#but i think people just use it for whatever they want so here its meant to show their starting persona's main element and their weapon

[bigskydreaming]

So, been awhile! Apologies for that - took a step back from most social media sites for a few months because the accumulated stresses and everpresent urgency to most things I've been dealing with for the past five plus years finally caught up with me and I kinda just....crashed, and needed some time to get my head on straight. Or whatever the non-obvious-pun version of that might be for a Known Bisexual. Everything was getting to be too constantly 'stop and go' for me, if that makes sense.....like I'd TRY to be more present on here, TRY to work on things like my patreon and fic and meta and stuff like that because I've really wanted to get back to creating actual stuff that people enjoy instead of being like My Issues: The Latest Installment and the like, but then something else would crop up and kill my momentum before it even really got going and I'd have to duck away yet again, and rinse and repeat.

HENCE! I took a more dedicated, extended leave to try and get into a headspace and build a buffer that better lends itself to me getting back to the kinds of posting/writing conditions I've thrived under in the past. It took longer than I thought, but I've never been good at accurately estimating things lol. I've still been on twitter somewhat sporadically, since a huge part of why I hate that site is its format makes it all but impossible to really get to ranting at length...y'know, as I do, my tried and true time-suck method of procrastinating...and with everything going on in the world these days I didn't want to disconnect entirely even though I did need time to work through some shit. BUT I DIGRESS.

Point is, felt like I needed something more substantial than the optimistic-but-lacking-in-actual-energy-and-planning measures I've attempted in the past couple years in order to get on top of things and achieve a measure of consistency and stability again. Less shooting for the moon because I just WANT to be back to my older, happier/more content patterns, more....putting some actual time and thought into how I can realistically make that happen instead of just trying to will it into existence through sheer stubbornness. Because obviously, THAT always works.

ANYWAY. It'll still be a couple days before I get back to regular posting/reblogging patterns or much of any of that at all.....don't be confused if you see some blink and you miss them temporary posts from me over the next day or two. I'm testing out the formatting and layout of a bunch of posts and graphics made for my patreon and original fiction stuff, since the preview post function doesn't always work with read mores in a post and they're all gonna need that lol. If anyone's up for it, I am finalizing the price/reward tiers of my patreon and could use some thoughts on the different levels - I think I have them mostly figured out but wouldn't mind some additional perspectives on how I broke things down and if I'm missing some alternatives. Just message me directly if you'd like to weigh in or lend me your thoughts!

I've never wanted my tumblr to be all about fic or just original content or anything like that, so the patreon's meant to kinda keep all that separate beyond just generalized update announcements on here. The blog will remain just a regular multi-purpose smorgasboard of my reblogs and thoughts on other posts and meta about my various fandoms and all that jazz. The patreon discord will have spaces having to do with my various fanfics, but they'll never be exclusive to it in any way, and every fic update I make will still be on my blog same as always. I've been building masterlists of all my Dick Grayson meta and all my Teen Wolf meta, as well as headcanons and writing snippets/scenes that never got posted elsewhere because I didn't consider them full fics, and I'm starting a series of posts that lean directly into my tendencies to be an Overly Opinionated Asshole who - historically speaking - has never been, uh, shy, shall we say, about Having Thoughts about various fandom patterns or trends.

So....look out for the upcoming "Kalen Vs Fandoms" post series. What? It sounded catchy to me. First up:

"Fandoms' tendency to pick one character per fandom to have every other character introduce as the dumbest person they've ever met, but no its okay, they're actually really fond of them and universally defaulting to a judgmental or patronizing shot at their intelligence every single time they're the topic of conversation among other characters just naturally happens to be part of every single other character's love language - is this perhaps NOT as endearing or affectionate as fandoms tend to treat it as?" Aka "How many people can actually say they'd be comfortable with the idea of every single person in their family or friend group leading with "I genuinely think they're stupid but I love them anyway" each time they talk about them to someone else, and if you don't think that's a normal conversation starter for people to have about a loved one, why do so many fandoms attempt to treat it as such?"

.....the length of post title should not be taken as an indicator of how long each post is. If people want to draw their own conclusions about post length based solely on the fact that they're, well, by me.....I mean. That's totally your prerogative. Nothing I can do about that!

Post topics will run the gamut, if for no other reason than gamut is an amazing word that doesn't get used enough and I wanted to use it. From "Its totally valid to project onto characters and use fic as a way to work through various issues via that projection but how much does this have to do with how defensively people react to the slighest criticism of character choices in their fics as though personally attacked - discuss" to "Criticizing and condemning the writers of source material for specific things - to rave reviews from followers - only to then do the exact same specific things in your own fics - to rave reviews from followers - while claiming that the mere fact of being a fan not getting paid for writing those specific things somehow makes them less worthy of criticism.....are we all seeing the problem here."

There's a slight chance those titles are perhaps....somewhat unnecessarily asshole-coded, but like, in a whimsical way! I think. Whatever. I'm sure it'll be fine!

Will either rhyme OR reason be involved in the order of post topics? No. Not even a little bit. Next question.

Aside from "Kalen vs Fandoms" I've been putting a lot of thought into what other topics or content I can expound upon at length, to the possible interest of people. I'm good at writing and editing and analyzing narratives. Not claiming to be the best, just not trying to fish for compliments or anything. I think my analysis of narrative and character choices has generally been of interest in most fandoms I've been in, but when I'm IN a fandom, I do personally invest in favorite characters and stories that inevitably put me in opposition to takes from fans of other characters and stories within that fandom, and when that happens, the Horseman of Discourse inevitably follows and I....do the discourse. Look, I am who I am. I see the discourse, I engage with the discourse. Unless I don't care about the topic of discourse, in which case I don't, because that discourse doesn't matter. Obviously.

SO! In the interest of posting about narrative analysis and breakdowns of writing choices, character arcs and the like but WITHOUT engaging in The Discourse, I'll be making an easy-to-find post of fandoms or source material whose characters and narratives I'm familiar enough with TO have opinions or analysises of, but for whatever reason, the fandom has never clicked for me and I've never actually felt a desire to be part of it. Thus I'm not likely to be invested or compelled enough to follow up on anyone disagreeing with my personal thoughts or analysis or various character arcs or narratives, because its literally just like, my opinion man, presented for no other purpose than to potentially be of interest to anyone who might be interested in it. No actual follow up needed on my part because I'm not particularly chuffed if people have different takes, they're totally valid, mine don't exist for the purpose of being defended there, they just exist because Opinions, I Had Them, Here Look. Or Don't. Its Totally Whatever.

Because I don't feel as strongly about these pieces of media as I do fandoms I'm personally invested in, it is trickier to come up with a comprehensive list of ones I can weigh in on. So please feel free to hit up my inbox with any fandoms, narrative or character arcs you're curious about my take on, and I'll let you know if they're fandoms I consider myself a participant in, and thus not really right for this series, or if they're something I'm just not knowledgeable about.....but if they're not an actual fandom of mine and I AM familiar enough with them to have an analytical take or response, I'll add them to the masterlist/post as a potential topic.

This series will be called and tagged "Kalen Vs Writing Choices" (That I Personally Don't Like Or Think Could Be Better). The parenthetical part is there solely to be a disclaimer clarifying that my ego is not so great that I think that My Subjective Take on the writing choices made or not made is the only one that matters. I mean, I don't intend to include the disclaimer as part of the actual tag and will mostly leave it as y'know, like, something IMPLIED, but the disclaimer still exists and thus counts. That's totally how that works.

And that's how I've chosen to awkwardly segue into the final intended-of-three post series.....Dramatically Abrupt Tonal Shift Ahoy!

This next part will get long, but I would truly appreciate it if you gave it a read despite its length and even if - especially if - the next topic isn't one you typically look for my take on, or even avoid my take on, because I don't think I'm likely to ever express my thoughts on this matter any more genuinely or directly than this. Like I'm not trying to guilt anyone or anything like that, its more I'm just trying to say if you ever read ANY single post of mine when it comes to the next topic or pick a post to base your decision on whether or not TO wade into something I have to say on this subject, I would appreciate it if you made that this next part here, as I think it best conveys where I'm coming from when it comes to most any post I make along these lines.

So. The thing is....most people who've followed me long know that in the past I've frequently been extremely vocal on topics of rape, incest and abuse, specifically through the lens of being a male survivor. These absolutely are personal for me. This has led to me having a lot of Overly Opinionated Takes on these topics and how they're talked about, depicted and treated within fandom conversations, fics, and social media spheres and conversations at large. I've also pretty obviously not posted on these topics nearly as much in recent years as I once did - but not because I feel any less strongly about them.

And that's one hundred percent because it's frustrating as hell to see a very good portion of the posts I make about any OTHER topic in my usual fandoms go on to accumulate hundreds of notes....while NONE of my posts on these topics ever break out of my direct circle of mutuals. I don't say it to be egotistical - look how many notes I get on stuff - I say it because its literally objectively factual, and the disparity is dramatic, and the disparity is a PROBLEM. Especially given how much the topics of male rape and abuse - in SPECIFIC - tend to be, within most of my past fandoms.

This disparity has a very clear reason for existing too: people have never been shy about citing that they refrain from reblogging or referencing my posts on these topics because they feel like I act like I'm the only opinion that matters on them, the sole authority to be listened to here, that I use my status as a male rape survivor as a cudgel, to shut down opposing takes or points of view.

Which I would totally be fine with or understand if not for the fact that I've always gone out of my way to express that I don't want or expect my opinions on these matters to be taken as anything other than my personal opinions born of my personal experiences, which I cite because they're relevant. I don't think that survivors should have to disclose their status or personal history or details in order to have their opinion heard on these topics, but I deeply resent how often survivors making the choice TO disclose their personal history or relationship with these topics in order to directly unpack how that informs our perspective....is weaponized AGAINST us, in order to shut down and discredit OUR takes even while literally accusing us of only disclosing in order to do the exact same thing to others.

Something that I've posted about a LOT in the hopes of getting it spread throughout fandoms that regularly talk about male rape is for literal decades I've seen people harp on about how men can be raped too, believe male survivors, don't believe the myth that men can't be raped, etc. Which like, I appreciate the sentiment, but the thing I've tried to express for years is that in my personal experience, and those of a lot of other male survivors I've talked to - this is not really the biggest or even ONE of the biggest issues most male survivors face.

And the fact that for all that there are many survivors in fandom who have made the difficult choice to be open about their traumas and recoveries - which I ALWAYS respect, as that is never easy for any of us - a huge part of why I've always made a point to disclose my own history as a male survivor is because there just flat out aren't a lot of perspectives from MALE survivors in specific, being circulated in pretty much any of the fandom spaces I've ever been in over the past twenty years. I don't even slightly think I'm any more of an expert or authority on topics of rape or abuse - beyond how they pertain to my own personal experiences - than any other survivor. But as long as the topic of MALE rape and abuse in specific, how men are affected by these things, how society reacts to us and treats us in the aftermath....as long as these are the topics explicitly being discussed.....I do think my perspective as a male survivor is pretty fucking relevant, and admittedly, I tend to get pretty heated about pushing BACK against attempts to invalidate it or shout it down as though I somehow have LESS of a stake in or right to be heard in these particular conversations. And I get how this has at times come across as attempting to dominate a given conversation.

But like.....I'm also going to point back up to the part where I said earlier....I'm an Overly Opinionated Asshole. I say it somewhat deprecatingly, for the lulz, but also not. I'm very passionate about conversations and topics I feel strongly about and I don't make apologies for it. And for the most part....this has NEVER stopped people from reblogging or liking posts I make about pretty much any other topic....despite me not really coming across that differently in most of them, compared to how I come across in most of my past posts on topics of rape and abuse.

See....I'm in complete agreement with everyone who emphasizes that rape isn't a gendered issue. That it can and does happen to individuals of any gender or identity. But the reason why I've always found the focus on 'remember that men can be raped too' more performative than helpful is because for almost twenty years, I've been posting on these topics in various fandom spaces and trying to express that in my personal experience, something that REALLY deserves to be talked about more is the fact that rape is not gendered. But rape CULTURE very much IS.

Like it or not, we live in a very gendered society still. While yes, men can be raped too.....for a number of reasons - most of them born of sexism and misogyny in specific - the conditions, catalysts and reasons for men being raped are NOT interchangeable with those at work in instances of women being raped, as an example. Because the way society treats men and women in pretty much EVERY situation is different. Similarly, the way society REACTS to men and women disclosing they've been raped is different. And so on and so on.

So 'remember that men can be raped too' has some basis in societal claims that men can't be raped or that rape IS a gendered issue....but not as much as I think most people tend to believe. And twenty years after I first started searching out perspectives of other male survivors in online fandom spaces, beyond just real world physical support groups, I'm STILL hearing 'remember that men can be raped too' dominating all conversations about male survivors just as regularly and repetitiously as it was twenty years ago....as though the world has not changed at all, and the needle on this particular facet of male survivorhood hasn't changed an inch in the past two decades when no, actually, it very much has.

The reason why I feel so strongly about offering up my perspective as a male survivor in a relative absence of seeing other male survivors' perspectives circulated is I honestly believe the reason this is so consistently upheld as the biggest problem facing male survivors is its a carry-over from women attempting to be heard and believed when disclosing....which makes sense and is completely understandable....as long as there's a complete absence of male survivors offering up any perspective that's to the contrary.

But the fact that we live in a gendered society where rape culture, not rape itself, still very much IS gendered due to being a product of....living in a gendered society....means that the differences in how society treats and reacts to men and women affects every aspect of how society treats and reacts to men and women survivors. And that starts with disclosure itself. In my personal experience - and fully acknowledging that I don't speak for any other male survivor in this moment, and I absolutely do believe there are those who have experiences to the contrary, and that matters too - MY experience, which also matters, is that not once in the twenty years since I've started disclosing about my own rape, or the csa I experienced as a child - have I actually had an issue being believed.

With full acknowledgment of how unfair it is, how gross, the reality of living in a sexist, patriarchal society where male privilege very much exists, is that while men can be raped too, this traumatic thing that happened to us does not in any way actually invalidate or negate our male privilege. It doesn't turn it off for the duration of our experience or any time its relevant to our experiences going forward. We carry that privilege with us through our recoveries and the rest of our lives just as much as we did before it, because its an inalienable result of being in a society that allocates privilege solely on the basis of being born a man who identifies and presents as a cis man (with respect to trans individuals having another axis of experience that very much differentiates all matters pertaining to rape culture, in comparison to cis men, just as much as in the case of cis women, albeit in different ways).

And the gross unfortunate reality of our society is that it ALWAYS prioritizes believing men over women, in all matters......especially cis white men like myself.

So the simple fact is....even the act of disclosure - and the likelihood of being believed when voluntarily choosing to share the information that we've been raped - means that a cis white man like myself does not receive the same reaction as most women receive when attempting to share that same information. Society preconditions a lot of people to be more receptive to taking cis white men at their word, comparative to affording anyone else that basic respect.

Getting people to believe me when I say I was raped has never been the issue for me that other individuals face.

But that doesn't mean that my disclosure doesn't result in issues for me.

Because while being raped never invalidated or negated any of my cis white male privilege, neither did having cis white male privilege negate the possibility of me being raped - OR the fact that society ALSO preconditions people to be really fucking shitty about survivors.

(Hell, ANY kind of living victim....with this also being very relevant to abuse survivors, survivors of physical assault, etc. Much like people can be overflowing with empathy for unborn children who can't offer up any take to the contrary to whatever people want to say "in defense or support of unborn children," only to turn around and cease caring about most of those babies the second they're born, people tend to be just as overflowing with empathy for deceased victims of abuse, rape, assault and the like....who, y'know, also can't offer up any take to the contrary of whatever they say or claim about what they WOULD want, what they DO deserve, etc. Present those same people with a living child or a living victim who can and DOES have an opinion that doesn't match what those people feel it SHOULD be? Watch attitudes shift VERY quickly, as allllll that empathy hurriedly flushes down the drain as though it was never there).

But the point is, my cis white male privilege is always here regardless. But that doesn't mean rape culture isn't shitty enough that it can't find a way to circumvent even that in pursuit of discrediting/invalidating/ignoring survivors, just like that privilege can be circumvented in order to create the situation where a man is raped in the first place.

Its just....the gendered nature of rape culture means HOW those attempts to discredit/invalidate/ignore male survivors manifests.....doesn't look the same as when it leads to just outright disbelieving other survivors when they attempt to disclose.

And that is how I can be listened to and reblogged on most any other topic, no matter HOW I go about presenting myself in those posts or conversations - ironically in no small part BECAUSE of my cis white male privilege - while only getting crickets when I post on these topics, BECAUSE people only choose THOSE posts to make my presentation or level of intensity a dealbreaker, and thus their very reason for ignoring anything I have to say there. Not because they don't believe me, but because the WAY I say it is too aggressive, too biased, too emotional, too intense....its an attack on their autonomy, an attempt to override whatever they previously thought or believed about the subject and just force them to adhere to my take.

Because the thing about living in a sexist, patriarchal society is.....that IS a thing that cis white men often do, and a lot of society is structured to make it easier for us to achieve this in most instances, frankly. This just happens to be a rare exception, because for a lot of reasons that would make this post even longer - and that again, I've often posted about before - upholding and reinforcing rape culture on a society wide level supersedes the usual focus on accommodating INDIVIDUAL cis white men in having their opinions heard and circulated.

I'm trying to be as frank as possible here about the intersection of privilege and experiences of being a male survivor because I don't believe its to anyone's benefit to be disingenuous about it, and I do think that it doesn't actually supplant the fact that male survivors do have just as much right - and NEED - to be heard and listened to about our experiences with rape and perspective there, and have those ACKNOWLEDGED, as anyone else.

Its just....the existence of privilege and how that differentiates most experiences in a gendered society matters, and thus.....it needs to be part of the conversation rather than just treating all responses to rape and survivors as agendered, just because rape itself can and does happen to people of all genders.

There's actually a fair amount to get into when it comes to differences in a lot of mens' disclosures vs womens' in my experience, but just as an extension of what I'm talking about here, one of the specific elements in my experience is that men often don't have a problem being believed about having been raped or abused.....but one of the predominant responses is society is heavily preconditioned to view male rape and abuse survivors as almost inevitably feeling they need to exert a similar power over someone else in order to claim back their own feelings of pride and safety in their masculinity. Effectively.....most every male rape or abuse survivor I've ever talked with at length shares a similar experience of being believed when they disclose about being a survivor....but noting a clear and direct shift in how whomever they disclosed to interacts with them....with EVERY expression of anger or outrage - particularly in the matter of their rape or abuse - being viewed as evidence of us being ticking time bombs who are inevitably primed to explode and take out what happened to us on someone else.

There's being cautious around cis white men, for example, because we're cis white men, which I totally get and am not expressing an opinion on. I'm just saying even with that acknowledged, there is a SHIFT in how people interact with me after I've disclosed to them personally, in how they....scrutinize me, for lack of a better way of putting it, in very noticeable ways and areas. Like its consistent. And think about how its not totally true that media doesn't portray men as being capable of being raped or abused, typically. Think about how often you've seen procedurals where the backstory of the rapist or abuser of the week is specifically THAT they were a rape or abuse survivor themselves, usually in childhood. Its NOT that society doesn't believe or accept that men can be raped too. Its that society is primed to default to viewing the very act of men being raped as an indicator of the shift from them being a man to being a man who is likely to become a predator themselves.

Rape appears all the time in regards to male survivors in media. Its just it usually just appears in the context of men who arent presented AS survivors, but rather as predators or aggressors themselves, and their past victimization treated as a catalyst rather than a trauma. This is not to excuse any such character or depiction of course, its simply to emphasize that the very angle from which male survivorhood is approached in most contexts is different from that of other survivors. Just like the angle from which their survivorhood is approached is different from that of male survivors. And thus the issue most men have with disclosing in my experience is NOT that we're afraid we won't be believed....its that we're afraid once we disclose, we'll be viewed as inherently more dangerous because our victimization primes us to be that much more likely to inflict ourselves on others in some attempt to reclaim our masculinity.

And its categorically NOT about any group of survivors having it better or worse than others, which is why I LOATHE people saying variations of 'you wouldn't say that about this if it happened to a woman' because anyone attempting to pit male survivors against other survivors en masse is NOT doing so for my benefit or with my endorsement. The point is just that each way society and rape culture interacts with a different group of survivors presents different problems and issues that need addressing, and aren't interchangeable.

There is a REASON why the subject of Dick Grayson's anger - usually in the context of things that have happened to him - is so important to me, specifically in terms of ensuring that its treated as something he's allowed to have....rather than an indicator that he's going to messily explode his life in a way that impacts everyone around him negatively.

Now.....if you've never considered that aspect of rape vs rape culture and how it can differently affect and shape the experiences and recovery of cis male survivors versus trans male survivors and nonbinary survivors and survivors who identify as women.....I ask that you consider what else my perspective might be able to add to actually productive, meaningful conversations about rape, rape culture and survivorhood, that you never would have thought TO think about before, without male survivors bringing it up based on it having played a role in personal experiences.

And then I just ask that you please think about the implications of someone known for being a vocal presence in certain fandoms, with a fairly sizable number of posts widely circulating throughout them......never having posts about male rape and survivorhood circulated to any noticeable degree, despite writing DOZENS of them, in all kinds of different moods, ways and intensity levels.....and all of them while active in fandoms where male rape is regularly discussed or focused on due to certain characters or storylines......and ask yourselves if it maybe seems a little off for the disparity to be THAT large. Again: I have written DOZENS of posts on this topic. All with less than twenty notes. I'll be composing a masterlist of them in the near future as well, but for now I'm just saying. Please just think about that.

While I'm going to make an effort to be more deliberate in how I approach this topic in posts going forward, tonally and in terms of word choice, I do have a right to be just as passionate about it as any other topic, and it is FUCKED UP to think that my personal experiences here should be pointed to as the very REASON I should need to be LESS passionate than I am anywhere else, in order to be heard or listened to. Still. I am not actually trying to override anyone else's viewpoint, present myself as some kind of ultimate authority, or shut down other survivors in any way....I'm just trying to uphold the relevancy and importance of adding my own perspective to the conversation.

I don't want to be the only voice listened to here. But as long as my voice is relevant, and I don't see or hear a lot of other voices speaking from a similar standpoint, I would like to be a RESOURCE on topics of male survivorhood, rape and recovery, from that particular standpoint. And even if and when other male survivors might perchance add their own perspectives with experiences and takes contrary to mine....I welcome that! Because mine is not the only one, cis white male survivors are no more a monolith than anyone else, and none of that will in any way actually invalidate my own perspective or experiences or render them no longer relevant at all.

Being a resource on a topic that has always been everpresent in most fandoms I've gravitated to - which has often been a reason FOR me gravitating to those fandoms in specific.....that has always been my ONLY goal with these kinds of posts. NOT an authority.

So, having my posts - which for all my willingness to write them, has never been easy for me and probably never will - reframed in such a negative way, dismissed and even weaponized against me - has over the years demoralized me and made it harder to find the energy TO tackle these topics, as much as I'd like to. But I do feel that I've found a second wind when it comes to this and think I'm ready to wade back into being Overly Opinionated on these topics as well.

So that's the third of the three post series I'll be starting, "Kalen vs Topics of Rape, Rape Culture and Survivorhood As Perceived Through A Singular Personalized Cis White Male Lens, Presented By (and With) My Middle Finger At Any Attempts to Subvert Or Undermine My Thoughts On Them By Reframing Them As Me Trying To Gatekeep Male Survivorhood No Matter How Many Times I Use The Words IN MY EXPERIENCE or IN MY OPINION, Which I Do A Lot, Because This Has Been Happening For A Very Long Time, And I Am Tired, But Still Very Opinionated, And Still Very Here, So Bite Me I Guess."

.....I'm still workshopping that one's title. Its a process.

ANYWAY. At the moment, I'm aiming to make one post of each once a month, and if I do more than that great, but not trying to pressure myself to do any more than that at the moment in the interests of Realism. We'll play it by ear. If I have more free time or energy than expected, maybe I'll do more. Its not like I have a shortage of Very Opinionated Opinions, after all. You've met me.

BUT I DIGRESS.

So in the interest of not making this long ass post any fucking longer, not that anyone really expected otherwise from my first post back in months, like could I REALLY even claim to ACTUALLY be back if all I had to show for it was some weak little lackluster drabble that wasn't even 3,000 words? Methinks the fuck not -

Well, have an abrupt and anticlimactic finish that comes out of nowhere despite giving myself literally 4,900 words to build to something appropriately profound or meaningful or whatthefuckever. Y'know. Your standard Kalen Classic. The abrupt and anticlimactic wrap up I mean, not the profound and deeply meaningful one. Eh. You get it.

Did ya miss me? I missed you!

PS - I was Informed that we are almost to the end of Tommy T's Tenure, is it almost safe to come back to Nightwing comics? Does anyone know when his last issue is? Have we planned the party yet? Who's on balloons, we definitely need balloons.

[sirenspells]

[Persona 4 FEMC, Persona 5 FEMC]

Character sheets of my girls! Was inspired to do them after seeing Misty's one for Asuka hehe

[todayisafridaynight]

I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh

hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]

i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..

[catboybiologist]

So.

Re: tumblr bans of transfemmes.

Let's ignore PhotoMatt for a moment. Manbaby tech CEO doubling down on a stupid decision and making himself look like more of an ass doing so is not a new phenomena.

Tumblr has consistently said, in both public statements and leaked internal communication, that they're essentially running a skeleton crew.

They keep saying that they don't have the resources to moderate, manually review posts, have any kind of appeal process, or anything. So, as people have widely received communications about, they seemed to have automated a significant portion of the moderation to operate solely on the quantity of reports (probably with a basic filter, eg quantity of reports regarding a certain post, within a certain timeframe) to automatically ban or shadowban accounts.

And so, they wipe their hands, both to the users, the public, and their own consciousness, and go about their automated operations.

All of this is likely true. Tumblr, at this point, is essentially abandonware internally, a kind of weird vanity project/dumpster ground for server infrastructure for Automattic. Likely, they don't want the bad press of "shutting down" fully. Or maybe the trickle of revenue they get here just barely exceeds operating costs, so why not keep it around?

Whatever is the case, the bans are a result of an automated process working in the background. I'm giving them some benefit of the doubt here, of course, we can't know anything for certain- but it seems like the individual bans are not based on any specific, manual action.

And that doesn't fucking excuse anything.

Because at some point, multiple people sat down at tumblr, and decided how to cut costs.

And they decided that the bare minimum of report abuse prevention was one of the first things on the chopping block.

Before the boops. Before GUI reconfigures.

They decided to cut something that is necessary to manage online communities.

They decided to cut something that ensures any targeted group will have any kind of community online.

And then, after all of that, the only manual intervention is doubling down on the shitty decisions that the automated systems make, and plucking reasons out of their ass for why they were the right decisions all along.

It's pure silicon valley brain. Blame the computer often and always. Use it to shield the active decisions you made when designing the computer that way. Treat it as a fact of life as opposed to something they actively made decisions for.

Is tumblr staff hitting the banhammer on each transfemme one by one? No.

Is tumblr staff deliberately crafting a system that allows TERFs and other conservative bigots to get rid of the "undesirables" for them? Yup. But they sure as hell are trying to not say the quiet part out loud. If they can always point the finger somewhere else, to the advertisers, to the automated systems, to the TERFs, then they can always have juuusssttt enough plausible deniability.

But being the "queerest place on the internet" requires concious acknowledgement that queer people will be targets of harassment, and you will have to protect against that.

Side note, this is why I do try to keep my blog at least somewhat SFW. Its one of the main reasons why I choose not to reblog all of the posts I'm tagged in- if the post is overtly NSFW, I've probably seen it, appreciated it, and consciously decided my level of interaction with it mostly based on how "tumblr friendly" it is. Is that bowing down to them? A little. It's also my choice. I value the community I have here. The pushes that y'all have given me gave me the strength to transition, and honestly gives me a lot of motivation to research HRT biology as much as I can, among many other things.

Yeah, I post pictures that are clearly meant to be found attractive in ways that are generally not socially acceptable , but never actual NSFW. I would like to think that I'm pretty safe from bans, but hey. Who knows. I don't want to lose my follower base, and the community around it.

And yeah, I'm gonna annoyingly remind you of the other places to find me, make sure to check my pin. If you don't know where to go, just find me on reddit and go from there, I'll post about it if anything happens.

[nxuvillette]

TO FEEL WHOLE AGAIN — BOOTHILL

synopsis: getting pregnant and left by yourself wasn’t in your plans in life at all, but you end up meeting a man who becomes more than just a friend who’s willing to help.

❥- pairings : boothill x fem!reader

❥- note : so sorry for any inactivity !! life has just been a wreck, but i’m here with a little idea I came up with the other night. i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, pregnancy, abandonment, heavy angst, breakups, mentions of abortion (reader does not have one), mentions of alcohol, human!boothill, angst with happy ending, use of pet names (darling + lovely), fluff, very fluffy things.

You can recall the day you met Boothill like it was the back of your hand. 

It was the day your life had begun a completely new journey, but also, the same day that your life had completely fallen apart within just twenty four hours. Every memory was ingrained in your brain like it was never meant to go away. How could things end up going right, but so wrong at the same time?

About seven months prior, you found yourself sitting inside of a bar with tears still staining your cheeks from the incident that had occurred just hours beforehand. Your heart had gleamed, but shattered just minutes after. You questioned why something like this had happened to you. You never wronged anybody. Sure, you weren’t the most perfect person to exist, but as humans, it’s in their nature to make mistakes. Yet, god had different plans for you and they weren’t exactly the most pleasing ones.

Just two days before that day, you had found out you were pregnant. 

It came by total surprise. You and your boyfriend weren’t exactly trying for kids, but you both had been together for four years at that point. You noticed something was off about you when your period suddenly missed its usual day, and you were experiencing some very odd symptoms that were unusual. After some convincing from your friends, you decided to go out and purchase a pregnancy test which came back positive. You didn’t know what to feel. You were excited, nervous, emotional, but most of all, anxious. You didn’t know how to break the news to your boyfriend and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to keep it. 

For a few days, you didn’t say anything to him. You weren’t the best with words and you didn’t want to dump something so sudden onto him either, but he eventually figured it out when he found you one morning throwing up your breakfast into the toilet. 

He wasn’t angry or upset, but you knew something wasn’t right with him after he found out. He started to become somewhat distant and he avoided any conversation about the baby growing inside you. Then, that same day you ended up at the bar, you had woken up to him gone. All of his items and personal belongings had been cleaned out, and when you tried to get a hold of him, he just completely ghosted you. You didn’t understand. Was it you? Was it the baby? Why did he just up and leave you like that with zero hesitation? It was like your heart had been shattered into pieces and you didn’t know what to do. He left you alone and pregnant with his child. 

Completely brokenhearted and confused, that’s how you ended up in the bar. No, you weren’t drinking any alcohol, but there was a part of you that wanted to head to the clinic and terminate the pregnancy all together. You couldn’t raise a baby on your own. You had seen many stories of mothers defying the odds and managing, but would you be able to? You loved your now ex boyfriend more than life itself. You didn’t think you could fall in love again, and what man would want a single mother as a girlfriend? Most of them would scurry away the second it’s brought up. It wasn’t their job to shame you for whatever choices you made. 

The bar's atmosphere was buzzing with people chatting amongst themselves. Despite being around people, you still felt completely isolated inside of it. You kept thinking of the choices in your brain over and over again. It was consuming you, and you didn’t think you were in the right state of mind to make that decision right now.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the bartender placed a glass in front of you. It was filled with some kind of alcohol that looked like it could be a margarita or a martini. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the beverage. You didn’t order it. “U-Um.. sir, I didn’t order this.” you pushed the glass towards the man behind the bar who was cleaning some cups used earlier. 

“I know, but that man over there did.” he pointed towards the other end of the bar.

You turned your attention to where he was motioning his hand. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of the man who sat a few seats away from you. He had a cowboy hat on top of his head, and very long hair that stretched past his chair. He was wearing a white button up shirt that exposed his chest just a little. He noticed you were staring at him and winked at you, then waved a little. It didn’t seem creepy or strange, but you didn’t know how to react. Despite feeling the way you did, you couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. He had a cunning smile and seemed like one of those cowboys you would have heard of in stories you heard when you were younger, but you knew you couldn’t accept his drink. 

Soon enough, you turned away and just pushed your drink from your reach. You didn’t want to do anything stupid. If it came off as rude, then so be it. You weren’t about to fight with another man this evening. 

You decided to check your phone. There was a small bit of hope that was in your heart. You hoped that maybe your ex reached out to you to fix things or maybe had something to say, but unfortunately, there was nothing. You had a few random notifications from friends, but otherwise, it was silence on the other end. God, you felt like an idiot. He was gone for good. Men who do that shit typically fall off the face of the earth and never come back again. 

“Hey, sweetheart, mind if I take this spot next to ya?” 

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice that spoke beside you. Your head snapped towards the sound, and you were a bit surprised to see that man who was sitting across the bar now standing next to you. His cologne filled your nose. It smelled of deep wood with a mix of pine. 

Your words got caught in your throat. Was he doing this to make you uncomfortable? Part of you wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. “N-No! Go ahead.. it’s empty anyway..” you replied, trying to avoid his eyes that were boring holes into your face.

The man plopped beside you, taking a swig of his glass that seemed to be filled with some kind of whisky. He was quiet, at first. You weren’t sure if striking up a conversation was in your cards tonight. You were honestly too lost in your thoughts, and somewhat a little nauseated. “So, uh, do ya come around here often? You’re quite the peach if I say so myself.” he placed his cheek against his fist which was resting against the table beside him.

“I don’t..” you replied, dryly. 

He seemed a little discouraged by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t your intention, but really, you weren’t interested. “I see.. my name’s Boothill.” he said. “Yours?”

Your eyes flickered towards him then back at the soda can that your hand was wrapped around. This was starting to feel awkward or almost like a forced conversation. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you wanted him to take the hint. “(Y/N)..” you looked at your cell phone to try and avoid him. “Look.. I-I appreciate the drink, but I’m not really interested in a relationship. I just don’t.. I..”

Before you were even able to finish your sentence, tears began to trickle down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were holding them in until they began to slip from your eyes. 

Boothill was taken back by your sudden tears. He immediately felt guilt wash over him. He didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo or forceful towards you. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “Hey.. I’m sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-I can totally take the drink back and get out of your hair.” he stood up out of his chair to leave the bar. 

You started to wipe your cheeks of any liquid that was on them. “N-No, it’s alright, it’s not you..” you shook your head. “I’ve just had a rough couple of hours.. believe me, it’s not you at all.” 

The man was unsure of what to reply with. Regardless, he felt very bad for you. Not many people come into bars to weep. Most of the time, they come to do the opposite and use the drinks to numb any negative feelings they have. He didn’t want to pry by any means. “I see.. I’m still sorry,  darlin’ I had no idea..” he paused for a moment thinking of what to say next. “If you wanna talk, I’m willing to listen, can’t guarantee I’m any good at advice, but I can be an open ear.”

You weren’t sure if venting your feelings to a complete stranger would make any difference in how you felt. It's not like he would care much anyway. He would probably look at you with that same look every other person had given you when you told them what your ex did. 

However, you were completely wrong.

That day you told Boothill everything that had happened to you. He was completely blown away when you confessed that you were pregnant. He kept apologizing for the drink and was somewhat worried that you felt disrespected, but you didn’t take any offense. It’s not like he knew, nor were you even showing at that point. 

Although he didn’t know you, he had a lot of sympathy for you. He told you that your boyfriend wasn’t a man, but a young boy who couldn’t take responsibility for his actions and he didn’t deserve you by any means. Boothill felt as if abandoning a woman and her child was the sickest thing you could ever do in this life, and you couldn’t help but agree. Especially after spending many years together. 

It felt kind of nice to have someone listen. Even if he was some random person you didn’t know, there was at least somebody out there who was willing to give you the time of day. 

You felt a little dull when you realized you would probably never see Boothill again, but you thanked him many times for his patience. He was even sweet enough to walk you back to your apartment which wasn’t very far from the bar at all. Typically, you weren’t so trusting when it came to men in general, but Boothill’s energy felt secure for some reason. You didn’t feel fear or unease around him. Your body would always give you signs someone wasn’t good, but you were calm and didn’t have a single issue. 

For a little while, you wondered if keeping the child was the right option, but after a lot of conversations with your friends and family, and oddly enough, Boothill, you decided to go forward with the pregnancy. 

You thought you would have to do it alone, but that changed almost instantly when you started receiving random items at your doorstep one morning. 

You had a stable job, but you knew babies weren’t a walk in the park financially. Your parents offered to help pay for whatever was necessary, but you felt bad for making them do such a thing. It all started to shift when you discovered a package outside your apartment door. You had a box of different supplies. Baby shampoo, baby bottles, wipes, lotions. It was basic necessities for an infant and you were a bit confused how they showed up there. You questioned your parents but they denied ordering anything of the sorts, so you wondered who gifted it to you. 

Your friends were also clueless. They had gifts in mind but they weren’t planning on purchasing anything that early on in your pregnancy. You hadn’t even planned on a baby shower or anything of the sorts. 

It didn’t take long for more things to arrive. One morning, you saw that you had been given some baby toys. They were small and quite cute, but you still had yet to discover who was the one leaving them at your doorstep. You wondered if it was potentially your ex trying to somehow compensate you for deserting you, but would he really? He left you alone with the baby. It was clear enough that he wasn’t interested in helping to raise it, so why put in the effort to accommodate you? He could care less about you. 

It all changed when you were leaving your apartment one afternoon. You had an appointment at the doctor’s office to check on how the baby was doing, and standing right beside your front door was not your ex, but Boothill.

At first, you didn’t notice him holding a box of items in his hand, but the realization soon took over that he was the one buying the gifts. You were taken by complete surprise. The two of you had hardly interacted much during that time period, so it did confuse you why he was helping you. He wasn’t obligated to just because you informed him of what your ex did. It wasn’t like you were begging him for money or assistance either. Boothill was just as surprised to see you there too. He usually would stop by when he knew you wouldn’t be around, but he knew sooner or later the truth would come out.

With a flushed face, Boothill began to explain himself. 

He told you that he just couldn’t let you go on that journey alone. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be buying you things or even being involved in your life like that, but at the same time, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were all alone and there wasn’t anybody else to be there for you. He did apologize if it made you uncomfortable and he wouldn’t come around again if that was the case. 

However, you told him the opposite. You were very thankful for what he had been doing for you. Not many men would step up and just go out of their way to buy things for a baby that wasn’t theirs. You told him you were very appreciative of what he had done, and he could come around as often as he liked. It was kind of lonely being by yourself all of the time. Your friends weren’t always the most available, and you lived on your own. It felt nice to know that somebody wanted to spend time with you. He was relieved that you weren’t weirded out or upset with his actions. He wanted to do the right thing. 

Much to his surprise, you invited him to come to your ultrasound that day, and he was thrilled.

Your interactions grew over the course of a few months. You started seeing him everyday and he came around whenever you needed something. Boothill didn’t mind spending his days with you. It was a joy to watch your belly grow and to see your baby begin to become larger than it was before. His favorite moments were when he’d feel a small kick or movement. He loved kids. It was a guilty pleasure of his, and he honestly couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl. He made so many bets that it was going to be a girl and you thought he would somehow be wrong, but he was right the entire time. 

Along with the baby's growth, there were also feelings between you and Boothill too. He was the first man in your life since your ex and he treated you so much better. He did everything for you, and the baby wasn’t even his. He would spend time helping you tidy up your house, holding your hair away from your face when you had morning sickness, making you tea, giving you massages whenever your body felt sore. Boothill did everything. He even offered at one point to do the entire nursery for you when your due date came closer, but you assured him that it wasn’t his duty to do so. 

But, he planned on doing it anyway.

All of your friends told you to go for it. They said that Boothill was what you needed and they could tell he was into you too, but you were still unsure. If anything, he could be doing all of this just to somehow hurt you in the end or claim you “owed” him a relationship for doing everything for the baby. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but you were still on the fence.

But, was he?

-

That afternoon, you had woken up from a nap to a knocking coming from your front door. You weren’t expecting any guests, but you had already assumed it was Boothill who was there to do his usual drop by to check in on you. 

You unlocked the front door, pulling it open so he could enter. He was dressed in his usual outfit. A white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those cowboy boots that you had made fun of a few times. Boothill was used to just entering your place at that point. “Afternoon, darlin’” he said, shutting the door behind him. 

Your hair was a bit messy from your nap and you weren’t really dressed up. You wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts that sat just below your belly. It was a lot more comfortable than the regular pajamas you were used to wearing months ago, but alas, the growth of your body had made those a lot less comfortable these days. Boothill still thought you were gorgeous despite the messy look. “Hi..” you yawned. “Sorry, I’m fresh from a nap. I didn’t hear my alarm..”

“Not a problem, I was just stopping by to drop something off for you.” he replied, handing you a box that had your name on top of it.

Your eyes flickered from the box to the man who was staring down at you. You were used to him giving you random things for the baby here and there, so you were expecting something that was a necessity. “I’m curious, let me see.” you then began opening at the box to see what was inside of it.

After a few seconds, you pulled out a small blanket, but it wasn’t one that was from the store. It was actually homemade, and right in the center was the baby name you had picked out stitched into the fabric with baby pink lace. It was probably the most adorable thing you had ever received from him. It was so soft and you could already picture yourself swaddling your little girl in the blanket itself. The fact that it was homemade as well made it even more special than it already was. 

You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy emotions or not, but you could feel warm tears burning your eyes. It was truthfully making you feel so happy for this pregnancy, but most of all for Boothill. You couldn’t be more blessed with a man like him. “I-I.. I love it..” you sniffled, trying to hide your tears. “It’s so cute..”

Boothill was concerned with your sudden emotions. He didn’t mean to make you cry. If anything, he wanted to do something special for you since you were a special person in his life. “Ahh.. shit, I’m sorry, lovely, is it too much?” he asked, nodding his head. 

You shook your head, laughing in the process to try and halt the tears slipping through your eyes. It was the furthest thing from too much. You adored it. You didn’t care if the stitching was a little crooked or if the pink was somewhat bright, it was cute. It had to be one of the best gifts you had ever gotten. “N-No! I love it! It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined you’d give me! Did you do it all on your own?” you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha.. yeah, that’s why it might seem a little messy. I got the idea though and figured why not? You need something to swaddle that little monster with!” he smiled, which made you smile as well.

Boothill was taken back when he suddenly felt your arms wrap around him. This was the first time you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact with him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. Your body felt warm and your belly was against his own abdomen. He could smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, and it almost intoxicated him from how delicious it smelled. He hesitated for a brief moment, then settled his own arms around your waist. It just felt.. so right to be hugging you. He had yearned for quite a while to feel your touch, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

Your cheeks felt hot at the realization that you two were so close. There was so much going through your mind at the moment, and all you craved was him. His presence, his touch, his warmth, anything. It was all you wanted. “Boothill.. I want you there when she’s born..” you spoke, softly. “I want you by my side.. you deserve that more than anybody else.”

His eyes grew wide at your words. Sure, he knew he was going to visit when your baby was finally born, but in the room? During the birth? Oh, he could faint right about now. “Of course I’ll be there, sugar. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” he replied, smiling at the thought of your birth. 

Boothill then crouched down to meet your belly. He hadn’t ever done that before while being with you. You felt his hands touch your stomach, seemingly searching for your little girl who was somewhere in there. It felt so natural for him to be doing this. You didn’t feel off or weirded out. You loved the way his fingers explored your skin, touching and grazing at the stretch marks that had formed within time, but what you loved the most, was him.

“Can’t wait to meet your little one.. she’ll be a peach, I know it.” he looked up at you with a grin. 

“Our.. little one.”

Boothill paused when the words slipped from your lips. He thought he had misheard you for a second. “W-What..?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You felt a little bashful having to repeat yourself. You weren’t sure what his reaction might be to you saying such a thing, but you couldn’t keep quiet anymore about your feelings. You wanted him involved in your daughter’s life so badly. It would kill you inside if that wasn’t the case. “O-Our.. baby, Boothill.” you said, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you.

He stood up, still staring at your face with a serious expression. It was like his heart had completely blown up inside of his chest. It was like he was falling in love with you all over again at that very moment. He couldn’t feel more honored that you thought of him that way. “You’re serious..?” he questioned, looking into your eyes. 

“Y-Yes.. god, yes, Boothill. I don’t care if she’s not technically yours.. in the end, I want you in her life, and mine too. I can’t imagine a life without you..” you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.

He couldn’t hide his wide smile at your confession. All of the love he had swallowed down was now completely overflowing, and he didn’t mind whatsoever. You were so beautiful. He adored you so much, and he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. He was also thrilled to have a daughter. He could care less if people would judge him for raising a child that wasn’t his. He was more of a father to her than any other man would be. 

He suddenly pulled you close to him, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It was so passionate and loving. He couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was finally able to have what he wanted, and it felt amazing. “I love you so much, darling, you don’t even know how deep my love runs for you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. “I’d die for you and our little angel..”

A grin appeared on your face. This was all you ever wanted to hear. You didn’t think you would ever have the opportunity to hear him say such things, but you couldn’t be happier it was coming true. “I love you more, Boothill.” you then placed his hand on your belly. “And I know she does too..”

The both of you couldn’t be more excited at that moment. It was all perfect. You had everything you ever wanted. Neither of you imagined that this life would be in front of you now, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[reiderwriter]

Hello there baby, are your parents bakers? Cause you're a cutie pie lol sorry couldn't resist the urge to flirt with my favorite writer💕How have you been? How was your day? I wish you a wonderful day and a lovely night💕

It's my first time here sending an ask but lately I've been thinking about shy!Spencer x flirty!reader, I just think is such a cute couple.

So if you're taking requests, I was thinking about early seasons Spencer completely falling for the reader and the way she's so flirty but sweet and kind, the way he'd be blushing hard at anything she says and how he'd like the way she's always touching him cause he felt cherised and desired.

It could be fluff or smut or both cause I can picture them going slow with the relationship but Spencer being eager to please her and show how much he loves everything about her.

You said about choosing a emoji, so can I be the 🐇anon?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Shy Spencer is the best because he's so dumb and silly and doesn't realize when people are attracted to him. I've said it before, but he's basically every nerdy main character in 00s romcoms that are "unattractive" because they wear glasses. I hope you enjoy the fic~♡

Warnings: mentions of case details, slight spoilers for upto s5

With a degree in law and a deep-rooted hatred of businessmen, you'd certainly found your calling in one of the FBI White Collar divisions. Putting away the sleazy bastards was easily one of the biggest perks of the job, but every coin had a second side, and yours was you actually had to interact with the cretins before you could take them down. 

You'd dealt with bribes, dinner invites, and sexual propositions more than a time or two, and had to remind yourself that kicking anyone of them clean in the balls was most likely a firing offense, if not legally off the table. 

The man in the case you were currently working - possibly Bill Hodges, possibly Daniel Brady, possibly so many more men - had been a typical white collar freak until he'd moved on to murder. And when you'd been so close to nailing his ass for fraud, too. 

You'd had no choice but to call in whatever unit it was that actually got to put bullets in the bastards, sure that you were going to be strong-armed out of months of work for the glory of taking down a spree killer. 

Instead, you got Spencer Reid, delivered freshly to your desk like a lamb to slaughter. 

“Sorry, you're the agent from the BAU?” You asked, raking your eyes across his body, smiling at his obvious discomfort with the attention. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid. I'm here for more information on the Hodges files.” 

You dusted your skirt off as you stood, moving around the desk to grab the file. You held it out to him but pulled it back when he reached for it.

“I'm sorry, you're really in the BAU?” An embarrassed look fell across his face, and you instantly felt shitty. 

“Do you want to see my credentials?” 

“No, I'm sorry, it's just - I wasn't expecting someone so…pretty?” 

The embarrassed look deepened to a flush, and you brightened at the sight. You weren't lying. He really was pretty, and you hoped your comment hadn't come off as patronizing. 

“You're adorable. Here's the file, I’ll be at your team briefing in half an hour. Spencer, right?” 

He nodded, finally waking up and taking the files as you pushed it against his chest, using the movement to step slightly closer. 

“I'll see you later then,” you trailed your look down, getting a good look at all of him before meeting his eyes again. “Save me a seat?” 

“I should… I'll, uh, go now. Thanks for the-” he stammered, pointing to the file, backing out of your space slowly, like an animal trying not to show its back to a predator. 

Unlike the long line of scumbags filling the halls and case files of your floor, Spencer was without bravado or ego. His lack of both meant that you were interested. You were very interested. 

Half an hour later, you practically sprinted to the 6th floor, bouncing up the stairs to the office where you'd take your meeting like a giddy school girl. 

“Hello, sorry, I'm not late, am I?” You asked, quietly opening the door and letting yourself in. 

“Agent Y/N, no, perfect timing, Penelope was just about to brief us on your case,” Hotch said, rising and giving your hand a firm shake. He looked around to find a seat to usher you into, but you quickly dropped yourself into the seat right beside Spencer Reid, grin deepening as he flushed and offered you an awkward yet endearing smile. 

Unconsciously, you shifted closer, shooting him your own smile before the meeting officially began, and you were forced to keep a straight, serious face. 

The entire case progressed in much the same way, with you doing everything you could to fluster Spencer Reid and him doing everything in his power to convince himself you were being friendly. 

“Spencer, do you have a phone number?” You asked after slipping out of the meeting, trailing him back to his desk. 

“Yeah, we have to keep connected for cases, so I have a phone.” 

“Great. Your number - what is it?” 

He rattled off the digital as you scribbled them down on a notepad. 

“And Hotch's number is-” 

“Oh, I won't need that. Thanks, Spencer.” You said waving as you left to slink back to your desk. You could hear him calling out behind you, confused. 

“Y/N… Y/N, we split up on cases often, if there's an incident and you need to contact us it's better to have all of the team members numbers,” he panted, jogging to catch up with your focused pace. 

“If I need to contact you, I'll take myself to Agent Garcia’s office and use her direct line,” you said, finally stopping yourself at the elevator and pressing the button. 

He caught up, and stopped abruptly next to you. 

“Oh… oh, yeah that's… that's efficient.” 

You stepped onto the elevator when it arrived, leaving Spencer hesitating whether or not to climb in himself, desperately wondering why you'd ask for his number then. 

“Goodbye, Doctor Reid,” you said, pressing the door close button and blowing him a kiss just before the doors blocked you from sight. 

To tell the truth, you'd had a lot of fun flirting with Spencer on the phone from Penelope’s office during the case. The woman was an inspiration, even if her flirting had a completely different purpose and meaning than your own. Her friendship with Derek Morgan was admirable, but you didn't want to be friends with Spencer Reid. 

“Hello, handsome, what can I do for you today?” You asked, picking up the phone and basking in the stammers that answered you down the line. 

“D-Do you need me to get Morgan for you?” He said, his voice treading lightly. 

“Unless Derek Morgan has, overnight, managed to turn into a 6’1 Doctor with a penchant for cardigans and leather satchels and an IQ of 187, then I am absolutely not looking for him. I have case details.” 

He brushed past your comment, but he kept the slight stammer through the conversation, right until you signed off. 

“Until next time, sexy.”

“Um, yeah… thanks…beautiful?” he signed off, and you guffawed in laughter even as Penelope stared wide-eyed in your direction, not believing her ears. 

“Please forgive our little test tube genius. We forgot to add flirting skills to his childhood curriculum, and now, alas, the poor thing doesn't know a damn thing.” 

He'd called back a few hours later, and you'd purred more compliments down the line, but this time with the team surrounding him as they closed in on your unsub. 

“Hello, this is beautiful speaking. How may I help you?” You giggled down the line, picking up the call after only a single ring. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, catching his breath awkwardly as he struggled to remember why it was you were needed. 

“So… um, like… Hotch has a question about the files you sent earlier. He needs Penelope to… do something as well.” 

You could almost see the awkward nod through the phone. 

“Great. Pass me over to Hotch, then, hot stuff.” 

You heard the tell-tale sound of Derek Morgan’s cackle in the background, and you couldn't help but let another giggle slip out. You were a gonner, and, hopefully, so was he. 

The case wrapped quickly after that, spree killing being a quick game of cat and mouse out of necessity. You weren't happy with three bodies, but it sure as hell was preferable to more. 

You greeted the BAU team at the jet hanger as they returned, reclaiming your fraud files for paperwork and using that simple chore as a reason to get close to Spencer again. 

“Good work out there, Doctor Reid.” 

“What, he's not hot stuff anymore now he's in front of you?” Emily Prentiss laughed, throwing her go bag onto her shoulder and trailing behind where you'd started strolling alongside Spencer. 

“Oh, he's still hot stuff. He's just hot stuff with three PhDs that just stopped a spree killer,” you said, sighing dreamily. “How do you do it?” 

“We were all there too, you know,” the other woman chuckled as you made it inside the building and to the elevator. 

“Yeah, well,” you said, taking a second to reach out and straighten out Spencer's skewed tie, smoothing his jacket and generally just touching him in whatever way you could, respectfully. 

You didn't even bother to finish your sentence, just leaning closer to his ears and whispering directly into them. 

“You're very cute when you're flustered, Doctor Reid.” 

You stepped away for a second while the rest of his team teased him, stepping to the back of the elevator to ascend to your floor while the others departed on theirs. 

They filed out one by one and you sent them off with a smile and a wave, signing in defeat as you realized there was no longer a reason for you to interact with the good doctor ever again. 

If you weren't so stupidly aware of him, you'd almost have missed the fact that Spencer didn't leave the elevator when his teammates did. He instead turned to you and, with the brightest red you'd seen on his face to date, stammered out half a sentence. 

“I.. Y/N, I was just… curious, if you, by any chance…” 

Your eyes widened in joy as you anticipated his question, silently begging him just to spit it out. 

“I was wondering, i-if you had… a boyfriend?” By the end of his sentence, even he seemed unsure of whether that was a question he should really be asking. 

You'd been throwing heart eyes at him for says, and he was asking if you were in a committed relationship. 

“No,” you said slightly breathily, as if your body were trying to expel all the anticipation it had stupidly built up. “No, I don't have a boyfriend, Spencer.”

“Great okay,” he smiled, a boyish grin if you'd ever seen one, before backtracking quickly.

“Well not great for you, great for me. Not that you can't be happy alone, I don't know how you feel about…romantic entanglements and I-I-I’m not saying that your life isn't,” he searched for the words with his hands, as of he could grasp them as a life line while he was sinking fast. “-Great without a boyfriend or anything like that, I'm just - really - pleased that position is currently… vacant?” 

“Spencer?” You said, feeling like a cat who got the cream as a smile twitched at your lips, pulling the corners up as you listened to him ramble. 

“Yes?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend  or are you asking for a friend?” 

You'd meant the words as a joke  but he stood contemplating for a second. You pushed a hand against your mouth to suppress the childish squeal from popping out. 

“It would be a bit presumptuous to shoot straight for boyfriend, right? How about date ....partner?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from closing in on him then, practically cornering him in the elevator as the floors passed you by.

“Presumptuous would be thinking I could have a boyfriend when I've been begging you to stick your tongue down my throat with my eyes for the last half hour. I thought they taught you body language at the BAU?” 

“They teach us how to catch criminals, not how to see when someone is giving us…fuck me eyes, Y/N.” The curse left you a little dizzy - this was it, this was what you'd been trying to do all week, to get under his skin and get him to let his guard down so you could capture him. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm a little scandalized! I didn't know you swore. What a dirty mouth you have.” You reached up with both hands, letting your thumb on his lips before pretending to wipe something away at the corner of his mouth. You were in the perfect position to notice his throat bob as he swallowed.

The elevator pinged at your floor, and you left him behind you with one last swipe of your fingers at his chin. You weren't expecting him to follow, but he did.

“Y/N…please, Y/N…. Can we just…?” You relished the awkwardness in his voice as he trailed you again, a satisfied smile settling onto your face. 

You just kept walking. Or you did until you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you sideways into the nearest storage cupboard. 

You gasped as he pinned you to the wall, close not, but his eyes still hesitant on what to do next. 

“Spen-” He cut you off with his lips on yours, silencing you before you could get the final word. His lips were clumsy at first, but you felt hot under his touch  arching yourself up into him. His tongue pushed into your mouth as he found his stride, your hands tangling in his hair as you held on for dear life.

This was it. This was what you'd been waiting for. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away, both of you gasping for breath to fill your suddenly empty lungs. 

“Was that….what… you wanted?” He panted, resting his head on yours. 

There were no words. It was what you wanted but now you wanted more, needed more. You settled for a quick nod as your tongue flamed, unable to say anything helpful. 

“Good. Great…” he removed his hands from you and scratched at the back of his neck, putting a more respectful distance between the two of you as he cleared his throat. 

“I'll just-” he pointed to the door and started making his way out. You sighed again, watching him walk away down the hall, his hair a mess, his tie askew, and a whole lot of your lipstick staining his lips. 

Surely, he'd notice by the time anyone else did. If not, you'd just effectively staked your claim on Doctor Spencer Reid, and you couldn't be happier about it.  

[heartfullofleeches]

Consider, male secretary darling, summoned by accident to work in an office of demons ☝️🤑

Male secretary darling who starts off his new career as a jobless nobody down on his luck searching for whatever opportunity is handed to him. The ad that popped up in his email said it was a janitorial position. Pay was pretty decent too- Not much information beyond that and a phone number, but he's sure the finer details will be laid out once he makes the call.

"Jan-it-or? Ohhhh, yea we just put whatever on those ads so people will answer. You'd be surprised by how quickly your kind try to quit. What you'll be doing is far easier than whatever that is!"

"What is the job then?"

"Well, you already seem good at talking over the phone. Do you think you can manage a coffee machine?"

"I guess."

"And do you think you would good in a skirt?"

"....I guess?"

"Perfect! Then your employment begins....immediately. Happy to have you apart of the team!"

That was weird- Darling goes to hang up his phone only to find the four corners of his bedroom morphed into the walls of an office lobby. Fright and panic ensues, intensified by the unholy beasts sitting on either side of him. What appears to be a woman missing the top part of her head applies another coat of lipstick to her plump lips on his right- a lanky figure wrapped in medical bandages rehearsing its resume to a decapitated head in its many hands on his left-

This is all a dream?

" 'fraid not, fresh meat. You are one of few mortals to have the privilege to work here at our lucrative place of business. Us demons need some way to manage all the work we do up top with your kind. Our glorious boss came up with the idea for our company eons ago- Modern times call for modern changes and all that."

"Can. Can you explain the reason by the skirt thing you asked me about?"

"Company policy. Best to leave it at that."

The higher ups take an immediate liking to their new toy. For one thing, the fear wears off after his second day on the job. He really needs the money after and they can't be that much worse than his old colleagues. An additional bonus is how well he wears that skirt of his. The way it clings to his figure, how it rides up his thigh when he picks up something a coworker "accidentally" dropped on the floor. A soul with a body that appetizing was ripe for the picking-unfortunately company policy forbid them from striking a deal with their favorite mortal. Hardly any of them want to get rid of Darling with how willing to please he is- doing everything he can to fulfill their needs in a professional sense. If only that meant joining them or a date or allowing those with tails to sneak the appendage beneath his skirt during office hours.

Even the big boss himself has a soft spot for the new secretary- Dialing back his authoritive demeanor in favor of greeting the human with the gentleness he deserves.

(I'm rocking with this, y'all want more?)

[beautouslysandy]

a pretty little valentines for you and me

by: sandy

dallas winston x gn!reader

word count: 380 words

warnings: mushy, lowercase intended, lovey-dovey things, super short, basically just love in one big bucket :)

a/n 💌: i am back!!!! this is super late but a fellow fanfic author invited me to write a fanfic for valentines but um..your girl kinda forgot. so here it is! enjoy! sorry its so short, i am trying to get back into writing! i hope y'all like this, its been a hot minute since i have written fanfic!

----------------------------------------------------------

"so, do you like it doll?" dallas asks nervously, he is rarely nervous

you and dallas were currently at y'all's favorite diner. in y'all's booth. dallas had just given you a promise ring. you were shocked. you didn't think that the dallas winston would be into this kind of thing.

you look up at him and nod, smiling. your eyes are a bit watery, you think its just from the overflow of emotions you have felt all day.

this had been the best valentines day ever.

"i really like it, babe," you say smiling then you glance back at the promise ring on your left middle finger. its an infinity sign ring and it fits you perfectly.

"its my promise to...." dallas began, he cleared his throat and his face grew red ever so slightly, then he proceeded to look down. he mumbled. "you know love you forever or whatever, doll."

you were grinning from ear to ear now, partly because of how sweet the gesture was but also because you knew that meant a lot coming from him.

"i love you more." you joke

dallas looks at you with his goofy grin you have grown so fond of.

"no way in hell is that possible doll." dallas says chuckling

the waiter finally brought your food to y'all, you had been waiting thirty-five minutes. far too long for a local town diner.

"what took so damn long?" dallas said to the waiter, returning to his old self and not the lovey dovey mess he was only a minute ago.

"sorry, the kitchen is really backed up." the waiter says handing us our food.

"sure it is, this place is packed." dallas says sarcastically as he bites into his burger. you hold down a laugh, as you didn't want to embarrass the waiter further.

the diner was empty besides the normal 8 o'clock crowd, which was just a few young adults and old people.

the waiter walks away, and you start laughing, you catch dallas looking at you with seemingly stars in his eyes.

"what?" you ask, your laugh dying down

"nothing, doll" he says smirking then goes back to eating

"happy valentines" you say grinning

"happy valentines, doll" dallas says and he bends over the table and kiss you softly

p.s. sorry i am so late to this @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me

[droopywrites]

did you ever did a part 2 to jjk dudes meeting their child who’s from the future?

⋆｡Part || of JJK MEN meeting their future kids｡⋆

Author's notes: I don't think I've posted it! Considering it kind of left my mind and the old draft is gone, but I did write everything I remember here. Also, it's like 3am and I wrote this crying, not proofread.

CW: Swearing, killing, cannibalism(?) like mention of eating people, children.

Pronouns used for the kids: She/her for Geto and It/its for Sukuna.

Part | (Warning, it's from 2021)

Geto

Starting off strong with Geto.

Definitely another girl. He's such a girl dad.

On a regularly scheduled day like always; it was wake up, talk with his connections, mingle with his family, check on Mimi and Nana, see whatever the hell the non-sorcerers wanted, get greeted by a little girl that wasn't supposed to be on the estate...

What the fuck.

How did she even get here? Why is she here?

Geto would stare at this child in confusion and look around, waiting for someone to claim her.

He has a soft spot for children. Sorcerers, of course. Non-sorcerers, debatable.

So, low and behold this little girl running up to him to clutch at his robes. Him trying to pry her off of him with her relieved cries of "Papa! Papa!" escaping her lips.

Papa?

Holds her by the shirt's scruff like a cat and squints, ready to scold her but pauses when he sees her face.

Because, holy shit, that's literally his twin. And suddenly every rare hookup played in his mind.

But no, she looked no older than 3. He hadn't been with anyone at that time, or ever yet. Not that far.

Drops everything for the next couple of days just to make sense of the situation, only telling his beloved family.

Mimi and Nana fawn over the idea of a little sister but are a bit restrictive if it's not a permanent thing.

The girl didn't speak much except for addressing Geto, the twins, oh and you.

You...?

You.

You.

You, who had just returned from your trip overseas to oversee some tasks involving curses.

You, who the little girl immediately ran to and called "Mama! Mama!"

You, who Geto stared wide-eyed at and surprised as you two tried to settle the fact nothing even happened between you.

Yet.

When that little girl eventually left to her own time, with everything still fresh and confusing, Geto eventually approached you.

Because, well, he wanted to see that little girl again.

After few dates, then a relationship, then marriage. Maybe.

Sukuna

Listen, he is NOT spreading those cursed genes of his pre-human/post-cursed-spirit.

Man hates love.

But, during the Heian period. When some stupid kid wandered into his life as if it always belonged there, maybe, maybe, there was something else in that space in his chest but hunger and his definition of love.

So, there it was. Whatever it was. Standing there with large eyes focused on him with a semblance of admiration and malice.

"What are you looking at, brat?"

"You."

The audacity of this thing. He killed it immediately.

And then it came back. So, he killed it again. And again. And... what the fuck.

This little shit was persistent.

His kid. He doesn't know how. But definitely his kid.

A worthy successor? Fuck no, he's not dying or leaving it as some birthright to a hindrance.

Learning of its origins was pretty interesting, to say the least.

"Not a human? I figured. A curse made from me, huh? Someone weak must hate me so much."

That meant a human parent. Or multiple human parents. Gross.

He wasn't getting into that.

The kid was though.

It often visited this village to... eat? Kill? Fight? Whatever makes it happy.

...

The hell do you mean it was visiting its human mother?

It had a mother? It had a mother that cursed him so much it resulted in a personalized cursed child?

He could see it stare longingly at that woman's village and before he could even kill her, his offspring said goodbye.

"I'll see you in the future, yeah?"

And then Sukuna was sealed.

He probably searched for his offspring in the Modern era.

Author's notes 2: Stopping with these two because it's been a while since I've posted seriously on this account, 2 years? Maybe I've gotten better, maybe not. This was the idea but with updated better minds. Maybe I'll do the others separately again, Yuji, Yuta, Megumi, Toge. Just did the adults first. Doing Choso and Higuruma definitely.

[melbatron5000]

The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies. Edit: Found it!

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.

[meosq]

BAKER

“함께한 기억처럼 , 널 보는 내 마음은 “

summary ; in which Bonten finds out about Mikey’s lover who he tried ever so hard to keep a secret….

genre ; fluff

warnings ; Bonten!mikey, spoilers (?) , fem!reader , cursing , violence ( i mean its bonten??)

It was a calm and setting afternoon in Tokyo, where the streets weren’t as busy and people could actually hear their thoughts.

A rather short man walked across the streets as his dark locks swayed in the wind. The sounds of his munching and quickening pace overtook the quiet streets. He walked at this pace until he reached a certain café which was closing due to the lack in customers today.

“oh where closing right now! Sorry for incon-“ a sweet voice was heard through the empty cafe as the door opened indicating a so called “customer”.

“hi [n/n]-chin!!!” The black haired male stated almost imitating the sweet voice of the female.

“Oh, Manjiro! I wasn’t expecting you!! Aren’t you meant to be in a meeting right now?” [Y/N] stated as she moved away from cleaning the counter tops.

“Missing a meeting to see you shouldn’t be a problem! “ Manjiro stated as he walked towards her ,hugging her as if he hadn’t seen her this morning!

“But manjiro..” [y/n] pouted as she looked at him. “You know they don’t know about us, they might think something has happened to you..” [y/n] stated worriedly as she hugged manjiro back.

“Its okay. I’ll handle things, don’t worry your sweet little head about anything.” Manjiro stated as he took [y/n]’s hand and walked towards the locker room.

“How about we have a little fun since where both not busy at the moment…” manjiro smirked while grabbing the door behind him.

“Manjiro-“

meanwhile, at Bonten’s HQ

“Has anyone seen Mikey? We where meant to start the meeting an hour ago and no-ones heard from him?” A pink haired man stated standing up from the meeting desk.

“Im going to go look for him.” The pinkie stated again.

“Ill come with, you can’t be trusted alone sanzu..” a scar faced man stated also standing up from his seat.

“shut up , kakucho..” sanzu stated. “Lets go then”

“How are we even going to find him?” kakucho stated

“I have a gps on his phone.” Sanzu stated calmly almost as if that wasn’t weird as hell.

“What the fuck?” Kakucho stated confused as hell.

“What?” “I had to, you know how he runs off..” Sanzu stated trying to defend himself , which only resulted in a look from kakucho.

“Whatever” sanzu grumbled.

“It says he’s at this cafe.. weird” sanzu stated looking at where mikey’s GPS was.

“Well then? Lets go check it out” kakucho said as he stepped on the peddle.

meanwhile mikey & [y/n]

“M-manjiro…” [y/n] stated as she fixed her uniform and hair. “You need to stop doing this in public.. what if someone walked in” [y/n] stated blushing at the thought of her customers seeing her so lewd..

“Then so be it. They’ll know you’re mine.” Mikey stated calmly fixing his pants. “Plus , its fun seeing you so embarrassed while i dic-“

“OKAY OKAY WE GET IT AHH” [y/n] said as she cut of mikey and looked away in embarrassment..

“Anyways, manjiro babe could you get the bag of pastries in the back while i finish up the cafe?”

“Oh sure!” Mikey said as he went to the back, to find said paste bag

The chimes at the door once again sung indicating another customer as entered.

“Oh sorry! We are closed-“

“Where is he.” The pink haired stated clocking his gun and pointing it at [y/n] .

“what are you talking about??” [y/n] stated as she faced the pink haired man.

“I wont ask again. Where is he.” The male stated again. “Im not afraid of hurting a woman”

Now [y/n] was getting pissed. How dare he come into YOUR cafe and point a gun at YOU??

“Okay now you’re just pissing me off. Who even are you?” [y/n] stated as she reached into her skirt pocket for the gun Mikey gave her in case of an emergency.

“stop being difficult and just tell us where he is woman. “ the other male spoke up not wanting to cause i scene in here.

[y/n] at this point has point her gun at both males visibly angry catching the guys off guard.

“Can you just leave?-“

“[n/n] i got the bag-“ “sanzu? Kakucho? What are you doing here” mikey stated confused then noticing the guns pointed at his dear lover and [n/n]’s gun also pointing at them.

“what the hell are you doing sanzu?” Mikey stated visibly angry at how sanzu was treating his wife.

“Boss! We where looking for you and she wouldn’t tell us where you where-“

“YOURE SANZU?? “ [y/n] spoke up, now realising these where Manjiro’s executives.

“Oh my god! This is so embarrassing… “ [y/n] stated as she covered her face with her hands, still holding the gun.

“Ahh manjrooo… i told you so.. now ive made a fool of myself..” [y/n] said as she crumbled to the floor in embarrassment.

“its okay love. Dont worry” mikey said sweetly to [y/n] “ its about time i told them anyways”

“love???????” Sanzu said confused as to how mikey called another woman love.

“Call the others here.” Mikey ordered as he went to [y/n] side holding in his laugh.

“why where we called here boss” Ran stated confused on to how a normal meeting had ended up with them in a cafe.

“Id like to introduce you to my wife.” Mikey stated as he walked into the room they where in slightly pulling on something.

“manjiro i cant.. “ a small voice said behind mikey.

“ its okay love dont worry “

“WIFE?” The executives shouted confused on how THEIR QUIET BOSS BAGGED A WIFE.

Mikey stepped aside revealing a beautiful timid lady, holding onto mikey like her life depended on it.

silence.

“hi” y/n said trying her hardest to hold contact and not buckle against her knees , y/n had always been a timid and quite girl throughout her life.

When she had met Manjiro she was in a 2 year of middle school , struggling with bullying , her studies and the strictness of her home. Manjiro was her safe haven , she didnt care what he did, as long as he always came home to her .

The executives stayed silent as they watched her shuffle behind Manjiro and tried to hide herself from their strong lingering gazes on her .

“Would you like some tea and taiyaki ? “ she whispered swiftly making her way behind the counter without bothering to listen for their answer.

“Boss.. how long have you had a wife?..” Sanzu stated , first to speak up as the silence had started to take a toll on him.

“9 years.”

“Oh.”

“How long did you know her?”

“Since l was 13.”

“oh”

“Why didnt you tell anyone-“

“We wanted to keep to as quiet as possible , as you never know who could target her. But it was inly a matter of time before you guys find out. Cause i mean, we are expecting. “

“Oh understandable..”

“Wait.”

“Boss, what do you mean expecting “

“We are having a child.”

“oh! “

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

[shmaba]

I’m going to assume that at this point you’ve all seen Critical Role’s new show Candela Obscura and at least skimmed through the Quickstart Guide (you have done all that riiiight??) So I wanted to compile all the things I’ve done that have been shown so far. Its long so read below the line!

I’m going to try to avoid spoilers. So feel free to read without worry. I’m also going to try and avoid breaking any NDA like a good professional. So I will not be doing some deep dive behind the scenes thing. Only visuals that have already been publicly shared are going to be on here

The very first thing I did on this show was the concepts for the main set. Everything is practical. Nothing is green screen or cg or whatever. Some people think it’s just good cg but nope that's all real. You could touch it! (don’t touch it, there are ghosts)

There were multiple iterations on the design, each with their own vibe and statement piece. CR narrowed it down to what you see in the show: a sort of storage hall with an odd clock contraption behind the GM. I think I called this design version the “Abyssal Hall” or something like that (I gave the different versions names to better keep track of which design was being discussed)

The company Flip This Bitch built the physical set. They turned my silly little art into a real thing. So they did all the actual magic of making this set come together in the end! They deserve a lot of the credit for it looking so good in the end.

Also that little piece of art in the bottom left of the preshow is a section from the final concept art of the set.

That contraption behind Matt is based on astrolabes and clocks. This isn’t really meant to be a literal astrolabe or a clock as we would use them in our world. Narratively this isn’t a device that measures either of the things that a traditional astrolabe or clock does. This is a special magickal tool that does a secret third thing.

Also I did concepts for the GM screen. You don't really see it besides in the fancy-shmancy preshow. There were a number of more intricate designs for it but CR went with the simpler option since the only part that would be visible on stream is the top, so that's where I put the most detail.

I should also note that I did not design the logo! It’s pretty prominent on the GM screen but I was supplied an already existing logo for this.

NEXT is the Taliesin enclosure set that you see in the trailer. This is actually meant to be like the lantern room on the top of a lighthouse, minus the big light beacon (You could say Taliesin is the beacon).

Also in the trailer you see a couple brief sketches I did for some world building concepts:

Speaking of sketches there are a number of art pieces of mine in the Quickstart guide

A lot of my art is sketches. They’re all meant to be like notes and drawings from members of Candela as they travel and notate their findings. Most of the notes on these sketches are my actually my notes when I was doing world building concepts, but they replaced my handwriting with a font because my handwriting sucks lmao (also likely for ease of future localization).

Also the cover of the Quickstart guide uses line art of a part of that astrolabe clock set piece. This line art was part of the deliverables that was sent over to Flip This Bitch for construction. They’re just using pieces of those set concepts everywhere!

As you can see I’ve done a lot of art for this project. I was part of this project when it was still early in development. It’s changed quite a bit from where we started. 

I wasn’t the only one that made all this art happen though. Other artists, writers, and designers got to add their own vision to this. It was very much a collaborative effort that took a long time to happen. It’s very exciting to see everyone’s hard work come to fruition and there is a lot more to come!

[mrwinterr]

Fast In My Car

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Summary: Self-driving car sex. That’s it. 

Warnings: Adult themes | 🚫 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🚫 | Smut 18+ (unprotected sex [risky business], vaginal penetration, oral [male receiving], riding, creampie), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 

A/N: I don’t own a car with this feature, so oops on the technicalities. We’re just trying to have fun. Self-driving or not, lol, this is dangerous, but sexy too. Idk if this has been done. It’s just another car sex fic.   

mrwinterr masterlist

When Steve said he had a surprise, you thought it would be something simple like flowers, candy or some cute gift, but what you don’t expect is him with a new car. 

“Check it out!” he exclaims from the curb, a big smile on his face, his arms outstretched wide with the new shiny vehicle glistening in the sunlight behind him. He looked so happy and who wouldn’t be with a new car, right? 

There was nothing wrong with his BMW, so you were a little confused. He had the best car from the lot, courtesy of his parents, and while your own car was still holding its own, you remained steadfast in your refusal to mooch off their wealth, which they’d grown indifferent to. You knew they meant well in their own way. They gave Steve everything he wanted and only the best for him, but you just weren’t cut from the same cloth. 

“Where did you get that?” your first reaction was to question it, although you already had a good feeling from where. 

“At the dealership,” he answered simply. 

“Okay, not what I meant, babe. I mean how and why?” you clarify not one for playing dumb with him at that moment. 

“My parents wanted to surprise us,” he explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to do. 

“There’s nothing wrong with the car you have,” you noted.

“Had,” he corrects you before revealing the fate of his car, “they traded the BMW.” 

“What?” you exclaimed, taken aback. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Come on, it’s just a car. People trade in for new ones all the time.” Everything was just that easy for the Harringtons. “Okay, not everyone...or all the time,” he admits, seeing the unamused look on your face. “I didn’t know you liked the BMW that much.” 

“It’s not that…I don’t know,” you trailed off, trying to not sound sentimental. “We just had a lot of memories with the BMW.” 

Steve’s expression softened as he started reminiscing about the nostalgia tied to his old car. He picked you up for your first date in that car. He drove you to work with that car when yours would inconveniently break down. You both went on several road trips in that car. Among a lot of other things…in that car. 

“Couldn’t they have given us something else? Like…I don’t know, a house in Chicago maybe,” you unrealistically suggest, but wouldn’t completely put it past them. 

“What’s wrong with the house we have right now?” He asks, failing to grasp your point. 

“This is your parents’ house!” You remind him, gesturing toward the big house behind you. 

“They barely live here. It’s practically ours.” Steve reasons. 

“Not the point,” you say, hands on your hips, not amused by that answer either. 

“Whatever. Let’s take this for a spin.”

You sigh and reluctantly make your way to the passenger side, where he held the door open for you. 

~

Steve took the long way to everything during the whole drive and you were getting bored fast. Admittedly, the ride was smooth and the seats were very comfortable. You struggle to keep your eyes open and head up right, trying to not doze off. 

It was such a mundane thing, Steve driving around town with one hand on the wheel while the other on your thigh, sometimes in your hand. You didn’t think much of it at first, but when you start to feel him get a little too handsy, you rouse awake. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Well, you mentioned how we have so much history with the BMW…I was thinking maybe we can make some memories here,” he shrugs casually, continuing to drive through the backroads. 

“I’m not having sex with you in this car just for that reason,” you retort. 

“Why not? It has a self-driving feature,” he counters like that would help his case. 

“That still doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay attention to the road.” 

“How is you giving me road head in the BMW going to be any different in here?” 

“Steve!” You yell appalled by his bluntness on the topic. 

“If anything, it’ll be easier for me to keep the car on the road.” He’s really trying to upsell you on that self-driving feature, “…and the windows are tinted. No one will see us.” He can see the gears in your head turning, contemplating your next move. You just need a little nudge and Steve knows how to push your buttons. 

“You can’t tell me that car sex isn’t hot.” His hand sliding further up your skirt. He can feel the heat radiating from your core through the thin barrier of your underwear, which boosts his confidence in his plan. He has to bite his bottom lip to conceal the smirk. 

There were so many things wrong about this like endangering not only your lives but others, getting caught, and wrecking the car to name a few, but despite that, he’s right; you can’t deny the idea. It was dangerous but also thrilling. 

You huff at his triumph, unbuckle your seatbelt, and turn to face him. Giddy, he pushes his chair back to make room for you, but at enough distance for him to ensure he can still reach the steering wheel should he need to. 

“You’re taking us home right after this,” you demand, watching him nod his head eagerly, then reach to grab him. “Shit, Steve,” you pull your hand back not expecting him to be half hard already. 

“What? You’re the one that put the idea of us fucking in a car in my head. I can’t help but think about it,” he says defensively, trying to shift some of the blame on you. “Plus, your legs look really nice.” 

Shaking your head, you refocus your attention on undressing his lower half. Steve raises his hips as best as he could to help you tug his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring out. 

You wrap your hand around his length, giving it a light squeeze before pumping him in a gradual pace you knew that got him going. You watch his lips part at the sensation you’re conjuring from him, and it only encourages you to continue. Seeing Steve come undone is one of your favorite things. 

Leaning over the console, you get closer, poke your tongue out to swirl it around the head, collecting the small bead of pre-cum pooling from the slit. Your mouth waters at the taste, hungry for more, so you skip the teasing and go right for it. Steve sighs when you take him in your mouth, your lips enclosed around his cock.  

You look up high to the left to see he’s thrown his head back against the headrest, eyes closed, so you pull yourself off him. “Hey! Eyes on the road!” He jolts, your warning ringing through his ears, straightening up a bit and a hand back on the wheel. 

You’re soon bobbing your head up and down his length, a hand assisting in the job before you slowly start taking more of him inch by inch. He bunches up your hair in his hands to get a good view, sneaking a peek while still trying to keep his eyes trained on the road. Feeling the head of cock hitting the back of your throat stirs something animalistic in Steve. You have to keep your hands on his hips to force them down, so he doesn’t lodge himself any deeper than you could handle. 

“Fuck. You’re so good at that.“ His voice drones with the sloppy sounds from working your mouth on his cock. 

You hold him in place for a few seconds until you pull away, in desperate need for air, a mix of fluids running down your chin, but continue fisting his cock, feeling him grow harder.

Satisfied, you carefully maneuver over to him, claiming his lap as your new seat. It’s an awkward angle, but nothing new to you both. You hike your skirt up and push the slit of your underwear to the side. You let out a long moan as you lower yourself down on his thick cock. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you close your eyes to focus on the sensation wracking through your body, doing your best to ignore the sting from being stretched out. 

“Yes,” he lets out as you’re fully seated on his thick cock, allowing him to bask in the warmth of your wet and inviting pussy. “You’re so tight,” he whines, feeling your walls contract around him involuntarily, waiting patiently for you to get used to his girth. 

It’s always a bit of a struggle, but once you get accustomed to him, you pull your face away, brace your palms on his clothed chest and start to bounce on his cock. High enough to keep the tip snuggled inside and low enough to feel his balls press up against the bottom of your ass. He looks down, gawking at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in you. 

“You’re so wet,” he says, licking his lips at the delicious sight. “You like riding my cock don’t you?” He knows you do. Your juices make certain of that when it starts overflowing that it starts to drip down his balls, soaking his seat. 

He’s just eating up the effects that his words have on you, the vulnerable look displayed on your face, so different from the one that was reprimanding him earlier. “Making such a mess,” he chastises, grabbing a hold of your chin forcibly to look at him. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open from the orgasm building up in you. Once he has your attention, his stare is intense as he gravely speaks out, “my dirty girl,” before smashing your lips together, his tongue inviting himself in your mouth seeking your own.  

It’s not enough for Steve to be just content with his cock buried deep inside you, he pulls your top down, your breasts spilling out. “God, I love your tits,” he groans, taking his other hand off the wheel so he could get a good fill of them in his hands. 

Moaning at the sensation when his mouth latches onto them, teasingly nibbling the hardened buds, you get more heated. You start grinding on him, your hips swiveling in circular motions. He loves when you do this because it allows him to feel every part of you, sending him into overdrive. 

“That’s it, grind on that cock, baby,” he mumbles against your chest, his hot breath fanning your skin.

“It’s so good,” you praise his cock. You let out a choked gasp when you ground harder, switching from circular to back and forth motions, “you’re so deep.” Feeling your body shiver, you try to memorize the angle where he’d just probed at, desperately needing him to hit it again. 

Your efforts proving futile, Steve notices your hips losing its rhythm, so he decides to take control. Sneaking his hands around to grope the globes of your ass, he draws you in closer to him, thrusting his cock deep inside to find it for you and judging by the volume of your moans getting louder and louder plus the way your walls contract around his member, he’s found your sweet spot. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes,” your voice wavering. You use the bit of strength remaining in your legs to sit up to focus on him. “Steve, I’m gonna cum,” your warning pushing him to drive it home.  

“Oh, baby,” he coos, bringing a hand up to push away the sweaty hair matted on your face. He loved watching you unravel too. He grips the side of your hips, fingers digging into your skin, not a care given about the marks they’d leave, and starts lifting you up and down his cock. 

“Right there! Fuck, yes. Steve, baby, right there.” 

“Yeah? You got it, baby.” He pistons his hips up into you, loving the way your breasts bounce from his harsh thrusts. “That’s it. Fucking come all over my cock…I’m right behind you, honey.” 

Your thighs clamped around his hips, hands twisting his shirt from the tight grip you held, you let out a silent sob as your orgasm rocks through you. Steve makes good on his word because as your walls start pulsing around his cock, it’s enough to make him come. His arms tightly wrapped around you, keeping you close and rooted down, he stills. Sensitive, you flinch and groan in bliss from feeling, the throb of each spurt of his cum shooting deep inside you.

When you both come down from the high, your body is slumped over him. Steve tilts your head leaning in to kiss you tenderly. He pulls away, a soft smile adorns his perfect face as you gaze lovingly at him. You almost forget that you’re in a moving vehicle until the warning noise breaks your catatonic state. 

“Shit,” he panics, letting go of you, quickly reaching over to align the wheel, almost crushing you in-between. You shoot him a threatening look to which he returns with a sheepish smile. 

“It’s cool! We’re alive aren’t we?” 

Shaking your head, Steve hissed as you carefully removed yourself from him, quickly sliding your panties back in place, not wanting to make a bigger mess than you already have or leave any stains before you climb over back to your seat. 

He pulls his pants back up on his own as you try to fix your appearance, but the post-coital glow doesn’t allow you to. He doesn’t look any more innocent either and he doesn’t care. These memories are yours alone. 

“Can we please go home now?” You ask, buckling up again. 

He looks over watching you draw a small heart on the foggy passenger side window, one of your quirky ways of expressing your love. 

“Yes, honey,” he says with a sweet smile, reaching over to hold your hand, and then taking the shortcut back home. 

A/N: Well that came out of nowhere. I'm a little rusty, but I'm done looking at this. Please give it a like, reblog or reply. I’d love to hear what y’all thought. Thank you for reading!

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I have been openly living as a trans man for some years now. And I'm at a point where it doesn't take up so much mental space anymore.

Don't get me wrong: I certainly do not mean "it doesn't matter anymore" here. I am not a "just call me whatever pronouns, I do not care" person and I don't think I ever will be. Nothing wrong with feeling that way, it's just not how I feel. Being adressed with my name and my pronouns is still important for my mental well-being, and it still triggers feelings of dysphoria when people misgender me.

Even apart from misgendering: My identity is still important, and it always will be! Being trans is not some small thing that loses its importance over time. It's who I am. Being a man - and having grown up in a society that told me I wasn't - influences the way I experience everything in my life (from my self-image to my relationships with others to... well, everything).

What I do mean here is: Before coming out to others, and also before coming out to myself and accepting myself as a man, there were naturally a lot of questions running circles in my brain. Why do I feel so sad when adults tells me I'll grow into a woman? Why does it cause me so much stress when mom tells me to put on a dress? Why does it make me so euphoric to use masculine scents? When I try to picture myself kissing a boy, why do I see two boys? Ah, I just learned trans people exist, why does this fascinate me so much that I can't stop thinking about it? Am I creepy for being so fascinated by them? I'm older now, why is that sad feeling not going away? Why is it only getting worse now that I have "grown into a woman"? Why do I keep getting this horrified feeling that I took a wrong route somewhere and was never meant to arrive at "woman"? Wait... could this mean I am trans? Is it too late to realize I am trans at my age? Can I really be trans when the whole thought of even just considering surgery feels overwhelming and scary? Will I ever be ready to actually come out as trans? I really want to get married some day, could I even find love as a trans person? Can I ever be happy in a relationship if I hide who I am? Can I go on living in the closet? Okay, I am trans and want to come out, is it safe to do that? Will my family still love me? Will I ever be brave enough to come out to people outside of my immediate circle? Will people take me seriously? Will people hate me? Will I regret coming out? What if I fuck up my life?

Well, I came out and the world didn't end. All these questions, I either found answers to them or they just dissolved over time - and that frees up a lot of energy and mental space. The space that was occupied by these questions and concerns is now available to me again.

I do not wonder if I am a man anymore. I just am one. It has become something that is just self-evident to me. It goes without saying - or without conciously spending time thinking about it. Of course I am a man, of course I am Oliver. Who else would I be?

We all have a limited amount of things we can focus on, and many trans people share this experience that over time they do not need to focus so much on it anymnore. But this is not unique to the process of figuring out you are trans - in the sense that a cis gay, bi, ace etc. person could also relate to this, but also in entirely non-lgbt-specific ways. Think about a person prepping for an important exam for example. A lot of their energy and mental space will be tied up in exam related questions... which obviously will not be a permanent state. After the exam, they will naturally no longer by preoccupied by wondering how the exam will go!

I'm telling you all this because one of you asked me if I struggled with coming to terms with being a trans man - and this is my very long way of saying: Yes, I did (and it's pretty normal to do! It's a really big realization about yourself!) but struggling isn't a permanent state.

You'll find answers to some questions, some questions will just fade away. You'll figure things out.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[propertyofyoutube]

So here’s my idea! Sam x Colby x Reader but with temperature play!!

My vision is Sam and Colby both being on the dom side and reader being sub and one of them uses/chooses something really cold like using ice and the other using something hot like wax play candles and they use them at the same time on the reader and its just pure love and smut and filth with maybe a sprinkle of after care?(the reader may go into sub drop???) (Also I kinda imagined her tied up to kinda intensify the sensations but she doesn’t have to be at all!)

Im sorry if this is to specific! I just love your writing and think you would do amazing with this! (Ps if you want not Sam x Colby x Reader requests I have SOOOO many ideas and could send as many as you would like 😂😂)

Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT

Summary: Sam and Colby never competed for your love, never once made you feel like one was better than the other. One day, you decided to tease them, whilst they were both not home on separate outings. After sending them saucy photos, you made it officially a competition.

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom!sam, dom!colby, sub!reader. Temperature play, hot wax, ice cubes, READER GOES INTO SUB!SPACE, squirting, slut, whore, princess, baby, swallowing, oral, rough sex, restraints, vibrator, overwhelming multiple orgasms. PURE FILTH! Aftercare.

Not edited. Requests open!

Authors note: I hope you like this! I will be doing a part 2 to this request, where reader goes into sub!drop and uses her safe word. I didn’t want to go too hard/negative for the first story in this book… follow to keep up!

Tumblr:propertyofyoutube

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

You sighed as you tossed over in your bed. As you picked up your phone it was only 2:30pm. “Ugh!” You groaned as you tossed once more. 4 more hours until Colby was due home and god knows how long until Sam. It was Saturday, which meant business meetings, personal meetings and so much more. But for you, a Saturday was a day off. You hated Saturdays… but you loved Saturday nights. That moment, Sam and Colby returned home, having missed you as always, and making up for the lost time in every sensual way possible.

As you thought about what you had coming later on, your thighs pressed tightly together, thinking about the basement. Damn, to YouTube their basement was the react channel set, but on the other side of that camera was a sex dungeon. Imagine Christian Grey’s red room times one hundred.

Before you met Sam and Colby, you were what most people say “vanilla”. You hadn’t had many sexual partners who explored all areas in the world of intimacy and pleasure. Once you and the boys became an agreed throuple, Colby wasted no time to introduce you to all new levels of passion. And once Sam got a taste, he couldn’t resist seeing you, obeying their demands, on your knees ready for whatever they wish. You could almost feel their hands tracing your curves, your toes curling as they brought you closer to each and every orgasm.

Suddenly your eyes snapped open, bringing you back to reality. “Fuck.” You breathed out as you felt your body desperate for them, for whatever they had in store for you. Your phone suddenly dinged as you looked down at the text message that flashed on your screen in the group chat named, ‘Our girl’.

Colbs🖤: hey baby, how’s your day going?

You began typing out instantly: it’s okay, I just can’t wait for you to-… Your frown quickly turned to a mischievous smirk as you had a bright idea. You held tightly on the back button as the message quickly disappeared. You jumped out of bed running to your dresser. As you pulled on the top drawer, your eyes fell wide as the range of the hottest lingerie sets. You fumbled through the sets and one pieces until landing on the brand new, laced corset top and matching panties. “Bingo.” You said as you chuckled to yourself. You quickly changed into the beautiful set and you couldn’t lie, you looked fucking hot. You bit your lip as you replied,

You: how long will you both be?

Colby’s typing bubble made your stomach flip in excitement. This was a risky move you were about to pull, this was punishment material. But you couldn’t wait to crumble at their touch.

Colbs🖤: I’m not sure baby… why what’s wrong? Is everything okay?

You smirked, trying to think of the best way to get them home. You walk over to your full length mirror, lowering down onto your knees. You begin to type,

You: I’m just trying my best to resist going down to the basement…

You bit your lip in anticipation as you awaited his reply, or Sam’s. It was less than a minute before Colby’s message appeared.

Colbs🖤: fuck… someone’s horny😂

You chuckled as you read his text, but before you could start type out another message came through.

Sammy❤️: wait, what’s happening?

You giggled as you definitely had both of their attention.

Sammy❤️: don’t you dare go to that basement without us, y/n.

You bit your lip, it was working, and only after one message. You sat back as Colby continued, you admired the way Sam and Colby never fought over you, for love, for sex, for anything.

Colbs🖤: agreed. Don’t y/n, or there will be consequences when we get home.

You rolled your eyes, truly not giving a fuck how badly they gave it to you. You quickly positioned yourself in the mirror as you snapped a photo. You attached the saucy picture of you in your sexy set.

You: either one, or both of you, get home now or I’ll sort myself out…😏

You waited in anticipation as both of their typing bubbles popped up. The messages instantly came through within seconds of each other.

Sammy❤️: y/n what are you doing… I’m in a meeting with the merch team.

Colbs🖤: fuck, you take that off right now. I’m in line to get some lunch.

You giggle to yourself, as you removed the corset, placing your arm across your breasts, taking another photo.

You: okay baby, it’s off😉 fine if you’d rather eat that lunch. Stay there.

You teased knowing Colby hated when you tried to boss him around. As you began typing a reply to Sam, you knew exactly what would get them both.

You: please Sammy, please come home. I need you to feel for yourself, just how soaked I am… 🥺

You waited, as Colby’s bubbles popped up first.

Colbs🖤: I know what you’re trying to do y/n…😒

Sammy❤️: baby… I wish I could, but I don’t think I can get out of this one. Believe me, I want to… so badly😢

You sighed loudly, you had to go further. They needed more convincing.

You: I usually wait for you both, everyday… but if one of you doesn’t get home in the next 20 minutes, I’ll quick frankly make myself cum

You quickly ran to the basement, your need for them intensifying every second. Before they could reply you took a photo of the large 4 poster bed, covered in satin sheets.

You: first one home gets to do whatever the fuck they want to me 😏

A couple of minutes passed and you knew that they were probably on the phone discussing the situation. They never competed.

Colbs🖤: fuck Sam, she’s done it now… you’ve been very bad y/n. You better have yourself on your knees, waiting for us.

Sammy❤️: we’re on our way. First one home gets to show you just how bad you’ve been…

Your eyes lit up in excitement.

You: yes sir.

You quickly headed back up the stairs to grab a lighter for the candles and an ice bucket, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and 3 glasses.

You had heard the front door open as you kneeled in front of the bed, facing your back to the door. Your long hair covering your bare back as you left yourself in just the lace panties. Your body tingled with excitement as you anxiously waited for who ever was about to walk through that door. Sam always went a little bit easier on you. You had them both wrapped around your finger, but you definitely knew Sam’s weak spots. He was easier to break than Colby. You knew you’d pushed them to their patient limits today and lowkey hoped Sam came first for the punishment.

“You’ve been very naughty, y/n.” Colby’s voice echoed through your ears as a smirk spread across your face.

“I would say I’m sorry… but I’m not.” You said cheekily.

“And now she’s back talking?” Sam said with a scoff of disbelief. Your eyes fell wide as you hadn’t heard the both of them arriving.

Colby smirked at Sam before slowly walking around to stand in front of you. Your eyes still facing forward, not looking up at him. Colby slowly placed his fingers below your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “You tried to make us compete for you, y/n… and that is our number one rule…” Colby said his voice low.

You tried so hard to fight back a smile, “I’m sorry…” you said softly.

Sam sighed from behind you, as you began to walk around to join Colby, “you can apologise by being a good girl for us… now get onto the bed and keep that pretty little mouth shut.” Sam said, his voice demanding and dominant, taking you by surprise. Damn, you really had pushed all their buttons. ‘Oh shit.’ You thought to yourself. You nodded before stand up and climbing onto the bed, sitting in the centre facing the boys who were now stripping down to their underwear.

“Lie down.” Colby demanded as you instantly laid your head back. Your heart beating a million miles per minute as you stared up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, both Sam and Colby appeared either side of you. Restraints in hand. “We had no control today…” Colby said with a slightly annoyed tone.

“I thinks it’s time we reimplemented who is in control here.” Sam continued as your body squirmed at their touch. You nodded slowly as they took one arm, and one leg each wrapping your wrists and ankles in the leather, strapping each of your limbs to a corner of the bed. You tried to close your legs, your thighs desperate to squeeze together as your panties grew even wetter, but it was no use.

Colby stood tall as he walked back up to your head, a red satin blindfold in hand, “you treat us differently.” He said softly as he placed the blindfold over your eyes. “Like we’re polar opposites.”

You swallowed hard full of a mixture of excitement and nerves.

“So I think we should show you, the effect polar opposites can have on you.” Sam said with a smirk.

Sam and Colby looked at each other before nodding with smiles. “What’s your safe word?” Colby asked as your breath shook.

“Red.” You whispered.

“Louder.” Sam said firmly sending shivers down your entire body.

You obeyed instantly, “red.” You spoke clearly.

“Good girl.” Sam said softly.

Colby picked up a candle from the dresser that you had lit. He walked over to the bed as Sam bit his lip, ready to watch the pleasure radiate through your body. “Sam… I think our little slut here needs her pussy eaten.” Colby said as Sam licked his lips. “She’s so desperate, look at her.” Sam couldn’t help but smile at your squirming body, stretched out across the bed as your knees tried their hardest to close.

“Always so desperate.” Sam said as he moved to the bottom of the bed, between your restrained legs. Sam looked up at your panties, he could see just how wet you were through the Lacey material. “Such a slut, you’ll do anything for us to fuck you senseless.” Sam smirked as he spoke watching how his words made your clit ache even more.

Colby leaned down by your head as he spoke softly, “do you want Sam to taste you, baby?” He asked. You nodded your head as Colby shook his, “words baby. Tell Sam exactly what you want.”

Sam’s hands suddenly touched your legs, as he slowly dragged them higher and higher, across your thigh towards your pelvis. “P- please Sammy. Please taste me.” You begged. You could feel your core pulsating at the thought of it.

Sam looked up at Colby from between your thighs as Colby nodded. Sam wasted no time, moving your panties to the side and connected his lips with your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue instantly.

Your back arched off the bed in pleasure, the feeling of Sam’s mouth working away on your core was like a dream.

“Fuck baby, you are soaked…” Sam groaned against your core as Colby licked his lips at how your body moved.

“You know those photos got me all hot baby…” Colby said looking at the candle in his hand. “And you’re going to get just as hot and bothered as I was…” Colby bit his lip as Sam’s eyes looked up at him, his mouth still devouring you. “Remember to use your safe word if you need to.” Colby reminded us as suddenly he tilted the candle over your torso. The hot wax hitting your skin as you moaned louder, a string of curse words leaving your mouth. You felt a knot in your stomach as the hot wax trailed down your body and Sam’s tongue entered your core.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Colby looked down on you and Sam gripped your hips, holding you in place.

“You thought you were so smart to tease us…” Colby grunted as he continued to pour once again, “using your body like a little whore.” His voice sent you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you full speed as you suddenly covered Sam’s face in your juices.

“Fuck baby…” Sam gasped as he sucked you up, “little warning next time?”

You breathed heavily as your heart beat strong and your body shook uncontrollably, “I’m-I’m so sorry.” You moaned out.

“You will be…” Colby grunted as Sam stood up from between your legs. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Colby said, his voice even lower as his hard cock was finally freed from his boxers.

Colby didn’t give you a chance to recover, he wanted to take out his frustrations in the best way he knew how to, making you cum, again… and again… and again. Colby lined himself up, hovering above you. He suddenly pushed himself deep inside of you as you cried out. “Fuck Colby!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head beneath the blindfold as your stomach was in knots once again.

Sam walked over to the ice bucket with the champagne, taking out 2 ice cubes. “After all that wax, you must be a little hot there baby…” Sam said with a smirk. Colby groaned loudly as he fucked you. You could hardly take in what Sam was saying as Colby hit your g-spot with his dick every time he pushed deep inside of you.

Sam climbed up onto the bed after removing his boxers, positioning himself up near your head. As Colby pounded into you, Sam took the two ice cubes as your body froze as the two ice cubes were placed on your nipples. “Oh shit!” You cried out, your back arching once again. Sam began to move around your chest, the ice leaving freezing cold trails of water.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Colby groaned as his face scrunched from the pleasure of your walls wrapped around him. He suddenly sat up slightly, positioning himself so he could continue to fuck you whilst grabbing the candle.

“If you’re going to treat us like opposites, then we’re going to treat you with opposites.” Sam breathed heavily as Colby bit his lip starting to pour some of the hot wax once again. The feeling of both the hot and cold touching your body was sending your senses into overdrive, your head becoming lightheaded with pleasure as you moaned louder.

Suddenly you felt that knot about to explode, “fuck… I’m gonna cum!” You cried out, trying to give them warning this time.

Sam suddenly leaned down, the ice pressed back onto your nipples as the hot wax trickled down your stomach, “cum baby. That’s our good girl.”

“Fuckkkk.” You groaned as you came once again, your body exploding into a whole new world of ecstasy.

“That’s it baby.” Colby groaned louder, but he didn’t stop, he continued to pound into you at a strong pace, not allowing you a second to cool down. “Now be a good girl and open up for Sam.” Colby demanded as you parted your lips. You could cry from the feeling they were giving you, the pleasure, the passion, the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Sam positioned his cock against your lips, “wider.” He said his voice horse. You quickly dropped your jaw as Sam pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, “fuck, princess.” He moaned.

Colby watched as Sam began to fuck your mouth as you continued to get thrusted into by him. “God she’s such a slut for us Sam” Colby said between moans.

“She’s our slut… our girl.” Sam moaned as he pushed his cock further into your mouth hitting the back of your throat.

Colby threw the candle aside as he picked up a vibrator that rested on the edge of the bed. He turned it on full whack immediately as he quickly put it against your throbbing clit. You moaned louder against Sam’s cock as he threw his head back from the feeling. Out of nowhere a surprise orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks as you squirted all over Colby's cock. He pulled out for a moment as you sprayed him and covered the sheets, leaving a puddle.

“Fuck baby girl.” Colby said as he breathed heavily, his eyes wide at the sight. He suddenly re-entered you as he began thrusting harder and faster than ever, the vibrator instantly back in place. Your body was exhausted, you were afraid of how much more it could take.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum… and you’re going to swallow every bit.” Sam said as he ran his fingers into your hair. You nodded slowly, hardly able to move from the lack of control on your body.

“Me too.” Colby grunted louder as he pounded fast. “One more time baby, you can do it.” He said as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit. You felt as you walls clenched around Colby once again, your back arching off the bed as Sam leaned across and grabbed a handful of ice cubes, dropping them all onto your body as you cried out louder.

Sam twitched in your mouth, “fuck…” he ground as he suddenly came filling up your through with his hot cum. He pulled out slowly as you lifted your head slightly to swallow. “That’s a good girl.” Suddenly your body was once again filled with pleasure from head to toe, your entrance begging for some relief, for a break as you came once again.

“Fuck Colby! Cum… please cum!” You cried out. As Colby looked up at your scrunched up face.

“You got it princess.” He grunted as he pounded deeper into you one last time fucking you harder than ever, he was right, there was no way you were going to be able to walk. “Fuck y/n.” He shouted as he pulled out spilling his cum all over your lower stomach.

Everything went silent. Apart from the sounds of you all panting. Sam instantly jumped off the bed, grabbing a towel to clean you off. You couldn’t help it, you completely disappeared, reverting into sub space. Your mind escaping to a place of quiet, happiness and calm. Your body lay still, your heart pounding. “Are you okay baby?” Sam said but you didn’t respond. He looked at Colby, they both knew exactly what was happening before they both jumped into action unbuckling the restraints and your body was completely limp.

Colby kneeled next to you on the bed, taking the blindfold off slowly, “baby?” He said softly, but your eyes looked as though you were no longer there. He looked up at Sam, this has happened before but it never worries them any less.

Sam crouched the other side as he took your hand, “y/n… y/n can you hear me? Tap once for no, twice for yes.” He said concerned.

Suddenly he felt two small taps on his hand from your index finger. They both sighed in relief. Colby reached up to stroke your hair as he used his other hand to take yours. “Do you want us to take you upstairs, princess?” He smiled as he felt two small taps on his hand.

Sam jumped up, grabbing a blanket as he wrapped it around you, your whole body no longer in action. Inside your mind, you knew what was happening but it was as though you completely disconnected from your body. Colby picked up, bridal style, the blanket wrapped rightly around you. He walked you up to your bedroom, he slowly lowered you to the bed, beneath the covers. “Do you want us to leave you baby?” He asked reluctantly as he knew sometimes you preferred to be alone when you went into subspace. Suddenly he felt a small tap on his hand. No, thank god. Colby climbed into bed with you, as Sam entered the room, water and food in hand ready for when you came back to them. Colby place you on his chest as Sam climbed in the bed on the other side of you. He leaned down kissing your cheek.

“Do you still love us, baby?” He said with a smirk as he always did when this happened, he chuckled as he felt two taps. “Good.” He kissed you once more before sitting against the headboard as Colby did, your hand held tightly in his.

“Take your time baby…” Colby whispered, “we’ll be here when you’re ready.” He kissed the top of your head as you tapped the both of them twice. Sam and Colby looked at each other with a sigh, as even though you loved the sex you all had, they always felt guilty when this happened. No matter how many times you tell them it’s not their fault.

Sam picked up the remote control as he headed onto Netflix and began to play your comfort movie. Both of them holding tightly onto your hands as your head lay comfortably on Colby’s chest. “We love you.” Colby said, honestly.

“So much.” Sam added as you tapped them both twice. You laid there, allowing your body to relax ready for you to come back to reality.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

[etherealising]

chapter six | didn’t i do it for you?

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | platonic!natalie berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!neil fak x fem!reader

summary: carmy knows exactly what he wants regarding you, but past mistakes always come to rear their ugly heads

warning(s): angst | hurt slight comfort | slight fluff | semi-jealous carmy | mentions of substance abuse | mentions of overdose | mikey | mentions of suicide | implied miscarriage | language | self-destructive behavior | arguments | forced love confessions | carmy’s sad boi hours | actions having consequences | more barby lore | children | no use of y/n | afab reader |

wc: 10.9k

a/n: hi lovies, this chapter may be a bit heavier than previous ones so please take the warnings extra seriously. if you are triggered by any warning please do not read this chapter i’ll literally message you a summary of the chapter if you need it. i may have missed some warnings so if that’s the case i do apologize it was not intentional. lastly please remember YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA COSUMPTION….enjoy 🩵

“You know, I-I don’t think my family meant to ruin it or anything like that, you know.”

Carmy was trying to be better, to be more open. And it was easiest at these Al-Anon meetings, no one knew him, and no one had any expectations of him.

“I-I don’t think they did it on purpose,” his hand subconsciously raised to the chain securely tucked under his crew neck, rubbing the metal through the fabric.

“I don-it’s not fair to blame them for everything,” a sardonic huff of laughter escaped Carmy as he thought of the words he was going to say. “I uh…I had a friend once…a best friend.”

“She was the first thing in life that I felt belonged to me,” Carmy frowned, having trouble articulating what he wanted to say. “And not li- I didn’t own her or anything, but she was my friend because she chose to be, not because she knew me through Mikey.”

“And then I…I fucked that relationship up myself…uhh and as I sat there trying to think of what provided amusement or joy in my life…I just thought of my childhood spent with her…by my side.” He cleared his throat forcing himself to remember that he would probably never interact with any of these people outside of these meetings.

Carmy’s hand dropped from its place where his covered chain sat, now gripping the armchair. “She’s uh she’s back in my life now and I…I want those things with her again I…I want to fix things with her, be the person she believes I am.”

Sydney’s curiosity the other day gave Carmy a lot to think about. He was so accustomed to looking at the picture above his stove daily, that he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he invited Sydney over. Her curiosity was understandable, the interactions you and Carmy shared hadn’t been the warmest but that Polaroid would suggest otherwise.

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to be here.” Carmy sat straighter in his chair, if he could admit his wants albeit vaguely to a room of strangers, he could admit his feelings to you. “Thank you, guys. Thanks for letting me share.”

Then he saw you at the grocery store, comfortable in someone else’s arms. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he didn’t think he was. But reality slapped him in the face, so sure of himself that the two of you could pick up where you left off he didn’t stop to think that maybe you didn’t want that anymore.

And then like the idiot he was, he gave Claire your number. He wanted to believe it wasn’t on purpose, that he had memorized your number so well it was the first he thought of when asked.

Carmy left the meeting hoping Claire didn’t call the number he gave her, hoping that you would be open to rekindling whatever relationship was left between you two.

Your morning was off to a great start. Hayden surprised you with breakfast at the office and signed off on your article for The Bear as long as it didn’t get in the way of your work at The Tribune. The two of you even brainstormed the best way to go about telling the story.

Since your late-night grocery run with Hayden, the two of you had fallen back into the friendship you developed all those years ago. It felt good to be reconnected with him, and thankfully things weren’t awkward considering your past sexual history.

Neither of you admitted to it, but you both knew the opportunity to fall back into your old ways would soon present itself, you weren’t sure if it was an option you would take advantage of though. The two of you weren’t in college anymore and as pathetic as it sounded since your vulnerable conversation with Carmy the other day, your heart still held out hope that the two of you could build up the foundation for a romantic relationship.

Rounding the corner of Orleans Street you finally made it to your destination, happy to have taken in the fresh air mid-morning had to offer. You approached the door to the restaurant hoping someone would hear your knock and let you in.

You smiled as Sydney opened the door moving back to allow you in, you reached up to slide your headphones off as you greeted both her and Carmy.

“Good morning, is Nat in?” The text you received on the train ride over from the oldest Berzatto was pushed to the back of your mind until now.

The urgent ‘we need to talk,’ text had worried you at first, but you had rationalized that Nat could’ve been referring to anything.

“Uh yeah, she’s in the office.” You nodded at Syd giving her a small smile in thanks before turning to make your way to the back.

“Oh hey, do you like have a second or…” You stopped in your tracks turning back to face the two chefs looking between them curiously before nodding once more.

You smiled waiting for one of them to speak, “Uh yeah can we make this quick though I need to speak with Nat.” You did your best to sound nonchalant, the longer you stood out here the more your anxiety began to rise, mind racing with what Nat needed to speak with you about.

“Yeah yeah of course,” Sydney stepped away from the door moving near Carmy who had remained silent since your entrance. “We were thinking of sending Marcus to Copenhagen and I know you stayed there, not like in a weird way but because I read your articles you know.”

You nodded your head eyebrows raised as a signal for Sydney to continue. You did your best to ignore Carmy’s stare while Syd rambled on about their idea and how the trip would help to inspire Marcus.

“…So we were wondering if you had any suggestions?” Her raised eyebrows stared back at you.

“Sorry suggestions for what?” The confusion was easily readable on your face, Syd’s excitement at the prospect overwhelmed you.

You watched as the two chefs stared at you, Carmy’s signature blank stare and Syd’s slightly hurt reaction that you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh uh for accommodations…in Copenhagen.”

The question surprised you, eyes darting to Carmy before focusing back on Sydney. You knew Carmen spent time in Copenhagen, so the fact that they were asking you for suggestions seemed a bit redundant.

Albeit stunned by the questions you smiled moving towards where the two of them were sitting, memories of your month spent in Copenhagen playing in your mind like a movie. The trip was months before Mikey’s passing and now as you think about it, it felt like that was the last time you had fun, and lived life without the worry that so often filled you now.

A chuckle left your lips as you leaned against the counter looking from Syd to Carmy, “I uh I stayed with the chef I was profiling.” You bit your lip trying to contain the grin threatening to split your lips, “I still have his number I could call him if you want. He kind of owes me a favor anyway.”

Carmy’s arms fashioned themselves across his chest, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. There was so much he didn’t know about you including the fact that you had spent time in Europe with some mystery chef.

“Oh yeah? What uh-who was the chef you wrote about? Maybe I know him.” Carmy’s words surprised you, the look you exchanged with Sydney proved that he didn't come across as casual as he was trying to.

You raised from your position against the counter, “Chef Luca?” Your voice trailed off a bit before the smile you were trying to contain finally made its appearance, “He’s this amazing pastry chef, who’s so passionate about his craft it was like watching a master at work!”

Carmy watched as you gushed about his former colleague, annoyance clawing at his throat as he took notice of just how happy the memories made you.

“Luca even taught me how to make this crazy dessert he was still perfecting, I mean mine was nothing compared to his but it was honestly the most fun I’d had in so long.” You reminisced about your time spent with Luca, “Oh, and my peach cobbler? Yeah, he taught me the simple syr-.”

“No yeah, I’m familiar with him.” Both you and Sydney were pulled from your animated conversation; the tight smile on Carmy’s face alerted you of his irritation.

You nodded, feeling a little bad at your rambling, “Okay well I’ll just go see Nat now, let me know if you need me to make that call.” You drummed your hands against the counter before turning around to take your leave.

“Hey uh, Baby?” You turned your head before disappearing around the corner eyebrows raised as you looked at Carmy. “Do you think we could maybe talk later?” You watched as his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck.

Sydney watched the interaction play out between the two of you, a small smirk lining her lips as she watched how flustered Carmy got just by asking you a simple question.

Your lips tugged up into a small smile, “Sure thing Carm, I’ll come back when I’m done with Nat.”

Carmy was sure his heart was beating so loud Sydney could hear it, the nickname something he hadn’t heard spilled from your lips in so long. The small smile he briefly caught did wonders for his already lacking confidence, he was now sure more than ever that there was a chance to fix things with you.

You entered the office to see Natalie pouring over documents presumably to do with permits and money in regards to the restaurant. You took a step forward momentarily stopping at Nat’s voice.

“Close and lock the door behind you please,” The lack of eye contact was grating on your nerves, either Natalie was completely stressed about her role as project manager or you had yet again colossally fucked up.

You did as told not wanting to further irritate your very pregnant friend. The office was silent neither of you spoke up as Natalie finished looking over the latest paper she had picked up.

She looked exhausted and you felt horrible knowing you had potentially added more stress onto her already-loaded plate. Nat gave you a small smile though her eyes looked anything but happy.

“Cortez called me this morning,” Nat’s eyebrows raised as she pointedly stared at you. Your head fell back against the door a quiet ‘fuck’ mumbled into the air. “Said this was the third meeting you missed.”

Nat waited for you to return your attention to her, “I’m only going to ask you this once Baby, and I really need you to be honest with me.” Nat leaned forward in the chair, closing a bit of the space between you so you would hear her quiet voice, “Are you using again?”

You sighed leave it to Cortez to fucking snitch you out, you didn’t realize that being a snitch was a requirement if you were someone’s sponsor.

“Baby?” Your eyes connected with Nat’s the softness of her voice and the watery appearance in her eyes told you just how worried she was.

Your head shook back and forth rapidly as you raised your hand to massage your temples, “I’m not using Nat I promise. And I know that means jack shit coming from an addict but I promise I’m doing good.” You took a deep breath calming your budding agitation, you knew Nat was worried and it wasn’t her that you were annoyed at but yourself.

“I uh…I’ve been stuck on step eight since I joined this whole rebranding project, and I…I knew that Cortez would be persistent in me getting it done.” You grimaced at the fact that you had already missed three meetings, you hadn’t realized how far things had gotten, “It’s just things felt normal again and I guess I thought I could just pretend like everything was okay.”

Natalie nodded as she listened to your explanation, she hated it but there was always a part of her that would be apprehensive. She had seen the manipulation substance abuse breeds firsthand when she stayed with you in the hospital after your overdose, it hurt her to see you hurting. To sit back and watch as the withdrawal symptoms ate away at you as you would fiend for a fix that you took your pain out on her and Pete.

Nat quickly turned to where her purse was sitting pulling out a box the two of you were all too familiar with.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Your face scrunched up in anger, the emotion slowly residing as you watched Nat close her eyes and take a deep breath in. You felt like a complete asshole you knew Nat wasn’t doing this of her own volition and you had no one to blame but yourself for the predicament you were now in.

“Nat shit, I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that. But you really can’t expect me to take that here.” Your hand thrust out to the box that seemed to be taunting you.

“Baby you know the rules. I don’t like this as much anymore than you but when you just decide you don’t need to meet with your sponsor anymore, these are the measures we have to resort to.”

“Lead the way, Mom.” Natalie let out a small chuckle at your antics, thankful that you were being somewhat logical, “Wait is there a bag we can throw this away in, we can’t just leave the evidence in the bathroom.” The two of you turned to search through the office sure you would find a stray plastic bag lying somewhere.

You popped up, a plastic baggie securely in your grasp, “Does the toilet even work?” Nat shrugged, walking past you and making her way to the bathroom leaving you to follow behind.

“Aww yeah, party in the bathroom! Am I invited?” Nat stopped as Fak stood in front of the two of you hastily moving the bag behind her back doing her best to be inconspicuous.

“Sorry my love girls only, maybe next time,” Nat gave Fak a pat on the shoulder and her signature smile before maneuvering the two of you around him.

“Wait, is it that time of the month for us? Cause I think our cycles might be synced, I’ve been having the most insane cramps lately.” The words that left Fak’s mouth would never cease to surprise you.

“You know, I think you might be right Fak, my lower back has been killing me.” You indulged in Fak’s shenanigans, the man falling in line to walk with you as the two of you followed Natalie to the front.

Fak nodded along with you “No I’m like feeling it, should I invest in a heating pad?”

You snickered at Fak, “I usually just fill up a sock with rice and throw it in the microwave.” You shrugged like the conversation was a completely normal occurrence. “The first day is always the worst for me, my breasts get so tender.”

Fak raised his own hands to his chest cupping his pecs “Baby tell me about it, it’s just like one touch and I’m crying.” You could see Carmy’s confused look from your peripheral as your group finally made it to the bathroom.

“I could totally massage your breast Fak, but you would have to return the favor. It's only fair if you’re a part of the sisterhood.” You watched as Fak nodded his head rapidly, hands raising in the air and hovering in front of your breast.

“Wait, is this an actual thing?”

“Oh yeah me and Nat do it all the time, that’s actually why we’re going to the bathroom now.” Fak’s eyes darted to Nat before looking back at his hands inching closer to your breast.

“Wait no, I don’t want Carmy to be mad at me.” The two of you looked in Carmy’s direction, the man still watching just as confused as earlier.

You shrugged before turning back to Fak, “I can assure you Carmy would not give a single fuck if you touched my breast, Neil.”

The aforementioned man took in a gasp of breath before clearing his throat and slowly moving down the counter to get a better listen at what the hell the two of you were doing.

You, Nat, and Carmy waited to see what Fak’s next move would be, the smile raising to your face hard to keep under wraps, Fak was adorably easy to mess with.

Fak’s hands began to inch forward concentration clear as day on his face before a small shriek left his lips, “Baby I’m sorry, Carmy’s my best friend, I don’t think I can do this for you.”

You laughed at the disappointment in Fak’s voice, “Your loss babes, I know 16-year-old Fak would’ve killed for this moment.” Your hand raised to pat his cheek before you finally left his side and entered the bathroom as Nat held the door open for you.

“She was lying to you my love, we don’t massage each other's breasts.” With those last words, Nat shut the door on a disappointed Fak and a mildly annoyed Carmy.

Fak turned back to look at Carmy with an apology in his eyes, “I’m so sorry Carmy, teenage Fak was really fighting to come out right now but I know Baby’s your girl.”

Carmy frowned at Fak’s words, the irritation running through him at yours and Fak’s stupid antics. “She’s uh…she’s not my girl. Baby and I are just friends.”

Fak smiled widely in Carmy’s direction, “That’s great, you really should think about getting a girlfriend then, I just want you to be happy Carmy.” Fak began walking to the back to help move the appliances. Carmy let out a chuckle as he heard Fak mumble about missing his once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Carmy shook his head back and forth, having you back really was just like old times. He wouldn’t ever say anything out loud but Carmy was actually really glad he didn’t have to stand there and watch Fak fondle you.

“Pete said the two of you have a lunch date planned.” Your head shot up to Nat, the air had been a little stilted between the two of you since she had brandished the drug test.

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Doesn’t seem like the proper environment for a casual chat Nat.” You gestured to the dinghy bathroom you were in, emphasizing the urine sample sitting on the sink while the two of you awaited the results.

You watched the smile rise to Natalie’s lips, a somber look overcast on her face, “I’m not doing this because I want to Baby.” Nat’s voice took on a gravelly tone.

Natalie didn’t deserve this, she had already basically nursed you back to health once. And now here she and Pete were about to bring a life into this world, and here you were a grown adult still expecting everyone else to fix your problems. You knew Natalie didn’t need the stress and worry your life choices brought forth and if your overdose wasn’t a wake-up call enough, then Nat’s haggard appearance as you two stood in the bathroom sure was.

“I know and I apologize Nat. Really livin' up to my nickname aren’t I?” Nat chuckled listening to your apology. “There’s no excuse for my behavior. I know what’s expected of me I-”

Your words were cut off by the shrill ringing of your phone. The noise caused the two of you to jolt in the small bathroom. You quickly removed the device from your back pocket, it was a Chicago area code, but you already had everyone you knew here saved in your contacts.

“You gonna answer that?” Your eyes flashed to Nat, her eyebrows raised in question.

You took one last glance at the number trying to place it before clicking the power button and slipping it back into your pocket, “If it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail.”

“Anyway, I shouldn’t constantly depend on you to clean up my messes Nat, I don’t think I’ve been the best friend recently. And it should be you depending on me considering,” you waved your hand over her figure scared that if you spoke the word someone might hear. “I promise to do better Nat, I want to be around to help with the little gremlin.”

Nat raised her hand to wipe the few tears that were falling, making her way over to pull you into an embrace, “These damn hormones make me so emotional.”

You chuckled rubbing up and down Natalie’s back, “You’d be crying even if you weren’t compromised.”

The hug lasted up until the timer on Nat’s phone sounded, signaling the results were ready. The two of you pulled apart, with Nat sending you a reassuring smile.

It didn’t matter if you knew you hadn’t touched any substances since your hospitalization, you would always be nervous when it was time to read off the results. You waited with bated breath as Nat read over the testing stick, you would set up a meeting with Cortez as soon as you got the chance.

The sigh of relief Natalie let out stung you a bit, but you could understand her apprehension it wasn’t easy trusting a recovering addict.

“It’s negative Babes.” A sigh of relief left you.

A wide grin raising to your lips, “I told you so.” Nat rolled her eyes at the sing-song sound of your voice.

The two of you made quick work of cleaning up the bathroom, small talk about your future lunch with Pete floating around as you made sure all evidence was disposed of in the plastic bag.

Carmy watched as Sugar exited the bathroom the same drugstore bag from earlier in her hand. He sent a nod in her direction as she smiled at him before making her leave. Carmy was set to meet up with Syd in 30 minutes but he was hoping to speak with you before he took his leave, unsure if you would still be here later.

He returned his attention to the calendars with the timeline to open, checking off things that had already been taken care of and adding anything he wanted to double-check.

“You free to talk now, Carm?” He turned at the sound of your voice, a shy smile lining his cheeks as he took in the smile on your lips.

“Uh yeah, yeah if you’re free,” You nodded, coming to stand across from Carmy the old counter directly between you two.

Carmy’s eyes took in the sweater you were wearing, similar to the style in his but while his was a nice grey color, yours was a deep green. The familiarity of the crew neck finally dawned on him as he realized it was his crew neck you were wearing, the last time he saw it was the night he left you in his apartment all those months ago expecting to still see you there when he returned home.

It was silent as the two of you stared at each other, a giggle escaped your lips at the lost look on Carmy’s face. “What’d you wanna talk about Carmy?”

Carmy nodded trying to remove the memories from his mind, “I uh…I know I ruined our friendship and…and whatever was left of it.” He paused, eyes falling to the crew neck carefully wrapped around you, the memory of watching you get dressed after the shower you shared swimming around in his head, the extra pictures of the two of you tucked safely into his bedside drawer.

“Carm hey,” he watched as your knuckles knocked against the counter to bring him back to the present time.

“Yeah, I uh I just have a lot I think we should talk about Baby, and maybe the restaurant wasn’t the best place for it.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, nerves running haywire.

You nodded a serious look painted on your face, you were sure you knew what Carmen wanted to speak about but you also had secrets of your own you wanted to share with him.

“I…I want us to try and be friends again or at least be cordial with each other…if that’s not too much to ask.” Carmy huffs out a breath of laughter, eyes latching onto your figure in front of him.

He watches as you appear to be thinking, most likely retracing the path of your relationship through the years memories running through your head that he has absolutely no idea exists.

“Carmy, you’ve never not been my friend but a lot of your choices hurt m-.” Your phone rang again echoing off the walls in the front of the restaurant.

You gave Carmy a small smile before removing your phone, the number that’s calling you is the same one that called while you were in the bathroom with Nat earlier. You raise your finger to Carmy, gesturing that you need to take the call.

“Hello.” You wait as the other line stays quiet.

“Baby?”

You frown looking up at Carmy as he watches you hoping your call ends soon, “Uh I’m sorry who is this?”

“Oh, it’s me, uh…Claire. We lived down the street from each other as kids?” A gasp escaped your lips, surprised that she was calling you.

You move the phone from your mouth. Hand moving up to cover it as your eyes find Carmy’s “It’s Claire.” Your whisper takes a moment to register in his ears, too caught up in the bright smile on your face.

“Wow, it's so good to hear from you. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude but how exactly did you get my number?” You watched as Carmy ran a hand across his mouth, eyes wide your name slipped past his lips the dire need to get you off that call racing through him.

You held your finger up to him signaling to give you a moment, too wrapped up in miraculously connecting with an old friend.

“Oh um, this is going to sound weird. I uh…I ran into Carmy the other night at the grocery store and when I asked him for his number…this is the number he gave me.” You listened as Claire spoke, the smile quickly disappearing from your lips as your eyes found Carmy’s alarmed ones.

“Carmen gave you my number?” You watched the regret flash through his eyes.

“Mhm.”

“And claimed it was his?”

“Uh kinda yeah, it’s a bit weird but maybe he was just planning to call you or something.” A small laugh left your lips, if he hadn’t called you since he last saw you, you could bet he had no plans to ever call you.

“Yeah…fuckng bizarre.” You could feel the lump forming in your throat.

“Sorry if this is weird but do you think you could give me his number?” It felt like senior year all over again and you were the bridge between these two souls

An ironic smile rose to your lips as you stared directly at Carmy, the panic glaringly obvious in his eyes because he couldn’t hear Claire’s responses.

“Oh, Claire Bear I’m so sorry I haven’t spoken to Carmy in what’s it been?” You paused your glare on Carmy impenetrable.

“Five years, since high school graduation. I don’t even have his number.” The crack in your voice was evident to all who could hear, Carmy wished he could disappear at that moment.

“Oh no, is everything okay with you two?”

“You’re too sweet. You know how it is people change, they grow apart. I just think Carmy outgrew me.” It was becoming harder and harder to swallow your tears.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that Baby. But I heard you're back in Chicago, maybe we can catch up?”

“Claire I’d love that, hey before you go try Fak for Carmy’s number I’ve heard they’re extremely close now, have a great rest of your day!” You listened as Claire said her goodbyes quickly, hanging up and placing your phone back in its designated pocket.

It was silent as you raised your head to the ceiling, a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips as you felt the tears trace down your cheeks. You were getting fucking tired of crying.

“Baby hey, hey let me exp-,” Carmy’s pleas were cut short as both of your eyes shot to his now ringing phone on the counter. Neither of you needed to be a fucking genius to figure out who was ringing Carmy’s line.

“Answer quickly Carmen, your little girlfriend is calling.” You knew it was petty and you shouldn’t be upset with Claire for chasing after what she wanted, but for once you didn’t want to be the one fighting for scraps of Carmy’s affection.

You didn’t want to have to share.

His hand quickly shot out pressing the power button on the side silencing the ringing, taking the extra step and turning it face down as he watched you just stare at it.

“Baby I-,”

“Why are you the way you are?” You were tired of putting Carmy and his feelings ahead of yourself, tired of running yourself ragged to accommodate your feelings for a grown man who was too scared of the truth.

“I-” You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. “I’m so hurt right now Carmen and I want to be angry, I want to be so fucking angry with you but I’m just hurt and exhausted, and I…I really don’t even want to waste my breath on you right now, but I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and I think I’m just done.” Carmy flinched at the sardonic laugh you let loose.

“It hurts Carmen…it hurts when the person you’ve been truly in love with for most of your life doesn’t even treat you like an option.” You ignored the sharp intake of breath that came from Carmen’s direction, surprised he even had the guts to listen to your rant.

The ringing in his ears along with your broken voice overwhelmed him.

“I have lived so much of my life for you and yeah I was stupid for that, but all I wanted was your happiness and all I wanted was happiness with you. I have given so much of myself to you Carmen I have lost pieces of u- of myself to you, Carmen.” The tears were raining down in full force.

It was one thing to cry when you were hurt but to cry out of anger and exhaustion would probably always be the worst feeling.

“All I wanted was for you to love me the way I loved you…the way I will continue loving you after today because the way I feel for you won’t just go away Carmen it will be stuck with me forever! What I lost to you will be stuck with me forever! And…and we spend this amazing weekend together and I accept that you can’t commit to me and I give you the benefit of the doubt because Mikey just died and you…fuck.” Your hand slammed against the counter top your thoughts all over the place.

“You take my number that you’ve had for a year and you give it to some girl that you had some stupid pathetic high school fucking crush on. I’m not even worth a fucking phone call to you Carmen! And I…I’m not even supposed to be here right now but you wouldn’t fucking know because your too much of a fucking coward to allow yourself to be loved to be happy!”

You could feel the oncoming migraine from how loud you were shouting, you did your best to ignore the gathering crowd, Nat and Richie at the forefront watching with worried glances, as Marcus Fak and the rest of the crew peaked through from the back.

A shuddering breath floated through your lips as you felt the lifetime of exhaustion catch up with you. “I almost gave you all of me Carmen. Please just leave me alone” The words escaped your throat in a hoarse whisper. You were so far gone that you couldn’t even see the look of heartbreak and despair marring Carmen’s features.

“Baby, hey!” Your eyes shot to Richie as he blocked your line of vision to Carmen's. Head shaking back and forth arms slowly reaching out before coming to rest on your biceps thumbs gently massaging into them. “Let’s take a break Baby calm down a bit yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along before he led you to the back, making sure to block your view of Carmen.

You were shaking as the two of you made your way past Nat a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ leaving your lips as she was left to deal with the mess that was Carmy.

“Fuck!” The loud crashes of a heavy object slamming into the floor caused you to jump in Richie’s hold as he led you back into the office.

Little tremors shook through your body as Richie carefully guided you to sit in the lone office chair. Taking his position by your legs as he squatted in front of you, worry etched into his features at having never seen you react like that.

Your hands came to grip Richie's, the tear tracks on your face now dried, you were almost positive you had run out of tears to cry.

“I lost everything, Richie,” your voice was strained. “And I…I spared him because I knew he couldn’t handle it, you knew he couldn’t handle it…not after Mikey.”

Richie’s eyes squeezed closed as he raised your intertwined hands to his forehead, haunting memories of you forcing their way through. He dropped your hands delicately cupping your face to press a kiss on your forehead, “I know Baby.” The words were spoken softly against your skin.

The two of you sat in that position as you gained control of your ragged breathing.

“I’m a hypocrite, Rich,” you separated yourself from him, locking eyes. “I blamed Carmy for so much out there…but I’ve done something so unforgivable, I don’t think you’ll look at me the same.” You wanted to cry but the exhaustion ate away at you.

“Hey I’ve been through some shit Baby, we’ve been through some shit, nothing,” the firm grip on your chin reminded you of the lost soul who should’ve been in the room with you two. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Nothing you say will change how I look at you.”

It was always weird to see Richie serious and the voice of reason, not that he didn’t have his moments, but seeing Rich without his signature smile made it feel like you had stripped him of something so personal.

“How bout this, Sug or I take you before you beat Carmy’s ass,” the sentence drew a small laugh out of you. “And then I’ll come over when I’m done here, pick up some dinner and we’ll have one of those nights like we used to when…when Mikey was still here.” You nodded your head not having enough energy to produce words.

Richie patted your knee rising to his full height as he headed to check on Sug and his idiot of a fucking cousin. “Oh hey, I’ll have Eva tonight, you don’t mind do you? She’s constantly on my ass about seeing her auntie Bebe.” Richie stood in the now open doorway awaiting your answer.

Your immediate response was yes, but you had to consider Tiff, unsure if she wanted her daughter around you considering your newly acquired title as recovering addict.

“I’d like that a lot, but I-I think you should get Tiff’s permission to bring Eva around me.” You knew your suggestion might upset Richie but it was for the best, and you would call Tiff yourself just to double-check.

“Hey no none of that shit, she’s my fucking kid too Baby.” The defensive tone in his voice immediately caused you to close your eyes, hands moving to massage your temples.

“Richie please, I just need you to do this for me okay? This isn’t about your parenting skills, Rich.” Richie watched you for a minute, the exhaustion noticeable.

He nodded sending you one last somber look before making his exit keen on chewing his little fucking asshole cousin a new one.

Richie could feel his anger rising in him as he walked past Marcus and Fak as they worked to remove appliances from the kitchen. He quickly sauntered toward the whispers of Sugar and Carmy becoming clearer as he finally made it to the front of the restaurant.

The first thing his eyes took notice of was the destroyed cash register lying in the middle of the floor, debris from the relic scattered across the room. Richie stood there taking in the scene, the two Berzatto siblings' conversation coming to a halt as Richie blew out a whistle, walking around the mess slowly clapping.

“You’re a real fucking piece of work Cousin,” Richie’s hand shot out to point in Carmy’s direction the younger man looking disheveled, the frown on his face almost comical.

Natalie felt her shoulders tense; she had known these two long enough to know nothing good would come out of this interaction. The fact that you were in the middle of all this would make whatever happened right now all the worse.

There were two things in the world Richie didn’t play about, little Eva; and you.

“Richie I don’t need your fucking bullshit right now.” Carmy moved to walk around the counter, hands fumbling in his pocket to get his cigarettes out, his focus on the door he was trying to escape through.

“You’re a piece of shit cousin.” Richie’s hands shot out to grip the collar of Carmy’s crew neck, shoving him into the counter.

Natalie’s shocked gasp of Richie’s name did nothing to tear the men away from each other.

“Get the fuck outta my face, Richie.” The shorter man shoved the man standing in front of him.

A rueful smile raised to Richie’s lips “That girl has bent over backward for your conceited ass time and time again, and you go and ruin the only good fucking thing you have going for yourself.” Richie’s hand raised thumb and middle finger moving to flick Carmy between the brows.

“You’re the last person that gets to talk to me about fucking ruining good things in my life.” Carmy’s free hand moved to swat at Richie’s.

“That empty fucking head of yours is so far up your ass you can’t see what the fucks been in front of you this whole time.

“Yo fuck you, Richie!”

The two loud voices echoed throughout the restaurant as the angry men tried to outyell each other.

“No you fucking listen to me! You don’t know what the fuck that girls been through. Where the fuck were you when shit went down Carmen! Huh!” Richie shoved Carmy again, the anger he felt for you pouring through him.

“Why the fuck weren’t you there for her whe-.”

“Richie!” Natalie’s stern voice caused Richie to harness some of his anger. “No.” The subtle shake of her head stopped his sentence mid-thought.

“You’re worse than the shit on the bottom of my shoe, and you don’t deserve to touch one pretty little hair on that girl’s head. And if I ever have to listen to her cry over you, watch her hurt over you again, you’re gonna wish Mikey was still here to save your ass.” Richie’s hand shot out to slap against the side of Carmen’s head, “Fucking bum.”

He removed himself from Carmy’s space, hands immediately raising as he faced Nat’s exhausted stare. “Sug I’m sorry, but get Baby home will you? I gotta finish up shit round here.”

Richie left the two Berzatto siblings to stand in the now quiet front of the restaurant, the sooner he finished his shit here, the sooner he and Eva could spend the evening with you.

Natalie looked at her younger brother scared of how this sequence of events would affect him. She took a step forward hand reaching out to Carmy before dropping it, “Hey, you okay?” The two siblings stood in silence, one worried about the well-being of her remaining brother.

And the other was trying to collect his racing thoughts, too many zooming through for him to even land on one.

“Where are we with the permits?” To Carmy’s ears, it sounded like he was underwater, his voice muffled, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Carm-.” Nat’s words were cut off with no chance of consoling him.

“Just get her home Nat and get back to me on those permits please.” Natalie watched as Carmy collected his phone and jacket, an unfocused wave of his hand sent in her direction before making his way through the exit, disappearing to who knows where.

Natalie watched as the front door latched shut, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for pushing you into this environment. If she had just let you re-acclimate yourself on your own time, maybe this situation could’ve been avoided.

Her hand fell to her stomach, eyes following suit, “Welcome to the family little one.”

The sound of your doorbell constantly ringing tore your stare away from the bottle sitting on your coffee table. You sat still for a minute before remembering the plans you made with Richie earlier in the day, your eyes shooting to the bottle before you quickly moved to hide it behind one of the couch pillows.

Since Natalie dropped you off earlier you had gone back and forth with the idea of finally coming clean to Richie. Your decision was led by your emotions from earlier in the day, but after finding the bottle of champagne you received in The Tribune’s welcome basket shoved in the back of your pantry, you were sorely rethinking your decision.

You adjusted the pillow to disguise any misshapen lumps before hurrying to the door to greet your guest. Hoping the forced smile was enough you opened the door feeling the once-fake smile begin to settle into a genuine one as you took in the father-daughter duo on your porch.

“Auntie Bebe!” You laughed, a lump forming in your throat at how big the young girl seemed to have gotten.

“Little E is that you?” Eva giggled at the exaggerated gasp you let out before throwing herself against your legs squeezing you tight.

She unlatched herself from you before gripping your hand and moving into the house, “Daddy bought us pizza!”

“Hey, Eva take your shoes off.” Richie gave you a small smile as he scolded the little girl, her huff of annoyance not going unnoticed by the two of you.

Richie finally walked through the door shutting and locking it behind him staring at you as he waited for instructions, “Hey E go ahead to the living room and pick out something to watch okay? I’m gonna help your dad real quick.”

You were rewarded with her adorable smile as she ran in the direction you pointed her to. You turned back to Richie taking the two pizza boxes from his hand to allow him to remove his shoes and jacket.

The two of you made your way to the kitchen setting the boxes down on your island with a clear view of Eva scrolling through your tv. You maneuvered around the kitchen for plates before brandishing them to Richie, eyes caught on Eva’s small figure in your living room.

“She’s gotten so big,” the tears you thought had run out earlier were once again making their appearance.

Richie’s head turned to you, “Aww Baby look at you ready to cry and shit, you just saw her a year ago.”

You listened to Richie’s intoxicating laugh, trying your best to find the humor in his words. The notion was hard though when the last memory you could’ve had of the sweet little girl waiting for the two of you in the living room was holding her at a funeral that could have just as easily been yours.

“You coming Baby?” Richie’s raised brows were aimed at you, he had already made his way to the living room setting the smaller plate in front of Eva.

You cleared your throat nodding your head with a forced smile on your lips. It was settled, Richie had every right to know that there could have been a universe where he had to survive without Mikey and you.

Eva was cuddled into your side as your fingers stoked through her blonde locks, her smaller hand playing with the rings on your free hand. The two of you sat staring at the paused episode of ‘The Dragon Prince’ waiting for Richie to return from the bathroom.

Sitting with Eva in your living room made your heart heavy with what could’ve been. A small sad smile traced your lips as you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

Eva’s head turned to yours, her tongue poking out at you as you returned the gesture, the two of you going back and forth making silly faces at each other before she released a small yawn. You watched as her small hand rose to gently run her little fingers across the scars on your face.

“Auntie Bebe?” You made a small noise to let her know you were listening. “Are you going to die?”

Your brows pinched together, Eva’s hand prodded at the scar between your eyebrows that was now more prominent, “Hey hey, where is this coming from?”

Her hand lowered to her lap as she turned her attention back to your ring-clad hand. “Mommy said you were sick…like Uncle Mikey…and that you tried to be with him.”

The ache in your chest was instant, you knew Tiff had tried to explain why you hadn’t visited but you didn’t know Eva had such an understanding of everything.

She raised your hand so it was in front of the two of you, little fingers dancing across yours, “And Uncle Mikey left us 'cause he was sick and I don’t want you to leave to Bebe.”

“Little E, look at me,” you waited as she adjusted next to you small body, cuddling into you more as her face turned to you. “I was sick…just like Uncle Mikey, but I’m doing a lot better now. And I got hurt, that’s why I have these scars on my face but a lot of good people helped me, like Auntie Nat, and even your mom.”

You stopped allowing the child to digest your words, you were trying to explain things in the simplest terms, and the small girl next to you didn’t need to know any of the details. “As much as I miss Uncle Mikey I could never leave behind my Little E.”

Eva shrieked as you moved forward to tickle her doing your best to make a very tough conversation end on a light note for the sweet little girl who brought joy to your world.

“How about some ice cream, yeah?” You watched as the small girl nodded up and down excitedly, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck as she planted a small kiss on your cheek.

“I missed you, Auntie Bebe.”

Your hand reached out to ruffle the girl's hair, “I missed you too Little E.” She removed herself from around you laying across the empty couch cushions.

You let out a little laugh before grabbing the empty plates and moving to the kitchen to get Eva her ice cream. You jumped at the sight of Richie leaning against the island in your kitchen arms crossed against his chest.

“Why are you standing in my kitchen like a fucking weirdo Richie,” you laughed moving to place the plates in the sink before grabbing a bowl for the ice cream. “Eva’s okay to have ice cream right, I know it's a little late bu-”

“What the hell was Eva talking about Baby,” you looked over your shoulder Richie’s stern eyes focused on you eyes piercing through you as opposed to at you.

You sat the bowl and ice cream on the island before searching for your ice cream scooper, the silence droning on as you began scooping out ice cream for Eva.

“I fucked up Richie,” you finally looked up to Richie eyes wet with tears as you watched him tightly shut his eyes and begin shaking his head back and forth. Not prepared for what he was about to hear.

You quickly finished with ice cream, returning everything to its location and dropping the scoop in the sink before grabbing a spoon. You made your way to Eva sending her a small smile as you handed the bowl to her, “I need to talk to your daddy okay? Go ahead and finish watching without us mamas.” Your words went in one ear and out the other, her attention fully on the treat in her hands. You gave her one last smile before braving yourself for what the kitchen had in store for you.

“I uh…I was in a bad place after Chicago we had just buried Mikey and then…the hospital happened,” you stopped taking a deep breath to get through this conversation. “I should’ve come home Richie I-.” You couldn’t get the words out your throat felt like it was constricting. It felt as though if you tried confessing you would choke on the words before you could even come clean to Richie.

Richie sat next to you at your small circular dining table chair turned towards you, eyes flicking to Eva’s figure every few seconds to make sure she was okay. Richie wasn’t even sure he wanted you to continue, but a huge part of him needed to know what you went through, he thought he had already seen you at your lowest point but the gravity of your words assured him that was nothing compared to the confession you were about to lay at his feet.

“I overdosed Rich.” Richie froze having thought he hadn’t heard you correctly for a second but as he watched the despair take over your face, he knew he heard you right.

His hand came up to wipe across his mouth, the reality of your words barely setting in. “Baby no, no, no, no.” The laugh that accompanied his words morphed into a silent sob as he tucked his head into his hands.

You swallowed your cry fighting to escape as you turned to make sure Eva was still okay, a reprieve from the hard conversation you were having.

You moved from your chair standing in front of Richie so you could console him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled against your stomach, the shaking of his body proof to you that cries were still wracking his body.

The silent sobs turned into quiet cries, his hands gripping the extra fabric of your shirt at the waist. Your tears could no longer be held back bending at the waist you rested your forehead against the back of Richie’s head.

While Richie was crying over the sister he almost lost; you cried over the lives you ruined.

“Auntie Bebe I finished my ice cream!” You took in a deep breath against Richie’s head moving your own from its previous position.

You moved to step out of Richie’s grip, his hands tightening around your shirt tears seeping through to dampen your skin. “I gotta help E, I promise I’ll be back Richie.”

The breath you took in choked you as you had to pry Richie’s clenched fingers out of the fabric of your shirt. You quickly wiped your cheeks before making your way over to Eva grabbing the bowl from her hands and sending her a forced smile.

“Can I spend the night Bebe?” The hope in her eyes made your chest heave.

“How about I call your mom tomorrow and we arrange something for another time, is that okay with you?” Your hands brushed across her forehead, clearing the hair from her face.

She pouted, sinking into the couch cushion, “E, hey you can come visit me whenever, but tonight just isn’t a good night for a sleepover.”

You watched as her eyes began to water, “But what if you try to leave again?” You hadn’t realized how intuitive children could be at times, you bent down to make yourself eye level with Eva.

“Listen, mamas, I’m just a phone call away okay? Anytime you’re scared I might be gone just ask your mom or dad to call me and I’ll answer every time, I promise.” Everyone knew making promises to children was a slippery slope, but you intended on keeping this promise with every ounce of your being, it was time for you to start taking some responsibility.

Eva nodded her head throwing her little arms around your neck and gracing you with a hug you weren’t aware you needed. You gave a small kiss to her temple before pulling away and setting the empty bowl on your coffee table.

“How about you lay down okay? Your dad and I might be awhile,” She nodded, moving and leaning against the pillow, her sudden weight revealing the champagne bottle you had hidden behind it, you quickly covered her with the throw blanket on your couch before picking up the bowl and bottle and making your way back to the kitchen.

You gently placed the bowl in the sink before making your way over to Richie whose head was still in his hands. His eyes found yours as he heard you take your seat, before skating across the unopened bottle you had set between the two of you.

“I’ve been sober for five months now,” watching Richie’s bloodshot eyes slowly blink at you as he drank your every word in felt like a knife being continuously shoved through your chest. “No drugs, no alcohol.” Your voice trailed off, this was the first time you had admitted your shortcomings by choice.

“Ho-How’d it happen?” Your eyes focused on Richie’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down, his face pinching together like asking that simple question was equivalent to swallowing glass.

“I uh don’t know the full story, just what the doctors told Nat and me,” you could see the hurt on his face that Nat was already privy to the information. “I didn’t tell her by choice, uh after my mom died my family kind of distanced themselves from me and so N-Nat became my power of attorney.”

He nodded his head, unfocused eyes floating around your kitchen, “Can you tell me?”

A tired sigh left you “Rich I don’t thi-,”

“I need to know Baby, please.” His hand shot out to grip yours, desperation you had never before seen seeping from his eyes.

You cleared your throat taking in a deep breath, “When I left Chicago, I just felt so…alone. It was like everywhere I looked there was either a reminder of Mikey or a reminder of…of what we lost.” Richie’s free hand returned to swipe across his mouth, eyes everywhere but you.

“The pills were prescription I…I can’t remember when I started taking them or when the dependency started but I-I know the alcohol started first. I deluded myself into thinking that I could do what Mikey couldn't…that I could numb the pain and function at the same time.

“It was like that for a while and then it just gradually got worse until I ended up hospitalized with no recollection of how I even got there and…and Natalie just crying and staring at me and the thing is I had heard those cries from her once before.” The same cries you listened to as she revealed Mikey’s fate to you.

“Um, the story is that I had been mixing drugs and alcohol which yeah I was. But that day I guess it finally went too far, for some reason I was trying to get to my patio and I guess I couldn’t figure out the door, I just…repeatedly threw myself into the glass until it shattered.” Your free hand moved unconsciously to pick at the scar lining the right side of your jaw, Richie’s hand quickly snatching it away urging you to continue your story.

“Wasn’t done yet though was I,” you looked at Richie expecting a chuckle out of him but the stoic look in his eyes told you he wasn’t in the mood for half-baked jokes. “I took two more pills and stumbled bloody through my apartment before making it out of my door and collapsing in a pool of my blood and vomit. A neighbor found me and called the ambulance.” You were glad you had no recollections of what would’ve been your final moments.

The silence in the kitchen was heavy, the words you had shared between the two of you more than anything Richie could have ever prepared himself for.

“Baby why…why didn’t you call me?” Richie’s hand covered his mouth in a fist as another cry escaped his lips wide teary eyes finally focused on yours.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Richie could feel his heart breaking as he listened to the crack in your voice as you spoke, you had been so scared to disappoint him that you had hidden a part of yourself for him for so long.

“How long have you been in Chicago? You avoided Richie’s gaze, not brave enough to see the look of hurt and betrayal.

“I spent a month in Wisconsin at a treatment facility, I’ve been in Chicago since December.”

“And Tiff knew about this?”

“Yeah…uh she kind of forced it out of Natalie, I guess Eva kept asking about me.” You watched as Richie’s head slowly nodded as he carefully let your words play in his head.

Richie leaned forward in his chair, elbows coming to rest on his knees as his clasped hands rested against his mouth.

“I’m not disappointed in you Baby,” Richie’s eyes rose to yours. “But I’m real fuckin hurt and the shit you just laid on me was a lot to take in but I…I want to understand and I want to be here for you.”

The tears that had subsided were now back pouring down your face in droves, “I’m so sorry Richie, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I promise you I’m trying to be better, I will be better. I don’t think I'll get another shot at this after this one.”

Richie stood from his chair pulling you up with him, immediately tugging you into his chest hugging you tightly under the ambient kitchen lighting. He knew his hugs would never match up to Mikey’s, that his role in your life would never compare to Mikey's. But he loved you so much and learning that you had fallen victim to the same poison as Mikey made him feel like an utter failure.

Richie tilted his head down planting a kiss on the crown of your head, the saltiness of his tears passing over his lips.

What purpose did he have if he couldn’t even keep his last promise to Mikey?

Carmen’s day had come to an end hours ago but he just couldn’t get himself to fall asleep, all the words you had said to him playing over and over again in his head.

He had been so caught up in your argument that he blew his food-hopping plans off with Syd, and couldn’t even get himself to return any of the many missed phone calls he received from the number he knew to be Claire’s

Not that he even wanted to but he felt the girl deserved a proper explanation.

After leaving the restaurant and wandering the Chicago streets he found himself back where his life seemed to begin and end. Pouring what was left of him into helping the rest of the crew start the gut on the restaurant. He wasn’t proud that he let his emotions regarding your situation get the best of him, leading to an unnecessary and petty argument with Sydney. But he knew the two of them would work their issues out.

He couldn’t be sure that the same could be said for the two of you though.

The journal he had started a year ago sat open in his lap, the Polaroid he used to keep his place gently rested on his bedside table, the small lamp illuminated the two of you staring at each other eyes full of love as you wore matching smiles.

A teardrop landed on the ink-stained pages of his journal. The words he wanted to say to you easily poured out of him when he sat down to write to you. The journal began as a way for him to express what he felt for you, but as the months went on and the writing became a part of his routine they turned into letters to you he’d never have the guts to send.

His hand came up to swipe across his face before reaching for the pristine Polaroid and neatly tucking it between the designated pages. The journal was then safely placed in his bedside drawer. He knew he needed to give you space, he just wasn’t sure if there had ever been a future written in the stars for the two of you.

Picking up his phone he opened it to your newly saved contact, the need to hear your voice spilling more tears from his eyes. Your voice rang through his head as he thought about your words from earlier, Carmy couldn’t lie, he knew you loved him and had known for a while but hearing you say it aloud had finally awoken that part in him that would allow himself the pleasure of loving you back.

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t get himself to call you. A sob ripped through him as he locked his phone and set it down, the hope he had earlier to work things out with you was now gone, and he had no one left to blame but himself.

Carmy laid back in bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, one arm bent at a right angle to support his head. He had really and truly ruined whatever relationship was left between you two.

Carmy’s hand dipped into the collar of his tank top, gripping the small pendant he found dangling from his chain after returning home from his shift the night you made your departure from his New York apartment.

His fingers had gotten used to tracing over the initial of your first name that he proudly wore around his neck. The closest thing he even had to you now.

Carmy’s eyes watered as he raised the initial pendant to his lips, a lingering kiss pressed into it, and a whispered “I love you,” filtered through the quiet of his room.

tag list: @saturnheart @r0s3mm @wheredidmycrowngo @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @jam1esl0v4 @globetrotter28 @dankfarrick29 @flowersgirl02 @beingalive1 @fairytale07 @smoooore @ghost-timelord @xxxstormyninixxx

so i’ve reached the limit of people i can mention in a single post, i apologize if you asked to be tagged and were left off it was not intentional. i’m gonna figure something out to try and fix this…sorry : (