he closes his eyes.

"But I'm too tired to stay up right now. Can we just spend the evening in bed?" he asks.

“Of course, but you do need to eat. even if I have to shove it down your throat.” You say with a chuckle as you continue to massage his scalp lovingly. He smiles a bit and rests his head on your lap, enjoying the massage you are giving him.

"Yeah, I guess you are right. I guess some dinner wouldn't be too bad." He replies with a smile.

"But then let's go to bed and relax."

“Alright then, I'll get the pot started, it shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. We have wine if you would like a glass while you wait.”

He opens his eyes and looks at you with a nod.

"Yeah, a glass of wine after such a long day wouldn't hurt." He replies softly.

“I'll go lay down in the bedroom, call me when its ready?”

“All right, love,” you say, giving him a sweet kiss as he gets up. He walks slowly to the room, and as he closes the door behind him, you hear a sigh and some loud groans as he lies on the bed.

You can tell the day has been hard for him, but a hot meal, wine and your loving touch will help him relax. He often comes home in need of a meal and a kiss so you know how this goes.

You finish seasoning the noodles and bring his bowl and his glass of wine to the bedroom. “Bon appetit,” you say sweetly.

As you enter the bedroom, you see that he's already lying in bed. When he hears your voice, he opens his eyes and sits up a little, looking at you. He gives you a small smile while he takes the bowl of food from you. The smell of the food makes his mouth water, and he takes a big bite immediately.

“Don't forget to chew, love,” you say, chuckling as you sip your wine next to him.

He looks at you with a slight blush and chuckles.

"I'm too hungry to chew." He says in a joking way as he continues to eat quickly.

“Well I made some extra so you can take it for lunch tomorrow. Let me guess you didn't eat lunch again today? or breakfast?” you say concerned. He blushes a little as you ask about what he ate throughout the day.

"I don't have time for those things, especially on such a busy day like today. I barely had time to sleep last night." He replies, slightly embarrassed.

“You did sleep though, didn't you? How many hours, Alec…”

"Less than four, which isn't good I know..." He replies with frustration, looking down at the food in his hand. He takes another bite before continuing.

"But you can't expect me to sleep on a day like this, with so much to do and so little time..."

“I understand, you will be getting eight hours tonight if I have anything to do with it. How are any cases going to be solved if their head detective is sleep-deprived and starved? Dating you is a public service honestly.” You say jokingly as you begin to run your fingers through his hair again. You see him blush slightly as he looks at you with a small smile.

"Well, I always solve my cases, no matter what. I never let anything stand in my way. Except for you, of course. You are the only reason why I would be willing to stay home and relax." He adds, continuing to eat the rest of the food while enjoying your touch.

“Well I'm glad something will get you to slow down,” you say as you admire his beautiful hair and his adorable smile.

"Can I ask you something?" He says after finishing his food while he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Of course, love” He looks at you directly, and then after a few seconds of silence, he speaks.

"How come you always make me feel so loved?" He looks away for a moment, and then back at you with a subtle blush. A bit taken aback by his question, you answer,

“I’m a very transparent person. Also, I guess it's part of being a doctor, wanting to take care of everyone, especially the people I love.” You can tell that he's genuinely touched by your answer since his eyes are slightly teary and he's still a bit embarrassed.

"Your kindness and generosity are probably the things I love the most about you." He says softly, and then moves his hand and caresses the side of your face. You lean into his touch despite his hands being cold and dry.

“That's sweet of you, love.” I give him a chaste kiss on his hand

The kiss makes him blush slightly more, but he leans a bit closer to your lips, still caressing your face.

"I'm just speaking the truth." He says in a low voice as he moves his hand to your nape and brings your body closer to his, then he kisses you softly. You kiss back happily with your hand still in his hair. You scoot closer to him on the bed as your other hand rests on his chest. The feeling of your hand in his hair is very pleasant, and he keeps slowly pulling your body closer to him while the kiss becomes more passionate.

When your hand moves to his chest, you can feel his heart beating rapidly against your palm.

You move to straddle his lap and your arms snake around his neck and tug slightly on his hair. The pulling on his hair makes his breath shaky and his back slightly arches, showing that he's enjoying the feeling.

As your hand moves to his neck, he opens his eyes looks at you, and then puts his hand onto your hips to pull you even closer to him.

You grind slightly against his hardening member while still kissing him sweetly and running your fingers through his thick hair. The movement makes him let out a soft groan, and his hand moves from your hips to your back as he pulls you even closer to him. His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as he starts to pull you against him, while his other hand slides down your side before it starts to rub your hip. You continue kissing him still while you start to unbutton his shirt slowly while caressing his chest. The feeling sends shivers down his spine. As you caress his chest, he leans his head back slightly and closes his eyes. The feeling of your touch combined with the kiss is heavenly, and at one point he is completely lost in the moment. He slides his hand to your lower back, and it starts to slide up and down. When you finish unbuttoning his shirt you start kissing and nipping around his collarbones while grinding against him slightly.

He lets out a soft sigh as you kiss him, and his other hand starts to rub your side a bit more boldly. He feels a small shock going through his body when you start grinding against him. But he is still completely lost in the moment of passion and he doesn't care about anything else. You scoot back a bit, much to his dismay, and start to unbuckle his belt and trousers feverishly with haste. The feeling of your hand pulling on his trousers makes his breath even heavier and his body starts to twitch slightly. He opens his eyes, and his look is full of desperation and excitement. He knows what's coming, and his heart is beating so rapidly that you can see the pulse beating at his neck. You pull off his trousers gently and free his hard member. You start licking, gently teasing him while your hand runs up his lower abdomen, caressing his happy trail. His body tenses as you tease him mercilessly while he reaches to run his fingers through your hair. Still keeping your actions chaste, Alec is melting under your touch.

“Please, Y/n,” he whimpers. You happily indulge his vague request, taking his tip into your mouth, and wrapping your lips around him sweetly. He moans at your obedience, now grabbing fists of your hair and bucking his hips slightly. Not wishing to tease him too much anymore, you begin to take him all, moaning slightly at the fullness in your throat and his beautiful scent in your nose. Alec is a total mess at this point, his thick, brown hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead and his face and ears are as red as a field of poppies. After a while of oral heaven, you pop off of him, still stroking him slowly as you move up to kiss him. The kiss is hot and sloppy as tongues and lips collide and you're both moaning into each other's mouths. You kiss him while undressing yourself, his shaky hand reaching out to help you. Finally undressed, you move over him as you guide him into your wet heat. You sink down slowly, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself, squeezing him slightly. His hands are on your ass, spreading you wonderfully and guiding you down. “You feel so good, Y/n,” He moans. Fully sheathed, you start to roll your hips sensually as you kiss him again. Then you start moving up and down, moaning loudly as you do so. You can feel him twitching inside you at each pornographic noise that leaves your mouth. His lanky member tickles every spot inside you just right.

“So good, Alec, fuck,” You moan, lovingly. Your hands reach up to comb through his hair again, tugging slightly making Alec moan loudly. His hands smooth over your hips as he starts thrusting roughly, taking control. As he takes control you wrap your arm around his neck again, fingernails scraping down his back. This makes Alec snap, he wraps his arms around your back as he flips you onto your back, planking over you as he kisses and nips at your neck leaving traces of purple and red. One arm wrapped around your back and the other stabilizing himself on the bed, he begins rutting into you harshly, chasing his orgasm like a cat in heat. Your fingers scrape down his back again, definitely leaving red tracks down his spine and up between his shoulder blades. He starts rubbing at your sex, trying to make you cum.

“Oh god, Alec, right there!” you scream as your orgasm rushes over you in waves like a tsunami.

“That’s it, darling, cum for me,” he demands. As soon as you finish he pulls out and cums on your belly. He curses and moans as he finishes, both of you now panting heavily. He kisses you sweetly while caressing your hair.

“I love you, Y/n,” He says as he kisses your forehead.

“I love you too, Alec,” you say smiling. “Don’t think that this means you’re going to get out of sleeping eight hours tonight.”

“I know, my love,” He says sweetly, knowing you're completely serious. “Let’s at least shower first though, get this mess cleaned up,”

“Yep,” you agree, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

The shower was short, he almost fell asleep standing up when you washed his hair for him. After the shower, you both changed into some comfy clothes, slid into bed and cuddled until you both fell asleep. For the first time in probably a whole week, Alec got eight hours of sound sleep with no nightmares.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

which turtle do you think can handle spice? lol i made some spicyx2 ramen for dinner and both my parents asked me if this was food or nuclear war fare, they got scared of how red the ramen broth was lol

Spicy Food (Headcanon)

A/N: The lucky wheel decided on the 03 boys for this one, so here we go💚 I myself am very bad with spicy food, like it's really bad. Like, if the food does as much as touches anything spicy, I can’t eat it. But I think the guys generally would have a way better time handling it💚

--------

Leonardo:

Leo does pretty well with spicy food. He’s used to Splinter’s spicy noodle soup, and was always the angel that ate everything his father made for him, without complaining. Not that he ever complained. According to his taste buds, all of Splinter’s cooking was amazing.

When Mikey started taking over in the kitchen, Leo could not help but find the food a little… What is the right word? Uhm… bland? But don't get him wrong, Leo loves his little brother’s cooking, but he did prefer his father’s addition of spice to the food. It just that feeling in his mouth that reminded him of childhood.

Although Leo is a terrible cook, and has been ordered by his whole family to never touch the stove or the oven, Leo did know how to use the kettle for tea, and the microwave for making leftovers. But he also knew how to make instant cup noodles as a snack, often finding himself gravitating towards the extra spicy once. But even then, he often finds that they aren’t spicy enough, and adds a little more himself.

Raphael:

Raph has a love hate relationship with spicy food. On one hand he loves spicy snacks, but on the other he isn’t a big fan of warm and spicy meals. As a child it had almost caused several meltdowns at the dinner table, back when Raph didn’t have the words to clearly explain to Splinter that the noodle soup was causing him middle discomfort.

Raph could not explain it. It was as if the heat from the food made the spice so much stronger, to a point where he just couldn’t eat it. Even as a teenager and as an adult, he would let the soup cool down for a bit, before finally feeling comfortable enough to eat it.

But funnily enough, Raph LOVES spicy snacks. Chili chips or at least some kind of spicy dip with his chips, and this guy would be happy.

Raph once shared some of his chips with Casey, not thinking they were so strong. But neither Raph or April had ever seen someone run so fast to the fridge for milk, giving Raph a hint that his snacks may be spicier than he first thought.

Donatello:

No one knew for sure, but there was this theory in the Hamato family, that Donnie’s taste buds were immune to pain. Donnie did not seem to care if his food was spicy or not. The important thing for him was that it tasted good, and that the texture didn’t make him run for the hills.

Leo had long speculated that it came from years of caffeine addiction, but that did not explain how seemed to have shown the same behavior, years before he even tried coffee for the first time. Spicy food just didn’t bother Donatello.

With that being said, it’s worth mentioning a time where Donnie’s spice tolerance really came to show. One day, an absolutely sleep deprived Donnie had made himself a cup of coffee, but in his sleepy state, he had added hot sauce to his drink, instead of the milk. The horror on his brothers’ faces when he took a sip, and went as far as to say that it even tasted better than usual, before he went back to work in his lab.

Michelangelo:

Mikey had never been a picky eater, but if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was spicy food. It had been like that since… pretty much forever. Sure, Mikey could eat mildly spicy things, but he just had a taste for more sweet things.

Mikey’s food making was therefore obviously less spicy than Splinter’s. But just because his food was less spicy, it didn’t make it any less good. Mikey’s cooking was amazing, even if Leo seemed to miss the good old days, where his mouth was about to burn off.

But Mikey’s mild intolerance for spicy food, gave Raph a great opportunity for a prank. One day while Mikey wasn’t looking, Raph added one of his spicy chips to Mikey’s already opened bag of salty chips. The scream that followed when Mikey then unexpectedly bit into that one chip, was so loud that people on the street above looked around in confusion. It was no surprise that all of Donnie’s milk suddenly disappeared after that, having been drunk by a hysteric Mikey that desperately tried to kill the fire in his mouth.

[radioisntdead]

Ways to piss off an Italian

Alternatively three ways to cartoonishly piss off an Italian

Hazbin hotel x reader [Platonic]

Warnings:

Italian stereotypes, just jokin' around this is all in good fun! I put an Imp OC of mine in as the reader assistant! She just pops in and out to stir things up! Reader's learning to cook other types of food because they've hadn't had to cook for themselves in ages they just had others do it. Ending is a little off but we don't talk about that I finished this at 6 am I need sleep, Angel isn't that pissed mostly dismayed

Good evening folks! This is a side story with Eldritch horror reader and Angel dust because he's Italian, this is somewhat inspired by my own bit of how my younger self made it her mission to piss off Italians because of that Italian TikTok duo back in 2020-2021 [???] She did not succeed as she did not know any Italians and all she did was eat spaghetti noodles with anything but a fork.

this is also the 100 followers special! Now at the time of posting we are FAR past that at 207! but better late then never! Thank you so much for the support, I genuinely did not think this many folks would like my silly little writings, I adore getting y'all's requests, comments, and just appearing in my inbox genuinely it makes my day thank you! And I hope you enjoy!

Angel Dust took great pride in his Italian heritage and culture, as he was truly Italian.

Unfortunately he lived with a centuries old Eldritch horror who may or may not have lived in Europe during the bubonic plague and didn't understand the more "modern'' Italian or Italy at all, and others that didn't understand the "sacredness" of the Italians.

🍝The spaghetti.🍝

You took over cooking in the hotel, you and Alastor had begun fighting over the kitchen, whoever got there first got to cook and today, you were victorious.

You were exploring new recipes you had thus far made spicy tteokbokki and Korean corn dogs, some type of curry that was sonic blue, teriyaki chicken, hummus and other things! You experimented with different flavors, seasonings,

These tasty things would've ended you if you ate it back when you were alive and not dying of the bubonic plague.

Anyways, you decided to give making spaghetti a try because you were in the mood for something fairly easy to make.

As you perused the recipe book while humming along to the songs playing from Alastor's radio show, you nodded noting down the ingredients before pulling out the phone that the little Imp that worked for you had bought you insisting you should have one to contact her instead of hunting her down at random and dragging her away.

You squinted as you scrolled through the few contacts you had until you reached said imp's phone number and slowly texted her a barrage of ingredients to buy.

Cece carefully opened the hotel doors and skittered over to the kitchen, having memorized the route since she delivered ingredients to you almost daily at this point.

You grinned as you took the ingredients from Cece's hands turning around to place them on the counter while she pulled up a chair and sat down waiting for the inevitable "Dear Cece can you cut this" or "Dear Cece can you stir this"

You washed off the tomatoes before slicing in an x and blanching them, you peeled the tomatoes after and diced them up before putting them aside to cut up yellow onions, you gathered them up and placed them into a pan, sprinkling in salt to unleashed the onion liquids and sweetness.

You added in some prechopped garlic and let it saute.

While that was happening you took the tomatoes and crushed them, once done you combined the tomatoes with the rest letting it simmer.

You added other components like herbs, basil and a little olive old at the end just for fun.

You filled up another pot with water to boil, sprinkling a twinge of salt and stirring it in.

You brushed your hands on your apron, as you scooted around to find the box of spaghetti noodles, grinning you opened it and take out the pasta.

It was at this unfortunate moment Angel dust decided to waltz on into the kitchen, intending to see what was for dinner and maybe snag something to munch on, you held the dry pasta over the pot, both hands gripping the ends

"Hey tentacles, what's for- WHAT THE FUCK!''

"Good evening Dearest Angel! I'm making spaghetti!"

You said unfazed as the pasta snapped in half and dropped into the pot as Angel dust watched in pure horror.

"Why would you do that?!" Angel asked, his voice pitched as he asked arms gesturing to the pot of sad broken pasta boiling away.

"Make spaghetti? I didn't think it was such a controversial meal"

"No! You broke the pasta! That's like the biggest sin ya can do! What is wrong with ya?"

"We're already in hell, I don't think sins matter much here," Cece popped in, you jumped slightly forgetting the imp was there.

"They do when it comes to' fuckin' pasta toots!"

Angel dust shouted before promptly turning around and leaving the kitchen, leaving you completely confused and Cece amused, unfortunately her amusement turned into irritation as you asked her to grab the ground beef and roll it into balls so you could cook them because meatballs.

During dinner time your spaghetti was a hit!

Charlie complimented your cooking saying you outdid yourself while Vaggie was grabbing a second serving, Sir Pentious enjoyed slurping up the noodles, Niffty kept stabbing the meatballs foe whatever reason, Husk seemed to enjoy the meal however Angel dust had one pair of arms crossed while he reluctantly ate, it was good he could admit but he knew the sin that you had committed while cooking, he knew that innocent pasta had been broken.

Angel dust almost died a second time when he walked into the kitchen later that night for a midnight snack and witnessed a probably drunk Husk eating leftover spaghetti pasta with ketchup because the sauce you had made was on a higher shelf in the refrigerator and he didn't feel like climbing.

🍕 pineapple pizza time.🍕

You and Alastor had... For lack of better words got into a little fight over the kitchen, tentacles, shadows, mild mind control and other things were used until Vaggie stepped in and separated the two of you,

It was decided that pizza would be ordered for the hotel, much to Alastor's disapproval.

Cheese, pepperoni, pineapple and ham, and supreme were the pizzas ordered unbeknownst to Angel dust since he was coming back to the hotel from a hangout with Cherri.

"Angel! Welcome back we ordered pizza!" Charlie said waving the spider over as Vaggie placed the pizza boxes onto the table.

"Great! I'm starvin'!" Angel walked over just in time to see the box containing pineapple pizza opened up.

"Nevermind I'll starve."

"We have other pizzas Angel."

Vaggie did not get paid enough to deal with this, she didn't even get paid!

Angel dust was extremely disappointed in you, you were the one to suggest getting pineapple pizza because you quote, "Never had it before and wanted to try it",

You were well over a few centuries old, you weren't a child, you had gone to hell and become an overlord that rained terror for a couple of years and therefore you should've been able to tell that pineapple on pizza was a crime against humanity, so what if pizza wasn't a thing during your time, it was a thing that came to be while you were down here!

He had later lectured you about it, it was amusing to you! You were a feared overlord and yet this little Italian guy had the gull to lecture you, this was normal in families right? To not be afraid of each other? How wonderful!

The lecture eventually switched over to Husk who was eating pizzas folded which was just weird because he was just tasting the crust! What about the cheese? The sauce? THE SAUCE HUSK? DO YOU NOT TASTE IT?

Husk was too sober for the lecture, Alastor found it amusing though.

🇮🇹Italian PowerPoint presentation 🇮🇹

"Alright tentacles, we're havin' a intervention!" Angel dust said throwing his hands down on the coffee table as you sipped something from a teacup, probably tea.

"Is what you dragged us here for? This shit?"

Husk was here, how did he always get dragged into these things? Niffty was beside him trying to stab a roach, Charlie and Vaggie were out of the hotel, Alastor was hell knew where, probably doing radio stuff and Angel dust had somehow tracked down your assistant and dragged her there.

"Oh! Whatever for dearie?" You asked head tilted as you placed your cup on the table,

"You've committed so many fuckin' crimes in the past week! Ya' broke the pasta before puttin' it in the pot! Ya' put cream in the carbonara! Ya ate pineapple on pizza, I get we're in hell but are ya fuckin' kiddin' me?-" Angel moved his arms around to empathize his point "Not to mention that little fusion stunt, ya' deranged octopus!"

You hummed thinking about the meals you've made recently before responding, "I don't think I made anything bad?"

"You decided to put tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni on cooked ramen and stuck it in da' oven and ate it."

"It wasn't as good as the little people on the interwebs said."

"OF COURSE IT WASN'T GOOD IT WAS A CRIME! IT CAME OUT OF THE DEEPS OF HELL."

"Eh, it wasn't that bad" Cece popped in to stir the pot, Angel slowly turned around becoming slightly more spidery

"The fuck did ya just say?"

Cece shrugged, "Food's expensive and I need to eat."

Cece was picked up and thrown on the couch with you as Angel dust set up a PowerPoint presentation about the history of Italian food and whatever else, You did not want to be here you'd rather be drinking your drink in peace, Husk didn't want to be here he'd rather be drinking, your hellborn imp assistant didn't want to be here, she's never going to Italy she didn't need to know this and Niffty, well she's still stabbing things on the floor.

By the time Charlie and Vaggie returned you had zoned out completely and your mind was elsewhere, Niffty was napping on your shoulder, Cece had escaped by asking Angel if garlic bread was Italian and while he went on that tangent she ran out abandoning everyone.

Husk was more dead inside then per usual, he wasn't paid enough for this, the first hour was fine but this had been going on for five hours at this point, how did Angel dust manage to drag this PowerPoint presentation out so long?

Vaggie shut it down after it was realized that you weren't responding and they thought you had somehow died,

You did not die and you eventually snapped out of it when a white cloth was put over you in order to hide the body.

Good evening folks! Thank you for turning on in! I hope you enjoyed, my apologies for taking forever to get this out, if your wondering why it feels like there's a missing gap that's because I wrote a whole lil' thing of reader and Alastor combining forces to annoy Angel and I accidentally deleted it.

I'm gonna rewrite it eventually and add it to a different fic with Eldritch horror reader, also If your wondering why I have an imp OC in here there is a reason with Eldritch horror and their family complex you'll see eventually

I'll be getting the readers backstory which will be the 200 follower special out [hopefully] soon so tune on in for that! Thank you again have a wonderful day!

[zapreportsblog]

BEEN THROUGH THIS

➥ summary : miles cheat on you but don’t worry you ain’t trippin

➥ cheating! Miles Morales x Reader, Hobie Brown x Reader

➥ a/n: had been inspired by @thebestandrealestever fic “NOT YOU TOO”

The New York skyline glowed with the soft hues of dusk as (Y/N) sat perched on the couch in Miles Morales' apartment. The familiar comfort of his living room surrounded her, yet a sense of unease lingered in the air. Miles had been acting peculiar lately, and it was becoming impossible for her to ignore.

They had spent countless evenings like this, side by side, their laughter filling the space as they shared stories and dreams. But recently, Miles seemed distant—his smile not as bright, his attention elsewhere. It was as if a curtain had fallen between them, and (Y/N) was left to grapple with the uncertainty of the change.

"Hey," Miles called as he bounded up the stairs, a smile lighting up his face. "The food's here!"

(Y/N) managed a smile, hoping to mask the concern that gnawed at her heart. "Great, I'm starving."

As Miles disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve their takeout, (Y/N)'s gaze drifted to his phone resting on the coffee table. It was there that she had seen the signs—the late-night messages he quickly silenced, the missed calls, and the whispered conversations he tried to hide. She had tried to push away the doubts, to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the distance between them had become too great to ignore.

Just as she was about to shake off her thoughts, a message notification flashed across Miles' phone screen. The name Gwen appeared, and curiosity got the best of (Y/N). A knot formed in her stomach as she glanced over the messages—innocuous at first, but as she scrolled, her heart dropped.

"You free tonight?" Gwen's message read, followed by a string of messages that seemed to confirm what her intuition had feared.

Her heart raced, a storm of emotions swirling within her chest. She felt betrayed, hurt, and a profound sense of loss. The words on the screen were a painful reality—a reality that revealed Miles' infidelity.

Just as the weight of the truth settled over her, Miles returned, a bag of takeout in his hand. He smiled, the façade of normalcy masking the truth that lay beneath the surface. "(Y/N), I got your favorite—spicy chicken noodles."

She managed a weak smile, her heart aching as she accepted the food. "Thanks, Miles."

They ate in silence, the once-comfortable camaraderie now shattered by the truth that hung heavy between them. Every bite felt like a struggle, every moment a reminder of what had been lost.

As the evening grew darker, the urge to confront Miles gnawed at (Y/N), but she resisted. Instead, she played it cool, pretending as if nothing was amiss. As their meal came to an end, a ding sounded from Miles' phone once more.

"Sorry, I have to head home," (Y/N) said, her voice calm despite the tempest of emotions within her.

Miles looked up, his brow furrowed. "Already? You usually stay later."

"Yeah, just got something I need to take care of," she replied, standing and grabbing her jacket.

Miles nodded, his gaze lingering on her. "Okay. Let me know if you need anything."

She managed a half-hearted smile, her voice steady as she spoke. "I will."

Gathering her resolve, (Y/N) left Miles' apartment, the weight of his betrayal a burden she couldn't escape. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn't help but feel the sting of tears threatening to spill. The pain of Miles' actions was a wound that cut deep, leaving her to navigate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within.

Once outside, she walked briskly, the distant sound of city life a distant backdrop to the turmoil in her mind. The truth had shattered the world she had built with Miles, and the path ahead was uncertain.

With each step, (Y/N) resolved to confront the reality of her situation—to find closure and, ultimately, to heal. The foundation of trust had crumbled, but within her, a glimmer of strength burned—a determination to rebuild her life, to rediscover her sense of self, and to move forward in a world forever changed by the unraveling threads of a love once cherished.

Upon getting home she made her way upstairs to her bedroom but now in the confines of her room, (Y/N)'s emotions had transformed from sorrow to a fierce anger that roiled within her chest. She felt the need to release the seething frustration that consumed her, and so, she found herself screaming into her pillow, her voice muffled but her anger echoing in the room.

With each scream, she pounded her fists onto the pillow, the strikes serving as a vent for the fury that raged within. The pain in her knuckles mirrored the pain in her heart, and the act of releasing it felt cathartic in its own twisted way.

As the echoes of her screams subsided, her breathing came in ragged gasps, her body drained from the intensity of her outburst. Collapsing onto the bed, (Y/N) stared at the ceiling, the weight of her emotions now tempered by a newfound determination.

Her phone lay on the bedside table, a lifeline that connected her to her friend who had been a constant support throughout her tumultuous journey. With trembling fingers, she dialed the familiar number, her heart pounding as she waited for the call to connect.

"Hey," her friend's voice greeted her, warm and comforting.

Tears welled in (Y/N)'s eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness anymore—they were tears of anger, determination, and a desperate need for clarity.

"Hey," (Y/N) replied, her voice cracking slightly. "Can we talk?"

"Of course," her friend responded, her tone gentle and understanding.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) recounted the events of the evening—the cold distance, the heart-wrenching discovery, and the overwhelming anger that now coursed through her veins. Her friend listened patiently, offering words of sympathy and comfort as (Y/N) poured out her heart.

"You don't deserve any of this," her friend said, her voice carrying a mix of empathy and outrage. "You're stronger than you realize."

(Y/N) nodded, even though her friend couldn't see. "I know. And you know what? I'm done being sad. I'm furious."

There was a pause before her friend responded, her voice holding a hint of mischief. "Well, fury can be a powerful motivator."

(Y/N) furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," her friend's voice held a hint of mischief, "why not channel that anger into something that empowers you? Get even in your own way."

A surge of energy coursed through (Y/N) at the suggestion. It was a dangerous idea, one that went against her moral compass, but the thought of taking control of her life was enticing.

"You mean..." (Y/N) hesitated, her mind racing as she considered the possibility.

"I mean," her friend continued, her voice taking on a sly edge, "if he can cheat, then so can you. Show him that you won't be the victim in all this."

(Y/N) felt a knot form in her stomach. The idea of revenge wasn't something she had ever considered, but her friend's words were a tempting whisper of possibility.

"I don't know if I can do that," (Y/N) admitted, her voice wavering.

Her friend's tone softened. "I'm not saying you have to. But consider this—your relationship is no longer the same after what he did. When he cheated everything and everyone was up for grabs if he didn't want it to be an open relationship, he shouldn't have cheated in the first place."

(Y/N) was silent for a moment, her mind in turmoil as she grappled with the moral implications of the idea. The pain of betrayal was still raw, but the suggestion her friend had given her was a fierce reminder that she deserved better.

As the call ended, (Y/N) lay on her bed, her heart heavy with the choices that lay ahead. The idea of getting even ignited a fire within her—a fire that burned with the desire to reclaim her power, to rewrite her narrative, and to prove that she could stand on her own terms.

With the room bathed in the soft glow of her bedside lamp, (Y/N) stared at her ceiling, a mixture of anger and determination churning within her. The journey ahead wouldn't be easy, and the choices she faced were complex, but within her heart, a spark had been ignited—the spark of a woman who refused to be a victim, who refused to be defined by someone else's actions.

She had been knocked down, but as she lay there, her resolve crystallized. It was time to rise, to reclaim her sense of self, and to show the world that she was far from powerless. With every beat of her heart, she embraced the truth—that the fire of her fury would guide her, fuel her, and ultimately lead her toward a future marked not by the pain of betrayal, but by the strength of her own spirit.

Lying in her bed, (Y/N) couldn't shake the tumultuous mix of emotions that churned within her. The conversation with her friend had left her with conflicting thoughts, but the seed of empowerment had been planted. As she contemplated her next steps, her phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her.

Glancing at the screen, she saw a message from Hobie—a friend who had always been honest and forthright, even if his opinions often rubbed her the wrong way. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she read his message: "Hey, you up?"

With a sigh, (Y/N) tapped out a reply: "Yeah, what's up?"

Hobie's response was swift: "Can I come over? Got something I wanna talk about."

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with the possibility of a distraction from her own thoughts. "Sure, come on over."

It wasn't long before a knock sounded on her door. (Y/N) got up and opened it, revealing Hobie standing there, a casual smile on his face.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping into the room.

"Hey," (Y/N) replied, offering him a faint smile.

As they settled into seats, Hobie's gaze lingered on her, his eyes sharp and assessing. "You okay?"

(Y/N) sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Honestly, no. But I'm trying to be."

Hobie nodded in understanding. "It's rough, what you're going through."

(Y/N) looked at him, surprised by the empathy in his voice. "You know?"

Hobie sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I've never been a fan of Miles, you know that. But I don't like seeing you hurt."

A mixture of emotions swirled within (Y/N) as she regarded Hobie. He had always been candid about his feelings for her, even when she was in a relationship with Miles. Their dynamic had always been complicated, filled with unspoken tension and unexpressed emotions.

"I appreciate that," (Y/N) said softly, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Hobie's gaze held hers, his expression earnest. "You deserve better, you know. Someone who values you and treats you right."

The weight of his words settled over (Y/N), a reminder that she wasn't alone in her pain. Hobie's friendship had weathered many storms, and despite their differences, his concern for her was genuine.

"I've been thinking," Hobie began, his tone measured, "about what you said earlier."

(Y/N) furrowed her brow, her curiosity piqued. "What did I say?"

Hobie's lips quirked into a wry smile. "About getting even."

A mixture of surprise and intrigue flooded (Y/N). "And?"

Hobie leaned forward, his gaze steady. "I've always told you how I feel, (Y/N). And I know you're going through a lot right now, but I can't help it. I care about you, more than I probably should."

(Y/N)'s heart raced as the unspoken tension between them crackled in the air. She had always known about Hobie's feelings, but to hear him lay them out so candidly was a revelation.

"Hobie..." she began, her voice a mixture of uncertainty and caution.

"I'm not saying this to take advantage of your situation," Hobie interjected, his voice firm. "But maybe it's time for both of us to move on from relationships that aren't making us happy."

(Y/N)'s mind raced as she considered his words. Hobie's feelings for her were no secret, and her own emotions were more complicated than ever. The possibility of exploring a new path, one that didn't involve the heartache she had experienced, was both tempting and frightening.

Hobie's gaze held hers, his expression vulnerable. "I know this is a lot to take in, and I'm not expecting an answer right now. Just... think about it."

As Hobie stood, preparing to leave, (Y/N) found herself torn between the past and the uncertain future that now lay before her. The pain of betrayal still lingered, but the possibility of finding solace in Hobie's friendship—and perhaps more—was a glimmer of hope that she hadn't expected to find.

Before Hobie left, (Y/N) found herself wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions that his confession had stirred within her. The idea of exploring a connection with him held both promise and uncertainty, and as she sat on her bed, she felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

“You know what, sure.” She called out to him.

As they settled into her room, the tension that had hung in the air earlier seemed to have dissipated. They decided on watching horror movies, a shared love for the genre that often led to laughter and playful teasing.

With the glow of the screen lighting their faces, (Y/N) found herself leaning back against the headboard of her bed, and Hobie settled comfortably between her legs, their bodies pressed close. The atmosphere was easy and familiar, a reminder of the camaraderie they had always shared.

As the movie played on, (Y/N) couldn't help but reach out and play with Hobie's hair, a gesture that had always been a source of comfort between them. His eyes fluttered closed, and a contented sigh escaped his lips.

Needing a distraction from the gruesome scene in the movie, she reached for her phone, fingers typing swiftly as she pulled up Gwen's Instagram profile. Her heart ached as she saw the picture—Gwen and Miles, hand in hand, their smiles radiant. The caption read, "Can't get enough of him #bestfriends." The pang of betrayal cut deep, a reminder that the wound was still fresh, and the reality of Miles' actions stung anew.

As she scrolled further, her mind raced with thoughts of retaliation, of showing the world that she was moving on, too.

After a while, she felt the urge to capture the moment—a candid snapshot that reflected the companionship they had found in one another. Grabbing her phone, she framed the shot carefully, capturing the scene of Hobie nestled between her legs as they watched the movie. The flickering light of the screen cast their profiles in gentle shadows.

With the photo captured, she added a caption that held a mixture of defiance and vulnerability: "Can't get enough of this #bestfriends." The words were a declaration of a bond that had always been present, and now, in the face of heartache and uncertainty, was blossoming into something new.

Hobie's eyes opened as she finished typing, his gaze meeting hers with curiosity. "What are you up to?"

(Y/N) held up her phone, showing him the picture and caption. "Just sharing a moment."

Hobie's lips quirked into a smile as he read the words, his expression a mixture of surprise and appreciation. "I'm honored love.”

As the movie continued to play, (Y/N) felt a sense of contentment settle over her. The pain of Miles' betrayal was still there, but in the presence of a friend who cared deeply for her, she found solace.

With every passing moment, (Y/N) was embracing the possibility of healing, of finding happiness in unexpected places, and of building a new narrative that was defined by her choices, her strength, and the companionship of someone who had always been there for her. As the movie's tension built on the screen, so did the quiet understanding between her and Hobie—a bond that was evolving, transforming, and guiding them both toward a future that held the potential for a different kind of happiness—one that was marked not by the pain of the past, but by the strength of their own choices and the connection that was slowly blooming between them.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Okay so I already have an idea for Tara from Scream. I was thinking where Reader had a stomach because she ate so much cookies and cakes. Tara is looking after her till Mindy brought in some delicious strawberry cupcakes. Reader was looking it very hungry, she try’s to get it but Tara didn’t allow her. At the end night where everyone was sleeping. Reader took this chance by sneaking into the kitchen and grab a cupcake till she saw Sam staring at her with a grin. Reader begged Sam not to tell her sister.

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: hope you like it bud. Sorry for any mistakes.

One things about parties was that you loved trying every single food that was brought. Whether it was the hotdogs that Ethan made. The spicy noodles that Anika made, the cookies Danny made, the chocolate brownies Quinn made, the chicken Sam made, the corn bread Chad made or the cake Tara made. You were eating good. Maybe a little too good.

You felt like you were going to explode. Unbuttoning your pants did not help. You were on the verge of the worst tummy ache. And unfortunately Tara had noticed.

“Baby I know you want to try everything but you’re gonna make yourself sick.” Tara had watched try every single dish on the table. She knew it was cause you wanted to make sure everyone’s food was tried. Which she found cute but now it was obvious you had eaten too much.

“But the cake is soooo good babe. I want more but I’m so full.” You groaned in annoyance. You wanted more cake but curse your stomach for getting so full so damn quickly.

“There will most definitely be leftovers. You are done. No more. I don’t want you getting sick.” She took your half eaten cake. Ignoring your whine of protest as she walked away with your plate. She was honestly amazed at how much you had ate. Complimenting everyone on how good their food was. She was even sure Ethan had sneaked you some extra bacon. Not to mention the food you had made that you also ate.

“Yo! My famous delicious strawberry cupcakes are finally done! Y/n! I added extra sprinkles on yours!” Mindy barged into the apartment with big dish filled with cupcakes.

Tara was quick to look at you. Your excitement, pure joy filling your eyes at the sight of the cupcakes. Now she did feel a little bad for intersecting you.

“No, go sit. I’ll save this for you for later.” She took the cupcake from Mindy.

“But Tar! Just a little bite. Please baby.” She felt herself almost cave in at her sight of your pout. But remembering how sick you got last time you over ate was enough for her not to cave.

“Sorry baby but no.”

*

The rest of the party was spent with you drinking some Alka Seltzer. It was nasty but you’d hope that your stomach ache would go away. Unfortunately it didn’t.

But night time arrived and you were now in bed. Tara cuddled up to you. Her face on your chest as you held her close. Now your stomach ache was gone and all you could think about was that cupcake. You tried to go to sleep but you couldn’t. That delicious cupcake was calling out your name. So with some skill, you got out of Tara’s grip with out her waking.

Sneaking into kitchen the dead of night was easy. With everyone asleep. Getting your cupcake was easy. You were now a bite in eating your cupcake in the dark. Humming in satisfaction at the delicious taste when the lights turned on. Your head snapping to who stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Standing there arms crossed as she leaned on the door frame.

“Please don’t tell Tara.”

Sam laughed as she shook her head. Grabbing what she came for, a bottle of water. “Enjoy the cupcake Y/n. I won’t tell.”

With a satisfied smile you continued to eat your cupcake. No longer worrying about getting a stomach ache.

:)

[lxvvie]

Asian food that i think the 141 peeps would have an obsession with

Price: honestly i think he’d love k bbq or hai di lao (or any hot pot in general). The man wants his MEAT🤣 but he likes the variety of other options like noodles and fish cakes n stuff. He’ll smoke his cigar while shooting some soju lmao. Catch him in a small corner of ur local hot pot place absolutely destroying 7 plates of meat all by himself. His asshole might suffer the next day tho from the spice.

Gaz: sashimi. He’s miss Nobu kween💅🏻. Knows exactly which place go, doesn’t matter which continent he’s at HE KNOWS. I feel like hes the only 141 person able to handle a lot of spices so hes down for something spicy. Other than that I think he also has an abnormal craving for thai food and tandoori chicken.

Simon: ….. panda express…. I think he will love all the buffets in general. Like Price this man likes the variety it comes with. The man is big and he needs to eat alot to maintain it. I dont think he is a picky eater, hell eat anything with sustenance BUT HE CANNOT INGEST OR EVEN TOLERATE SPICE. He eats a single chill pepper and hes on the toilet for the next 2 days. I used to eat this chinese dish at every major party growing up and i think Simon would appreciate it. Its translated to steam cabbage in boiled water (开水白菜). It sound very bland but making it is a very complicated process. Its like tender nappa cabbage in consommé? The broth is made of chicken, bone, meat, ect and it needs to boiled for a long time and filtered/purified to make a clear but rich broth. Dude had it once and came back to it every year😂

Soap: personally this man looks like he has a sugar addiction. He’ll eat sugar and anything with sugar in it. Mochi? ATE. gulab jamun? SWALLOWED 6 IN ONE GO. Moon cakes? Ate 7 of those in 1 sitting. Shaved ice? Gobbled that shit up already. Mango sticky rice? 2 slurps and its gone😭. Legit ANY asian sweets u can think of and he’ll start chomping.

Korean, Thai, and Vietnamese food is good asf. I finally got the opportunity to have some black bean noodles last September and good gawdt! 🫦

Price and Gaz's taste are on point. I can absolutely see this.

Panda Express is the only place I've ever known the food to be greasy and dry at the same time so I understand your pain, Simon. I think for all his humongous appetite, the man has a fairly sensitive stomach.

Soap's (and Alex's) crackhead energy ups by a thousand (1000) every time he has something sugary so this tracks lmao.

[actualbird]

your post about luke threatening to eat a crab got me to thinking: is there anything luke pearce won’t eat?

i hc that luke is a Vacuum Cleaner of questionable ingestion. yes, he will eat your leftovers. are you gonna eat those sides? if not, yes he will eat those sides. he will eat an apple thats been left too long in the fridge and has a worrying bruise. he will eat a candy thats been dropped on the floor for 5 seconds because he believes in the 5 second rule not because of the science of it but simply because he doesnt wanna let a good candy go to waste. he will eat those spicy noodles, he will eat those sour gummy worms, he will eat it ALL if it's edible.

i like to think that this is 50% because of his general personality and 50% because he was an orphan boy with a debilitating fear of Being A Burden taken in by another family so he told himself to NEVER waste food because thats Bad. this made him a very good boy who always ate his vegetables at the dinner table (mc would sneak veggies off of her plate to his plate in case she didnt like them, ugh, here, luke, you can have all my DISGUSTING PEAS) and it also made him a voracious little creature thatll never turn down a Treat.

[nxx meeting room]

marius: aw dang it, all the donuts i got for you guys yesterday have gone stale as hell

luke: i'll eat them

marius: what, no, theyre stale!

luke: i'll eat them

marius: GET YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM THIS BOX, I'LL JUST BUY NEW DONUTS

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter five: the island

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,2k. warnings: language, they’re talking about the bloody nose incident lmao, there are anxiety episodes, death and murder is used humorously, umm i can’t remember what else, lmk! an: these past few chapters have been a little dark, but bear with me!

“Happy moving day, (Y/n)!” Soobin and Taehyun cheer, raising their drinks with big smiles stretched across their faces.

“Welcome home, (Y/n)!” Yunjin joins in with a grin to match.

“Jjang!” you happily clink your cans together.

After spending the entire afternoon moving your things from your old apartment and into Yunjin’s, and then painting and furnishing your new room, you and your friends settled in the living room for a well-deserved dinner break.

You are gathered on the carpet around the round table where a feast befitting a king is prepared: crispy fried dumplings, soft fishcakes, spicy tteokbeoki, saucy black bean noodles, fresh pickled radish and ice cold cans of mountain dew. The delectable aroma wafts into your nose and makes your tummy rumble.

Taking a big slurp of your bowl of black bean noodles, you squeal in satisfaction with the warm, savoury taste. Soobin chuckles beside you, pushing the hair from your face as you take another cheek-filling mouthful. You can’t remember the last time you ate this well.

“Slowly,” Soobin says with an amused tone to his voice, grabbing a napkin to wipe the sauce from your chin. “You need space for everything else.”

You gulp the food down and poke your tongue out at him before taking another big bite. Soobin only laughs, nods and hums along with you, shifting the fishcake dish closer to you.

Taehyun takes a sip of his drink and sighs, his fondness of you making the corners of his lips pick up. “I would ask if you’re feeling okay, but from the looks of it you’re perfectly healthy.”

You give him an enthusiastic nod. “You know me. It’ll take more than a bloody nose to keep me out of commission.”

“That thought is not as comforting as you think,” Yunjin snorts.

You had been meaning to get new sneakers, but this pair had served you so well you were reluctant to do so – even with the new tear in the edge of the sole. You shrug. “At least I caught Taehyun on his break.”

“If anyone needed catching, it was you,” He laughs, popping a saucy rice cake into his mouth. “The nurses have had enough of you. Do you know they’ve nicknamed you Wonderwoman?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shrug, feeling a pleased with yourself.

“And she did have someone to catch her. Didn’t you, (Y/n)?” Yunjin smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your cheeks burn red and you hang your head in embarrassment.

Most people would have simply thought you were silly and walked away. And if there was a chance anyone did help you, your rambling would have pretty much done the trick of chasing them away with annoyed glares. But this person was different. He, as you presumed he was, had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. They were a brown so dark and shiny they resembled tapioca pearls. His eyelashes were long and pretty, your absolute envy. And with those gorgeous eyes, that pushed up into little crescents when he smiled at you, he looked at you with a fascination that made your heart leap.

He was so handsome. “And I almost broke my nose in infront of him!” you cry in shame, smacking your head, the scene replaying over and over in your mind.

“Oh now the broken nose concerns you?” Taehyun wheezes, shaking his head.

“Oh my god,” Yunjin says suddenly, banging her soda on the table and grabbing your shoulders, her eyes wide. “What if this is the man of your destiny?”

“Destiny?” Soobin snorts. “What are we, five?”

“And I don’t have time for dating anyway,” you sigh, eyeing the last two dumplings, but thinking better of it. You sit up and consider her with a raised brow. “Were you not the one who convinced me that men are trash?”

“I mean – I’m not usually a male apologist, but since you’re the only one in this friendship attracted to the species – I’m just putting it out there. You’ve never dated anyone before. Plus you said he was kind and pretty. The only person you’ve said that about is—” Then she snaps her fingers and gasps. “What if it was Beomgyu?”

You become animated and your eyes sparkle with interest. You grab Yunjin’s shoulders. “You think so? Really?”

“Want me to ask the cards?” She grins, unsheathing a mystical-looking indigo tarot deck from her bag.

“For the love of God,” Taehyun sighs, flinging a chopstick at Yunjin’s head. She yelps in pain and glares at him. She tries to throw it back at him, but he dodges effortlessly. “She didn’t even see his face. And he was wearing a mask, now he’s suddenly a kpop idol? What if he’s a serial killer? Stop enabling her.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he freezes. But then he shakes it off and continues eating.

“You’re probably right,” you sigh, pouting in defeat.

Soobin knocks the side of your head gently and places the dumplings in your bowl. “Just eat your food, silly. We still have to finish getting your room ready.”

Yunjin rolls her eyes. “Disbelievers.”

The finishing touch to your new room is one of your most prized possessions: a photo of you, Soobin, Taehyun and Yunjin outside a club in Hongdae four years ago. It was the night of Yunjin’s first big crowd, the day Soobin’s uncle made him manager of the café, the day Taehyun passed his first year with flying colours, and the day you had quit medical school and moved out of the dorms.

It was the first time you had truly become best friends.

It was the first time you felt like you had a family.

You polish the glass and place the frame in the center of the vanity Soobin had gifted you for the move. The smiles on your faces fill your heart with warmth and pride.

“Can you believe it has been four years?” you ask, smiling.

When there is no reply, you turn around to find your friends fast asleep. You pull out your phone and snap a photo, trying as hard as you can not to laugh.

Taehyun is curled up like a kitten at the end of your bed, Yunjin is laying in the middle of your bed on her back with her limbs splayed in all directions, and Soobin is laying across the pillows, his shirt riding up, tangerine paint on the tip of his nose, snoring softly.

You pocket your phone with a soft chuckle and decide to leave them be. Carefully removing your thick brown cardigan from under Taehyun’s head, you step out into the apartment and close the door carefully behind you.

Without the commotion and company of your friends, Yunjin’s place, that you have been to many times before over the years, felt strange.

The big, open space that was the kitchen and the living room, with its high ceiling and white downlights, its shimmering tiled, marble and metal surfaces, felt cold and alien and a little overwhelming. And as you walk through to the tall floor-to-ceiling window, pulling your cardigan tightly over your arms, feeling quite out of place, you wonder if it is really okay for you to stay here.

You loved Yunjin, but the fact that she was letting you stay here paying less than half the rent made you uneasy. You knew her well enough to know she meant every word she said, and you would never doubt her or her intentions.

You just… felt incompetent.

In the four years since you dropped out of college, what had you accomplished?

You had a dream, a vision, you were determined to work hard towards. You were moving to Seoul to live life on your own terms and make the future you wanted with your own hands.

But it was pure luck that you managed to find the old, small flat going for the rent it was. You had to beg for every job you had and had worked yourself to the bone every day for four years, only to receive setback after setback.

The space between you and your dreams seemed to become greater and greater with each passing day, until they were now faintly watching you in the distance from the far away shores of an island you’d never reach, across the dark waters of an ocean that continued to drag you further and further into its depths no matter how hard you resisted and fought.

What comes next, after this? Should you go back to school? Were you going to work part-time jobs until the end? Or were you going to keep mooching off your friends? Were you going to end up having to move back home, admitting absolute defeat?

Why is whatever I do not enough?

More and more thoughts and insecurities cleave into your brain and drive a hollowness into your chest until you can’t breathe and tears are burning in the corners of your eyes.

But before your anxiety can best you any further, you pull your earphones from your pocket and plug them in. You fight the trembling in your hands and force your eyes to focus on your screen. Maze in the Mirror begins to play in your ears, the song and its lyrics soothing your pain until you can breathe again.

My shoulders are only here

So you can rest

So that you can rest

You hum along, pulling your legs into your chest on the living room floor. You close your eyes and lean against the window, allowing its coolness to bring you comfort.

The dream you’re having, the one where you’re being consoled by the man with the beautiful brown boba eyes, who’s arms feel strong and soft and warm and safe, fills and mends the cracks in your heart until it is stolen from you as the song comes to an abrupt stop and your phone rings.

You read the caller ID and your throat dries.

You watch the phone ring and ring, until it stops and rings again.

A text pops up on the screen, and you feel the long, sharp, needle-like fingers of darkness latch onto you once more, eager to haul you off the cliff into inescapable torment.

But you won’t let it. You are not who you were four years ago.

You step out into the apartment building and make sure to hear the door lock before you continue down the hall to the elevator. A walk is good. A walk is what you need to clear your head. Maybe a cold red bean ice cream, too.

In the middle of typing a text to your friends to let them know you’re going to the convenience store at the end of the street, your phone rings again. Your nails dig into the palms of your hands, and for a split second when the elevator doors open, you consider picking it up.

At that same second, you step out into the lobby and bump into a hard body and your phone is sent clattering to the floor.

“Sorry!” you exclaim quickly, picking it up and bowing your head in apology. But when you look up, no one is there.

You spin on your heel and find the person standing in the corner of the elevator in dark clothing, with not a single sign of remorse. He grumbles, “Look where you’re walking.”

You glare at him. Before the doors can close, you stick your foot in and give him the most loaded smile you can muster. “You should take your own advice.”

Shaking his head, he starts toward you. You do not budge, until it appears he is not coming to you but for you. You shriek and close your eyes, jumping back. When you open your eyes again, the elevator doors are closing and he is back in the far corner with the same unbothered look about him. You scoff. “You jackass!”

You flip him off through the doors and stomp through the lobby angrily, growling in frustration when you get out onto the street.

“Who the hell does he think he is! I mean, we bumped into each other!” you yell, to yourself mostly, as you start toward the convenience store, making other pedestrians steer clear of your path. “And that face mask? Does he think he’s an idol? He could never compare to my kind Beomgyu,” you declare, pulling out your phone to take a look at the sweet, handsome man that was your lock- and homescreen.

Upon retrieving the device, however, you gasp and the shock causes your body to freeze.

There is a long crack from one corner of your phone to the next, small little fissure cracks meandering off from it to the rest of the screen. You jam the on button repeatedly, but it does not budge.

Your eye twitches.

“That damn jerk! You better hope we never cross paths again, idol wannabe, because if we do,” you laugh manically, “you’re so fucking dead!”

***

Beomgyu bangs the door behind him and doesn’t even bother to kick off his shoes before he enters the apartment.

He pulls off his mask, his jacket and his hat and throws them to the floor.

He slams open the bathroom door and climbs into the shower, turning on the cold water and letting it run over his head.

His breathing is heavy and labored.

His chest is numb and his heart, shattered.

He falls to his knees on the floor and sobs into his hands.

Why is nothing I do enough?

***

prev. | mlist | next

life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.

taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o @damn-u-min-yoongi (send an ask to be added!)

scintillasofbeomgyu © all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost in any way.

[crybabylulu]

Lunch time

(Sugar momma Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)

Summary: just being a good girl and bringing Lin her lunch

I was currently in the kitchen making lunch for Lin. I decided to make a tofu stir fry and I made sure to make it a little spicy. Once I was done I went to the bedroom to get ready. I did a bit of makeup, fixed up my hair and put on a short dress. After I got dressed up I packed up and made my way to her job. Thankfully it wasn’t a long walk. I made my way inside the station. “Hey.” Mako said as he came up to me. “Hey.” I said and gave him a hug. “Chief is in a meeting.” Mako said. “When will she be done?” I asked. “Not sure but you can go up to her office and wait.” Mako said. “Ok great.” I said.

“Also what did you pack for her?” Mako asked. “I packed your mom some tofu stir fry.” I said. “Stop calling chief my mom.” Mako said. I laughed as I walked up the stairs, I entered the office and placed the lunch box down. I sat down in Lin’s chair and just spun around in it. As I spun around I started to fantasize about Lin. I bit my lip thinking about riding her in her office. I rolled my eyes at the horny thoughts that came to my brain. I could just touch myself in her office chair. No, no no! I sighed.

Actually I’ll just hold that idea for later. I’m gonna have to find an outfit, maybe I can ask Asami for some help then make sure I bring my big bag to bring the strap with me. I’ll have her catch me touching myself in her office and then I’m sure she’ll spank me and then I get to ride her cock. My legs rubbed together. Ok maybe i can touch myself now. The door opened and I turned towards the door. “What are you doing?” Lin asked. “Hostile takeover.” I said. “Very cute.” Lin laughed and closed the door then walked over to me.

I got up and moved from her chair. Lin led me over to the couch and sat me on her lap. “I missed you.” I said. “I missed you too, baby girl.” Lin said and held me close to her. “Oh lunch! I almost forgot.” I said as I quickly got off her lap to grab the food. Once grabbed I sat back down and held out the bag to her. “Thank you.” Lin said as she took it. I nodded and watched her open the food. “I tried something new, tofu stir fry.” I said. “It looks good.” Lin said. “Hope it tastes good.” I said. I watched as she took a bite and then she scooped up more food and held it out to me.

I opened my mouth and let her feed me. “This is good, you did well.” Lin complimented. “Thank you baby, I’m glad you like it.” I said. “What did you eat today?” Lin asked. Oh I’m in trouble. “Huh.” I said. “I said," What did you eat?” Lin repeated herself. “Oh I just ate some noodles.” I lied. “You know better than to lie to me.” Lin said. I sighed. “How did you expect me to eat when I had to cook for you and get all pretty?” I asked. “You need to eat, it’s important. You feed yourself first and make sure you have water.” Lin said. “I had water, just no food and I need to make sure you eat because you don’t eat.” I told her.

“I eat.” Lin said. “No you don't, you run on coffee and green tea. That’s why we agreed I would cook for you.” I said. “You still need to eat, I worry about you.” Lin said. I stroked Lin’s cheek where her scar wasn’t. Last time I touched her scar she wasn’t happy. She pulled my hand away and got snappy at me. I didn’t mean any harm. “I worry about you. You need to take better care of yourself.” I told her. “I’m fine.” Lin said. “This city can’t be safe if you aren’t ok.” I said. “I know, baby.” Lin said and gently grabbed my hand then gave it a kiss.

“We should go on vacation.” I suggested. “Vacation?” Lin asked. “Yeah, why not?” I asked. “I’ll think about it.” Lin said. I shook my head. “Whatever you say baby.” I said. Lin fed me more of her lunch. I like it when we eat together like this. It’s very sweet. “What do you want for dinner?” I asked. “I won’t be home tonight.” Lin said. “Why?” I asked. “I have a lot of paperwork to do.” Lin told me. I guess I’m gonna have to bring her dinner tonight. I just nodded. I’ll probably just actually make noodles tonight I’m not sure. When Lin finished eating we decided to make out until her break was over.

I ran my fingers through her gray hair as we made out. It felt so good to be close to her like this. When her break was over Mako walked me home and I went to crash on the bed. I took a short nap. I'm lying. It was a long nap. I woke up around six pm I had to rush to take a shower. I washed off my makeup then my body. When I finished washing up I dried off then put on Lin’s robe. I went to the kitchen and started cooking. I made enough for her and I to eat together at the station. When I finished I packed up the food then I went to get dressed.

When I was done I grabbed all my things and then made my way to Lin. It was late at night and I know Lin is gonna be pissed off that I’m walking this late but I don’t care. She needs to eat! I made it to her job and went straight to Lin’s office. I knocked on the door and waited for her response. “Come in.” Lin said. I opened the door and saw Lin doing paperwork. “What do you want?” Lin asked. She hadn’t looked up from her work to notice me. Oh I can’t help myself, I'm about to say something dumb.

“I want to gag on your cock.” I said. “Have you lo,” Lin looked up and noticed me and I laughed. “What are you doing here?” Lin asked. “I bring dinner.” I said and showed off the bag. “I appreciate you but you shouldn’t,” “I don’t care. You need to eat.” I said and sat on the couch. Lin sighed then sat next to me. I gave her a bowl then I pulled out mine. “Now let us have dinner together.” I said. We ate and talked about her long day. “I won’t be home tomorrow night either.” Lin said. “Why?” I asked. “Criminals being criminals.” Lin said.

I pouted. “Don’t pout.” Lin told me. “But I want you to come home, I’ll be so lonely without you.” I said. “I know baby but I have work to do. I’ll try to be home soon. I won't be here long.” Lin told me. I just nodded. I don’t wanna lay in bed without her. It’s childish I know but I don’t care.

[miserymerci]

Fluffy February Day 9: Storm - The Gaiwan

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: MK and Sun Wukong (Sunburst duo)

(Mentor-Student, some sick MK, allusions to Wukong’s trauma in Heaven)

No Season 5 spoilers

Summary: Set before S1 E10 (The End is Here!), and then after "Day 7: Some Assembly Required" after the timeskip. MK's hiccups caused earthquakes, his sneezes caused strong gusts of wind, and if he aimed a cough incorrectly into the nook of his elbow, the nearest tree would burn up to a crisp. The turmoil he could see was easy to pinpoint, but the truest tempests manifested deep in the heart and mind. MK wished that he could see into his mentor's storm.

“…and then the cast iron shot through the window, and I think the power circuits must’ve fried because the time on the stove went back a minute– aH –!” Monkey King lifted the small table by its legs and held it up like a shield, “– CHHOOO! Huuhg…”

Monkey King tossed away the newly-split-in-half table.

“That sounds like quite a morning,” he said to his successor, smiling. “From the way you were talking, it sounded like you were shooed off until everything’s fixed.”

MK blinked, considering that.

“No, you’re right. I’m never allowed to help with spring cleaning– I just thought I could’ve helped this once,” he said. He tried to clear his throat casually, but a tiny, traitorous cough rattled the phlegm building in his throat. “But it’ll be fine. I mean, I’ve torn down a wall before. This wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m sure,” said Monkey King.

Monkey King set the broken table aside and took one look at a close-by hoard before his tail freed another table from the pile. The deep red-brown of the wood was hidden by a thick layer of dust (and possibly a small ecosystem of mites). He snapped his tail against the air like a whip, and all of the dust shot off like a shockwave.

“ah–AUG–!” cried MK.

“FACE AWAY FROM THE–!”

MK cupped his nose.

In the next second, Monkey King’s ears popped, went deaf, and then rang back to life.

“I– hugh,” said Monkey King, blinking away the stun. He shook his head. “Wow, okay . You alright, bud?”

MK’s hands slid carefully from his mouth, drawing up to press the heels of his palms into his eyes. He whined pitifully.

Monkey King placed the table down in front of him and settled down onto his knees. “MK?” he tried again.

“I’m not feeling great,” said MK. He rubbed down onto his eyes and then blinked heavily. They squinted, shut, squinted, and then turned to Monkey King again. “What’s that?”

“Tea. It’s supposed to help with all sorts of human pains.”

“How did you get that all so fast?”

Monkey King snorted, but took pity on his protégé, “I got up. I told you I’d be right back.”

Hm. Well, MK didn’t remember that . He winced and rubbed at his temple, but he didn’t accomplish anything more than a worse ache.

MK was more prone to hiccups than anything else. He ate too fast, laughed too hard, and choked on peppers more often than Pigsy would approve (he was always about proper noodle-eating etiquette; not to be confused with fancy Dragon Clan family etiquette). Ultimately, the most dangerous enemy to MK’s immune system was himself. And spring.

“Even cramps?”

Monkey King’s eyes flitted up from the jar of tea leaves, but didn’t do much else.

“Likely, if you want,” he said.

“Oh…”

“Have you eaten?” continued Monkey King, placing a set of cups and a pitcher (that could easily shatter from another one of MK’s sneezes) onto the low table. The leaves in the jar wafted delicate, floral scents over to MK, who decided that the smell was stirring uncomfortable sensations in his head.

“Yeah. Some pancakes,” he said, “but I’m still hungry, I think.”

The truth was that his stomach grumbled at the thought of food. MK wasn’t sure if it was a hungry grumble, a protesting one, or a grumble for the sake of grumbling. (Pancakes were one of MK’s favorite snacks. They were flaky and savory and always had a spicy kick in the ones Pigsy made. The thought made MK’s stomach growl again– maybe he was hungry. But more pancakes didn’t sound very good right now. Maybe something sweet to balance the savory. Like a cake or something– but without any frosting, just the cakey bits– did that sound good?) MK’s stomach rumbled again.

He watched his mentor pour water into the cups, swirl it, and then let it all spill onto the ground. The water lay there uselessly; its every attempt to seep into the mud thwarted by a push and pull that MK couldn’t see. The day was warm.

It had just rained yesterday; heavy, like a true force of nature; so the precipitation had become trapped in the crevices of the cliff. MK had spent most of that day hunched over the serving counter, stalking the clock as far and few customers came in. He had gone straight to bed that night.

So why in the world did he still feel tired?

“Why did you do that?” asked MK.

Monkey King simply raised a brow.

“I mean… with the water. You poured it onto the ground.”

“Err… well, I was just rinsing it out. All water comes back to the ground anyways. I was just speeding up the process,” Monkey King said. He put the leaves into the gaiwan, poured the water into it, and placed the lid on top. “I’m not much of a tea-maker, but I know how to do it. It was one of Master Subodhi’s lessons on the soul.”

“Your first master?” asked MK, perking up.

Monkey King gave him an unimpressed smile and a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Ah– I mean, that’s cool. That’s cool.”

MK turned to look at the gaiwan. It was a pretty, white porcelain rimmed with cyan; some of that bright paint rubbed away by time. Lotus flowers decorated one side of the bowl, but was left blank on the other. Monkey King shifted the lid back, one careful finger pressed into the dip of the lid, and poured the water onto the ground.

“Rinsing again,” he said at MK’s darting pupils, “the leaves this time. That’s how you do it.”

“That’s a lot of rules,” said MK.

“Mmhm,” hummed Monkey King, looking distastefully at the gaiwan as he poured in more water. He fixed the lid and then looked back up at MK. “I’ll go order something. Could you pour the tea into the cups in uhhh… twenty-ish seconds?”

“Uh–”

“Thanks bud.”

And then, with a swish of his cheeky tail, the Monkey King vanished into the house just a few steps from the training grounds (likely for his computer. MK had never seen him with a phone before. Did he have a phone? Like some retro one with the curly wires and the spinny numbers? Or would the legendary Monkey King have a flip phone? Like a Nokia or something. Were Nokias flip phones? MK’s first phone was a flip phone he inherited from Pigsy. Maybe he could dig it up somewhere in his room, and it would be a Nokia. Once, when Mei’s parents had gone through an enterprise phase, they had tried to develop mobile phones. Mei was their beta-tester, and after the phone had overheated on an unbearable summer day and mistaken MK as a burglar, that was the end of that . Maybe lasers weren’t the best self-defense tool on a phone).

…

MK blinked and looked down at the gaiwan.

“…Oh crap!”

MK picked up the lid, watched it slip from his fingers, and went for a mad dive onto the dirt after it, his hip shoving the innocent table as he did.

Everything tumbled to the ground.

‘…CrrsnAP’ went the table leg after it was all over.

“Shut up,” groaned MK.

“Uhh, yeah, you know what? Make it a to-go. Just leave it where it begins to go a little off-road. I’ll know where to find it,” said a voice above MK.

He peeled his face off of his shameful grave and glanced up to where Monkey King was looking down at him, phone snug against his ear.

“You do use a Nokia,” said MK faintly.

Monkey King’s face pinched.

“Yup. Thanks. Bye,” ‘ beep’ .

MK sighed, eyes drifting down as his cheek pressed against the humid ground. Now that he was there, it was beginning to get comfortable. His abdomen, securely pressed onto the warmth of the sun-bathing mud, didn’t even hurt as badly anymore.

After a moment, Monkey King began to move. His footsteps were soft and careful as they went around MK and stopped to assess the damage from the other side. Then, either with his tail or hands, he righted the table (albeit missing a leg), which croaked along. MK finally lifted his head up at the sound of tinkling ceramic.

“Is it broken?”

“Not anymore,” said Monkey King.

The quaint little gaiwan clinked pleasantly against the table as Monkey King set it down. Not a single crack, scratch, or blemish remained– not even the smudging of the paint that hadn’t even been MK’s fault. The cyan paint streaked along the edges like an endless sky; a sky that, in MK’s opinion, felt unnervingly fake.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” said MK. He carefully got up to his knees, the mud coming with him as he went. The comfort MK had before in his defeat had worn off. Now, the mud was only a grimy shell on his skin.

“It’s okay to have an off-day,” said Monkey King, distantly. His somber expression, though something MK had drawn countless times in his sketchbook, looked wrong on the real thing. He sighed and then smiled, “It’s why we’re sitting here having tea.”

MK winced and looked at the puddle of tea being consumed up by the mud. Monkey King quickly knelt down at the table to distract him.

“That’s okay, bud. We’ll just make more, okay? No shortage of tea leaves any time soon.”

So Monkey King, eyeing the gaiwan more than he was looking at MK, eventually succeeded in brewing a cup of tea. MK had the first sip (he learned that it was oolong tea. It was fresh and slightly sweet in the way roses are to the nose, going down MK’s throat like the purest of water) and then he watched his mentor take a sip with not nearly as much vigor.

The cyan of the gaiwan, in the corner of MK’s eye, phased into teal to cerulean to turquoise as the afternoon went on. His headache could have been making him see things, but he dared not to mention it anyways.

On that day, the gaiwan was in one perfect piece; not quite a balance, but some strange mix between duty and acceptance.

MK was by no means the norm.

He wouldn’t call himself a completely law-abiding citizen (he got into fights often (with demons) and sometimes drove airships without a license (not like that mattered, but there was probably a law for that somewhere)), but the complications that came with it wasn’t something MK could explain.

Teas that are brewed differently taste differently, even if they share the same leaves.

The gaiwan was never something Pigsy had taught him how to use. Pigsy never brewed tea often, and defaulted to an open cup when the situation arised. MK drank oolong tea a number of times in his life.

The taste of oolong was clear, but never airy; sweet, but like how cane sugar is to coffee. Sometimes it was fruity. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“You okay, bud?” asked Wukong.

MK blinked and looked up at Wukong, who was loitering around the mouth of the waterfall, favoring one foot over the other, but looking otherwise better than he’s looked in the past few weeks. The water rumbled on and on. It sprayed him and his mentor and left specks of rainbows in its wake.

“Yeah,” said MK, “just trying to figure out how to use this.”

The gaiwan looked as perfect as the day Monkey King fixed it. MK, in his curiosity, had taken the time during Wukong’s recovery to return to the training grounds in search of it; the nostalgic, little place just on the side of Flower Fruit Mountain. The house, half-crumbled from the battle, had taken him all day to sift through. The gaiwan trapped underneath it shone and winked in the setting sun like it had found the whole thing amusing.

Maybe it had been broken, but MK hadn’t been there to see it. Maybe some kind of friendship magic brought it back together. Maybe it was something completely out of their control, unexplainable and unblameable. Whatever the case, MK tucked tea leaves into the bowl now and experimentally put the lid on for it to brew.

Wukong neared, spooked-like but curious, his tail twitching as he eyed what MK was doing. Maybe he had missed a step or used the wrong technique or something, but Wukong didn’t say anything.

MK’s muscles felt worn; like they hadn’t completely woven back together. Now that he wasn’t worried out of his mind about his lack of company after Azure’s defeat, his body was quick to remind him of its current state: completely and utterly sore and unrested (The monkeys of Flower Fruit had been very cross with him. That was how he ended up in a dead sleep for almost half the day).

“You said some time ago that Master Subodhi brewed tea as a lesson for the soul,” said MK.

“It was more complicated than that.”

Wukong unstuck himself from his spot and crossed his arms, looking down at MK’s little setup. It seemed for a moment that he wouldn’t continue, but then he took a breath, and MK easily recognized it as one preparing to carry heavy words.

“It was more about the gaiwan than the tea; and not really about the soul, but about… well, where oneself stands, I guess. I thought it was a boring lesson– I mean, it wasn’t any of the cool stuff that I had wanted to learn at the time– but I remember it was brought up again when I was a stableboy in Heaven. Some fancy shtick, maybe a party, was going on, and they favored the gaiwan for their tea making,” Wukong sucked air between his teeth as he thought over his words, “It was– hm . Well, I was just about done with lessons. I mean, I spent all that time with Master Subodhi and then blam I’m in Heaven and I still feel like I’m in school? Yeah, okay.”

The waterfall casted a cooling mist around its base that MK suddenly found it difficult to breathe in. He swallowed at his mentor’s downcast expression and sent his tail to snap the building mist into the other direction.

Wukong looked up at him. He leaned one way to catch a glimpse of MK’s surprise appendage, but it had already gone away.

“That’s new,” said Wukong, gently, “where’d you learn that?”

MK pursed his lips, poured the tea into his cup, and then said, “Myself. Was an accident, actually. Couldn’t get it to go away and wrecked my room before I figured it out. Um… what did you do?”

“What?”

“In the story? During the party. Did you… do something to the gaiwan?”

Wukong scoffed lightly and shook his head.

“No, nothing like that. It's just… Something about it, like it couldn’t help but exist, I guess? ‘Hold the gaiwan like this, Wukong. Handle the lid with care, Wukong. You haven’t covered it properly, Wukong.’ There was always something that bothered me, thinking about it– but I’ve never broken a gaiwan before.”

“Because you’ve always cared about it?” asked MK.

“…No,” drawled Wukong.

MK stared down at the oolong swirling in his cup. It was a warm, sweet orange: like caramel glazed over flan. He ran one finger on its rim, found that it was chipped somewhere, and raised the cup to his lips.

Wukong sniffled the same time MK’s face pinched painfully.

The oolong was watered-down and acrid in his mouth, attacking his taste buds there and then moving its unpleasant attack down his throat. It was like the tingle of cough medicine– lacking its syrupy texture, but intrusive all the same.

“Did you know I was gonna do that?” gagged MK, shaking his head at the bitter, watery mess stinging his tongue. When his mentor didn’t reply, he tilted to look more closely at him, “Monkey King? Did I do something wrong?”

“ No ,” said Wukong, almost immediately.

MK flinched. His hold on his cup, lax and careful at first, tensed until it was pressed into his chest. He looked up at his mentor and then back down to his failed brew.

Wukong, who had found himself standing over the table defensively, slipped down to his knees.

“Oh– sorry… about that,” he cleared his throat and leaned back onto his hands. “I meant that you didn’t do it properly, so… yes . The first brew is just a rinse, remember? It won’t taste as good. Let’s try again.”

MK nodded, taking the gaiwan and emptying the water into a spare bowl he had dug up from Pigsy’s cupboard. He shook it for good measure (he got a slightly worried look at that) and then plopped off the lid to replace the water.

Wukong was beginning to relax now. He dared to rest his head on his palm, following MK’s movements so intensely that he was beginning to get stage fright. Then, before MK could crumble under the pressure, Wukong said, “Brewing tea is a skill. It doesn’t matter if you don’t get it right. Sometimes, getting it wrong is better.”

With an innocent blink, Mk replied, “Do you really think that?”

The monkeys of Flower Fruit ruffled the leaves of trees around them. If MK listened close enough, he could hear every chirp and coo and squeak between the residents. Monkeys loved to be mischievous– not through any ill-being, but because they were clever enough to recognize things that even he took some time figuring out.

MK was mischievous. MK cared about Wukong.

Carefully, he picked up the gaiwan and pressed his finger improperly onto the dip in the lid as he poured. The lid trembled. Maybe, if it had a mouth, it wouldn’t use it for speaking; maybe, if it did, it would only use it to snarl and sneer and smile with all its teeth. Maybe MK would have bowed down to its authority and taken everything to heart as if it were a world and not just a step on a staircase. MK tripped on air often; not by his own fault, but only to bend to the unpredictability of ground and man.

The tea spilled into Wukong’s cup. The lid, in his recklessness, tumbled behind it. Wukong leaned out to catch it. It bounced, twisted, and spun in his hands, like a little cloud that split despite all efforts. Helpfully, MK sprang up to help him.

MK caught the lid on one side the moment Wukong caught the other.

“Well, would you look at that?” laughed MK, about to say something about his impeccable reflexes– and then the lid cracked and split through the middle.

“Ah…?”

“Ooh...”

“What even…?”

“ Snrk ,” Wukong’s head snapped up in surprise, watching MK break into a fit of laughter, “PHhh– ahahah ! I didn’t even know that could happen ! Pigsy calls me clumsy, but I think this might have been the weirdest one by far. Um… maybe it was already beginning to crack?”

“I…” stammered Wukong. “I… don’t think…?”

MK pulled close his half of the lid. He tossed and turned it in his hand and peeked sheepishly at his mentor.

“I think we might be able to fix it,” he said, puzzling back his piece to Wukong’s, who had left his hand out hovering in what was probably shock. “With tape, maybe? Glue?” he tilted his head with a smile, “magic?”

Wukong’s face suddenly felt warm in embarrassment, as if something was going on that he wasn’t quite aware of, and he had just-so-happened to be the main attraction of the whole thing. He blinked once, then twice, and then brought his hand down to really look at the lid.

It was strange to hold it like this. The ceramic where it had cracked was crumbly as he ran his thumb over it. The open wound did not bleed; there was no crying or great summoning of mountains or curses or golden fillets. Wukong blew lightly and watched a puff of dusty white gaiwan pieces get lost in the waterfall’s light mist.

“No, it’s okay,” said Wukong, putting it down on the table and cradling his full cup with both hands. He looked down at the warm tea and took a tentative sip. Something like honey swished in his mouth, punchy and passionate like the first fruits of the summer season. He swallowed, smacked his lips, and then passed it over to MK to share with a smile. “It’s a little unnecessary anyway.”