salsa123
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“Santos, I-” Langdon started.
“Save it. It’s not the first time I’ve been chewed out for something that isn’t my fucking fault.” She snapped, voice raised to try and disguise the tremble of it. Oh how she longed for him to argue back, let her direct all the fucking embarrassment and shame and hurt away from the lump in her throat and outwards. See if she cares about blowing up at her workplace, let them discipline her.
or
Santos learns she has people in her corner, whether she believes it or not
Bookmarked by salsa123
13 May 2026
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Baran has no one to watch after her son while she works a double shift, Trinity offers.
Bookmarked by salsa123
12 May 2026
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"It's close to 10PM, they both have work in the morning, so she's about to quit the app and turn off her phone when she sees a random post from a random person that she's sure she's never followed before.
It just says 'strapwarming'. No context, no explanation. The poster was not worth noting. Just that one word, but the effect to Baran's gut is akin to an uppercut.
The thought of a strap inside her, unmoving and unrelenting for hours, with Trinity's low groans and pants reaching her ears while she sits on top of them and doing nothing makes her feel a little insane."
Bookmarked by salsa123
12 May 2026
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my meager words and courage, gathered up for you by 2cartograph
Fandoms: 不恋爱就完蛋了 | Love Curse: Find Your Soulmate (Visual Novel)
29 Apr 2025
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“I promised to be with you, but it still hurts to know you’ll never truly be mine. The world will never know about us.” Selene gives a bitter laugh. “My only comfort is knowing that you were mine first. That I touched you first. No one else can take that away.”
Victoria’s face crumples. The hollow look in her eyes is gone now, their frozen state having thawed into violet pools of heartache and regret.
Or: Selene and Victoria’s relationship in the aftermath of Victoria’s bad ending.
Bookmarked by salsa123
11 May 2026
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The last letter Francesca received from Michaela had arrived six months ago. The first she had thrown away; after that, she could not imagine reading the ones that followed, not when she had not read the first.
But the last one had arrived on a cold, lonely day. Francesca had brought it to her room, sunk onto the bed, and held it in both hands. She had smelled it. Stared at the handwriting. Wondered whether it contained the answers she sought. Why Michaela had left. Where she was. Whom she was meeting and speaking to. But if she read it, she might have to reply, and she could not imagine replying without spilling herself in ink. I thought of you today and yesterday. I will think of you tomorrow. I wish I did not, but I cannot help it. Please, come back. I am waiting for you.
Bookmarked by salsa123
09 May 2026