#listen to it y'all won't regret it

[indynerdgirl]

A playlist inspired by @anniesocsandgeneralstore 's absolutely incredible werewolf Top Gun AU the echo (or the answer) 🐺🌕🌲

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!

[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]

-> <-

“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”

You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.

Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.

With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.

Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.

Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.

All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.

You wish you could tell them.

And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.

Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.

You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?

“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.

“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.

Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!

You warm at the memory.

Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.

“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”

By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.

Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.

Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.

Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.

You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.

Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.

Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.

Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.

Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.

“Indie!” Dustin shouts.

The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.

You panic.

Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.

You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.

Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.

Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.

Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.

Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.

Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.

Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.

Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.

Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.

You haven't.

Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.

The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.

“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”

“Indie is a really nice girl-,”

“I’m not worried about Indie.”

Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.

“I’m going to go home, Robin.”

“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”

“Yeah,” you say thinly.

Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”

“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”

-> <-

When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.

Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.

You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.

Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.

Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.

For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.

Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.

You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.

“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”

You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.

“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.

Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”

Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”

“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”

You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.

The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.

“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”

So, you solve for E.

You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-

Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.

You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.

Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.

You throw down your pencil in frustration.

Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.

That’s when Eddie moves.

“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.

He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.

Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.

What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.

So, where have you been?

You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.

You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.

Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.

That terrifies him.

“Hi,” your voice melts him.

Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”

“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Yeah, good.”

You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”

“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”

“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”

Okay, truth time.

“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”

Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.

“Who's comparing you to a boy?”

He had to be sure.

“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”

Confirmed.

“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”

“Wait, who’s the guy?”

You hum. “What?”

“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”

“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”

He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who���s correcting you?”

“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”

You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.

“Thank you.”

“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.

“What?”

“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”

“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”

Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.

“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”

“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.

Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,

“It’s not me is it?”

Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.

“It is me.”

Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.

This is it.

The moment you’ll lose him for good.

You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”

Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,

“Uh. . . right, sorry.”

Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.

Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.

Oh, and now to let you down.

Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.

Okay, he’s getting distracted.

You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.

Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.

Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?

Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.

Eddie rubs his eye.

Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.

He doesn’t like you like that.

Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?

No, Eddie it does not.

Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!

None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?

In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.

Only once.

There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.

After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.

Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.

Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.

Eddie will never want the night to end.

“Munson!”

Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.

The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.

“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”

No, Eddie does not.

In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.

Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.

But, you’ve already gone.

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[urfriendlywriter]

gestures between friends to strangers turning into lovers :)

(feel free to use <3 can yall plsplsplssss tag when u write these, im such a suckerrr (requested by @sc3ne-l1v3s !) )

"oh wow- *practically fumbling to find words* you look.. grown." then immediately regretting talking ever .

walking into a café, secretly hoping they're there. and THEY ARE . better, if they're waiting FOR YOU.

"didn't you like this song before?" "you remembered." ✧｡✰*♡

forced to work together and there's vivid tension all around you both

cramped in an elevator and they shield you. DAMN IT

^ "a-are you comfortable?" " *exhales, vividly turning red and avoiding their gaze* yea-yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

they do a little extra when it's for you. a very small gesture, but speaks loud

knowing much about the other, so you don't have to say a word when you're down, they just know it and they acknowledge it. (RISE YOUR STANDARDS YALL)

always bickering.

bickering as fun and they inch closer to you. eyes flickering down to those lips.

TENSION. and avoiding to acknowledge it. JUST BECAUSE.

"were you thinking about me?" "huh-" "because i can't seem to stop thinking about you."

gasping when they pull you closer to dance with them.

^ "god, I've always wanted to do this with you."

at that stage were y'all are whipped. simping for each other, but. BUT DENYING IT. BECAUSE YOU'RE AFRAID THEY'LL BECOME A STRANGER IN YOUR LIFE AGAIN.

listening to them talk about how they've been, while you realise, you are indeed in love with them.

"i can't be around you." "Why?" ".. you know why. you just fail to accept it. recognize it."

"i admit. I've had feelings for you ever since you forced me into becoming your best friend in third grade-" "Fourth grade, you mean. AND- WHY. DIDNT U TELL ME??"

"i can't leave. I've found my home in you, i won't leave."

[lilmashae]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ "say it back, sweetheart." — e.y

cw: modern!au, fratboy!au, eren x reader, fem!reader, poc!reader, jealous!eren, public-ish sex, fingering, no real sex, kind of a "fwb" situation, mean-dom!eren ?, smut (so 18+)

a/n: i was gonna write full on pnv smut but it was getting LONGGG like i mean this shit was stretchin...so pls do w ts what u will...

frat-boy!eren fucking the absolute shit out of your throat 'cause he caught you dancing on jean and "flirting" with connie.

"please, eren." you begged looking up at him, "please, i promise you're the only one--you're the only one i'm fucking."

you and eren weren't "together", y'all werent "exclusive" either. so you didn't think it'd be a problem when you showed up to his house-party in your little white dress: your sheer, short, tight, skimpy little white dress that rode up your thighs as you pranced around the party drinking and shaking your ass. 

everyone knew you and eren were having casual sex. you knew that everyone knew, and neither of you cared. what you didn't know was that eren had been calling you "his" behind your back. and that is what pissed you off.

so, what better way to get back at him than throwing your ass all on jean? bending over, arching your back, and grinding into him: all as eren watched from the corner with an amused look on his face. and if that wasn't enough to make him regret calling you "his", you sitting perched up on connie's lap, letting his hands trace and squeeze on your thighs, was. 

"what the fuck are you doing, y/n?"

your phone buzzed from the pocket of your jacket as you dug into it, reading the message on your screen. getting up you glanced at connie, "i'll be back, baby." he nodded, releasing you from his arms, now holding onto your hands, "be quick, yeah?" you laugh cupping his cheek while staring down at him. "i will." you lie, excusing yourself from the group on your way to "refill your drink". instead you find eren: leaning tall against a wall. "so?" he says, "what are you tryin' to do? 'cause it ain't working." it's obvious he's lying. it is, working: he stands with his arms crossed, eyes darkened, sucking on his teeth as he scoffs, "you not goin' to talk, or what?"

"so that's how this is... y/n you know better than anyone, i can make you talk--and you know what, i think i will."

you were ready to give him an earful, "who the fuck do you think you are? going around telling all these motherfuckers that i'm yours?" is what you were going to say. "well, i think--" and before you could even start, eren had grabbed your wrist and dragged you upstairs. you remained silent as he roughly sat you on his bed, grabbing your face, forcing you to stare into his green eyes. "tell me what you were tryin' to do, and maybe i'll fuck you like a good girl, how's that sound?"

you knew no-one could fuck you like eren could: no one had ever, fucked you like him. there was no-one who could split you open and hit every single nerve or rile you up like him. no man who could find that soft, spongy spot and abuse it like eren could. but still. you were pissed, and you wouldn't dare listen to him right now.

"how about you mind your fucking business, eren! you're so full of shit, why're you going around claiming me as yours, huh? and why i got to find out from somebody else that that's how you feel?" he rolled his eyes, loosening his grasp on your face. "it's true, though. isn't it? you are mine, you're always screaming my name while i--" you cut him off, "that's different, and you know it."

that was the "conversation" you two had before he had you on your knees teasing his tip against your pillowy lips. "since you won't talk, i'll put your mouth to better use."

"please, eren." you begged looking up at him, "please, i promise you're the only one--you're the only one i'm fucking." eren mocked you, "you're sorry, sweetheart? hm?" he had positioned his knee between yours, still grinding against your heat. you feverishly nod your head, frantically begging for him to do something: do more. "so sorry. so, so sorry--" you were ranting before he took his tip, smearing pre-cum onto your lips as he slid fully into your mouth. "goin' to fuck your pretty, little mouth full, okay? and if you do good," he paused, smirking " i think i'll fuck you."

you could feel his pre-cum trickling down your throat as he slid his dick in-and-out of your mouth. eren forcefully grabbed the back of your neck snapping his hips into your face yet again. your mind had gone blank, feeling his knee firmly press into your clothed clit. it was driving you insane, overstimulated from his cock dripping, filling your throat so good and also from the friction rubbing at your core. with each thrust you grew more and more impatient and needy, just wishing he'd split you open already. eren knew it, he could see the desire in your eyes as he continued fucking your throat as you eagerly waited for him to cum. "shit--" he gasped over the wet and lewd noises that filled the room, "i'm close, sweetheart. promise." he continued slamming himself into your mouth at a steady, rhythmic pace, your lips becoming puffy and wet as you drooled onto his cock nodding again. "you just got to do one thing f'me first, 'kay?" anything! i'll do anything: is what you would say if your mouth wasn't lined with his dick. the bucking of hips began to slow down as he pulled out of your mouth, once again stroking your tongue with his head.

eren began getting up off the bed, keeping you sat there as he dove into your lips to passionately kiss you. "you have to say that you're mine," he whispers against your lips, smirking. the one thing you didn't want to admit, was the same thing that'd earn you some of the best sex of your college career. "you're mine." he dives back into your lips, nipping at the bottom one, "say it back, sweetheart." hesitantly, you follow his movements before whispering softly you sigh, "i'm yours, eren." the two of you latch onto each other's lips desperately chasing some sort of high. he takes his palm grinding it into your clit as his slender fingers loop under your panties guiding them close to your tight-hole. prodding and teasing at your entrance he let one finger slowly sink into your gummy walls. you let out a soft moan, lightly biting at his lips. he sunk in another finger and then another, the squelching sounds of your arousal echoing off your surroundings. he began vigorously pressing his fingers deeper and deeper inside of you.

finally, he ended up hitting that same soft spot, causing you to cum all on his fingers. "you're mine, right?" he glares down at you. softly laughing you look up at him deadpan, "boy, you wish."

i'm working on some more smut for yall... send requests if you have any or js wanna talk! extra for yall who were expecting more, bcs ily sm 🫶🏽

"hurry up, eren." you whined seeing his cock twitch as he continued to finger you. "mhh," he slowed down, "don't rush me, y/n."

he has slid into you easily. you cry feeling the stretch his cock provides. "you're still--so tight baby." he scoffs before wildly slamming into you. "wonder how many times i'll have to fuck you before you finally--" he groans into the air, sharply exhaling, "finally loosen up." he finishes, landing a firm slap on your ass watching the recoil. "mpf! eren, fuck.."

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

could've been [i.engen x reader]

prompt: after all the regret, ingrid finally changes. too bad you aren't there to see it.

author notes: this is my sorry for making ingrid so toxic in part one, i swear she is ten times better in this one. hope y'all enjoy itt! look at the bottom of the fic for another surprise.

warnings: angst but not in a (part one) way, lots of mentions of regret, ingrid gets help finally, rejection, and more 🤗

part one: nights like this part three: good days

PLEASE, ALLOW ME TO SHOW

YOU SOMETHING

MM, SOMEBODY GIVE ME, YEAH

SOMEBODY GIVE ME, UH

SOMEBODY TELL ME THE ANSWERS

ME AND YOU ISN'T THE ANSWER (UH)

ME AND YOU ISN'T (NO)

MAYBE I'M TELLIN' MYSELF THAT

BUT THERE AIN'T NOTHIN' THAT'LL

CHANGE THAT

WHAT GOOD WOULD IT BE IF I KNEW

HOW YOU FELT ABOUT ME? (YEAH)

healing, change, forgiveness takes time. especially when one is trying to forgive themselves for their actions.

ingrid's therapist told her this in her most recent appointment when she broke down; her tears and words trying to express the guilt that still hangs heavy in her heart. the way she sobs almost makes it seem like she's the victim in the situation. that she was the one played with and cursed at and left to overthink. ingrid knows this. she knows how fucked up it looks to cry after being the one to do all the hurting, but her therapist reminded her that this is one step on the road to being better. those genuine tears of guilt shows remorse. now actions and effort needs to be put behind them so that those tears aren't put to waste.

when the norwegian whispers out, "what if i have done this sooner? do you think she would have left?" her therapist just gives her a small shake of the head before explaining that the past is the past.

"y/n is not the answer to all your problems. she's not the solution, you are. she may have been your first motivation, but now it's time for yourself to be the motivation. you are doing this for the betterment of you," the woman who goes by the name ms. alcaraz says. the way one of her legs are crossed over the other reminds ingrid of how you use to sit whenever listening to ingrid's rambles about her favorite show. y'all's favorite show. she always found it a little funny how many thoughts and items and mannerisms led back to you in her mind.

ms. alcaraz snaps her fingers to get ingrid out of her head. another thing the norwegian needs to work on; less focusing on the past and more looking at the future. "understand? enough dwelling on how you treated her and more working on the problems that led you to those actions," the therapist says as ingrid nods. that makes complete sense even if almost makes her heart snap in half. all she wants to do is remember and dwell and regret over and over again until she runs herself ragged.

the rest of the session is spent figuring out ways for ingrid to finally stop focusing all her on energy on the non-existent forgiveness she wanted from you and how she can finally start to forgive herself. ms. alcaraz proposes for her to write a letter to you. an actual physical letter. not a text from her fake page or an call from a text now number, a physical letter that ingrid would be forbidden to send. the norwegian wants to tell ms. alcaraz no. that this won't help anything. that it will actually make things worst and how she just couldn't do that but then she remembered how many times "couldn't do it" slipped out of her mouth when she talked to you. how badly that impacted your relationship. the fear that was vocal in those words always annoyed you; and ingrid knew this every single time. she just couldn't bring herself to push past that fear and do it. so no, this time around she can do it. will do it. if not for her then for you. even if you won't ever see it and it will just be laying on her desk for days to come, she had to do this.

you deserve an apology, some type of effort even if the only thing left of you in barcelona is just memories.

all ingrid thought about after leaving the session was what to say. what words could express how deeply she regrets everything and how wrong she was? god she just didn't know.

it has been three months since ingrid made the choice to go to therapy and do something about all her issues. for such a long time after you left all ingrid did was cry herself to sleep on her couch every night and then act completely fine all day in front of her "boyfriend" and everyone else. it took one month in therapy for her to break things off with him; her therapist explained to her how leading him on into believing their relationship was worth anything was wrong and will only lead to pain. not just for him, but for her too since being with someone she didn't love wasn't good for her mental health.

it was month two when she finally sat and accepted that she was a lesbian. "i'm a lesbian and i don't understand what that means for me? i can't... i don't know how to.." ingrid said one day at a session as she picked at the skin near her nails. the appointment was actually supposed to be focused on ingrid's fear of being judged and her fear of people's opinions but her vocally proclaiming that she is infact a lesbian led to a different direction for that day. the first direction was worked on in the next appointment with it being a perfect follow up to helping ingrid with her identity crisis.

month three's word of the month was fear. ingrid hated month three. every single last session was focused on what she fears, why she fears it, and how to overcome that fear. she hated it so badly just because the ingrained reaction to fear in her mind is to run. to shut down and isolate or to lash out and explode. there was never a in-between, but now it had to be. that's what she needed if she ever wanted to get better. that's what she needed to make sure all her regret didn't go to waste.

back to that dreadful letter. ingrid went straight to her desk when she reached her apartment. looking around her bedroom for some paper and pen so she could write down the apology she has been wanting to say to you for ages. ingrid finds a paper and a pen in mere minutes, but as she sits down at her desk she stalls for a moment.

is this even worth it? what if this makes everything worse? what if she spirals and can't even figure out what to say? too many what ifs. too much uncertainty. ingrid hated this. she hated that she couldn't just do it. what is her fucking problem?

tears well up in her eyes as she looks at the blank page. her mind was nothing like it. her mind is messy and full and feels like it's going to slip out of her brain onto the floor.

this won't help.

this won't change anything.

this can't change the past.

ingrid won't change, she can't, she's unable to. she's going to be stuck being a horrible person who can't do anything right. someone who fucks up everything in their life. a failure. no wonder you left; she was a fucking mess.

the norwegian doesn't even notice how her tears are now dripping onto the paper. no, no, no. she has to stop. she can't, won't, refuses to give up. if not for herself than at least for you.

do this for you, ingrid. letting your panic blur your vision won't lead to anything good. breathe, just breathe. let it go.

just write and say whatever is what ingrid mentally says to herself as she picks up the pen and starts writing. her fingers are so shaky that the letters on the page are hardly readable, but the emotions are there. the regret, the sorrow, the pain.

ingrid's so sorry.

and she had to make sure you knew that; in spirit. not in actuality.

so she writes and writes and writes until her fingers feel numb.

dear y/n,

i don't know how to start this off or even what to say. you will never see this, but i want it to be perfect. i ruined everything because i was just so afraid. i was scared to find out how people would react if they knew about us and instead of telling you more about my thoughts, i pushed you away. not just pushed you away, i exploded and treated you like shit to make sure you didn't to be near me. at first when i first started to act out i thought you would leave, but you didn't. why didn't you leave? i will never understand it. i'm so grateful you didn't because the moments when i wasn't being a horrible girlfriend, yes i can freely say that we were together now, were the best moments of my life in all honesty. you didn't give up on us, i did. i'm the one who kept running away. who kept using others to make it seem like our relationship was nothing important. you should have left and taught me lesson. well i guess you finally did, but that was after i put you though months of emotional pain. i was an awful girlfriend who let my own personal issues ruin everything and i ruined you. i know i did. and i'm so sorry. i love you, y/n. i love you so much and i don't know how i will ever move on.

IT COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT, BUT

I WAS WRONG (UH)

ONLY THINK 'BOUT YOU WHEN

I'M ALONE (YEAH)

THE PART OF ME THAT CARED IS

ALMOST GONE

AND I KNOW THAT I CAN'T GET CAUGHT UP

WE COULD'VE BEEN

AND WE TRY TO PRETEND

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN

WE DON'T DREAM ABOUT, DON'T

THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN

THOUGH I'M HOLDING IT IN

'CAUSE I KNOW IN THE END

YOU DREAM ABOUT, I THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN

WE COULD'VE BEEN (DAMN)

WE COULD'VE (DAMN)

when you first left you were the only thing filling up ingrid's thoughts. from the moment she woke up, while getting ready for the day, at practice, on the way back home from practice, at matches, during press conferences, every single moment that she was awake she thought about you.

however after the first few months of therapy, slowly but surely you started to slip her thoughts. she started to get back into her hobbies and became more focused at games. you were slowly becoming a memory for her; that didn't mean the regret and pain wasn't still there. those emotions will always hang in the back of her mind even when she moves on. to the day ingrid is on her deathbed, the bullshit she pulled on you will always stay there; that pain will be taken to the grave.

ms. alcaraz has helped her learn how to live on with those emotions. instead of shutting down whenever ingrid felt like everything was too much she would write or meditate or do yoga. anything to clear her mind.

but there's nights where all the norwegian can do is lay in bed. scrolling down on your instagram. even looking at content posted by the san diego wave social media just to get a glimpse of you. when she saw how you and that mystery brunette has already moved in with eachother she wanted to scream. all of those hours of therapy helped her, they really have, but still the immense urge to just explode rests on her chest.

the urge to just blow up your phone with a text now number. the violent urge to just text you on instagram over and over again until you either answer or block her fake page. the burning urge to leave very specific hate comments under your posts about only things she would know shimmers inside of her. however those urges are never answered.

ingrid has changed. she isn't her past self and she can finally feel proud about it. however still she couldn't block your instagram. her scrolling time has gone down from the entire night to just two hours with the help of therapy, but two hours is two hours too much. ingrid knows this.

she still wants some type of connection to you even if it's just a one way street. she can't help it, so for now she will scroll until she either feels satisfied or like she wants to pull out her hair.

after all that the norwegian wonders to herself what went wrong between you two; she already knows that answer. it was her. it was all her fault, but still it's fun to wonder how it would have been if you two had stayed together. if ingrid wasn't scared out of her mind of public scunity. god she hates the what if's that cloud her mind after seeing you happy with your new girlfriend for the ninth time that week.

sometimes, even though her therapist warned her that it could slow down the work ingrid has been doing on herself, ingrid thinks about a different reality. where you and her had an actual happy relationship that was public. you two would be loved by the public. living a great life together and when you two retire y'all would decide to adopt a little girl. the norwegian is unsure of what name you two would have picked out, but it would be gorgeous just like you. that faraway dream always ends with you two living out the rest of y'all's retired days in norway in a quiet neighborhood.

what she would do for that to be true is something she doesn't want to think about. ingrid still hates herself sometimes for what happened, but slowly you are leaving her life fully; and surprisingly she's not even sad about it. actually she welcomes it. those months of therapy are working their magic on her.

REMEMBER?

REMEMBER THE NIGHT IN MIAMI?

FIRST TIME YOU PUT YOUR ARMS

AROUND ME

I'M UP REMINISCIN' (OOH, YEAH)

AND THINKING 'BOUT YOU ISN'T HELPING

THINKING 'BOUT YOU DOESN'T TELL ME

WHAT GOOD WOULD IT DO IF I

DECIDE TO FACE THE TRUTH

IT COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT, BUT I WAS WRONG

ONLY THINK 'BOUT YOU WHEN I'M ALONE

YOU ONLY HIT ME UP WHEN SHE'S NOT HOME

AND THAT'S WHY I CAN'T GET CAUGHT UP

WE COULD'VE BEEN

AND WE TRY TO PRETEND

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN

WE DON'T DREAM ABOUT, DON'T

THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN (OH YEAH)

THOUGH I'M HOLDING IT IN

'CAUSE I KNOW IN THE END

YOU DREAM ABOUT, I THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE, WE COULD'VE BEEN

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN, WE COULD'VE BEEN

ingrid doesn't know when, but sometime after she hit the sixth month of therapy she started to move on from you. something she never thought she would be doing, but she also didn't think you would ever leave either or that she would be in therapy these days so ingrid got used to the surprises that invaded her life.

slowly her heart started to wander towards someone else. a certain tattooed spaniard whose smile sends shivers down her spine; mapi.

ingrid doesn't know when the lines between friendship and love started to blur with mapi, but they did. the spainard was someone she went to when everything got too overwhelming and her therapist's hours were closed. clinging to mapi's waist as her head rests on the defender chest. "sometimes i just feel so stuck you know.. like all my progress wasn't worth it," the norwegian mumbles. mapi's hands rub soft circles on her lower back as she listens. taking in every word ingrid says. "you're never stuck, life always has to move on. just try your best every time, ingrid" she says softly. that's how it always was when mapi comforted ingrid and frankly, the norwegian loves it.

their friendship wasn't always that close. back when you left, ingrid had isolated herself socially. she would go to outings with the team and her little cover-up boyfriend, but she wasn't talking as much as she usually was or drinking or just being her usual self. then after the third month of therapy ms. alcaraz helped her understand that isolation doesn't help anything and that she needs a support system, so ingrid started to go back into being more social. it really did help along with all the therapy she was doing.

then she just started to gravitate towards mapi. it was something alluring and fun about the defender. and it was the same for mapi. she thought ingrid was gorgeous since the first day they met, but never got a chance to get close to her. with ingrid's attention on her, mapi finally found the opportunity to become friends. maybe even more.

only a few weeks of this closeness and it bled into something more. ingrid would be scared of how fast things are going usually, this is how you two's mess of a relationship started, but her therapist has told her to welcome new things. not to run away from the things she wants anymore.

she wants mapi.

ingrid refused to let this new situation stay the way it is. she wanted a relationship, not a messy situationship. since she was the problem in you two's relationship, ingrid decided to be the one to start off on the right foot in this new one.

"can i take you out?" the norwegian asks one day while mapi was cooking some dinner in ingrid's apartment while wearing her pajamas; yeah this had to become something official sooner rather than later. they're already in too deep.

mapi gives her a quick glance over her shoulder, a small smirk on her lips. she just shrugs as she goes back to cooking. "i would love that," mapi says. bringing the freshly cooked food still in the pan over to the table. "i have plates you know" ingrid says playfully as she smiles. mapi rolls her eyes playfully as she turns back to the counter to grab two forks from the drawer. "we don't need them, chica" the spaniard chuckles as she sits down at the table. scooting her chair closer to ingrid's until their legs touch.

the warmth of the first bite was just like the warmth ingrid has been on the receiving end of. mapi is warm like the sun; an overwhelming presence that fills any room it steps in. mapi is ingrid's star and hopefully her only star for the rest of their lives.

the week after is when they decide to go out. it's on a sunday which has officially become their day since the two footballers always hang out on that day especially. spending the whole day together while doing mundane things. however this one was extra special, because they were going out instead of staying in.

ingrid stands in front of the floor length mirror in her living room. checking out the blue silk dress she decided to wear with black heels to match. is too formal? ingrid thinks to herself. she isn't able to dwell more on the topic as a knock at the door interrupts her thoughts.

mapi.

a smile already reaches the norwegian's face as she walks over to her front door. opening it to see a nicely dressed mapi. the spainard put on a black dress, similar to ingrid's. "didn't think we would be matching, bonita," mapi chuckles as she takes in ingrid's look. she looks gorgeous. mapi gets a bit distracting as she checks out ingrid before looking back at the woman's face. "huh? sorry. you're just too beautiful right now," mapi smiles.

"oh? more than usual?" ingrid jokes as she gestures for mapi to come inside. closing the door behind them before walking over to her couch to grab her jacket and purse. "hm of course not. you always look amazing. i just couldn't stop my eyes from wandering, that's all," mapi says as she leans against the door. smiling once ingrid turns back around and smiles back at her.

"let's go, bonita" the spainard says as she grabs ingrid's hand. interlocking it with hers. then they leave out of the door. a burst of giggles leaving them both as ingrid almost trips over her heels.

the rest of the night is full of happiness like that. the two footballers go out for dinner firstly then some ice cream for dessert and a small walk around the streets to end it off.

ingrid smiles at mapi as they stand in front of mapi's car. their date is sadly coming to an end and spending the night together wasn't in the question; can't go too fast. "can i kiss you?" mapi says softly as their hands interlock, swinging slightly. "i don't know, can you, maria?" mapi just laughs at ingrid's words before pulling her into a short kiss.

after savoring the moment, the two pull away from each other. shy smiles sitting on both of their lips. ingrid pecks mapi's cheek before letting go of her hand and running off to go inside her apartment building. mapi just chuckles as she watches ingrid run into the building.

ingrid's still smiling once she gets inside of her apartment. she couldn't believe how well the date went. those fears of possibly fucking up another relationship fade away as she changes out of her dress. kicking off her heels that been hurting her feet since they had ice cream.

as she slips into the shower, darker emotions cloud her mind. why does she suddenly feel guilty? those burning feelings of regret claw at her conscience as the hot water hits her body.

does she deserve to move on? after all the hurt she caused you, did she deserve to be happy with someone else?

the norwegian thinks back on you two's first unofficial date. with you both being too shy to call it an actual date; just calling it a simple hangout. it was a festival happening around this time in barcelona so of course you had to bring ingrid out there. that night was full of laughter and fun with it ending with a sweet kiss done near the beach. ingrid sometimes wonder what would have happened if she would have just asked you to be her girlfriend right after that moment. if she would have let your situation turn into an actual relationship. if she would had gone public with you on her social media months into the situationship like she did with that cover-up. would things be different? would you have been here right now and this night of fun of mapi would have never existed? for some reason ingrid frowns just thinking about that possibility.

in the past, all she wanted was to go back and fix everything so you two could be together in the present. however, now after her date with mapi she didn't want that. would it really have been better? the teenage puppy love feelings that were coursing through her isn't the same as the feelings she felt with you. the fear of being known tainted whatever love that was between you two.

it doesn't matter anymore. let it go. ingrid thinks to herself as she shuts off the water before stepping out of the shower. she looks at herself in the mirror as she dries her hair. she's done. ingrid realizes she has finally done it.

she has fallen out of love with you. out of love with constantly feeling the regret and guilt. ingrid is over you and ready to move onto more things in her life. ones that don't involve overthinking constantly about what she's done to you.

ingrid has forgiven herself.

that was the night ingrid blocked your instagram and deleted your number.

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN, YEAH

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN

AYY

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN

WHAT WE SHOULD'VE BEEN

IF I WASN'T, IF I WASN'T WITH SOMEBODY

IF YOU GOTTA HIDE IT, WHAT'S

THE POINT OF TRYING?

I AIN'T JUST YOUR FRIEND, NO, WHAT'S

THE POINT OF LYING?

TRYA SELL A STORY AIN'T NOBODY BUYIN'

LOOK ME IN MY EYES, DON'T THAT FEEL NICE?

WHY SHOULD IT END? BABY I COULD'VE BEEN

I COULD'VE BEEN HIM, MORE

THAN YOUR FRIEND

JUST SAY WHERE AND WHEN, WHERE

TO MAKE A TRIP

BABY, MAKE A WISH, BE THE ONE I'M WITH

SHOULD'VE BEEN A, SHOULD'VE, COULD'VE,

WOULD HAVE BEEN, AYY

YEAH, I WOULD HAVE BEEN (DAMN)

YEAH, I WOULD HAVE BEEN (YEAH)

DAMN, DAMN (COULD'VE BEEN)

YEAH, WE COULD'VE BEEN (OH NO)

around four months later, after officially getting together with mapi, ingrid decides to face her biggest fear. the one that toppled you two's relationship.

she posts a photo of mapi kissing her on the cheek on her instagram. cutting off her phone the moment it's posted, she may not be scared of having a public lesbian relationship anymore but still she didn't want to look at the comments.

nearly a full year of therapy has changed her into a much better person and girlfriend. the teasing comments from her teammates about them not knowing she was into girls weren't as frightening as she thought they would be. the online discussion about the reveal of mapi and her relationship was more positive than she expected.

oh, it really was just the fear holding her back.

it has been months upon months since ingrid had last seen you and she was fine with keeping it that way. of course she knew eventually you two would see each other somewhere. the women's football world is only so big with most women footballers being around each other at the same events and campaigns. however she didn't think it would be so soon.

she had been invited to an event by puma for their new campaign with puma athletes. it was later on during the event when ingrid spots you. one moment she's eating peacefully on her pasta and the next she's looking up to see your eyes on her.

what..?

she doesn't remember you being a puma athlete. perhaps that partnership happened after she blocked your instagram. god, now all that pasta is about to come up out of her throat. ingrid wants to run and run until this night is just a distant memory, but she doesn't. because ingrid is a different woman now. she doesn't run away from her fears now, she faces them.

the eye contact between you two doesn't last long as you look away. ingrid's throat feels like it's collapsing in on itself as she stands up and heads towards the bathroom.

as the norwegian throws some water on her face before looking up in the mirror. you come into the bathroom, warily standing next to the door as you look at her. "i didn't expect to see you again," you say softly. ingrid gives you a glance before sighing. this was a chance to at least give you an apology.

"y/n, i'm so sorry. for everything. i ruined something that could have been great and i treated you horribly. you didn't deserve that.." ingrid says as she looks at her, trying to see your reaction. you stay silent as you gesture for her to continue. "i was so afraid and needed so much help. i'm sorry it took you being hurt enough to leave for me to get it. i been doing therapy for months now and i am a way better person now," ingrid gives you an apologetic smile, "just know it was all me. never you. everything that happened was never your fault, y/n."

silence fills up the room as she finishes talking. you just blankly stare at her. it unnerves her, but it's okay. she's ready to see whatever reaction you will give.

"i don't forgive you.." are the words that come out of your mouth. ingrid just nods; it's understandable after all she's done to you. "but i'm glad you got help. finally," you say. she can tell you are being genuine with your tone.

the two of you look at each other before you turn and leave the bathroom. ingrid leaves out a bit after. heading back to her table feeling lighter than before.

she didn't get forgiveness, but you acknowledged how much work she has done. that's all she needed.

author notes: LMAOO it took me so long to finish this, but it's done. so basically i made another version of this part where ingrid is a little less sane in the head and also i plan to make a part 3 focused on the reader. which will be the last part (unless i change my mind), so if y'all could vote on what y'all want me to post first please do.

[strongheartneteyam]

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems

Part 6

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: a lot of angst, tension between neteyam and reader, heartbroken neteyam, sexual tension, heartbroken reader, insecure neteyam, jealous reader, neteyam just won't leave reader's head, hurt/comfort (?), TRIGGER WARNING for some sensitive themes like reader showing signs of low self steem and not thinking she's worth it, friend group dynamic among reader, adeline and kate, kiri being sweet, reader misses neteyam and regrets dumping him, reader thinks she's protecting neteyam from hurt by staying away from him, spider makes an appearance, kiri being protective over neteyam's feelings, reader tells kiri she likes neteyam. Tell me if there's more, pls.

Here I come, finally updating this incredibly angsty fanfiction :') I hope y'all enjoy this. Writing this fic breaks my heart, guys… it feels raw, honestly. Maybe I'm just speaking like this bc I'm on my period + I'm listening to a sad Taylor Swift song but omg my heart aches rn

Not proofread. I'm sorry, babies, I'm dead rn. So freaking sleepy and finishing this at 5 am bc my mind just wouldn't let me sleep and kept forcing me to think about and write this chapter.

Part 5: The sand hurts my feelings

𓇼

It hits different 'cause it's you

I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost

Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw

Freedom felt like summer then on the coast

Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

And I never don't cry at the bar

Yeah, my sadness is contagious

Hits Different (Taylor Swift)

𓇼

"Hey." Neteyam greeted you in a dry tone. He found it hard to look into your eyes so he just gazed rapidly into them and then kept his eyes on the ground.

His heart was broken, aching and his pride was shattered. Neteyam hated to see everybody around him looking at him with pity in their faces, knowing that he had been dumped by the girl he loved. He wondered if the boys - Lo'ak, Rotxo and Ao'nung - looked down on him now. Neteyam suddenly felt like he was not a good hypothetical mate. He had always thought he would make a good, reliable and loving mate to the girl he would one day choose to be his but you made him start doubting that after last night. He knew it was probably stupid but still he couldn't seem to get rid of those feelings.

You tried to hide your uneasiness but it was written all over your face.

"Hi." You answered Neteyam, your heart pounding in your chest, anxiety leaving your hands cold.

The pain you were causing Neteyam could be easily seen in the way his jaw clenched, in the way he weirdly looked insecure instead of confident as he always seemed to be. You wanted to say "I'm sorry", you wanted to say "Maybe I did the wrong thing when I refused to become your mate" but you had seen him with Munì. It was useless now, anyway.

Lo'ak looked at Neteyam, then back at you and then he would redo the whole thing all over again, like he was waiting for the both of you to exchange more words. Poor thing. He seemed even more tense than Neteyam and you.

"Rotxo, Ao'nung" Neteyam rapidly called, looking now at the Metkayina boys "Tonowari is waiting for us. Clan business." His voice was serious and seemed slightly annoyed, his face stern 

You wondered if Neteyam said "clan business" instead of giving more detail because you were sitting there too and he was mad at you. Well, you didn't blame him if that's how he felt. You deserved it. You could have been nicer to him this morning.

"Let's go!" Lo'ak spoke loudly, like he was trying to get out of that awkward situation as fast as he could

"Chill out, forest boy. We're going." Ao'nung teased and Rotxo laughed 

"I'm Metkayina now, fish lips. Stop calling me that." Lo'ak responded 

Frenemies indeed.

The boys left and your gaze was fixed on Neteyam's back as he walked away next to the other Metkayina. As you looked down at the beach floor, you wished that ache inside you would just vanish but life doesn't work that way.

When you looked up, you saw Tsireya's and Kiri's big feline eyes fixed on your face. It scared the crap out of you. They seemed even wider now.

"What?!" You sounded legitimately startled

"Neteyam told me and Lo'ak he was gonna ask you to be his mate at the party." Kiri stated

"And how the hell did every person in this tribe find out about that? Did he tell them too?" You didn't mean to sound rude but you really were overwhelmed by the situation

"It's just me, my brother and Rotxo. Only we know, other than Kiri and Lo'ak. My stupid brother overheard Kiri asking Neteyam how it had went, what answer you had given to Neteyam and he told Rotxo. I saw them laughing like idiots and asked what was so funny. That's when Ao'nung told me." Tsireya said, like she was sorry about the fact that so many people knew about yours and Neteyam's intimate business

𓇼

The day after that, you and the girls went back to Hell's Gate. You decided it was better to leave things the way they were. To let Neteyam have a nice, healthy and proper relationship with someone of his own kind. Like your father always used to say, na'vi and humans will never be equal. But he meant it in a derogatory way, with prejudice against the na'vi in his words while you meant something totally different. It was just natural that na'vi would marry other na'vi, not a human. The differences between both cultures did not just speak loud, they actually shouted like a mad person. You knew you could never get accustomed to being a na'vi male's mate. Not even if that male was Neteyam and just thinking about leaving him behind, thinking that you felt absolutely nothing for him, made you feel a burning, painful sensation in your heart. And of course Neteyam would be better off with an emotionally stable mate. Munì seemed perfect for him. 

You totally did not feel anger boiling inside your guts anytime you thought about her stupid smiles and giggles back when she was talking to him at the beach. She would make him happy and you were totally happy for them. The next step for you would be actually believing the words you just thought.

𓇼

One month and a few days had passed. You felt grateful that you had been able to dodge all the demands to go conduct scientific researches on the Metkayina tribe that you had received until now, asking to exchange positions with colleagues and staying in the lab, doing paperwork instead. You were doing everything in your power to avoid Neteyam. But you could never seem to be able to avoid the pain that washed over your body and the tears that wanted to come out - but never actually did because you were always strong enough to hold them back - whenever a sad love song started playing in your earbuds or in one of your friend's phones. It seemed like every fucking dumb love song reminded you of him.

After Kiri sent you a message almost begging you to go visit her, making you feel guilty and saying that she missed you a lot and now that she had her own marui, you just had to go to the reef and see it, you couldn't say "no". She was being too adorable and you missed her too. You asked Kiri if Kate and Adeline could come along and she excitedly agreed, so, the three of you used your next couple of days off to travel to the Metkayina beach again. It was a blessing that Neteyam had traveled to the Omatikaya tribe to see his grandmother Mo'at and was gonna be gone for a while, as Kiri had guaranteed you.

Kiri always had a very human side to her, just like Lo'ak. Neteyam didn't even seem like he was half human at times. He was extremely proud to be na'vi and wore his indigenous culture with honor all over himself. You could never see Neteyam asking to have his own place. He was too attached to his family - and you thought that was extremely cute. It wasn't traditional amongst the na'vi for an unmated young girl to leave her family's marui like that but Kiri was clever and she found a way to get what she wanted out of her parents.

𓇼

Adeline, Kate and you woke up as early as the Pandoran skies got clear and dragged your sleepy and tired asses to the Metkayina tribe. Being a scientist would never not leave a person overworked and exhausted. Like most mornings, you had drank way too much caffeine already for such an early hour in the day.

"Girl, how do you always look so beautiful? I could never." You pointed out as you watched Adeline make two thin braids to frame her round, delicate face and put her black curly hair in a voluminous bun on the top of her head, while the both of you were inside the science team's helicopter, heading to the Metkayina reef.

You had always found Adeline extremely pretty with her dark skin, voluptuous figure and feminine style. She always made sure to look cute.

"I don't know. I guess I'm God's favorite." She joked around and the both of you started to laugh

Adeline was also funny. She could put a smile in your face anytime, even when you were sad. You considered her a sister from another mother.

"You guys are stupid." Kate teased as she was laughing too and holding an energy drink filled with caffeine in her pale hand. She'd drink those often to help wake her up.

Kate's long, blonde, wavy hair fell gracefully over her chest. Her eyes were blue and she was tall and had an athletic but slim body. Damn, you only had breathtaking friends.

𓇼

Kate and Adeline had decided to take a nap after lunch in Kiri's marui and they asked if you would come too but you refused as you were far too restless to be able to sleep. That beach brought back too many memories…

So, now you found yourself sitting in the sand, watching the ocean waves break as they hit the shore with Kiri by your side. She had managed to make you say the truth about why you seemed so troubled.

"Yeah, (y/n), you fucked up big time." Kiri stated with that aura of wisdom beyond her years that only herself knew how to effortlessly exude.

You wanted to dig a hole in the sand under your feet and jump inside of it, hiding and never coming back up again. Of course you'd fuck it up with Neteyam. You had a cursed tendency to self sabotage. You did not know if being so freaking aware of it made you better or if it actually made you worse.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask nervously with furrowed eyebrows 

"(y/n)! It's not my feelings that you should be worried about! It's not my heart that you broke." Kiri scolded you as she looked at you with those big feline yellow eyes like she was actually horrified. You felt so bad for thinking it was kind of funny. "I know you don't wanna be Neteyam's mate but do you not care about him at all? Not even a little bit? He hasn't been the same ever since you dumped him and left. Poor thing can barely go train with dad. I think I saw him sniffing while hiding one of these days. Eywa knows that prideful teylu" (edible Pandoran bug) "would never cry in front of us."

"I swear I didn't mean to be cruel. I just did not know… how to react. It was sudden, you know? It's like, I don't know… a cultural shock? Humans don't go around asking people they just met to marry them. Or… become their mates." It would never feel normal to say "mates" to you

Apparently you had acted just like Kat Stratford in 10 Things I Hate About You, when she would cold heartedly refuse Patrick Verona over and over again. You used to always watch that vintage movie with Tracy. It was one of her favorites. 

"Don't act like it was the first time you two had met. Neteyam stared at you all the time when you came to our tribe. I swear to Eywa I've never seen him nervous to talk to a girl before but you have a power over my brother… it's fucking crazy to watch actually. He's like a needy, dumb dog drooling over you when he looks at you. It's even freaky." Kiri couldn't hold it back so she burst into laughter, hiding her mouth with her big but delicate hand

You were nervous as fuck but you started to laugh too. It seemed like the nervousness and guilt and tense vibe of the situation only made it worse, making everything even more funny and absurd.

"You know the worst part of it all?" You looked at her like a child who just broke their mom's most precious vase

"Great Mother, don't tell me there's more." Kiri said, incredulous

"I think I like Neteyam." You confessed like you were a good catholic girl confessing her sins to a priest

"You like him?!" She almost screamed

"You don't need to declare it out loud for the whole reef to hear!" You got slightly mad

"You teylu!" She smirked as she moved her head from side to side in disapproval "Why the hell did you dump him then?"

"I don't know, Kiri. Don't judge me, okay?" You put both your hands over your face, hiding it and moving your head from side to side yourself this time. 

At least you knew your attitude had been controversial and confusing to say the least. They say the first steps to recovery are realizing and admitting you're insane.

𓇼

It was now eclipse. You were inside Kiri's home with her and your human friends. Kate and Adeline were finishing unpacking their bags.

"Guys, I'm going out for some fresh air, okay?" You said, trying to find an excuse to get out of that marui filled with girls - human and na'vi.

"You've been acting weird lately." Adeline pointed out "Spending too much time alone."

Kiri discreetly looked at you with a look of concern in her face, as she was the only one of the girls who knew the reason behind your strange demeanor.

"I just need some air. I'll be back soon." You spoke as you walked towards the door of the marui

"Don't go in the ocean! It could be dangerous!" Kate yelled. She was the "mom friend" of the group.

"I know!" You laughed "I'm not stupid. I'm a scientist too. But thanks for your concern."

You walked through the beach for a while, trying to take a certain tall, handsome blue alien out of your mind when you saw Spider walking in the area too. He waved at you and you waved back.

You weren't as close to Spider as you were to Kiri and Lo'ak but you did love his company.

You sat on the sand with him, looking at the ocean, just like you had done with Kiri earlier and you two started to catch up and eventually the talk got deeper, more philosophical.

"Don't you feel crazy, Spider? Living among beings of another species? Don't you feel… left out?" Your eyes looked at him with genuine doubt in them

"I do, sometimes." He sighs "Especially because of how Mrs Sully acts towards me, at times" the both of you laughed quickly "But this place is my home. I was born in Pandora, I know nowhere else that I could call home. And also, I grew up around Lo'ak, Kiri, Neteyam and Tuk. They're family to me, even if not related by blood. It doesn't really matter in the end, family are the ones who are there for you. Not your bloodline." 

"Oh my God, I totally agree!" You rapidly say in a slight loud tone, chuckling, like you wanted to emphasize how much you shared the same opinion with him

"So..." You pondered if you should tell him or not "Neteyam talked to me last-"

"Yeah, I know. Ao'nung told me." Spider interrupted

"Of course he did..." You rolled your eyes and sighed. So everybody knew already...

Spider chuckled softly.

"Anyways, Neteyam calls me tawtute. I think it's funny that he calls me "human", but in na'vi"

"Yeah, that's him being affectionate towards you. He likes you. A lot." Spider pointed out

You stoped smiling and your heart started feeling painful.

"He probably hates me now, actually. I totally blew it off. I was really insensitive towards him." Shame and regret covered your face, as you were crestfallen

"Have you ever thought about apologizing?"

"Yeah, of course I have. Many times. I just…" You hesitated "I guess I can't face him now."

"Oh, c'mon. I know you can do it. Isn't it worse to be feeling guilty and sad and let Neteyam think you don't feel sorry for hurting him?"

"You have a point, Spider. God, I hate it when you're right." You laughed and slapped his arm softly, in a playful manner

𓇼

Adeline and Kate slept peacefully next to you, each one of them in a different mat - but the three mats had been placed next to the other. You, on the other hand, hadn't been able to sleep well in almost two months. Kiri told you and the girls she was gonna stay up and she now was, at the corner of the marui, making herself a new beaded necklace in the light of a tiny fire she had lit up.

As you laid quietly in your mat with your eyes closed but wide awake, you heard footsteps inside the marui. You could not believe it when you opened your eyes and you saw it was Neteyam. His tall, slender figure and head full of thin braids that danced in the air as he moved made you recognize him immediately, even in the dark of the eclipse.

Damn! Wasn't he supposed to be in the Omatikaya tribe right now? And what the hell was he even doing here instead of going to his parents' marui?

𓇼

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

@layla2-49

@a-blog-name-2003

@lala-1516

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@yeosxxx

@iaratezaewa

[lunarw0rks]

Through The Ashes | Chapter Four

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): brief mentions of sex (18+), swearing, blood, violence, injuries, Valeria being zesty towards reader

A/N: Giving y'all a long chapter as a thank you for the support on the previous parts<3 Also this isn't proofread lol | Word Count: 6k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

New Players In The Game

The briefing the next morning couldn’t have been more agonizing.

This wasn’t a situation of trying not to look at him. No, he had that covered for you. You hadn’t even glanced at that side of the table, and you weren’t planning to either.

“I’ve made contact with a counter-terrorism leader by the name of Alejandro Vargas. He’s gotten a closer look at El Sin Nombre than any of our leads have given us.” Price passes out intel files on this new player, taking a huff of his cigar. “Read the files, you know the drill. And pack light.”

As everyone began to clear the room and begin their duties for the day, you remained seated at the table, tightly clenching the file in your hands.

Maybe a change of scenery would be better for everyone, and it would get your team closer to snuffing out your latest threat. On the other hand, being stuck on a plane with Ghost made you want to jump off a cliff.

You remained seated for a few moments before you finally got up and headed for your dorm.

You gave your bed a passing glance, instantly being reminded of what happened the previous night. After you cleaned yourself up, you couldn’t bring yourself to lay on it. You found it preferable to strain your neck sleeping on the sofa. Although today, the pinch in your neck was making you regret that decision.

You grabbed your duffel bag and packed a few extra uniforms, a jacket, and your toiletries. You zipped it up and set it on the sofa, having one less task to do today.

“I’ll pay you to pack mine like that. I’ve never been good at packing.” Soap’s voice brought you to his attention. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” You chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide the things weighing on your mind. That was one plus of Soap being sort of clueless about things like that.

“Who are you going to sit next to? Gaz already has dibs on the seat by Price.” Soap says as if to hint something.

He was lucky you weren’t even looking Ghost in the eye right now, so this could work out well for you. “I’ll sit next to you.” He looked like a child whose parents just said yes to ice cream. If only he knew why you were so eager.

—

You were the last to board the plane, having been running a little late that morning. You scanned all the occupied seats and finally spotted Soap.

“Might be cramped, this was the only spot left.” He stated, giving an innocent stare. You smiled as you approached closer to him, but it dropped just as quickly when you saw the seating situation.

Soap on the outside seat, and Ghost sitting in the window seat. You are in the middle of the two of them. You’d rather take your chances hanging onto one of the wings than have to sit like this for several hours, but here you were.

You squeezed past Soap and sat in the middle, feeling squished immediately. At least Soap was polite enough to keep his limbs on his side as best as he could. Ghost, on the other hand, made no attempt. His thighs smushed against yours, and his elbow was on your armrest.

He refused to look your way. He stared out the small window for most of the flight. Soap fell asleep on your shoulder about an hour into the flight, so there was no escape for you here. The best you could do was get some work done, listen to some music, count to a thousand - anything that didn’t make you think about what he did.

The hours couldn’t go any slower in your opinion, but they had passed nonetheless. You unbuckled your seatbelt and went to the bathroom, needing a few minutes to breathe - physically and emotionally.

You were craving the night alone you’d have, finally sleeping somewhere other than understimulating barracks.

—

“Enjoy yourselves. But remember, we’re heading out bright and early tomorrow.” The team looked around in awe at the decent hotel they’d be staying in.

“Military budget has its perks, eh?” Soap leaned close to your ear, grinning ear to ear. Luxury wasn’t something you or anyone working jobs like this got often, so it was a treat.

Everyone piled into the elevator, waiting for you to catch up to them. You made eye contact with Ghost, who was in front of the bunch. His eyes brushed over you briefly, but they hastily returned to the floor.

“I’ll take the stairs.” You stated, heading towards them with a clenched jaw. You did just that, jogging down the flights of them to reach your room.

You felt relief over you as you reached your suite. You dropped your bag and flopped onto the bed.

In truth, you wanted to scream into the pillows like a high school girl, but you wanted to handle it better than that.

You took advantage of the grand bathroom, letting yourself soak in it for an absurd amount of time as you worked on some files. For a second, you finally felt a bit of reprieve. But you knew deep down it was going to take more.

You weren’t hurt. You weren’t embarrassed. You were furious.

—

You put on some fresh clothes after your bath - some casual night attire. To say you felt overdressed was an understatement. Having been in uniform for so long, it was an uncanny sensation to you.

The boys were downstairs, surely taking advantage of the open bar and lounge.

It was strange seeing them let loose, laughing with one another. They sat around a card table, intensely playing their card game.

If Ghost weren’t at that table, you might have considered having some fun with them. You hated the sight of him. The way he chatted and played his cards with them like nothing happened.

You strolled over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Might as well learn something from the man you despised and self-medicate when you’re down.

You stare over your shoulder every so often when one of them celebrates a win or loss. You decide to cut yourself off after a few drinks. Working with Ghost in a foreign country and being hungover on top of it was your limit, so you decided against getting plastered.

“Heading to bed?” Soap asked as he looked up from his cards. You nodded and headed for the elevator.

You stepped inside and pressed your button. Before the doors closed, an arm stuck its way between them. A very familiar tattooed arm. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

The doors opened again, letting him step inside. Of course, they had to close sluggishly before the elevator started moving.

The thought hit you about halfway to his floor. You punched the stop button with your fist and turned to him. “Tell me something. What makes you think you can get away with it?” He wasn’t going to budge easily, even if you tried to push his buttons.

He sighed and looked at the floor. You noticed he was swaying a bit more than the last time you saw him at the card table. Of course, you decide to give him a piece of your mind when he’s probably not going to remember it.

Might as well get it out of you, or you’ll implode. “You think you can fuck me and then just walk out? Who do you think you are?” You pressed the stop button again when the last timer ran out.

He finally met your eyes, but his look wasn’t what you were expecting. His expression looked pained, even underneath the glossiness of his intoxication.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” he slurred, staring at the numbers increasing closer to his floor.

You tongued the inside of your cheek and clenched the fist leaning on the wall.

“Oh, you’re gonna play that card now. I shouldn’t expect anything less from you, I guess…” You spat, continuing to stare at him as you spoke. “You act tough, but you can’t even face the problems ahead of you. All you know is how to kill and push everyone away!”

He grabbed your forearm tightly and leaned closer. “You… don’t know anything about me. Or anyone here, so keep your mouth shut.” You’d never heard him sound more irate to anyone, and you’d never expected it to be you on the receiving end of it.

You tore yourself out of his grip and took a few steps back, but didn’t break eye contact with him.

“You threaten me again, and I’ll kill you myself.” You snarled back, catching him off guard slightly. He never imagined someone giving it back to him. Luckily, or unluckily, it was you.

As if perfect timing, the doors opened, and you paraded out without looking back, stomping your way to your room.

—

You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t feel good the next morning. The big confrontation didn’t go quite as you planned, but you walked away without a broken bone, and with Ghost - that was a success.

You were the last to meet everyone in the lobby. Price’s face lit up when you were finally there. “There you are. Let’s get going, big day ahead.”

Ghost was even more distant than he was the night he walked out on you if that was possible. That was fine with you. There wasn’t anything you could say to hurt him, he already had that deep inside him - and it was intertwined around him.

At least being in separate cars, you were able to catch up on some sleep. You seemed to never get enough ever since you took the job.

The vehicle jolting to a stop made you open your eyes, then rub them to get your bearings.

You looked around, finding yourself somewhere in the desert of Mexico. This must be where you’ll meet this “Alejandro” figure. Maybe he would be a good ally. But to you, it could be another reason to watch over your back.

Each of you climbed out of the SUVs, looking around at the base in front of you. Whoever he was, he had a decently sized unit he was commanding.

The door swung open and out walked Alejandro. He had his hands placed behind his back, keeping his posture straight. “Captain,” he reaches his hand out and shakes it with Price, scanning your team as well. “Did your team enjoy the hotel?”

Price maintained a friendly attitude as the chatter between them persisted, which made you ease up a bit. Alejandro showed you around his base, which was a sizeable facility. Definitely different than the barracks in Western countries, but not somewhere terribly cramped. He wasn’t running decaying barracks - he definitely had some reach.

“Not as cozy as you’re used to in the States?” Alejandro questioned with a chuckle deep from his chest. “Welcome to Las Almas.” With that, he left everyone to get settled.

Your “room” was more like a group of bunks in the corner of the base. Not as private, and surely something to get used to. You picked the top bunk, purposely waiting until Ghost decided on his so it would be the furthest from him.

You set your bag down to claim the bunk and caught up with the rest of the group as they headed out the door.

Alejandro briefed everyone on the intel he had. He knew a lot more about El Sin Nombre than your team could hope for. The problem was a lack of numbers - which he now had.

The sight of the country around you was a culture shock. You’d gotten comfortable with the way things were while being stationed in the States, you’d forgotten how complex warfare could be for other countries. Things were more rugged and lawless here.

“An ally of ours - Shadow Company, says they’ll have Hassan in custody by nightfall.” Alejandro climbed into the SUV and then followed your team. “We leave now, we’ll be there in time to get you your information, Captain.”

“You sure you’ll be able to shake him?” Price needled, giving him a skeptical glance.

Alejandro snickered and nodded his head. “It’s clear you haven’t met Commander Graves. He’ll get the job done.”

—

It was a long drive, with nothing but endless desert all around you. The sun had set, and the only thing you could see was the dirt illuminated by the headlights.

Finally, the cars came to a stop. You climbed out and stretched your legs, seeing a man knelt in the sand below you. And in front of him, a man with a head of blonde hair.

“Graves,” Alejandro barked, getting his attention. He motioned toward your team, “Task Force 141. They flew in this morning—figured you would appreciate the help.”

Graves turned his head, nodding instead of introducing himself properly. He tore the sack off of Hassan’s head and gave him some halfway threat.

“You are in bed with the cartel, Hassan. If you go missing, no one would look for the fuckin’ stain.” A hint of his accent appeared, the more deeply he blustered the hostage.

He inched closer to Hassan’s face, as the 141 watched in anticipation. “Where are the missiles going? You can start talking… Or become a part of the food chain.” Graves snarled. His voice echoed in the vastness of the wilderness.

Hassan wasn’t going to budge - and you expected as such.

Graves approached the laptop sitting on the hood of the truck beside him, virtually facing General Shepard. “Actual, let me finish this.” He pleaded his palms flat on the car.

“Without proof, we need to cut him loose, and see where Hassan leads us,” Shepard spoke, sounding just as disgruntled as the looks written on your colleague's faces.

Soap shook his head in disbelief, stepping forward. “You can’t be serious, Shepard. He’s right here.”

Unfortunately, rules were rules—even if you did want to execute the man yourself.

“This pissing match is getting us nowhere, Price.” You uttered to him. “He’s too hellbent on making us bleed to give us anything.” You gripped the collar of your vest in frustration.

Price nodded in agreement, tightening his brows at the headache this was causing him.

You burned your gaze into Graves’ back as you strode back to the car. Graves was going to be a problem, you already knew it. 

You looked Ghost in the eyes as you passed him, opening up the car door, “I don’t like arrogance. It causes mistakes.”

Ghost’s eyes snapped back, giving you a scowl in response.

—

You’re perched on the rooftop alongside Soap, Graves, and Ghost, overlooking a large adobo-style mansion a few meters back.

“La Casa de Sin Nombre?” Soap inquired, squinting as he examined the building.

“No. One of his Lugartenientes.” Alejandro handed the binoculars to him, letting him see for himself.

The lights on inside the house looked like a lone star circling through the black hole that was the night sky.

A cartel lieutenant - one rank closer to your target.

Alejandro explains that the party will be full of cartel VIPs. It would be risky, but there was no other way to get this close. Your stomach drops at his words.

This wasn’t a celebration - it was a meeting disguised as a party.

The cartel is privy to your squad being in Las Almas, and it’s very clear you’re not welcome.

“Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?” Ghost finally utters a sentence. You almost forgot he was there entirely, and those were blissfully ignorant moments.

Alejandro shakes his head, keeping his mild demeanor. “No guarantees, but it’s our best shot. We go in carefully.”

Graves cocks his head to the side and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “I’ve got enough Shadows to take over the damn country. One house shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We need Sin Nombre alive.” Ghost retorts. It’s as if nothing anyone said could get through Graves’ thick skull. If you’re in the line of fire, he was not the man you wanted beside you.

Graves ignores Ghost’s tone and speaks again, “Well… Then we need to meet him.”

If it wasn’t obvious, you would’ve kept the scorn on your face visible to Graves. Terrorists were one thing, but the cartel was a deadlier force. This was far out of your element.

“Give them what they want. Intel.” He states matter-of-a-factly. “They wanna know who’s here. Let’s tell ‘em—in person.” His confidence only showed because he wasn’t going to be the one in the hot seat.

It was clear Graves never spent his days getting dirty—he just commanded others to get dirtier.

You knew what he was implying, and every part of you wanted to protest. However, you came here to assist, so that’s what you were going to do.

“Get someone inside, find the boss…” Graves put his palms together and scanned the group before him.

You felt your throat tighten at the thought. Graves looked at you a bit longer than the others, like he was about to volunteer you. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was in the path ahead of you.

“I’ll do it.” Soap’s words were music to your ears. But deep inside, you realized he would now be at risk, face-to-face with the biggest cartel players.

“You go in there and they’ll kill you, hermano,” Alejandro spoke, staring at Soap’s unusually calm comportment.

“I’ll take my chances. We came here to stop a missile, so let’s stop it.” His tone grew stronger. He was right.

Tough decisions plagued each of your colleagues every day. Learning to accept the fact that it might be your last one was just another lesson to learn.

You took a deep breath, giving Soap a look of esteem. He didn’t need to do this, but he was ready to save countless innocent lives at the drop of a hat.

Alejandro spoke once more, “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. You’ll need eyes and ears, I’ll go too.”

Following, Ghost spoke, “I’ll take overwatch.”

“You,” A firm hand reached for your shoulder.

Your throat closed as you circled around, seeing the smirk tease at the corner of Graves’ mouth. “I want you in there with him, too.” He motioned toward Soap, whose lips formed a scowl.

Ghost hid any semblance of change to his face, but his eyes didn’t lie. You knew better than anyone when he was disturbed by something—and the decision to send you in disturbed him.

You were too busy digging your nails into the palm of your hand to notice. The fist clenched at your side couldn’t get any tighter.

At first, it was a simple dislike for Graves. But now, it was complete distaste.

“She ain’t going in there with me.” Soap retorted defensively, puffing out his chest at Graves.

You admired the gesture, but you weren’t going to curl into a ball and hide from this.

Showing weakness enables men like Graves to win. You weren’t going to allow that as you were still breathing.

You nudged Soap with your knuckle and gave him a nod to stand down.

“It’s too late to argue about this, I’m going in there.” Your eyes flicked to Graves, who almost looked shocked you didn’t fight him. That two-fisted look in his eyes only fueled your need to prove him wrong, even if took some small victories to chip away over time.

—

You fiddled with the Shadow patch Graves handed you as if it was a foolproof way to not get a bullet in your head. You begged to differ on that. It wasn’t going to be so simple.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” Soap questioned, meeting your gaze.

You nodded, stuffing the patch into your shirt pocket. “Graves is just trying to show us how big he is. I don’t mind giving him what he wants.” You stated imprudently, walking down the hill with your partner side by side.

“Shadows on the station.” Graves chirped through your earpieces.

“Copy. All set here.” Ghost spouted, placed somewhere with his sights aimed at the guards roaming the property.

The both of you made it to the beginning of the driveway, hesitantly trudging down further.

“Alejandro, how you doin’?” Their radio chatter continued.

Both of you were a little more concerned with being inches from the cartel, so it blended into the music booming through the walls. The only saving grace was Alejandro waiting for the two of you. He, you could tolerate.

Ghost’s scope trailed the two of you as you approached the two armed men at the gate, both of them concealing their faces through ski masks. They could snuff you out right here, right now, and there was nothing Ghost could do to prevent it. That undeniably weighed on him.

You both raised your hands in surrender as they spotted you, instantly rushing over and questioning your presence. The both of you stuck out like sore thumbs in a place like this.

You fluttered your eyelids shut and kept your composure. You were trained for situations like this, you needed to act like it.

The guard on Soap’s side smashed the butt of his SMG into the back of his leg, forcing him to his knees. You were shoved harshly into the same position, your knees digging into the rigid cement. Both of you placed your hands on the back of your head, waiting for the next move.

At least they didn’t shoot us on the spot, the thought ran through your head. You glanced at Soap briefly, giving him a slightly unglued look, which you were trying desperately to hide.

The guard spoke into the headset, poised for his orders.

In a matter of seconds, you had a sack over your head and zip ties around your wrists. Both of you were being escorted inside, with the barrels of their guns digging into your shoulder blades.

You heard the ding of an elevator. As the sound of the door scraping shut ended, the sack was ripped from your heads.

“Alejandro…?” You asked in a hushed voice. You recognized the eyes showing through the holes of the mask he was wearing.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. “No time—give them the good intel in there. Don’t lie, tell them everything they want to know or you’ll die here. Mexican Special Forces, American PMCs, Shadow Company, and Philip Graves.” You give a simple nod, and so does Soap.

You prepared yourself for whoever would be facing you when you reached the basement level. Would it be El Sin Nombre?

The doors whirred open, revealing a bald man dressed in typical Cartel boss streetwear. Colorful button-down, a gold chain hanging around his neck, and most importantly, two holsters with two very loaded pistols.

He looked the both of you up and down as if sizing you up. His eyes stayed on you a little longer than Soap, which you noticed immediately. “These are the two who came to crash the party?” He spoke rhetorically. Alejandro nodded, passing you both along to him.

“You got a name, hawk?” His gaze shifted to the man standing beside you. You gulped as you hid halfway behind him, trying not to attract the wrong attention.

“They call me Soap.”

The captor guffaws dryly as he utters something in Spanish to Alejandro, something you couldn’t catch. You guessed it had to do with Soap’s name. It’s better he’s laughing at a name than your defiled corpses, so you’ll take what you can get here.

“I want to see El Sin Nombre.” You felt your muscles tighten, wanting to smack Soap upside the head. Neither of you was in a position to make demands.

Soap’s collar is gripped tightly by the man, who was growing curter by the second. “You’re only alive because you may have some information.”

The ties dug into the soft skin around your wrists as you tensed your fists.

He holds a finger up to Soap’s face, “And it better be good, Guero, or I’m going to scalp that hawk off your head, and make her watch.”

Your jaw tightened at the gruesome picture replaying in your head. Soap needed to be more careful with his words, as much as he desired to play the Tough Guy act. His stare grew defensive as you were shoved into a walk again, following the way the stone walls guided you.

You followed behind Soap, who was following the captor. “This is my house… That means you don’t see the boss until I say so. You don’t speak unless spoken to. And mas importante—tell the fucking truth. Cause if you lie? I’ll feed you to my dogs.”

His words were received loud and clear by you, and you could tell Soap understood as well.

Alejandro was right about one thing so far… The only weapon you needed to get out of this alive was the truth.

The door to the room you were being led to opened. A young woman, fashioning a short bob and a black tank top was stood there.

“Valeria. Two more, one gringo, one girl.”

“Sit down,” Valeria said with an icy glare, sharply examining the both of you as you were both shoved inside.

There were other men down there, some dead, others struggling against their restraints in torment. Based on the bloody tarps spread out below the chairs, you put together the pieces.

You did as your told, and landed yourself face to face with her. Soap, she was not phased by, but you, she was. You were probably the only other woman in the house aside from the dancing girls.

She stepped toward the man from the elevator. “They say they have information.”

She shoves him to the floor and holds a large blade to his neck, “we don’t know either of them, and they’ve seen our faces, Diego!” She bellowed, digging her painted nails into his chin from behind.

“We need intel—they could help us,” he struggled against her grip slightly, but he was obviously submitting himself to her. You found it strange. When you first saw Diego, he carried the demeanor of a boss and even looked the part.

But here he was, on his knees with a knife to his throat. Valeria played a bigger part in all of this, you knew that for certain.

“They better… Or I kill them—and it’s you in that chair.” She didn’t need to get into specifics to instill fear in those around her. She knew what to say, and just how to say it. You couldn’t screw this up if you wanted any chance of walking out of here.

“Who attacked us yesterday?” She turned her attention to Soap, keeping her pistol drawn at her side.

“It was the Mexican army.” He spoke plainly, looking deeply into her bitter eyes as if to ensure she believes him. “No. It was Mexican Special Forces.” Soap’s backtracking sets back any trust she had in his credibility.

Valeria swings her pistol and whips him in the forehead. Soap winced afterward, blinking away the blood running down his brow bone. “Fuck up again, and you’ll be drifting home in pieces.”

You didn’t doubt that threat for a second. You didn’t doubt how much pleasure she would take in doing it either.

Now, done with questioning Soap, she put her attention on you. “There were outsides helping the Special Forces. Who were they?”

Alejandro’s instructions replayed through your head as she waited for your response.

“American PMCs… Shadow Company, led by Commander Philip Graves. The proof is in my pocket.” You kept your voice as steady as possible, making sure it was clear you weren’t going to make the same mistakes as Soap.

She fingered through your shirt pocket and pulled it out, seeing the logo etched inside the patch of fabric. She looked pleased, which was at least a step up from her usual scowl.

She places the pistol back into her holster and pulls out the same blade she had digging into Diego only moments ago. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the reflection of the sharp metal bounce of the fluorescent lighting.

With a quick slash, she sliced through the ties, freeing up your tender hands.

“El Sin Nombre will enjoy talking to you.” She grabbed your shoulder and forced you to your feet, a sinister smirk engulfing any confidence you had left.

You jerked your head backward and gave one last glance at Soap, which had an expression of worry so deep you hadn’t seen before.

You had a feeling you weren’t going to have a civil sit down with whoever he was, and then be free to go, to blabber to anyone you pleased. There was something behind that smirk, something you needed to brace yourself for.

You were brought to the top level of the house, and shoved into what looked like a meeting room, but fancier than any you’d ever been in before. One large table, but only a few chairs—only the highest up in the cartel were allowed in here.

You rubbed your bruised wrists as you looked around the room, expecting anything by this point. Did she kill Soap already? Was he being tortured at this very moment?

You reached for your earpiece, which was still filling your ear with gentle static.

It pained you to speak with him, but you needed the reassurance of his voice. “Ghost, how copy?”

“Quiet here. You still alive down there?” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic tone, knowing the exact expression he probably had while saying that.

Your breathing hitched when the door behind you opened, making you act natural, as if you hadn’t been wearing an earpiece during this entire ordeal.

It was Diego, from the basement. He wasn’t El Sin Nombre, that was blatantly clear. What was the point of this?

Your eyes darted around the room, hoping to spot anything you could use if this went unsavory.

At least you had Ghost in your ear, to be a witness to anything that might happen in this room. Your sudden silence made his stomach tighten. He could sense something was wrong, and he couldn’t do anything to prevent it.

“Relax.” His demeanor made your hairs stand up.

“Valeria wanted me to keep you company… But why keep lying to each other? You know she’s not some ‘Sicaria’… You’ve figured it out.” He taunted you, and he was right.

But you don’t just see the face of a cartel boss and walk away unscathed—things didn’t work that way.

He grabbed the back of your head, digging his fingertips into your scalp. You were slammed into the large oak table, palms parallel to each side of your head.

“I bet you think you know it all, huh? Is that why you came in with Hawk? To keep him from getting himself killed?” You gritted your teeth at the condescending mention of Soap, and swung your elbow backward, nailing him in the ribs.

You flipped around and inched your hand toward the porcelain ashtray, using all your force to bash the side of his head with it. He stumbled backward, holding the gaping wound he now displayed.

He tilted his head upright, giving you a devilish eye. “You fucking bitch.”

His speed overtook you, forcing the both of you to the ground.

You clawed at him, finding any way to weaken him, but it was difficult without any of your gear at the ready. He returned the grip he had on your hair earlier and used it to thump your head into the ground, attempting to stun you. Your defenses slowed, but they didn’t stop.

You were running off pure adrenaline. You clocked him on the temple, giving him three harsh wacks while using the force of your entire upper body, just like Ghost instructed you weeks ago.

His grasp weakened as your fist only irritated the laceration you gave him before, tearing open more of the skin.

The look of pure rage on his face didn’t diminish, even though his energy was beginning to.

He wrapped his large hands around your throat, squeezing with what strength he had left in him. Your legs were pinned with his knees, giving you no out.

You banged against his chest, pulling at the chain around his neck, but nothing would stop him.

One moment the last of your oxygen is being squeezed out of you, and in the next, you’re drenched in his crimson liquid.

The splatter cast all around you, and he was a dead weight laying on top of you. A leather boot kicks him off of you, relieving the strain he was putting on your bones.

Behind the smoking gun, was Valeria.

You choked in a breath, holding onto your burning throat with one hand, the other held up to the gun she’s holding—as if in one ditch effort to save yourself. You didn’t have any more fight in you after that.

That smirk returned as she holstered her pistol.

“Hope you didn’t mind. Had to make him feel big and strong before I got rid of him. Diego was always a pain.” She raised her hand and slowly wiped the blood spot that splashed onto her cheek.

Her eyes always seemed to be dug deep within you, like she had some sort of carnal feeling for you.

You sat there in disbelief, rethinking everything that led you to this moment. You were both the unluckiest and luckiest person on the planet right now.

“Your friends will be coming for me soon. It’s been a pleasure, Cariña.” She peered out the window, hearing the approaching chopper.

She rushed out the door to give Alejandro one more game of cat and mouse that this time, she knew she was going to lose.

Ghost’s voice coming through the earpiece startled you out of your speechlessness. “How copy? Are you alive?” His voice was frantic instead of sarcastic like the previous time.

He heard every bit of what Diego said, and the fray you got into with him. And through it all, you had barely made a sound.

For all he knew, you were laying in a pool of your own blood.

“Copy. Room is clear for now.” You croaked out, fighting the burning sensation that was filling your bruised throat.

You struggled to your feet, using the marble fireplace to pull yourself up.

You placed a palm on the ache your lower stomach had, from where it was digging into the table, and limped out to the roof, where Valeria was being secured.

Somehow, someway, Alejandro and Soap were also standing there, in better shape than you.

You approached Alejandro, swallowing away your discomfort.

“How did you get him out? I thought for sure he was…” You motioned your head to Soap, trailing off your sentence in bewilderment.

He shook his head, noticing how relieved you looked to see your friend alive, and so did Soap. How he managed it, you won’t ever know.

You just cared that you finally had the target your team had been chasing for months, even if the price were you receiving some knocks.

Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, scanning you for any worse injuries than what he could spot at first glance. “You fought a cartel Lieutenant, and you’re standing in front of me? What are we going to do with you?” He questioned playfully, climbing into the helicopter after helping you step inside.

Price’s eyes lit up when he saw you get inside.

“Thought we lost you, Private.” His tone was gentle, like a father comforting his child that fell off his bike.

You leaned your head back against the headrest of the seat, taking a deep sigh.

No one was injured, the target was secure, and you didn’t have the energy to kill Ghost at that very moment—for you, that was the closest you were going to get to a win.

“Next time you get into a brawl, you could at least give me an inch first.” Ghost stated, keeping his stoic composure as placed a bandage on your forehead.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I think about bashing your face in.” You peeked through the eye that was facing him, keeping your tone low.

You were partially serious, and he knew it.

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots @gothgirl6-6-6 @cloudyyjanee

[nescaveckwriter]

Just One More🌟

Line: Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this 😱 will be in bold

A/N: YAY! Yet another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🐞 ... I heard the song from 'Little big town' and it was just too perfect, I had this idea, and well it ran away with me . 💕 I sure do hope y'all enjoy this ...💕

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language🫣, angst,😱 heartbreak,🥺smut.🥵

Characters: Beau Arlen x Female Reader.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.

Words:2464 😅

The smell of freshly brewed coffee, fills the air, the brownish - gold liquid getting poured into the white cup, stirring in a few drops of milk, as the mug touches your lips, the liquid warms the inside of your mouth, the bold, bitter taste awakening all your senses, almost swirling around the liquid before swallowing, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to hold out reality a little longer, rubbing your fingers over the printed logo, 'M...R...S' a smirk, on your lips, regretting that you took the mug of the set of two 'Mr. & Mrs.' mugs, gold  lettering, like the wedding bands, you were so excited the day you picked it up from the little décor shop, on your honeymoon, looking back now, it seems like a  lifetime ago. The footsteps, coming from the guest bedroom, let's your eyes flung open, revealing the half-open boxes stacked everywhere.

The deep Texan, in his voice, almost echoing through the half packed up house, "Morning" he clears his throat "Uhmm, how do we..." Before he could finish his sentence, you look at him, your eyes throwing darts at his green-hazel eyes. "Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this"

A little sarcastic giggle escapes his lips, "oh yeah! Well we'll have to deal with this sometime"

You get up out the chair, standing straight up, but your husband, well soon to be ex-husband still towering over you, revealing how much smaller you are than him. "I said, I don't want to deal with this right now, can't I just have one last quiet morning in our... Uhmm in this house"

Irritation evident in his voice "listen, I just want this to be over so that we can go on with our lives"

"Well so sorry, I'm taking so much time, to just pack everything up and throw away the life we built" you hissed

"Excuse me! We both made the decision to get a divorce"

 You voice barely audible "yeah I know" swallowing the emotion in your voice "I just got back from my shift at the hospital and I just need to freshen up first, then I will help sorting through the stuff okay"

His voice soft, "how was your shift?"

As you put the coffee mug in the kitchen sink you whisper "it was okay, we lost a patient today, bad car accident"

His eyes saddened as he knows how much it affects you "I'm so sorry darl..." He stops himself before finishing his sentence.

You just walk away, towards your once shared bedroom, knowing he most probably wanted to say darling, the little pet name he always used for you.

As you get into the shower, letting the hot water run over you, you let go of the hold on the floodgates behind your eyes, sobbing frantically now, holding your hand over your mouth, so that you can dampen the noises, your body shaking, as your mind drift, to the events of the past few weeks, you and Beau both agreed to get a divorce, the two of you got so busy with every day life, that the two of you started to drift further and further away, its so ironic the same jobs that brought the two off you together, is also tearing you apart.

The two of you met, while he came in, with a knife wound to his arm, and as you treated him, well it was love at first sight so too say. As you fall down, cradling your knees as the water runs over you, recalling the years you've been together, you always thought getting a divorce at your age won't happen, but well your here now. The thing that breaks you, is no-one cheated, the two of you just fought all the damn time, and him being Sheriff and you being a ER doctor, working mostly night shifts, you were living past each other, when you got home, he's leaving for work, and when he gets back home, your leaving for your shift.

You can't even recall the last time you two kissed, never less touched. You were so in love, so passionate and now all that has gone too hell. Getting up, and stepping out of the shower, opting out for a pair of your favorite worn out jeans, with a old t-shirt, not realizing it's one of his shirts, but hey, it's already on you, so what the heck. Throwing your hair into a messy bun, you don't real seem to care how homeless you look as your heart already feel homeless.

Glancing through your bedroom, everywhere boxes labeled his and hers, as you two are going to put your house up for rent and then split the profits between the two off you. As you take the bottle of perfume, spritzing it in the nape of your neck and some on your wrist, a small smile forms on your lips as you remember, Beau gave it to you for your birthday last year, he always did take such notice in the smallest of details. But that memory crumbles quickly as you see the stack of divorce documents, on your dresser, both of you agreed to sign it when you where done sorting everything in the house.

You rush down the stairs, furious and determined to get this over and done with, unsure of how much your heart can handle. Peeking through the living room, you don't see him anywhere, then you catch a glimpse of his brownish hair getting tossed in the wind as he sits on the porch with a cup of coffee, you always did like the way the moonlight danced in his eyes, the way the little garden lights revealed his freckles, oh damn you love his small freckles, that stained his cheeks and his nose, and not too even talk about his perfectly kissable lips. What the hell is wrong with you, your about to divorce that man. You just turn around and walk towards the living room, starting to sort through some stuff.

Getting up out of the wooden chair, holding the mug in his hand, his rough calloused fingers running over the lettering 'M...R' , his eyes squinting as he recalls the day you got that, on your honeymoon.. well that and books, both off you liked too read, but well there weren't much reading done those two weeks, he was too busy exploring every single part of your body. As he peeks into the house, seeing the way your kneeling, looking through what seems to be picture albums, he can't help but to admire the way your body fills out his shirt, the way you've got your hair up with loose strings off hair, framing your beautiful face and neck, a smile tugging at his lips, as he recalls how ticklish you were as he placed loving kisses, sending shivers down your spine. The sound of you giggling always made him feel alive, you made him feel alive, made him feel whole and now, well now his left with a hole in his heart.

Dammit what's the matter with him, his about to divorce that woman, how can he feel this way, is it just the memories, of your shared home, your shared love, why did all of these feelings have to rush back, how is he suppose to just simply act like he wants this, because he sure as hell does not want too loose you, but he loves you too damn much to not give you what you want, a chance too be happy again. So he'll go through with the divorce, knowing both of you said that's what needed to be done, so he just wants this over and done with, he can't stand being in your presence and not kiss you, not hold you, not tell you how much he loves you.

Spending the rest of the hours in an awkward silence, as the two of you sort through the memories that was build. But it's you who breaks the silence, kicking a empty box on the ground "it's 2 in the morning, I'm going to bed"

He's not really sure why he was so irritated by your comment but he started snapping at you "what? we should finish this, now"

Your jaw drops, you roll your eyes "excuse me! I'm tired" you bite your lower lip, but then decide to say it anyway "I'm tired of pretending that it's fine being in the same room as you"

A smirk on his plum lips "oh, its that bad being around me?" 

Crossing your arms in front of you "you said it, I didn't" 

Shaking his head "Woman you are driving me crazy"

"Oh yeah! Well you are driving me insane" you snap back

He strides closer towards you, his deep husky voice "is that the best you can come up with"

Throwing your arms up in the air "why do you want to make me angry" her voice brittle "is this what you want, me breaking down in front off you"

For a few seconds there was a softness in his eyes, but then his jaw hardens again "you have no idea what I want woman"

Enraged now "just leave it, all of this take what you want and give the rest away, I don't give a damn anymore, I'm done, with this, with you, with us, with everything"

He can't help but to examine the way your lips move, when you scream at him, he always did find you very sexy, as you were furious, going on about something, the way your whole body moves as your anger took over you, the way your hips swayed, when you'd explain what he did wrong, but by then you've lost him, he was too busy inspecting every little nose crinkle, every movement you made. Without any warning he cups your face, his lips crashes against yours. When he finally pulls away, both off you trying to catch your breath. For a few seconds you just stood there, your voice breathy "we... we can't do this" you turn around, but he grabs ahold of you, holding you in his arms, your back against his chest, his hot breath by your ear as he whispers "darling, tell me you don't want me, and I'll let you go" it send shivers down your spine. 

Merely a whisper that escapes your lips, "kiss me Beau, as if you never stopped loving me" as his fingers trail down your neck, raking the loose hair away, through the kisses he places down your neck, to your collarbone, his fingers sliding the t-shirt over your shoulder, his lips, trailing against your skin, a low roar escapes his lips "I never did stop loving you darling"

Those words coming from him, makes you turn around, looking up towards his eyes, searching those hazel-green orbs, for any indication, how he truly feels. Placing your hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard underneath your touch, you know you're probably going to regret this in the morning, but your fingers trace down to his lips, as if you want to take in this work of art. Standing on your tippy toes, leaning in so that you can taste his lips, just one more time. 

He claims your lips, as if he was starving, your tongues doing a passionate dance, his right hand holding the back of your neck, and his left hand holds on to your lower back, as he pulls you in even closer, not breaking the kiss once, your hands raking through his hair, as you want him closer, closer than ever before. He pushes you against the wall, tugging at the hem of your shirt, helping him to remove the clothing, through the kisses, and heartbeats racing, his hand roams your body, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, but as he makes his way towards the couch, not breaking the kiss, he knocks over a stack of boxes, making him stumble and come to a fall, you lay on top off him, both of you laughing so hard it echoes through the house, its the first time in a long time that this house have heard so much laughter, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, and as you two lay there on the floor in front of the fire place, exploring each other as if its for the first time, not saying much, just sweet little moans, and whimpers escapes your lips, as your bodies does the talking for you. Not really sure, when but sometime during the early morning hours, both of you have fallen asleep, entangled, skin on skin, wrapped in each other's love. 

You've woken up, by his calloused fingers running up and down your back, your head on his chest, slightly lifting your eyes too study his face, his glancing up towards the ceiling, a smile on his lips, his eyes almost sparkling, as he realizes your awake, he looks down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead, "Morning Darling" you smile as you sweet voice greets him "Morning babe"

He starts laughing a little "so last night happened" you mockingly hit his chest, "Not funny, were supposed to get a divorce" 

He looks at you, eyes filled with love "about that! I don't want to divorce you, I want to be your husband, forever like we vowed" 

Stunned "what! I thought you wanted this"

"No, somewhere during yesterday I realized, I still love, you. No! that's a lie, I never did stop loving you"

A smile forming your lips "Neither did I, I was so frustrated, I wanted you, this , us our house, but I was too afraid to say it."

Sitting upright now, taking you hands in his "Darling, that's what I want, I want us too, we can work it out, we can get through this can't we?"

Pulling the throw, a little tighter over your body, as the crisp morning air, makes you shiver a bit. "Babe I think we can, we should just make time for each other."

Nodding his head, making his longer brownish hair fall in front of his eyes, a smile forming on his plum lips, revealing the age lines around his eyes, "Yes my sweet darling, I agree, but what do you say we tear up those divorce papers, and give the two of us just one more try"

A laugh escapes your lips "Yes, a million times yes. I love you"

Leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, this time, gentle little kisses as, he whispers through the kisses I.... Love... You... Too... Darling"

You can't help but too smile through the kisses knowing your heart aren't homeless no more, your home in your husbands arms. As the two of you come up for some air, you glance at the boxes stacked everywhere, half of the house is packed up, you smile at your husband, "babe, we just have to do one more thing!"

Confused he looks at your beautiful face, "Yes my darling, and will that be."

Laughing now, "we are going too spend over off weekend unpacking and moving back into our home"

A mischievous grin on his face "Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this" 

The two of you burst into laughter, taking in each other, knowing there's a lot of work to do, not just the unpacking but the rebuilding of your lives together. But with your husbands hand interlacing yours, you know that it's possible, anything is possible, with the person you love the most, by your side, ready to fight for your marriage and content in knowing you love each other, you sat there with your head resting on his chest, as you watch the fire place , the way the flames dances in a fiery passion after it's ignited, brings you nope, knowing, just one more try is all you need.  

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (44)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). This chapter is short because it's a filler one. Next couple of one might be as well.

All the boys in the camp turned their heads the moment you came stomping in with Yunho behind you. They raised their brows at each other when they saw the scolding look on your face, wondering if it would be a smart idea to ask what was going on.

“Hey, Darling. Where were y'all?” San was the one who had the courage to ask.

“Hendrick has my dad in prison.” You sighed, shoulder dropping as all the tension left your body the moment you saw all the boys. 

“Why?” Mingi asked.

“They are accusing him of being the one to take the money from city hall. They're also thinking we were the ones who did it.” Yunho explained to them, crossing his arms. 

“They're going to come looking for us again?” Wooyoung questioned, looking around.

They knew it was best to leave town for a bit and go into hiding. However, that was before they thought about sending a manhunt for specific people. Things would change if that was the case for the group. 

No matter how many times you were able to break someone out of prison, you would still be coming back to help the people of the town. Even if you did take the money this time, who’s to say that Klein wouldn’t just raise the taxes again to collect the money back? Quaid was still going to be there whispering things into the mayor’s ear.

“No.” You spoke up, looking at them all with your head raised. “We'll go to them.” You said

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you oddly. 

“It doesn't matter if we take the money and give it back.” You explained. “So long as Quaid is here he'll keep taking the money. He's the one who brought in Sciencslaver. We have to cut the weeds from the roots.”

“Princess is right.” Hongjoong spoke up, coming out from the main tent. 

“Captain it won't matter if we don't stop Strickland.” Jongho told him. “They'll just keep sending more goons.”

“Then we have a while to plan for our next heist.” Hongjoong grinned at his members. “For now we can save this town from them.” 

“We've done this before. It's nothing new. You all already know how it goes.” He shrugged it off like it was nothing. 

“What did we get from the homes?” Yunho asked.

“From Quaid's house we found letters to Z.” Yeosang explained. “They talk about how stupid the mayor here is and how easy it was to manipulate them. He also has some letters between Hendricks. The sheriff knows about Strickland.” He added.

“How can we get them both out then?” Seonghwa asked. “Klein has nothing to do with it obviously.”

“We should go to him first and reveal everything.” You spoke up.

“You think he'll listen?” San raised a brow.

“He's an idiot as Quaid says.” You pursed your lips. “I don't think it'll be hard to make him see what he's been doing.”

“How do we get Hendricks to resign?” Wooyoung questioned. 

Your lips twitched at the mention of that man. For as long as you could remember you never really had any bad blood with him. Only had the chance to watch him from afar during church hours and the likes. You never really paid attention to the way he did his job. You didn’t bother to get involved with those kinds of affairs obviously. 

You did hear gossip rumors from the saloon’s patrons though. How they heard that the sheriff would take bribes to keep from giving the rich tickets or taking their taxes. It wasn’t your business–not until he came to arrest you for someone mistaking you as a criminal. 

And maybe you were one now, but it was for a good cause. Back then you were saving that girl, and she understood what you did at that point. She understood what it was like to be in that position with nothing else to do. She had been thankful you were there to save her but she regretted saying anything with how the sheriff seemed to have twisted her words. It wasn’t her fault but you knew there was something wrong with Hendricks that day.

“We will have to ask Klein for help. I'm sure he has dirt on the man.” You answered. 

“I never trusted him.” Jongho sneered. 

“No one did.” Yeosang retorted. 

“We have to move now.” Hongjoong got up, getting his gun ready. “I'm positive Quaid has caught on and will be skipping town soon. Have to catch him before he can leave.” He locks his pistol into place, giving all of you a glance. 

“Doll, you're gonna need to keep your family safe.” Mingi mentioned. “If they have your dad in custody they'll probably try to get them to tell them things. Bring them here for now.” He told you.

You suddenly remember how your father told you to take care of them. To run from the town with the boys and your family. But you couldn’t just leave him behind when he wasn’t the one who did it. It had been you and your family was caught up in your problems. 

The boys knew what it was like to feel guilty for dragging others down into your own problems. They had brought so many people down in their mistakes–caused some to lose things that meant so much to them–but in the end they knew good things had come from them. They understood that in order to make things right there were going to be something that would go wrong. It was for the greater good, they would tell themselves. 

But in this moment they had the chance of saving your family and keeping them from getting hurt. It was best to do what they could to keep you from feeling worse than you already did. You meant a lot to them and they would rather loose than see you upset over something that happened in their watch. 

“Okay.” You sighed.

“We'll keep them safe.” Hongjoong walked up to you, bringing your head forward to place your forehead against his. “You have my word.”

“It's not them I'm worried about.” You whispered, pulling back to look Hongjoong in the eye. 

“Like I said. We've done this a bunch of times. We know how things go now.” The captain grinned. 

You trusted them wholeheartedly, to the point that you were sure if they asked you to do something you would. You knew your family was more than safe in their care. Even if they were going to be with you the whole time, you were sure they would keep your family in a place where no harm would come to them. Not on their watch. 

You didn’t know what they had planned up their sleeves–you honestly didn’t even know what you were going to do. But you knew that you had one thing on your mind and that was to take your father out of prison. And to do that you had to get to Hendricks first. Your anger towards him was what fueled your passion to reach what you needed. 

And you were more than ready with the boys standing behind you. 

“Let's go.” 

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

[jewish-song-of-the-day]

Jewish Album of the Week: Simu Lev

Y'ALL

It's finally out!! Simu Lev is here, and it's exactly as amazing as I'd hoped!!!

Please listen to this and enjoy this with me, I promise you won't regret it!!!

[mikachacha]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 5

Synopsis: You finally left Bada for good but you're struggling to get back on your feet.

Warnings: mentions of depression, angst, bullying, cursing

(A/N: y'all this has been such an emotional journey for all of us and i really thank you guys for the support you've given 🫶🫶)

| Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You arrived in the states and it felt like you were nothing but a shell of the person you used to be. You talked to your family and they were amazing support system for you. You were slowly trying to heal but there were times that felt like time stood still and you're paralyzed in the moment of grief and sorrow from what Bada put you through for months. You'd often find yourself crying yourself to sleep, questioning why that happened to you and what went wrong that made your relationship turn like that. You always blamed yourself for everything went wrong until your family intervened and told you to get into therapy.

You were reluctant at first but it turned out it was everything you needed. All you ever wanted and all you ever needed was for someone to listen to you, for someone to tell you that your feelings are valid and important. It felt like you were slowly coming back to life after months. You slowly bounced back, started going out, made friends and even went on a few dates but nothing way too serious as you're making sure you're emotionally available for this next person you'll love. You didn't want the next person to feel like you're still being held back by your past and that you're only using them to move on. You don't want them to go through the same pain as you have gone through.

Bada on the other hand has drowned herself with work as she didn't want to remember you and all the things she did to you. She regretted everything, the guilt is eating her alive. All you did was love her, all you did was care for her but she played with you, she took advantage of your kindness, your love, your vulnerability. She took you for granted and she knows she won't ever have you back considering all the things that happened between you and her but she's still hoping, wishing and praying that she sees you one more time and tell you how sorry she is for doing everything she did.

She was linked to different people, some celebrities and some were not but she didn't date anyone after you. She didn't trust herself to get into another relationship. She's scared of doing the same thing she did to you. She heard from your friends and family that you're going through therapy and it took you a year to be remotely okay. When Bada heard, she broke down in the studio. She was crying from guilt and self loathing. She hated herself, still hates herself for doing those to you. Oh how she wishes she can turn back time and make things right but she knows she can't. She can only hope and pray that you'll be okay, and that maybe someday she'll be able to speak to you and ask for forgiveness.

Three years has passed and you were back in Korea but this time for a job. You were hired as a translator for Jam Republic, an international group who's been invited to participate in the second season of Street Woman Fighter 2. Your family were a bit hesitant to let you go back considering what happened three years ago but you told them that you'll be okay. You have forgiven Bada and have forgiven yourself as it was something that happened and you had no control over it. You wanted to move forward in your life though there's still an ache in your heart whenever your thoughts drift to Bada. If only things didn't go that way, if only things didn't go bad between you, you would've been celebrating three years together, maybe got married along the way like how you planned it together before.

"Be safe there, alright? Talk to us if you need anything.." your mom says as they sent you off to the airport. You hugged your parents tight and nodded your head. You grabbed your bags before getting in the cab that will take you to the airport. You're hoping that with your return, Korea gives you better memories than the memories you had three years prior.

You met with the girls and they were amazing. It felt like you just gained yourself sisters. Ling and Kirsten were the motherly type, Latrice is the fun middle child while Emma and Audrey are sweet yet chaotic youngsters. You're having fun with your work, everyone's great and everything's going well. You were running around, doing errands the studio as the filming for Street Woman Fighter is starting. You were way too busy that you accidentally bumped someone, your papers falling to the ground. You rushed to pick it up and the person did the same. Only when you saw the tattoo on their arm made your chest ache and for your heart to race like you were running a hundred miles per second. You wanted to speak but it felt like that there's a lump in your throat that's preventing you. You thought you were finally okay after years of therapy but all the emotions came rushing back, hitting you like a tidal wave when you realized who the person is that's helping you pick up papers. It was Bada.

———;

@lil-elliesgf @efyyylee @hwm1hyun @mikaleialt @bunnywonyo @badaswifey @mrs-grim-reaper @b1ackbunny @wifey-badalee

[tellmegoodbye]

-> Music Monday

We're back!!

The playlists and docs have been updated with the submissions from last week. Go give them a listen!

Daylight - Shinedown

I was diagnosed with a fear of getting too close Had to tell the ones I love, I was on the ropes

It's amazing what the hard times can reveal Like who shows up, who walks away, and who's for real

You saved my life, not once but twice You keep me free from falling You saved my life, make it all alright When I don't feel like talking You make sure I always see the daylight

To me, this song encapsulates the relationships between everyone on the show. It's about the people who lift you up and have your back no matter what.

Fade In / Fade Out - Nothing More

Just the other day I looked at my father It was the first time I saw he'd grown old Canyons through his skin and the rivers that made them carve the stories I was told

He said, "Son, I have watched you fade in, you will watch me fade out When the grip leaves my hand, I know you won't let me down Go and find your way, leave me in your wake Always push through the pain, and don't run away from change Never settle, make your mark Hold your head up, follow your heart"

When the morning comes and takes me I promise I have taught you everything that you need In the night you'll dream of so many things But find the ones that bring you life and you'll find me

This is an emotional one, y'all. Firstly, I implore you all to check out the music video for this song. Bring tissues!

This song reminds me of Carlos and Gabriel. It's about a father and son that have a complicated relationship and grow apart as they get older. In the end they get to a point where they want to reconcile, but unfortunately, it's too late. However, the father knows his son is going to go achieve great things. It's bittersweet, yet hopeful.

Moondust - Jaymes Young

I'm building this house, on the moon Like a lost astronaut Looking at you like a star From the place the world forgot And there's nothing that I can do Except bury my love for you

Yeah, I'm living far away, on the face of the moon I've buried my love to give the world to you

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love in the moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love in the moondust

This is the ultimate breakup-era song! Carlos is trying to build his life and his home while loving TK from afar. He knows he may have to let him go, and he'll bury his love if that's what it takes for them both to move on and for TK to find happiness.

Time - NF

That's when I look at you and tell you I'd be better alone Just the pride talkin', isn't it? 'Cause both of us know I'm the definition of "wreck" if you look into my soul Comes out the most when I feel I'm in a vulnerable place Made a lot of mistakes I wish I knew how to erase When I'm afraid, might get distant and I push you away But no matter the case, I'ma do whatever it takes

Yeah, way before I bought you the ring We were fighting back and forth like you were wearin' the thing Two passionate people not afraid to say what they think Lead to passionate conversation when it's hard to agree

And I know it hurts knowing that I carry this weight on my chest Making it difficult for me to open up and connect Lot of regrets, I apologize for all of the stress That's not what I meant to do, you know I love you to death

Even if we both break down tonight And you say you hate me, and we go to bed angry I know everything will be alright I'll be here waiting, I promise I'm changing I just need time

Time is a very universal song when it comes to relationships. It's about recognizing your own issues and working on them, not only for yourself but in order to be a better partner. This is what TK and Carlos do every day.

Tags!

@strandnreyes @goodways @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @lemonlyman-dotcom

@carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @literateowl @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos

@welcometololaland @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @theghostofashton

@goldenskykaysani @freneticfloetry @eclectic-sassycoweyes @whatsintheboxmh @honeybee-taskforce

@messymindofmine @fandomswonderland @kiwichaeng @reeeallygood @toomanycupsoftea

@firstprince-history-huh @fitzherbertssmolder @safeaswrites @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

[kiwiana-writes]

Your top three comfort fics are all so good…but they’re all also pretty popular. What about a top three under 300 kudos👀

I am SO INTO what you're putting down here, anon... except for the fact that I can't fucking sort my bookmarks by kudos 🤣 so this took a little longer than I expected! I've split the RWRB fics into two: ones published this year that might just be low because people haven't had the chance to read yet, and ones from 2023 and earlier that are hidden gems. Also, please check out my Five Under 500 List from the end of October, because a couple of those are still under 300 and they are all ABSOLUTELY WORTH A READ.

Once again in no particular order:

Top 3 under 300: Red White & Royal Blue (published 2024)

Going Stag by @cicigreen03 - SERIOUSLY an underrated gem and I have no idea why, y'all are MISSING OUT. Alex is hosting Liam and Spencer's bachelor party at the lake house, Spencer's douchey colleague Hunter invites himself along... and brings his boyfriend. You'll NEVER guess who the boyfriend is.

you were more than just a short time by @hypnostheory - MIND. THE. TAGS. But this is absolutely, one thousand percent worth the pain.

Paper Chains by @myheartalivewrites - y'all I tried to do the thing where I quote specific lines from this fic to scream about and I could not bring myself to stop reading long enough to do so. It is an INCREDIBLE journey and one you won't regret going on.

Top 3 under 300: Red White & Royal Blue (published 2023 and earlier)

Spoke Love to Soul by @celaestis1 - honestly my eyes glazed past this as I was skimming down my bookmarks list because I just ASSUMED it would have way more kudos but???? I LOVE a mythical retelling as evidenced by the Orpheus and Eurydice WIP in my folder and this one is STUNNING. A true, true treasure.

Sip You Like Cosmic Juice by @sparklepocalypse - okay listen this one's sitting on EXACTLY 300 so I'm squeaking in while it still applies but: RUGBY THIGHS. That is all.

I want to play a game by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf - Listen it's not a secret that my love of Saw (especially the first one) is like half my personality, so this may not be MARKED as a gift for me but in my heart I tell myself it is 🤣

Top 3 under 300: Schitt's Creek

Town Hall Meeting #5,204 by the_hodag - Genuinely incapable. of reading this without laughing hysterically, actually

The Midpoint by @roguebebe - The roguest baby's first fic and fucking HELL it's stunning. Chock full of Patrick and Stevie feelings, my favourite kind.

You Can Ring My Bell by @designatedgrape - A 5+1 from the POV of the bell over the door at Rose Apothecary, which naturally means it's actually extremely tender and sweet

And as a bonus because why the fuck not...

My favourite fic of mine under 300 kudos

For RWRB it is of course Empty your heart of its mortal dream, fae prince Henry my beloved.

For Schitt's Creek there's absolutely no question: Time until the end of time, the afterlife fic I co-wrote with @ships-to-sail aka a 65,000 word treatise on grief, growth, and our effects on the people around us.

[Sleepover Saturday]

[jazzycurls]

Entanglements

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, Steve x fem!Reader

Summary: You have a secret that will destroy your marriage. You've been cheating on your husband with his best friend.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Cheating and smut (let me know if I missed something)

❤️ 200 + Follower Celebration ❤️

An: Hi, you guys! I just want to tell y'all how much I appreciate the love and support you guys have given me. All of the likes, comments, reblogs, and follows have made this such a great experience for me. I started this thinking that my writing wasn't good enough. You guys have helped boost my confidence in ways I can't even explain! So, to show my appreciation I wanted to give you guys a short fic that's been on my mind for a while. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Love you guys, and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 1,313

"I can't do this anymore," you whisper against his neck as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. His lips silence yours in a needy kiss that made you hungry for more. Every swipe of his tongue stokes the fire growing between your legs.

His arms tighten around your waist lifting you into the air. Your legs immediately wrap around him, a reaction that was familiar but felt new at the same time.

"Tell me to stop and I will." His strong hands maneuver you over his length, as he grinds up into your heat. A moan falls from your lips instead and he captures it with another wet kiss. Walking you over to your bed, he lowers you onto it gently, following you soon after. The bed you bought with your husband, you're now laying in with another man. The thought alone should be enough to make you want to stop but it doesn't. You've long since passed the point of no return, so far over the line that you can't even see it anymore.

You won't make any excuses, you know it's wrong but the simple fact is that you're in love with two people. The love you have for them both is different but equal in measure.

"This is wrong," you whimper as a tear falls down your face. He stops his movements to look at you "Do you want me to stop," he whispers, leaning close to your face. His hair shields you both, curtaining you from the outside world and your dirty deeds.

He presses a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth, asking you a second time when you don't answer. It's the same tune every time but he always listens, giving you the opportunity to back out whenever you want, but you never do.

He feels just as badly as you do. His betrayal to his best friend is something that will never be forgiven. It wasn't his intention to fall in love with you, he never wanted to invade in someone else's marriage. But if he were honest, he would say it was fate. He had met you first, had fallen for you first but luck was not on his side and you ended up with his friend instead. It was something that he deeply regretted and had never gotten over.

You don't answer, choosing instead to grab his neck, bringing him down to you. Your lips glide over his and he nips at your lip, playfully tugging it into his mouth. You wrap your legs around him and he stands up, taking you with him.

His fingers dip into the cotton of your panties, finding the fabric completely soaked. He teases your entrance as he slides his fingers up and down your slit, collecting the slick pooled there.

You whimper out needily, your eyes pleading as he presses your back up against the wall. "Please, I need you. I can't wait anymore," you beg as your cunt flutters expectantly.

"Fuck baby, say that again," he urges as he rubs his tip against your slick folds. He gasps in surprise as your wetness coats him generously. "Jesus Christ, so wet," he mutters, feeling his resolve break. He's just as desperate as you are and is ready to bury himself deep inside of you.

"I need you," you moan and that is enough for him as he quickly drives his length into you, up to the hilt. He doesn't waste any time as he pulls out quickly, pushing back in as he kisses you as if you belong to him and only him. In these moments he allows himself to pretend that you are his and he is yours.

Your essence drips along his length and down to his balls as he bounces you on his dick. His mouth is on yours, swallowing every filthy moan you give when he hears the distinct sound of the front door opening and closing. You hear it too as you both go silently still.

"Honey are you home?" Steve calls out. Fear is in your eyes as you push against his chest in an attempt for him to let go of you. Eddie hesitates, the temptation of getting caught and ending all of the sneaking around is tempting. He's tired of all of the lies, no longer wanting to share you anymore. He knows that things haven't been good between you and Steve for a long time. You both deserve a second chance at love and a chance at happiness.

You look at Eddie and know what he's thinking without him having to say it. "Please Eddie," you beg as you hear Steve moving around downstairs.

Eddies let out a small huff before setting you down gently. You both scramble, putting on your clothes as fast as you can. He has on his pants and one arm through his shirt when he hears Steve walking up the stairs.

You open up the window quietly and Eddie slips out, leaning back in and giving you a quick kiss before climbing down to the lower half of the roof and jumping down.

Steve's turning the knob when you see Eddie's shoes near the bed. You kick them underneath the bed as you walk over to Steve meeting him with a kiss as he opens the door.

"Hey hunny," he says sweeping you up into a hug. He presses a quick kiss to your lips before lowering you back down to the ground. "I missed you, I left work early just to be with you," he says as he presses his nose into your hair, smelling the sweet scent of your shampoo.

"I missed you too," you reply as guilt lies heavy in your stomach and you feel sick. No, you really feel sick, you realize as you push away from Steve and run into your conjoined bathroom. You make it to the toilet in time as the contents of your stomach empty out.

Steve enters the bathroom on your heels and holds your hair as you lean over the porcelain bowl. "Are you okay," he asks once you are able to respond.

You lean back, wiping the back of your hand across your mouth and you nod your head yes. "You're not pregnant are you" he jokes as he helps you to your feet.

Your laugh is cut short when you realize that you are indeed late. Your last period was about five weeks ago, you were certain because that was the same week Steve was out of town for work.

Eddie had kept you company the entire time, and the both of you had stayed holed up in a hotel that entire week. Your blood runs cold as you realize that you're pregnant and your husband isn't the father.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

1K Followers Celebration!!!

UM HI?!? YOU GUYS, WHAT THE FUCK?! I don't know where the hell all y'all gathered from to come listen to my ramblings, but I cannot express how grateful I am for each and every one of you- I know I've said this before, and I'll say it again, but when I first posted the first few chapters of NTL on a whim a few months ago, I truly thought nothing would ever come of it. The fact that there are so many of you who have read this story, let alone enjoy it and come back for more means more to me than you'll ever know. I love all of you so much, thanks for coming along with me on this crazy ride, because I wouldn't be here without you 😭🫶🏻💕

OKAY SAPPY MOMENT OVER, LET'S GET TO THE FUN STUFF 🤪

I thought it would be fun to celebrate 1K to do some fun asks! You guys always are giving me great ideas for things and I love your input (it's the relentless people pleaser in me) but I figured I would let y'all ask away with some fun NTL/Javi and Osita/Personal questions!!! Send me anything from this list (or anything else you can think of) and I'll answer!! I'll keep my asks open for the next few days 😎

I love all of you so so SO much, big forehead kisses and hugs to each and every one of you 🥹💕

*Answered questions/responses are linked!*

Javi and Osita

What's their favorite thing about each other?

What's the thing that annoys them the most about the other?

Their favorite places/things to do when they go on a date? (besides sex, that will get its own question(s), don't worry LOL)

Favorite outfit the other wears?

What they wear on a normal day?

What they were like as kids?

Favorite book/movie/TV show?

Javi's least favorite school related activity Osita asks him to help with?

What did they study in college/favorite subject in school growing up?

Are they morning or night people?

What they admire the most about each other?

What's their biggest insecurity?

What are their bad habits?

What are their biggest regrets?

Biggest fears for the future?

Favorite thing to do with each other?

Each other's non-sexual turn ons?

Each other's sexual turn ons?

Things that are hard nos for them during sex?

Favorite place to have sex?

Favorite position(s)?

How they can tell that they know the other is horny/wants to have sex?

Realistically, how many kids do they actually want? (I know, I know, at this rate they'd have 47 children)

They both really don't care, but do they hope that their kids are girls, boys or a mix of both?

Generally, what will they be like as parents?

You pick, ask me any question you can think of that isn't on here!

NTL Universe (Tell me yours answers or I can tell you mine!)

What's your favorite chapter?

What's your favorite drabble/one-shot?

What's your least favorite chapter/one-shot (I promise I won't be offended hahah)

Who's your favorite character?

Who's your least favorite character?

What's your favorite smut scene?

What's smut you've already seen from NTL and want more of?

What's smut you haven't seen yet that you want?

What's something you want to see happen in the future? (places they go, situations they find themselves in, etc...)

Characters you want to see more/less of?

Give a summary of the next chapter/one-shot you're working on

Ask me something about a thing that hasn't happened yet in NTL and I'll give you a spoiler for it (I'll tag it so if you don't want to see it you won't!)

Ask me something that isn't on here!

Personal Questions

What do I picture Osita looking like?

What has been my favorite part about writing NTL?

What's been my least favorite part?

Where/when do I normally write?

Madeline, how actually self indulgent is Osita?

Are there any characters that were inspired by people I know?

Does anyone in my life know I write NTL?

How would I describe my personality?

Weird fun fact about me?

Why is Javi my favorite Pedro character?

What other jobs did I consider before going into teaching?

What other things do I do for fun besides write?

I'm an open book, you can ask ya girl pretty much anything!