#also couldn't think of anything better so here we go

[just-sg]

If the community doesn't welcome "cis men", then it excludes transmascs who pass or at bare minimum sends a message that the goal they worked so hard to achieve has made them less welcome in spaces that once supported them, actively punishing them for transitioning. It forces transfems to out themselves, which can be especially dangerous. It forces nonbinary amabs who can't or don't want to change their presentation to out themselves and sends a message that nonbinary people owe you androgyny or visual non-conformity. And if you think you can gauge any of these things by looking at someone, you're not doing the community any favors.

If the community doesn't welcome cis men, it excludes gay men. If men are welcome only when in a relationship with another man/person who reads enough like "a man", it excludes bi/pan/etc men and sends a message that what relationship they're in Right Now determines whether or not they're Queer Enough, you know, one of the core tenets of biphobia and erasure.

If the community doesn't welcome cis men, it excludes men all over the ace and aro spectrums. :) And yes actually, the heterosexual aromantic straw-man does deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. IF he's treating his partners like shit, then we judge him for that behavior, but queer people can be douchebags with shit views and we don't get to say they're not still queer. And if the het-aro dude is instead communicating honestly and being respectful-- a thing I promise is fully possible for humans to do-- then guess what, assuming he couldn't possibly be a decent person is just arophobia and maybe a side of puratinism.

Anyone questioning their identity, anyone who isn't actively questioning yet but later will, guys about to experience bi panic, transfem eggs who haven't clocked anything about themselves yet. Their early exposure to queer spaces being a hostile one is not going to help anyone, and can easily actively discourage people. We also need to be welcoming of supportive partners, siblings, parents, friends, etc, especially in cases where a queer person is disabled or otherwise has trouble going places on their own, or for helping ease anxiety in virtual spaces, etc.

Listen.

The nature of Being A Man is not and has never been the problem. And as much as some of you don't want to hear it, and as much as it fucking sucks and is objectively unfair when it does involve men who are participating in and benefiting from oppression, trying to turn the tables is never going to be an effective strategy. It's "not fair" that it's more dangerous for women to walk alone at night either but you hopefully wouldn't advocate against carrying mace on the basis no one "should" need it. Whether something is fair and whether it's true are not the same thing.

You cannot Get Revenge against a whole huge portion of the human population, and when you actively threaten or ostracize people, (a) you're mirroring the very thing you fight against, but (b) it makes people defensive!!! Some allocishet dudes would get defensive anyway at the idea of not being on top of the ladder anymore, but giving them more fuel won't change that. Dudes who'd have that kneejerk reaction but could be reasoned with won't be if no one bothers to try, or oftentimes even if someone bothers but it's immensely overshadowed with hostility. And people who were already allies can actively be pushed out and turned against the cause. (Not to mention perpetuating in-fighting.)

You catch more flies with honey, I'm sorry. And yes, we do need allies. Perpetuating the "us vs them" mentality helps no one, patriarchy does not target men in the same or as many ways as women but it is also harmful to many, and we will always have a better chance of fixing any system when we have people working for the cause inside and out. People using their positions of privilege to help provide extra leverage and voice to those with less privilege is always going to be desirable overall.

Even mainstream media writers throwing in crumbs of badly handled representation isn't without some merit, if only for proving it's not illegal and won't destroy sales to have Anything At All, which couldn't be said mere decades ago; if only for normalizing that queer people exist even the tiniest bit more. But just, normal people going about their normal lives. Just every random man who will frown at their coworker's homophobic joke and give a simple "not cool dude". Those little things adding up are important. When people hate you, it's easy to ignore you standing up for yourself, and harder to ignore people they like also standing up for you.

Cis queer men are not your enemy. Amabs who "read" cis to you and don't want to out themselves are not your enemy. Bi men who happen to be in relationships with women are not your enemy. Straight male partners of queer women are not your enemy! Allo cishet dudes married to allo cishet women with no queer kids or siblings or anything are not your enemy, not if they're behaving like friends.

People operating on ignorance, especially to a point of willful ignorance because they don't 'have' to deal with it, can be enemies-- inaction in the face of oppression is taking the side of oppressors, and all-- but even they're like... minion enemies if that makes sense. (That goes for men, women, questioning folks or folks who are definitively queer but don't feel like Part Of The Community, etc, to be clear.) It's not your personal job to educate every person, but when you can afford to, taking no shit but remaining civil will leave someone else a better chance of getting through to them. Picking a nasty drawn-out fight with that jackass on Twitter won't fix homophobia but may well increase his devotion to the enemy cause.

Prioritizing defense isn't always an option and I'm not saying it is. Sometimes you need whole riots to make a point, but even that involves group effort, and often times lashing out in your personal daily life can do more harm than good. THIS SUCKS. OF COURSE IT SUCKS. But it's a matter of the big picture. It's not about letting people "get away with" anything, it's about expressing disapproval in a calmer and more casual manner while trying to minimize anything they could twist into an excuse to be worse.

And that's with people who ARE actively shitty, the ones more casual and micro-aggressive about it but still ultimately against us. Lashing out pre-emptively on the assumption that people would be shitty does a lot more harm and no longterm good.

People joke about The Gay Agenda but honestly, yeah. The Agenda is ultimately for the queer community as a whole to be accepted, have the same rights and protections as anyone else, to end oppression, etc, right? Sometimes that's gonna mean dealing with being uncomfortable or uncertain or even biting your tongue in the name of forwarding the Agenda. Especially when it's literally about acceptance within our own communities. How can we reasonably expect everyone else to accept us if we're struggling to accept each other?

i don't care how uncomfortable you are around cis men, queer cis men still need places to go, and sometimes, those spaces will be shared with yours. disabled and neurodivergent queer men and queer men of color especially need a place to go. the queer community isn't the "fuck cis men" community. that is the rad fem community. if you think cis men and people who read as cis men are inherently "too scary" or shouldn't be allowed in queer spaces, you joined the wrong community.

[whimsybats]

Task Force 141 x Batmom!Reader (Pt. 1?)

crossover AU

platonic Task Force 141 x batmom!reader x batfam

Bruce Wayne x Reader

(this is my first time writing headcanons on here or anywhere so I'm so sorry if it sucks LOL I might be adding more parts to this later/making it a series of headcanons? I need to get used to writing characters and their personalities, any tips would be appreciated!)

Batmom!Reader who was brought into the events of MW1 under Laswell's command.

I'd imagine she'd have become a Lieutenant. Prior to the events of MW1 she might've worked with Ghost a few times.

She assisted Gaz and Price in Piccadilly. With her medical skills and tactics she made an impression on both of them securing her place in 141 as the resident medic.

Her alias is up to you! (ex; Soap, Ghost, Gaz etc.)

I'd imagine she met Bruce pre-robin era after Piccadilly and assisted with an evacuation while he was Batman, despite his multiple attempts to get her out as well.

He then likely looked her up on the computer in the Batcave, intrigued. Bruce noticed her military background, seeing her involvement with Piccadilly among other events in her career, it made sense.

"Lieutenant (L/N)..." Bruce eyed the computer in interest.

"Another one of your... projects Master Bruce?"

"Something like that I guess."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ��

Eventually you met as Bruce and (Y/n) and had gotten married along the way with having adopted your kids.

When you found out Bruce was Batman, you weren't too shocked, seeing as one of your teammates literally code name is Ghost and also dresses... in a similar scary fashion.

One by one he met your team. They each took their turns interrogating him, Price and Ghost the most. They had to make sure he treated their teammate well after all.

Alfred and Price got along well, likely bonding over their shared paternal figure roles and SAS backgrounds.

Soap and Gaz likely bond well with Dick and Jason.

I'm fairly certain Stephanie and Soap would make a great duo. They would so play pranks around the manor, one time they messed with Ghost maybe messing with his gear like his mask or something (maybe making it something cute instead of scary idk LOL) and he couldn't find his backup, so he had to go around in some cute cat balaclava or something.

Ghost might give them some jump scares once in a while, maybe standing in the corner like Drax when they realize some of their equipment is jammed only giving them a eerie smile under his mask and leaving them to figure out some of their own equipment was replaced with water guns or something.

You might end up having to defuse potential fights between Ghost and Bruce reminding you of Bruce's old fights with Jason.

Speaking of Jason... he and Kyle might try to "one up" each other but neither thinking that anything can really beat being revived straight from a Lazarus Pit.

"Ever fallen out of a helicopter... twice?" Gaz smirked.

"Nah, but you ever try dying?" Jason asked in response earning widened eyes from Gaz.

"You serious mate?"

"More than I'd like to admit," he shrugged, "but hey, more to hold over B's head the better."

"Bloody hell... Gotham is insane."

"Takes one to know one, or something like that."

---

Okay so we know Ghost likes to throw in an occasional joke but imagine he'd pull one in front of your kids.

"What do you call a soldier who loves to paint?" he asked Damian who simply looked up at him and glared with Jason right behind him.

"An art-illery master," queue the complaining from Jason and an eye twitch from Damian.

Bruce often gets more stressed whenever you're on the field, somehow he always finds a way to sneak into the comms and make sure your okay on a private line.

"Bruce I'm fine," you grunted as you took down an enemy, "let me speak to my damn Captain."

"...No."

"B..." you sighed, "I'll make sure this mission is done as quick as possible. Just go take care of the kids for me."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"I love you- now give me back my line to Price."

He mutters a "love you too" before cutting the line.

"What the hell was that Lieutenant?" Price asked on a private line with you and 141.

"My dumb husband," you rolled your eyes. (This would likely be when they know Bruce is Batman to avoid confusion)

Soap would whistle on the comms "Someone misses their missus huh?"

"Don't push it Johnny."

----

tag list: @otterluver05 @sad-girl09

please feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged for any upcoming fics related to this crossover!

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

gender: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[666anxiety666]

if you could write anything with lee! curly that would be amazing!! maybe with Anya or Daisuke as a ler? no pressure of course

have a nice day!!

Why not both? 🤔 also thought I'd combine the other ask that's at the bottom 🙏

cheater!

Mouthwashing tickle fic

Lee: Curly Ler: Ayan and Daisuke

so tonight's board game night was going... just great, to say the least. Swansea and Jimmy had already gone to bed. not wanting to put with what they had seemingly predicted what would happen.

"i rolled a two so I moved two spots forward!" Daisuke exclaimed, his eyes locked on an annoyed looking Anya. "no! i saw you move three steps, you cheater!" Anya argued back. between the two was Curly, the poor man being stuck between the twos bickering. "guys, please..." Curly sighed. "Curly! you saw me move two spots, right?" "no! i saw you move three!" it was going to be a long night...

"guys, come on, i didn't see anyone doing anything. can't we just play... peacefully for once...?" curly asked with a nervous smile. he had been watching the two argue like this for the past half an hour since the game started. he knew it would've went like this when he agreed to play with the two...

Anya and Daisuke turned to look at Curly. "Captain! you're not even gonna defend me?" Daisuke exclaimed. "there's nothing to defend, you cheated!" Anya snapped back. Curly sighed. "anyway, its my turn..." Curly picked up the dice and rolled, he got a six, so he moved six spots forward. "oh, i won..." Curly released. a smile spreading onto his face.

"what?! that's not- how??" Daisuke sat up in disbelief. Anya also sat up in disbelief. Curly chuckled a little. "uh, i rolled a six...?" he explained. "you couldn't have! you were more that six stops away from the end!" "yeah! you couldn't have won!" the two younger crewmates argued. Curly chuckled again. "sorry Guys, maybe instead of arguing, maybe focus on getting better at the game." Curly shrugged with a little smugness in his tone.

Anya and Daisuke looked at each other, then back at the man between them. "really?" Curly blinked, thinking he had actually upset them. he opened his mouth to say something, but Anya cut him off. "you wanna know what i think?" Anya asked. "I think you cheated, don't you Daisuke?" "oh, definitely!" Curly could hear the almost playfulness in their tones.

"G-Guys, i didn't cheat!" Curly tried to explain. "you both know I-" Curly was cut off when he felt a poke on his side. the culprit? Daisuke. Curly jumped, turning to Daisuke, who ad the biggest shit eating grin on his face. "Daisuke, what-" but curly was cut off yet again when Anya pounced. instantly attacking his sides. Daisuke joining in almost instantly. Curly yelped. "G-Guhuhuys! wahahit!" Curly couldn't help but giggle.

"why? this is exactly what you deserve, you cheater!" Anya exclaimed, a smug grin on her face as her blunt nails raked up and down Curly's sides. Daisuke was no better, his fingers squeezing just before Curly's hips. "Yeah, sorry cap. but she's right!" Daisuke chuckled. Curly tried to curl up on himself. but with Anya attacking from the front and Daisuke from behind, he couldn't escape.

"hey, Anya! what about here?" Daisuke spoke up. his hands instantly attacking Curly's ribs, wiggling right between them and all. Curly let out a shriek, his body twisting this way and that way to escape Daisuke's tickling fingers. "Dahahahaisuke! plehehease! wahaHAHIT-!" Anya chuckled. "sensitive captain? or should i say... cheater?" she asked with a sub grin. her own fingers now digging in just right into his sides.

Curly had lost it now, a small flush growing on his face. "STOHOHP CALLING MEHEHEHE THAHAT!" "see? he's turning red because he knows he's guilty!" Daisuke exclaimed with a sharp squeeze to Curly's ribs, making curly let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. he slid down, now laying against Daisuke slightly, trapping him. "GUHUYS, COHOHOME OHON! IHIHI DIDN'T CHEHEHEHEAT!" Curly cackled "that's something a cheater would say..." Anya retorted back.

"come on, Captain. just admit it and we'll let you go! simple!" the two stopped, Anya raising an eyebrow. "well, captain? you going to admit defeat?" she teased. Curly panted, trying to regain his Barings even though the two were yet to let him go. "noho! it's not my fault you two are so terrible at the game..!"

Curly knew he was cooked the moment those words left his lips. he watched as Anya's expression darkened, even Daisuke grew nervous. it's a look he knew all too well. without a word, Anya dug right into Curly's tummy, scribbling all over it in a flash with those long nails of hers.

Curly practically screamed. "ANYA! AHAHAHANYA!" "yeah! get him Anya!" Daisuke cheered on from behind Curly. Curly didn't try to hold back his squirming anymore. Daisuke trying to hold him. "what was it you said?" Anya asked, despite the look on her face, there was a playful undertone to her words as she continued her attack.

Curly was rolling. Daisuke wanted in on the action too, adding his own touch of hip squeezes. Curly desperately tried to push the two off him, but in his weak state he couldn't. "GUHUHUYS, PLEHEHEHEASE! IHIHM SOHOHOHORRY!" "oh now you're sorry, huh?" Anya teased. both her and Daisuke wore shit eating grins.

"IHI AHAHAM! IHIHI AHAHAHAHAM!" Curly cackled. his face and ears had turned all red. even tears of laughter started to brim in his eyes. Anya saw this and finally decided to take pity on Curly, Daisuke following right after. "oh fine..." Curly panted heavily, trying to recover from that intense attack.

"you okay, Cap?" Daisuke tilted his head down at Curly. Curly sat up, running his fingers through his blonde locks. "heh... i think so, yeah... that was insane..." he panted. "and for the record, I didn't cheat..." "oh, we know." Anya piped up. Curly looked at her and blinked. "what?" "yeah, we were just messing with ya!" Daisuke chuckled.

Curly went quiet for a moment. Anya and Daisuke looked at each other. "uh, Captain?" "Curly?" Curly glared at the two, but you could see the playfulness behind his eyes. "i hope you two can run fast..." Anya and Daisuke looked at each other once more, their faces paled with realization.

Daisuke was the first to jump up and run. "Anya, run!" he squealed and ran off. Anya looked back at Curly, the blonde man smirked before pouncing. Anya squealed, just missing him. she ran off in the same direction Daisuke went. "Daisuke, wait!" "hey! get back here!" Curly ran after the two. determination in his gaze and a playful smirk on his face.

Yippee! loved writing this one too! Anya and Daisuke as a team are awesome! @estelle-skully

[thatonegreyghost]

"You know the hero is traditionally supposed to marry the princess, right?"

Cecilia looks at the knight, easily twice her age and definitely twice as heavy, and tries not to choke in disgust. Lucan, the prince from Corinth, was supposed to come rescue her from the monster- this one was a werewolf, she thinks? She never saw it- but gods forbid Lucan do anything helpful. He's too busy "sparring" with his personal guard, probably.

"Is that a fact, Princess?" The knight gruffs sharply. "Well, that's not going to happen here. You're hardly much older than my daughter. I don't think anyone should want a wife of you."

"I should hope not." Cecilia mutters. "I have no interest in merely being someone's wife."

"As you shouldn't. You're too young." The knight agrees. "Come on, then. My camp is over this way. You can stay in the tent, and we'll head out in the morning."

"And where will you sleep?" Cecilia questions.

Lucan always sleeps in the tent with her. Not next to her, not usually, but always in the tent with her. He'll always complain that it's too cold outside, and he can't possibly be made to stay in the cold. Of course, that's likely because Lucan is a complete wuss.

"I'll sleep by the fire, Princess. It isn't a hardship."

Speaking of, Cecilia thinks, this camp is wonderful. A small tent, soup bubbling over a small fire, and what looks to be the coziest blanket in the kingdom. The knight begins to take off his armor, placing his sword near Cecilia's feet. An act of trust, and honor.

"Oh, you're a much better knight than Lucan."

The knight laughs, shaking his head.

"Lucan? Lucan of Corinth? No wonder you were stuck in that lair for so long. Lucan couldn't fight his way out of a potato sack- just like his mother."

Cecilia might agree, but on principle, she has to defend Lucan. Even if he is a bit of a wet sock.

"Excuse you, sir, how could you say such things?" Cecilia scoffs.

The knight laughs a hearty laugh, shaking his head. His armor clangs as he sets down his breastplate, then, as he stirs the soup, he laughs again.

"Lucan is my son. My former wife, Queen Castella of Corinth, is his mother. She won't give him any money until he marries, so I work to get him out of that castle. Once I've gotten enough to get him some armor, I'll start taking him on jobs. He's not much good at fighting, but he's got a charming smile and he can navigate royals much better than me."

"You're..." Cecilia takes a small step back. "You're Galyn of Corinth. The knight of Corinth. You saved the queen from a dragon!"

"She saved herself. No one would believe her, so she picked up the scrawniest knight she could get her hands on. I worked hard to be a good knight, but I was no dragon killer. Not back then." Sir Galyn laughs. "Imagine our surprise when she was promised to me. I told her I could leave, if she wanted. She told me to stay."

"So... what happened?" Cecilia asks as she sits by the fire. "Everyone says you disappeared. But Lucan always says that his father is his favorite person, and you don't seem dishonorable."

"Well, it's simple. Castella and I outgrew each other. I wanted to mend things. She... didn't think we could."

"So you left?"

Sir Galyn shakes his head, gruffing and groaning as he dishes out soup for the two of them. He glares at nothing in particular, tossing a blanket towards Cecilia with a quiet "don't catch cold, now." and nothing more.

Cecilia eats her soup, quietly wondering about this man in front of her. Lucan has consistently praised him for being the best man he knows. Lucan is also about as smart as a basket of cottage cheese. And does the great Galyn of Corinth really have to stoop so low as to take lowly rescuing jobs? Those are for young knights who would be better suited to palace life- one grand gesture they can coast on for the rest of their lives. Most princesses are lucky- they get a kind man, an honorable knight. But this...

"I didn't leave, Princess. She kicked me out." Sir Galyn reveals. "I couldn't stop fighting nobles for making lewd comments about young servant girls. I couldn't leave it that children were starving and freezing in the streets. She said I wasn't the man she married. I just never became the prince she wanted."

Cecilia eats her soup, not daring to look at Sir Galyn. She is more curious now, especially now that she knows this is Lucan's father.

"Why take Lucan with you? He is Corinth's only heir." Cecilia asks eventually.

"Well, see, Lucan has some specific preferences that Corinth won't tolerate." Sir Galyn mutters. "Were this my home country, it wouldn't be an issue, but his mother is starting to get nasty about it."

"So... You're paying to take him away?"

"It's as you said, Princess. He is Corinth's only heir. His mother will fight to keep him, even at the cost of his life."

Cecilia remembers, quite viscerally and suddenly, how she saw Lucan playing with a knife at a ball last year. He was drunk- most of them were, as the wine was quite strong and the weather was quite cold- but the ease with which he had settled that knife against his throat terrified her. He had spent two hours talking to her, during which time she confessed that she did not ever wish to marry, and would allow her younger brother to take the throne. She even detailed her plans to move to a convent.

A month later, he had begun courting her. At the time, she saw it as a betrayal of her trust. Now, she's not so sure.

"I hope you succeed." Cecilia blurts out. "Lucan can be a bit of an ass on occasion, but he deserves to be happy. Everyone does, I think."

"Aye, Princess, that we do." Sir Galyn says. "Sleep. I'll take you home in the morning."

The princess has been rescued, hooray! But to her dismay the hero isn't young and handsome, instead he's a middle aged divorcee who took the job to pay alimony and child support.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Saturday, 12-21-24, 7pm Pacific

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT:

'Evenin', everyone. This is your faithful Bringer of The Tunes of Yore, your intrepid DJ, Mr. Baggins, signing off for...a while.

I'll be taking these next ten days off, hopefully you might think them well-deserved. I've been doing these three shows a day for a good long while with no break, as I've been mulling over my (and our) future.

I started Radio Free Tumblr as a way to help keep everyone's morale up while the shitshow progresses, and to spend less time "DOOMSCROLLING" all the bad news, since my personal situation is still so dire I don't need any more bringing-down.

I also started it to give me more time for myself, but in reality, it has turned into a full-time, all-day job for me to come up with these three shows a day, mostly just picking things out of my own memory and following the breadcrumbs. It's a creative process that, unfortunately, takes as much of a toll as anything else.

As a result, your intrepid DJ is One Tired Mofo. I'll be taking the rest of the year off to do some recouping and more thinking about what I want to do with this blog.

It's been difficult for me to think about going back to the trenches and being as on-the-front-lines as I was. I know I've probably disappointed some of you, going from being so vocal and sure of everything, to pulling back and essentially rolling into a ball like a pangolin while I've tried to figure this out.

And I've had some shame over that, as well. It feels like I've failed y'all in some ways. Please know I didn't "give up"...I was just thrown so far off track by the election debacle I couldn't see a way forward and I let it get to me. My usual modus operandi when something like that happens is to retreat into The Music until I figure it all out, and Radio Free Tumblr was a way y'all could come along for the ride, as it were.

We are on the cusp of a very strange time, and I still believe that somehow we will pull through this stronger, but I'm still having difficulty with seeing a way forward. I hope these next ten days will help make it clearer in my mind.

The shows will stay posted and up, so if there were some you really enjoyed and want to hear again, just go to my Archive page, and they're all there, from the beginning posts in the aftermath of that first week of November forward.

And I wanna give a very heart-felt THANK YOU to everyone who's enjoyed what I've done with The Music here this past couple of months...that makes me feel good, knowing that conjuring this music up out of my memory banks and following the creative breadcrumbs from the universe has maybe helped some of y'all smile and have a better day.

So...until next time...be kind, babies, be kind.

Baggins out.

[pe4nutastic]

Happiness

After two months away (due to at least two separate issues that required A LOT of my attention), I've felt the spark of inspiration to write a little drabble upon returning here. In the interest of keeping things short, this drabble features Giegue and a little in-between from when he got the mission he tries to complete in Mother 1, but before he actually starts it.

Happiness.  Noun.  The state of being happy.

The experience of having all the empty spaces filled with something warm, bright, and positive.

A nebulous thing that seems small yet fills every darkened corner, nook, and cranny to ever exist, even ones that had until that point, escaped the notice of its physically-embedded origin.

Something that many life-forms spend eons chasing with feverish ambition, desperation clawing away at any misgivings or loss of will that occurs in-between, and in turn propels them forward towards that ever-distant effervescent light.

A lofty notion.  A foolish endeavor.  A lie perpetuated by the chaotic and disorganized nature of life-forms not ingrained with purposes that members of the Psion species are, long before energy is expended to create one.

And as a Psion, he has direction and purpose.  He is useful.  And thus, he is fulfilled.  The emptiness which had once perpetuated his being, decades prior at the termination of the experiment, has been completely wiped away and replaced by his conviction and dedication to fulfilling his predetermined purpose in Psion society.

As such, surely that must mean that he is happy.

In his own way, as a Psion and thus lacking much in the way of emotions, he must have achieved true happiness.

Or at least… that is what he would like to believe, as he rather mechanically walks down the characteristically smooth, monochromatic, and deceptively featureless hallways of Psion infrastructure, in the moments following his latest issued mission.  

The one which had always been ‘in the cards’ since that human man… George… had escaped with classified knowledge.  The day when retribution would finally be dispensed.  The moment when his own… –the mistakes of the past would finally be rectified.  The final trial through which he would undergo to finally ascertain that he is now capable and clear-minded–emptied of all erroneous attachment and so-called ‘feelings’–enough to be fully trusted with anything and everything as a high-ranking military operative.  To prove to himself that he is okay and never needed things like ‘kindness’, ‘caring’, ‘love’, or ‘emotional support’ (and by extension others) to begin with.

Those are the telltale markings of someone that is weak and dependent.

And he is certainly not weak or dependent.  Every single bit of blood, sweat, and ‘tears’ sacrificed to becoming what he has always been meant to be, is proof of that.  All his hard work over the course of decades has been to prepare himself for the opportunity in which he could, at long last, overturn what had happened before.  Correct the hideous mistakes of the past and in doing so, put it behind him entirely.  He had always known about this mission and what it would mean when the time came to properly enact it.  It had never been a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’ and yet… all the same, the very moment he had been given his orders during that quick meeting with the Psion superiors… something in him had frozen over completely.

A cold numbness had filled the shell of his exoskeleton, cleaving his data (a constitution of ‘self’) clean from its forced physicality and in its place attached cheap strings to maneuver his body instead as he continues down the seemingly endless hallway, one mechanical and perfectly-executed step at a time.  Like clockwork, he had hesitated none in accepting the mission before turning around and leaving the minimalistic yet oddly spacious meeting room–as monochromatic and featureless as the hallways of this building–but it was all a practiced lie.  A reaction sequence so ingrained that it came automatically, even as his focus fell and an odd static-riddled silence assaulted his auditory senses in the place of whatever else (if anything at all) the Psion superiors may have said.

And as he continues to walk, inching closer and closer towards the teleportation pad serving as the exit out the otherwise impenetrable building--battered and severed from completely participating in reality by that piercing static--that sense of cold numbness and vague disorientation erodes away at his convictions like an especially unsightly disease or poison. Eroding away, bit-by-bit, until it brings him to a screeeeeeching halt just before the teleportation pad, a neat and concise circle etched in the gentle glow of white light overtop the smooth grey floors.  Stuck in place and unable to will himself, for the time-being, to do more than simply stare down the teleportation circle etched into the floor as it truly hits him, posture tensing even further in its hunched (unsightly) state and pale hands curling into especially tight fists at his sides, rat-like tail swishing uneasily overtop the cold floor in as a barely constrained something dangerously bubbles beneath the fragile surface in all its inscrutable and toxic glory.

He had always known this day would come.

He had always known that he would be the one to exterminate humanity and siphon the Earth’s remaining resources afterwards.

If he is to believe in such a frivolous thing… he would certainly regard it as his ‘destiny’.  

But it had always seemed distant.

A thing that he would not need to concern himself with for a very long time.  Something that he could neatly isolate from the rest of his mind and instead focus on literally anything else.  Something he could bury with the work he had thrown himself into once he had accepted that he had been abandoned by the ones which had introduced the irrational concept of ‘love’ to him; unable to sustain ‘love’ when his inborn defects had become especially prominent to them.  This mission had been a function of the distant future, but before he could even grasp the passage of time, it had elapsed; decades blurring into a single note, from then (a child) to now (in the adult phase of life, his second and final form).  And now it’s here.

The Earth.  Humans.  George.

Maria.

A sharp and almost indiscernible pang, tail whipping off to the side where it then remains frozen, no longer daring even a tiny 'step' out of place; something he can neither grasp or comprehend in full beyond its physical impact.

After this mission, there would be no more of that.  A complete closure on that chapter of his life to its fullest.

No more Earth.

No more humans.

No more trouble over the… selfish… actions of that self-absorbed human man.

Nothing of hers left any longer.  Any reminders of what was or could have been will effectively be extinguished in full.

No more.  Everything will be gone; wiped off the plane of existence and repurposed for a greater cause.  Never to return or be experienced again by anyone else.

Complete finality.  His life had been defined by this and now he would be properly disentangled from it all and finally be ‘normal’.

There is no reason not to want this.  To even hesitate at all.  All he had ever wanted was to be normal.  And even then, there are plenty of logical reasons why humanity cannot simply be left to their own devices.

If left to their own devices, humanity would only ever waste the stolen knowledge before eventually going on to destroy themselves, courtesy of their collectively self-serving, overly audacious and determined, and short-sighted nature.  If permitted to evolve to a sufficient degree in psionic prowess and technology, they could cause quite a bit of harm to the universe at large and in turn, effectively take others down with them.  They are doomed as a species either way.  And so, exterminating them before any of this has a chance to happen, will not only effectively spare them from the ‘suffering’ that otherwise permitting for them to continue existing would entail, but it will also put them and their planet to better use this way.

As such, if anything… exterminating them is a ‘kindness’ in a way.  A kindness to humanity itself and the universe at large.

A nod to himself, almost too enthused and desperate in its motion, sharp teeth grinding from behind the flat line of his mouth ever-so-slightly while the tight fists balled at his sides clench and unclench at regular intervals.

Yes.  It’s better this way.  Of course.  There is no reason to do anything but simply step into the teleportation circle because this is the best possible outcome to this entire mess.  The only way this particular thread in his story could ever end.  But, something stalls him nonetheless.  Keeps him frozen to the spot.  A patchworked and mismatched jigsaw of thoughts swirling from beneath his more coherent thoughts, a dangerous and unexpectedly influential undercurrent that he cannot entirely parse, disconnected as he is in his current state.  Cannot entirely parse… save for perhaps one thing that comes through and loops back to his original train of thought, with an exceptionally ugly spin to it. A twist from being a support to his conviction, pride, and duty as Psion to sowing the embittered seeds of something he had not experienced in a very long time.

His entire life post-experiment… everything he has done up to this point… everything he has done throughout his life to become the seemingly infallible and invincible military commander that he is now… does it make him happy?

A sharp pang of doubt, tipped in something foreboding and dark.

Does being a cog in Psion society make him feel truly fulfilled?  Or is it more akin to a distraction from the emptiness he had initially experienced many decades prior?

Is it enough to simply fulfill his duty to the Psion species, forever more?

Is he happy?  Could Giegue himself say that he is happy?

……….

………………………………………

Inconsequential and irrelevant.  He is a Psion.

That pang is promptly erased, forced to the back of his mind alongside anything else afflicting him, just as he had done so many times prior; the well-practiced strategy through which he had overcome his flawed beginnings. A chaotic and jumbled thing forcibly (by the ironclad strength of his renewed spurt of willpower) supplanted by pride, duty, conviction, and ultimately loyalty to the Psion species above all else.  There is no longer any room for anything but that because he is a Psion.  And ‘happiness’ is not an inherent function of Psions nor is it built into their predetermined purposes.

He forces himself to move a step forward, his mind clearing up and more properly reconnecting to concrete reality as he does so.  One foot in the teleportation circle.

He is a Psion.  And he was literally ‘born’ to serve.  To support the overarching ideologies and goals of the Psion superiors by fulfilling his function as a military cog.

Another foot is promptly set down within the teleportation circle and the rest of his body with it, posture untensing and his fists uncurling into idle positions by their respective sides.

Nothing more and nothing less.  He does not need anything else.  He does not want anything else.  He is not meant for anything else.

And that is okay. He is fine. There is nothing left inside to say otherwise because he is a Psion and Psions do not have things like 'feelings' or 'sentimentality'; only their predetermined role through which to guide themselves.

The teleportation pad’s gentle luminosity increases to a more blinding display of white, Giegue’s body slowly beginning to fade from behind its intensity.

He is a Psion.  And as a Psion, he will fulfill his mission no matter what.

He disappears in a flash, little star-like twinkles of white light hanging overlong from within the teleportation circle before too fading away into nothingness.

[hunsa-jars]

Dread be dreading

[such-a-daydreamer]

Just spit ballin here....... super angsty and also really long and also also doesn't really matter but......

If this is a world where pokemon exist, then why would Stan NOT have pokemon? Only reason I can think of: he had to release them/ give them away. KFHFUEBCJDEKCJ

Stan is homeless, a drifter. Sure, he could have pokemon and treat them well, but we also know that Stan gets into a lot of trouble. So, what I'm thinking is that to prevent them from getting hurt again and again and again (even if he can just heal them for free at a centre) he'd feel better knowing that he's not burdening them with his fights and set them free.

Maybe Stanley just couldn't stand seeing his beloved pokemon beaten into unconsciousness anymore. Maybe he just felt too guilty dragging anything else along with him and had to let them go....

FNCUEBFISKDJCUCJEDJ I'M TIRED AND NOW I WANT TO CRY EJCNEKXKDKFJRIRKGJDKDK WHY DO I MAKE MYSELF SUFFER????

Also do you think Ford's pokemon notice him... acting weird? How do you think they react to his spiral??

Click for better quality, I'm begging

Companion piece to this!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

already thinking "and by 'religious' really i mean 'christian'" re: how the term "religion" is not really useful when it's largely like, from a christian perspective, what is considered "equivalent" of christianity, see: perhaps a "rival"/obstacle to some person or group being considered christian....and even if not thinking about converting anyone, resulting in some at best misinterpretation / misrepresentation based on framing it through/as [element of christianity] and limiting of any more accurate language

like how tumblr recommends me a post about someone thinking about "religion" in general and concluding that it's Weird and perhaps Wrong for anyone who is a "true believer" in their religion(tm) to Not be proselytizing / trying to Convert everyone. like yeah why isn't everyone being an evangelical christian, they ought to be, benevolently informing all those around them that they're going to hell, otherwise. don't see any problem with this conclusion, or that someone's getting antisemitic in the notes already in agreement, or that That's Not How This Works and you don't just know how All "Religion" works based on considering it to be an alternate version of christianity (which in itself doesn't All work like that either)

[cptkitten]

Blue October - Hate Me

[judicent]

What the ever-loving fuck am I ever saying to anyone?

Because whatever the hell it is, I sure as shit don't mean it.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[dropsnectar]

Courting a Queen: Bee Hybrid × Reader Part Two

Hey! So a lot of you wanted the Bee smut, so, here it is! I'm still new to writing smut so please be kind. Also, in @bunnis-monsters universe of Bee Hybrids, its mentioned that they have different types of Honey that have different properties and effects, so I wanted to play with that a little. Also just a reminder that I headcannon that the queen scouting drones are a bit more intelligent than other bee hybrids,, as this works better to lure in a queen! Hope you enjoy!

Everything had happened so quickly, you didn't know quite what to do or think. 

You'd just been talking and having fun with a few Bee Hybrids, now suddenly suddenly you were in their hive, they were calling you Queen, and it was getting really hard to talk your way out of this when you had so many tongues on your skin--

“Y-You guys I can't become your… oh God um… there's no way I can become a queen!” You tried your best to gently pull yourself out of their grasp, but the little nibbles Haven was doing on your ear were way too distracting. Elias answered you.

“We know you'd be great. Please dont be mean to yourself.” He pouted at you with big eyes as he worked on pulling down your black leggings. He carefully lifted your thighs as he did so and you noticed that his skin, while smooth and soft, also had a sort of firmness to it that human skin didn't. It made your core burn. 

“Are we doing something wrong? Please tell us my Queen, we only want to make you feel good.” Another hand was slowly exploring up your shirt. You looked over at Ray, the black haired hybrid who was staring at you with the biggest, mooniest eyes, like he was a dog begging for a treat. He trailed his hands up and down your belly, his hands were more beelike than the others, and the foreigners of it gave you goosebumps. 

Stop it! You can't become Queen! You'd never leave this place!

“I can't do this.” You finally managed, pulling away from Haven and Ray's grasp.

“I have a home. And a job and…”

And not much else. Your parents weren't the kindest, and you only ever saw your friends once every two months. If they remembered you that was.

Elias gently took one of your hands in his. “This can be your home! We would feed you and do whatever you want! You'll never be lonely again. Please. We've been so long without a Queen and…” His antennas drooped. So Did Haven and Rays, their exuberant wings going quiet.

“ We will die soon. Without a Queen our hive will grow weak, and other hives will fight us for our home territory.” Ray leaned his head gently on my shoulder, a whine escaping his chest.

Haven started to tear up. At least, he seemed to cry. “ We need you. We will never stop loving you, and you would never want for anything, please let us keep you.”

Your heart grew heavy. You didn't know much about bees, but you were aware that Queens were super important for the health of the hive. You had only known them for a day, but you couldn't bear the thought of them dying. They were so incredibly sweet after all.

Maybe I could try it for a little bit. I mean, being a Queen couldn't be so bad. You reasoned. And if it becomes too much, I could maybe help them find a new one. Or run away in the night, maybe.

“I'll… give it a try.” 

The three of them were in the air at once, pulling on your limbs and jumping up and down. Haven got up and did what seemed like a little happy dance, Elias joining in. While Ray continues to hold onto you and nuzzle you in large excited motions. You watched the two dancing and clapped happily. They buzzed loudly, seeming pleased with your smile and sudden lifted mood. They could feel your affection for them in the air and it bode well.

At that time, the bee-man that Elias had pulled aside earlier knocked on the door, before buzzing in with a cup of something sweet. Well, the whole place smelled sweet, but you noticed steam coming up from the cup. You tilted your head in confusion.

“He added some warm water to help you get it down easier! Your human after all, so thick things may be hard to drink, right?” Elias smiled and handed you the warm little cup. It smelled… well. Like honey. But their was a little heat to it. Maybe cinnamon? Nutmeg?

“Its super special, just for you!” Haven volunteered, as he settled back down to his place on your back left. He busied himself with rubbing your shoulder, then kissing the back of your head sweetly. 

All of this attention was making your cheeks rosy. To busy yourself you took an experimental sip of the warm honey. It went easily from your tongue down your throat. Expecting the taste of normal honey, you were surprised by the variety of notes. Still sweet, it indeed had a hefty… spice to it? Like it had been salted and mixed with a little chilli pepper. The heat of it spread from your throat, through your head and your body, making you shiver.

It was a feeling similar to hot chocolate on a long day out in the snow. Delighted, you slurped it down greedily. Ray laughed and the other two hybrids seemed very pleased. They watched you drink the whole cup, pride and their ever present excitement alight on every feature. 

You gave the cup back to Elias and smiled dreamily. You finally felt relaxed enough and tried to lie back on the couch, instead ending up in Ray and Havens arms. 

“That was really good.” You almost whispered. You were still warm from drink, and a haziness had softly draped itself over your brain. Soft. Warm. 

 Probably tired from a long day, you thought with a giggle. What a silly day it had been. What a silly situation.

Elias set the cup down on a table towards the door and floated toward you, a hungry look in his eye. Ray had decided to lap at your jaw now, making you shiver, again marveling at the strange texture his tongue had. Almost like a cat but smoother? Somehow? It felt good. 

The room was filled with pleasant buzzing and purring, as several pairs of hands started working your skin. Haven was now exploring the inside of your shirt, pulling excitedly at your bra. He felt around for a little bit, trying to find the latch. You noticed, through a big mirror by the door that his tongue was sticking out the whole time. You giggled. So cute.

A sudden nip to your inner thigh made you jolt. Elias had made his place between your thighs again and had started licking and nipping to getting your attention. He pouted at you until you gave him full eye contact.

“I'll get to breed you first, since I found you.” Elias said in the most innocent tone you almost didn't comprehend it. Until he was licking at your clothed cunt with his long black tongue. You whined a bit, in surprise and pleasure. It felt good. 

Haven must have figured out your bra because suddenly you felt fingers on your chest now. They moved around haphazardly, watching your face for a reaction. When one found your nipple you bit your lip and pried your gaze away from Elias for an instant. Havens face lit up in a smile.

“ Can I take this off, my Queen?” He asked in his delicate textured voice. You nodded and lifted your arms for them. A sudden jolt pulled your gaze back down to Elias, who was pouting at you. He had pulled your underwear aside and had started licking fervently between your lips. Those big, adoring eyes did as much to you as his tongue and you moaned out.

You were suddenly ablaze now, your core dripping and needy. It was sudden, and your hazy mind tried to work out how they'd got you gushing so fast. They were obviously new at this, reaching around trying to find your best spots, but you needed more. 

“T-take them off, please.” You begged Elias quietly, as your breath was quite ragged. Elias complied happily. You opened your legs wider for him, and he was able to push your lips apart farther so he could get a look at you. Enchanted, he took a finger and drew circles around you, noting when and where you would flinch, and jerk your hips. After experimenting a bit more he decided to suck on your most sensitive place: Your clit.

You howled out as he sucked and licked you, the texture of his tongue so different from anything you'd felt before. 

Haven and Ray were buzzing so loudly as the licked you, groping your sweet tummy, and sucking where they could. Ray had decided on sucking and when you sang for him, he started trilling with glee. Seeing this, Haven did the same. Their hands continued to roam.

The sucking of your tits and the attention on your clit were getting you close. The pressure in your stomach was mounting, and when Elias had decided to move two of his delicate fingers into your entrance you came hard around him, full body quaking. Drool pooled down your face as you gasped, stars filling your vision. 

“ Such a good Queen, coming for us so well.” Praised Ray, before he went back to assaulting your nipple with his tongue. Haven giggled and buzzed in agreement.

When you came down from your high, you were surprised to find yourself still wanting, wriggling, your skin so sensitive and desperate for more touch that you bucked yourself back into Elias’ face. The confusion persisted and you were about to ask a question when Elias answered.

“Don't worry, Our Love, we made sure you'd feel good enough to take all of us. Our honey truly is special. You won't feel any pain, we promise!”

The honey'd been… an aphrodisiac?

Something about that should have bothered you but all you could think about was having something inside you. Of wanting more of their touch, more more more-

You chocked as Haven started rubbing your clit, the sweet pressure bringing you some relief. Elias was taking his human clothing off now, revealing his lower half. His cock was long. Long, but super pretty and pink. You licked your lips as he lined it up with your wet entrance. His big, clear eyes stared at you with such devotion it bordered on worship, before he plunged himself within your needy walls.

You cried out, and it was like a wave of pleasure crashed through the room, as everyone sighed. He started slow, working himself further and further inside you as he went. The stretch and rhythm felt so good, you tried to work in time with him. His length was slick and warm and being so close to him only made your affection grow. You couldn't help it.

Ray and Haven were moaning in your ear. They were still sucking your tits, but were humping whatever bit of you they could, desperate and needy.

You wanted to help them but each stroke Elias was working in you felt so good your mind couldn't think properly. You stayed like that for a while, Elias hitting your best spots, sending you closer and closer to your limit, before he seemed to come, hard, a guttural sound leaving his throat. 

But instead of feeling hot, wet cum, you felt something push against your walls. A ridge was forming inside of you, pushing up through his member. The stretch was delicious and you keened as another traced its way up your walls. A sudden soft wetness, and a heaviness was felt at the innermost part of you. You'd never felt anything like it before and your walls twitched around it. An egg.

Your mind raced back to an earlier comment. You'd completely forgotten about the eggs. But your mind was so gone all you could do was whine at the tightness, as another was laid in you, and you came again, another wave of pleasure racking your mind and body. 

It went on like this, him laying one after the other, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. You could tell Elias was getting utterly spent, his rocking movements slowing, the erratic flaps of his wings getting more labored. Drool continued to pool out of his mouth. His heavy meaningful gaze was now glassy and tired. You wanted to hold him. 

When the last egg was laid within you, Ray took his place in a flash. As Elias took his spot on your right, lazily sucking on your collarbone, Ray pushed himself in fully in one go. His dick was thicker, and not as long as Elias’, but it felt amazing around the eggs. 

“My turn. You'll take my clutch so well, I know it.” He reassured, rubbing his thumb like limbs on your hips as he slowly rutted into you. He was whispering praises about your beauty and how well you were doing the whole time. The stretch of his dick felt so good as he fucked the eggs further into you, adding his own. He was quicker than Elias to lay though. His eggs were much bigger, making you sputter a bit as you took them. It seemed that Bee-men came continuously as they laid their spawn, because he was a glassy eyed, babbling mess the whole time he pushed more into you. 

Haven took the longest time to lay, despite fucking you the fastest and hardest of the three. He giggled, so happy and pussydrunk the whole time. 

“My Queen, it feels so good. Am I making you feel good?”

“So good,” you confirmed through shaggy breaths.  “So good. My good boy.” You could feel a shock throughout the room and Haven smiled so big through his sweaty curls, that you couldn't help but return it. His hips rocked into you faster now, though he was still careful of your eggs.

The other two pouted, making crying vibrating sounds. “My good boys.” You corrected. “Doing so well.” you were so close to cumming again it was hard to think, but you reached both hands up to caress them both. Consoled, they clung to you even tighter, as if that was possible, whispering praises back. You were such a good queen, taking so many eggs. So good and sweet. 

Their words brought you over the edge at the same time Haven let out a loud trilling sound. He collapsed forward onto your lap, licking at your now extended belly. You both shook, riding out your high.

The room smelled of sweat, and their saccharine aroma. You realized you'd become a bit addicted to the scent, nuzzling closer into the soft fur of your new family. 

You lay there for a time, letting your bee-men fuss over you. They wiped the sweat from your body and cooed at your stomach, at how adorable you were being so full, and taking so many eggs. 

“Our lovely Queen. Did so well for you first mating.” Elias had glowed with pride for you, then  nuzzled into your neck in that way of his. “The rest of the hive is just going to love you. But for now, rest.” He petted soft loving strokes down your forehead. The motion was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting sleep consume you.

Before you completely lost consciousness, you heard a worried Haven whisper, “I hope she makes us her attendants. It'd be such a shame to only see her when its our turn to mate.” You felt some nodding onto your shoulder and buzzing of agreement. You'd have to remember to ask them about it when you awoke.

Hey guys! Was this too long? Would love some constructive feedback about what you'd like to see more of! Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

[clemencetaught]

round and round ( @jeoseungsaja did not ask for one but is getting one for this verse anyways <3 )

“Would you be able to feed Sun for the next few days?” Speaking of which, where did she run off to? He swore she was on the desk a few minutes ago…it’s only Hyuk, after all. She should be used to him by now, Patrick would assume. That and...well there isn't anyone else whom he could trust her with. He averts his eyes- maybe if he says softly enough, he won’t have to admit to Hyuk that the Capitol is calling him back in even though the games this year ended only last week.

“I should…I should be back by the end of the week, but if there isn’t any more food in the bag, just unlock the window so she can get in at night. You wouldn’t have to change anything about your day for her either.”

[thebearer]

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 

“-No, no, I swear-” 

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”