#what am I even talking about idk I'm so stressed I'm losing it

[kebriones]

Socrates didn't get drunk, didn't get cold, he probably didn't feel anything waxing his legs either.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @angel98624 @anoverwhelmingdin @pimosworld @nandan11 @iloveenya @survivingandenduring

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for breaking up with my boyfriend because he likes my body?

TW for ED but please hear me out:

My bf (30m) and I (28f) have been together for a little over 5 years. When we got together I had an extremely stressful and physically demanding job. Shortly after our relationship started I relapsed with an eating disorder that had been a problem since prepubescence; I started restricting heavily at age 11 and had struggled with it on/off since then.

After quitting that terrible job and regaining some agency in my life, I spent a couple of years really focused on recovery. Without giving specific numbers (cause triggering) I'll say that I was extremely underweight to an unhealthy level for at least a year and experienced severe health complications because of it. I nearly died from heart problems and had a big wakeup call that caused me to change my whole life. I've done the work of recovery without medical help (history of omission with doctors) but have had support from my bf, and am currently at the highest weight of my life.

at a recent checkup my Dr talked a lot about "healthy lifestyle" and mentioned my weight gain over the past couple of years. I'm still within the "normal" range for my height and build, but the after visit summary/chart notes denoted risk of becoming overweight. Idk if my Dr would have brought it up if my history of ED was in my chart, (and I did switch primary care practices a few years ago, so they weren't treating me at my thinnest) but it still shook me a bit and I will admit to feeling very triggered.

The job I moved to is quite sedentary compared to the previous terrible one - I wfh, and very rarely have to be on my feet or do strenuous activity. In addition, I have chronic pain issues that make exercise difficult, and so historically have just restricted to maintain/lose weight because it's easier for me physically to just be hungry than to work out. I didn't want to go down that road again though because of how intense and scary it got last time.

My bf is a personal trainer and specializes in working with low ability clients and people recovering from long illness/injury. When I told him that I wanted to start exercising more often and get a good cardio routine going, he was really excited and started immediately putting together an "action plan" (what he calls it w his clients idk) for me. Then he mentioned how I'd need to add on a bunch of meal supplements and snacks to avoid losing weight and I got upset.

We're a plant-based (vegan) household and live with a roommate (bf's friend) so mostly eat/cook communal dinners and have various breakfast & lunch plans on hand, so we already eat pretty healthy and make sure to have a good balance of macro/micro in the meal plan. My intent was to eat the same but increase my activity level to get out of the danger zone without restricting. I don't generally snack and rarely eat dessert, just the 3 squares.

I told my bf that I needed to lose weight and be more active according to my doctor, and that I wasn't comfortable with having protein supplements, smoothies, and snacks in addition to regular meals because that would defeat the purpose. He got really sad and said that he likes the way my body is now, and while he supports being more active, he doesn't want the size of me to change. His exact words at some point were "you look so good now, I love the amount of you that there is and I like the way you jiggle." It kind of made me feel sick and wonder if he has like a secret size fetish or something?

So I've been thinking of breaking things off with him and moving in with a friend or back in with my parents, but idk if this is actually a red flag or just the disorder talking? He did help me a lot with recovery but if he's going to keep me from being healthy or wants me to gain even more weight then maybe it's better to leave - would this be an asshole move? I honestly don't know.

[6feathered6siren6]

ok but like hear me out any of the KC LIs x Doctor reader (idk why this came into my head at like 3 am)

Doctor, Doctor

Notes: I didn't know which one to choose, and couldn't make a full on story(Working on time loop reader rn, about half way done for the next update), so I wrote some hcs and a small snip bits of each one. But I hope it's enjoyable!

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Trigger warning

Death/killing

Slight gore?

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ

Misaki

Your number 1 clutz, she works often to pay bills, so you always can expect her to get injured somehow. You always make sure they have a first aid kit in her house. 

You always have cartoon band aids for her, you always see her with a smile seeing them on her. When she scraped her hand from jumping off a height, you were there with the most stupid cartoon band aid you guys were laughing at. 

Misaki, at first, tried to hide injuries and scrapes after learning you were a doctor. They didn’t want to worry you or bother you. Especially, when you are dealing with other patients who need you more. Well, until you sat them down and had a very important conversation

Misaki supports your job, but on days where you lose a patient, the dark days, they pull you onto the couch and watch shows or movies until you feel better. 

▄︻デ══━一

You were on vacation visiting your partner, you stayed at her place while she was at their job. You picked up some fast food for dinner tonight, an easy night for the both of you. To cuddle up on their bed and eat it while being together. You were at her table, just playing on your phone, when she came home. She was scraped up. 

“Misaki? What happened?” Immediately rushing to her side. Nothing but scraps and bruises. Scratching the back of her head with a goofy smile, you know she was fine, just slightly injured. 

You sighed as you shoved them onto a chair, pulling your first aid from your bag. “So… I kinda jumped from a height that I knew I wasn’t gonna die from but… still scraped myself… So I'm good, still?” 

You laughed softly as they rambled, you were making sure she was bandaged correctly and that they wouldn’t scar. After you kissed her forehead. “Please be careful, I don’t want you as a full patient, then I wouldn’t be able to slip kisses on you.” 

She gasped, “Then, I’ll make sure! I need those kiss taxes for each bandaid.”

❤︎

V

He thinks you're honorable for being able to help others, even ones who do not need it. You work long and hard for your job for the people who need to be fed to his animals. 

When he does get injured, he either does it himself, at least not to worry you, or get you. You do talk as you patch him for simple injuries. He learns a lot about the health care you do. And he is very appreciative about this. 

Sure, you are a doctor for only humans, but you do patch up the animals(At least, the ones who are calm around you). And if you don’t know something and he does, he will teach you. Afterall, you do like helping people. 

After losing a patient or an animal from V’s care, V will make sure you are resting and taking your time to grief. You know you can’t always save them and he will say it as well. He makes sure you are eating and brings a hot drink for you(either tea or hot cocoa). If you need a day away from everything and just rest in bed, he would make sure you have some breakfast with juice next to it. 

▬ι═ﺤ

You opened the door to V’s home, you got off of work, and V invited you into his home for dinner. After having a stressful day, you just wanted to relax, but V wasn’t home. It was quiet and dark, turning on the lights, you see some animals hungry and the plants need their water. 

Grabbing the assorted food for each animal and giving the plants their water as well. You sit on his desk chair, stretching while you yawn. It seems V would be late to his own dinner invite, leaving you a smile, knowing this is a rare occurrence. Well, for a moment before seeing your lover walk in. He was holding his arm tightly.

Getting up and running towards him, immediately accessing his injuries. “Where did you put the first aid?” 

Him, now noticing you were in his place, “Near my computer.” He sat on his bed when you were climbing his steps, removing his hand for you to fix it up for him. “Didn’t expect you here. I would have done it myself.” 

“Well, a certain someone asked me to join him for dinner. I just didn’t expect to see you sliced up. Bad fight.” He nods. Placing that smile as you continue to patch him up. “Well, since I do not want to cook tonight, and I am gonna ban you from using your arm for a bit, let’s get takeout tonight. I’ll pay.” 

He was gonna reject the offer but knowing how much you care about people, he just agrees. Allowing you to finish up and buy food that you both like. Enjoy a somewhat relaxed dinner date with your boyfriend. 

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

Angel 

Even though both of you have very demanding jobs, you both share a calendar on each of your phones to track when you guys hang out. Before both of you moved in together, you guys would sleep call about each other's jobs. 

When you notice she isn't taking care of herself, you try to make sure she does. Didn’t eat? You took your break early to make sure she eats. Tired? You pop up with a coffee with a note saying, ‘Sleep when you can love’. When she notices when you are also not taking care of yourself, she makes sure to take the next few days off with you to make sure you are on top health. She doesn’t want her favorite doctor to fall ill. 

When you find out that she is a cannibal, you often sneak out human bits for her, sure it’s a joke. But you always notice they disappear sooner or later. 

After losing a patient at your job, you would always take the next day off. And she would be at the ready. Holding you close as you cry into her arms, playing music in a playlist you both made. Just spending time with you until you feel better. 

▄︻═════

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, you had a patient pass away from their illness. They were a nice kid who had dreams of becoming a doctor like you. Someone like… you. You felt like you disappointed the child and their parents. Everyone except the child knew they weren’t able to live as long, and kept this from everyone. It devastated you. 

You heard your bedroom door open, looking over to see Angel with a steaming cup. She offered a small, comforting smile towards you. She sat closer to you as she shifted your head onto her lap. 

“I’m here for you.” She plays with your hair as she places the cup on your nightstand with her other hand. She hums softly to fill the quiet air around the both of you. 

She does make sure you eat and drink something, as you would do for her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Ronin

Ronin wants to be able to see you often, either calling during your job or just showing up for a ‘check up’. Just to annoy you(But it always leaves you a smile everytime he does.). 

If you are a surgeon, he drags you out to his murders, you have to show him how to remove something. And he can, he wants you to, seeing you covered in blood reminds him that you aren’t some saving grace. 

If he’s injured, he just shows up to your place, bloody and bruised. Leaving you to patch him up, after all you are the doctor. Luckily, you always carry first aid. Though, you do reprimand him while you do, heck when he gets sassy, you knock the back of his head. But he will laugh at you when you do, knowing he pissed you off. 

On the unlucky days, losing a patient, Ronin was there. His twisted words always make you feel better somehow. Pulling you into his arms as he talked about his own job, distracting you from your own horrible reality at the moment. Or brings up the server, talking about how V isn’t getting any closer while pulling in jokes to see you smile. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Ronin dragged you out of your place, you just finished a 11 hour shift, so of course being tired was a understandment. Luckily, he brought you your favorite caffeine drink, a compromise in his eyes. Taking sips as he dragged you into his alleyway. He was out dragging poor souls that he would slaughter. 

He always brought you to so he can also learn about your job, using the dead boys to explain. Surgeon? You have to cut open the body to show how you do it at work. Check ups? You would have to use scraps nearby that could get the job done. If the victim was unknown to both of you, you would evaluate the body. The dead man was an alcoholic, and abused his lover for little details. You knew him as well. He treated you poorly. Maybe, Ronin did poison your brain for smiling at the male being dead. 

You were unbothered by the scene now, sipping your drink as you see Ronin stepping closer. “You have time tomorrow?” You shook your head. “Good, I need my favorite health care person tomorrow. I need to see how knowledgeable you are.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, but you know you would be there with your boyfriend. No matter the mess you would see. 

“Now let's go, you seem like you are about to drop dead.” 

“Says the man who dragged me out of bed to see them kill someone.”

“What can I say, I need my partner to see the bad man dead.”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Hope you enjoyed it again! Anyway, happy holidays!

[praetorqueenreyna]

well i AM asking for the essay on modern ACOTAR fandom please🙏😩

YOU ARE ALL ENABLERS!!! FINE I SHALL WRITE MY ESSAY!!!!! I'm putting it under a read more because I'm embarrassed of how long it is.

ACOTAR fandom is strange in a fascinating and NOT FUN way. Fandom has gotten SO restrictive recently, it's suffocating. And idk what it is about ACOTAR, but its fans are among the WORST. Whatever discourse you've seen in other fandoms, multiply it by 10 to get the experience of being in mainstream ACOTAR fandom. It is an unchallenged belief in this fandom that writing, drawing, or consuming any kind of content that isn't 100% healthy in the real world means that you - YOU!!!!! - are a danger to real life human beings. Criticizing a character's choices and the author's writing decisions is warped into you being an abuse apologist and also you probably yell at abuse victims in real life. A drawing of Tamlin and Elain sitting in a garden is now a disgusting acceptance of real life abusers and you're traumatizing every abuse survivor.

I can think of countless examples off the top of my head of real life human beings being harassed and bullied and called all kinds of nasty names for the fictional content they create about fictional characters. Like, I cannot stress enough the irony of these puritans spouting off in woke-enese about how "dangerous" certain fans are being incredibly verbally and emotionally abusive to people in this fandom. A fanartist on Instagram was painting portraits of each of the ACOTAR characters, and as a fun framing device, each painting was meant to be a painting that Feyre would make, and the captions talked about how the artist thought Feyre would paint this character. A charming and delightful series taking advantage of the fact that the main character is a painter, right? WRONG!!! This artist did a painting of Tamlin, and she was raked across the coals for DARING to even IMPLY that Feyre ever even THOUGHT about Tamlin or could even CONSIDER forgiving him enough to paint him. She was accused of "forcing an abuse survivor to think about her abuser." Like, do you see how absurd that is?? Feyre isn't real!! Nobody forced anybody to do anything! That's the kind of batshit insane nonsense we're dealing with.

Not to mention any depicition or joking about the series' villains is seen as you endorsing REAL LIFE VILLAINY!! me and my friends are constantly under fire for DARING to enjoy villainous characters or dark content. I feel like I shouldn't even have to say it, but the content that you create and consume doesn't say anything about you as a person. People who are very well adjusted, kind, and happy will engage with dark content for a variety of reasons. Some use it as a coping/healing mechanism, some just find dark content fascinating and worthy of exploration, and some people have dark fantasies. This fandom behaves as if the things you make and consume are examples of what you consider "healthy" and things that you want to do to real life people. It's INCONCEIVABLE to them that you could enjoy something in fiction and not endorse it in real life. INCONCEIVABLE!!

Aside from the irony of people claiming to battle against toxicity screaming violent insults at real life people over fictional characters, this is very very funny. Those of us that have been in the rarepair trenches in other fandoms can't help but laugh at these grown ass women losing their minds because somebody drew a blonde man. The culmination of this has been the runners of Elain Week refusing to even SEE characters they don't like. The visage of Tamlin will shatter their fragile minds and send them to their early graves. And this isn't even TOUCHING how their standard for which characters are Acceptable and which ones aren't is almost solely decided by what the author has explicitly stated and not based on any critical thinking or analysis.

The sheer and utter absurdity of this fandom in particular being SO hung up on canon should be studied. SJM is such a poor writer that she contradicts canon within the same book. I am firmly convinced that nobody actually reads her novels all the way through before they are published. This canon is bad. Which is why it's so baffling that this fandom in particular is so obsessed with canon and what the author has stated both within the books and in interviews. SJM says this character is bad, and so they are BAD!!! This character is good, and so they are GOOD. Oftentimes if you see people try to tear down Tamlin, they'll bring up SJM saying that he's abusive in interviews, talking about how she doesn't like him, and bringing up that she put a hotline for abuse survivors in the back of one of the books. SJM has said that he's an abuser, and so therefore he IS, and there is no further investigation.

Again, a kindergarden concept I didn't think I'd have to explain to a bunch of grown adults on the internet, but a creator's intention is not the end all be all of discussion. It's certainly a part of the analysis, but it is also up to the reader to determine if the author has convinced you of the story they're trying to tell. For example, the creator Joss Whedon clearly created Buffy the Vampire Slayer to be a feminist, empowering show for women. However, the viewer can watch the show and point out areas where he failed in this intention and allowed misogyny, racism, and homophobia to seep into his works. Imagine if every time you tried to criticize a "feminist" show made by a man, the fans screamed at you that the creator said it's feminist, and so therefore it is, and that's the end of that.

This is PARTICULARLY galling with SJM's villains. A lot of them are just...not written well, or convincingly, or realistically. BUT a lot of them are sexual predators, and so any discussion about them and their character is cut off at the source. SJM tells you that these people are BAD GUYS and you have to accept it, otherwise you're defending r*pists. It's especially hilarious because a lot of her "good" guys also commit many horrible acts. Part of the hilarity of the Elain Week nonsense is that the man that the creators ship Elain with, Azriel, is a PROFESSIONAL TORTURER. But SJM says he's good and sympathetic, so therefore, he is. And it's an entirely different essay to go into how SJM portrays her female villains, and I got Cancelled for it last time I tried so NO YOU CANT MAKE ME!!!

Lastly, I'll mention the bloated victim complex of people that like popular things. Again, not unique to ACOTAR fandom, but certainly very prevalent. The people who are in the majority NEED to feel like they're the underdog, fighting the good fight. Hence having the people who like one of the MAIN CHARACTERS and one of the Top 5 Most Popular Ships acting like they are Jesus on the cross for shipping Elain and Bland Dude #4. They work themselves into a paranoid frenzy, feeling attacked at every twist and turn. I would bet my LIFE that the people that run Elain Week have never even seen Beron/Elain content, let alone had it submitted to their event. But they got themselves all worked up about the Evil Tamlin Cabal RUINING THE EVENT that they made these rules that are simply ridiculous. And it backfired on them. Me and my friends have been accused of ruining other character weeks for making content for ships that WE like but the moderators don't. They'll see one single Rhysand/Tamlin drawing and act like you've fucking shot them. They genuinely feel like nobody likes Feyre or Rhysand, the most popular characters, and everyone supports Tamlin. It's insane and they need to get offline. I've seen people wearing Night Court merch in real life. Trust me, you won. You are not the victim.

[strawberry-spectre]

okay i need to hear your FULL thoughts on the spelltine comic!!!!!!

ALRIGHT LETS GOOOOOO (ill be commenting on every page of the comic so its gonna be long)

P1. I absolutely LOVE Whisp here, she's so supportive and so fun and I love how they drew her platonically kissing Valentine when he fell (also the pose she makes is the same as the one Val makes in P6 lol). Idk if the ' after some of the words Valentine says is suppose to be showing his southern accent but I love it. I also love the reference to the Eternal Body Odor pit it's so silly :,) BUT NOTHING BEATS VALENTINE DEAD ON THE FLOOR LMAO- and our queen Drac here looks GOREGOUS and I love how they gave her the pink bat necklace Clawd got her in one of the earlier webisodes its soo cute!!

P2. One of my favourite things on this page is how Valentine went from 'WOULDYOULIKETOBEFRIENDS' to 'I mean-' like its so funny how hes tryna act cool even though Draculaura alr saw how nervous he was lmao, the sparkles and sigh puff thing rly made it so much better. My other favourite on this page is Valentine stressing over that interaction with wide eyes staring into nothing with his hands covering his mouth and stray hairs everywhere, its peak fr. I love how espressive Valentine is LIKE OADFVHNAEGIRJ3GVBAGEIRBVAEIUF

P3. SPELLDON DEBUT LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! he genuinely looks so cool and cute at the same time I LOVE his purple undereye eyeshadow it looks like hes got some heavy eye bags lmao- the way Spelldons just calm and collected meanwhile Valentine is reacting to everything like its the biggest shock in his life ever is so funny and I absolutely love that dynamic. I also love how many necklaces Spelldons got on its so him. My favourite line from this page is 'it's gonna be dead in a few days, like my soul' like ok emo- ITS SO FUNNYDIJVBIEAVGAERU I LOVE HIM SM- I love complaining Valentine hes so silly :,) the way he exaggerates everything is so ugh <3333

P4. ngl when I read 'magician' I immediately thought of the ones in circuses with the pulling bunnies out of a top hat kind and I was so confused- and that look on Spelldons face?? bro knew that he's gonna get dragged into some craaaazy shenanigans. I love how Spelldon expresses his emotions through his eyes but Valentine expresses it through body language. Spelldon trying to talk Valentine out of the potion with him defending the idea is so cute like lover's quarrel before the lover's <33

P5. Bro Valentine talks so much his speech bubbles take up half the page lmao- butttttt I am slightly concerned about the bat wings in the back of the store... but thats nothing compared to the skulls and bones?? ig it makes sense since its MH but I'm still cry-laughing about it :,)) idk what the word is (sarcastic or sassy or smth) BUT SPELLDON'S REPLIES R MY FAVOURITE THINGS EVERRRR 'are you doubting my potion-crafting ability?' 'not in biteology' 'you're really good at that' LIKE UGHHHIFUVHBSIETRBI HES SO FIVBEIRUBNVARIE. Not them planning a date while shopping- also wtf is that Elissabat cutout?? what did they do to her :,0000 (the Murktail sign next to it is giving foreshadowing)

P6. AHHHHHH I LOVE THEM ICE SKATING SMMM AND AS ALWAYS SPELLDON IS ROCKING IT WHILE VALS JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE FJVAEIFVBIEUR HAHAHAHA but you know what's better??? VALENTINE FALLS AND THEY FALL TOGETHERRRRR AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY MAKE ME SO SICK I LOVE THEM SM- FIVJBARI first time we see Spelldon lose his cool like damn- WITH THE FIREWORKS TOO AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (Spelldon I see your hand hovering over Valentine, its okay ;))!!!!! I love the layout for this page and P7 sm its so fun to look at and theres so much colours!! and the implication that Val and Spell went 'borrowing' the guy's 'authentic himalayan ice malt' is so SCDFVGBNHJMK AND THAT LOOK THEY GAVE EACH OTHER ORIHVNSIERBNG

P7. NOT THEM FLIRTING AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY MAKE ME WANNA KMS THEYRE SO SWEET- AND VALENTINES PULLING OUT THE FULL NAME- 'you take me to the nicest places, Spelldon Cauldronello' with that U-U face and that clasped hands okay I see you Val, I see you. Favourite thing from this page? def the expectation vs reality chibi, ITS SO CUTEEEEE SPELLDON WANTING TO PROTECT VALENTINE MAKES ME ASCEND TO HEAVEN AND VALENTINE WORRYING OVER SPELLDON IRL TAKES ME THERE- Spelldon confirming that Valentine's accent is bad is so real bro when I watched the movie for the first time I was like '...he's southern??' BUT, THAT LINE 'you don;t do it with me' IS SO SXCDVFGBNHJM like Mr Cauldronello are you jealous?? its okay you can tell me <33 Valentine thinking a fake southern accent made him cooler and added to his ~mystique~ is so SDCFVGB hes so silly :,)) (I thought they forgot to draw Valentine's irises in the scene after bc I didn't realise he was looking up lmao)

P8. Valentine trying to diverge the convosation is so real bro like dw Spelldon knows you don't actually want to make all your emotions go poof, BUT ITS STILL SUCH A CUTE SCENE LIKE HES FINALLY COME TO THE REALISATION THAT LOVE ISNT ALL THAT BAD- crying :,) and when he started to explain how he likes hanging out w Spelldon, how he's glad that what happened happened, and the 'maybe I don't want to give that up yet' UGHHHHHHH MY HEART LEGIT FLUTTERED DCFVGBHNJM AND IT WAS SUCH A HEARTFELT SCENE AND I SCREAMED SO LOUD INTERNALLY and then Spelldon drinks it lmao- like yes! have your future bf worry for a few seconds before going haha jk! love it Spelldon's so CDVFGBNH i love him sm :,))

P9. 'you really think I was going to let you excise your emotions like that?' SPELLDON I LOVE YOU- THATS SUCH A COOL LINE BRO IXJNIJFVNSIUFVBNJDFC and then he hits Val with the 'someone you cared about' line LIKE THEY MAKE ME FEEL SO SINGLE IM HURT- SPELLDON BASICALLY ADMITTED THAT HE CARES ABT VALENTINE AND YES IT WAS OBVIOUS BUT THERES JUST SOMETHING ABT SAYING IT THAT JUST HITS DIFFERENT YKNOW?? ugh I need Spelltine to be my new heart I dont want my human heart anymore :,0. AND THE WAY VALENTINE GRABBED SPELLDON'S SHIRT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH the way they looked at each other and the confession of feelings and everything and OH MY GODS THE 'maybe we can make sure it's not working...?' GODS, GODS, GODS- WE?? THE SLIGHT HESITATION?? THE FACES ONLY 10 CM AWAY FROM EACH OTHER??? your honor, they kissed. FUCK- CAN YOU TELL THAT I LOVE THIS PAGE?? THEYRE SO SWEET- KMS-

P10. THE. HAND. GRAB. gosh I can't deal with them- VALENTINE TAKING SPELLDON'S HAND WITH BOTH HIS HANDS IM SICKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK THEYRE SO SWEET- AND SPELLDON STILL HAS THE ROSE FROM VALENTINESERXDTFCYGUH oh lords they're everything- AND SPELLDON LOOKS AT VALENTINE WITH SUCH SOFT EYES WHEN WILL I HAVE WHAT THEY HAVE?? 'hmm somethings different about you, kieran valentine', Draculaura, he's come to terms with his emotions, he's made peace with the past and present, hes got an amazing bf, hes finally got that happiness, yep, very different :,DDDD

I love this so much it's the perfect ending, PERFECT. I literally can't even describe how much I love it with the 'and stop holding your hand?', the entire 'well i uh think it'll be cool if you met her- if you wanna thay is' text and EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IS PERFECTION. ABSOLUTE P E R F E C T I O N. AND THE WAY VALENTINE LEANS AGAINST SPELLDON AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHO NEEDS THERAPY WHEN YOU'VE GOT THIS???? AND SPELLDON BLUSHING IS SO CUTEEEEEE THEYRE SO CUTEE gods I need help-

summary: they are so damn sweet, the comic layout is so good, the emotions was perfect, everything is perfect, I'm gonna die from happiness overload, I feel like a proud mother seeing them finally be together its WSERDTFGYUH if i die and im not holding this under my crossed arms then im not dying fr

thank u for the ask!!

[that-birdy-chick]

Part 2 of me rambling about s8 of hawaii five 0

Live commentary

ep 6

- did-did Danny really just organize an intervention for Steve? To make him take better care of himself?? I don't know how to feel about this

- Lou really just said "Steve listen to your husband, he loves you" spoken like a true married man

- kinda gotta agree with Dog, not your finest move Danny

- so can we all agree that Danny losing his mind a little over Steve's radiation poisoning is kinda like the whole Steve losing his mind over Danny retiring thing but in reverse?

- I think Steve has never looked more stressed than with this stress counseler person asking him about his sexlife right in front of danny

- awwww now the end of this episode is in my top 3 favorite heart to hearts these two dorks have ever had

- Danny being honest about being scared that Steve isn't taking his radiation poisoning seriously to the point it keeps him awake at night and steve replying that he's scared too but that he doesn't want Danny to change because he loves him the way he is and that he does take things seriously URHGH

THE GROWTH! The genuinely healthy communication! I'm so proud of them 🥹

ep 7

- no no no what is going on between adam and kono? My breakup senses are tingling and I don't like it

- I swear the way Adam and Steve's conversation in the car went is so "let's talk about our respective marriages" coded

Like honestly it's so blatantly obvious - they are literally paralleling mcdanno to kono and adam ffs

- hey and come on adam you too? Why does everyone need to shit on the restaurant thing

- haha Steve is mad people he cares about just walk into a dangerous situation without backup - I love how this season confronts Steve with his own behavior

-hmm l don't know how to feel about Lou literally deleting evidence to protect tani, really most of their shady "police work" really didn't age well

- damn Steve killed a cop, that's definitely gonna fuck with him

- love how Lou is looking out for everyone, he just is the team grandpa

- sooo adam is gonna join five 0 right? This is what all this is about isn't it?

- I swear I am trying to care about junior and tani and what's going on with them but Idk so far I haven't really warmed up to them

ep 8

- eyyy Danny is back and calls Steve babe within 1 min into the episode? This can only be a good one

- nvm I swear to God Steve if you crash land yet another plane-

Seriously dude? Haven't you learned your lesson from the last time?

- naww Danny is so proud of Steves character development, sure hope he isn't gonna do something dumb and risky and ruin it again

- okay so tani and junior huh? They're definitely gonna be a thing soon aren't they

- the dude was killed because he was hiding from a drug cartel that he snitched on and fled with the drug lords daughter, I swear all these people always have the most dramatic backstories

- aaaand steve is doing the dumb reckless thing, Danny my guy I feel you're pain, he is so done with his shit he doesn't even yell at him anymore

- Danny is such a fucking saint, Steve almost went and got himself killed AGAIN and all he cares about is being last and danny husband of the fucking year just goes "yeah yeah you did well let's get a beer maverick"

- okay tani and her brother are kinda cute in their peek sibling behavior, I feel bad now for calling her a kono replacement, girl is much more than that

ep 9

- damn love Jerry's new haircut

- I will never get tiered of Danny and steve bickering about the restaurant, I know they are setting it up to fail but I genuinely think this could have been a good thing to eventually end the show on, like a retirement thing, but oh well

- aww I love Danny trying to comfort neolani with something Steve told him, only to have it backfire and make him anxious again

- pfffff and tani and junior sit in the far back like literal children

- oh great we're doing the biological warfare stuff again, this should be fun

- so they only have 8 hours to live? sounds like a prime love confession set up to me

- love our respective couples comforting each other, have to say tani and junior are doing a way better job tho like seriously Steve "try not to die while I take this call okay?" that's the best you can do, seriously?

- and of course Danny's all time stress response is to bitch about or at Steve, stellar coping skills all around

- omg danny did not just say-and steve didn't - OMG is it actually-

-nvm of course it's a fake out, damn it after 7 season why do I still keep falling for this shit

-the little restaurant talk Danny started to distract Steve and himself with was pretty sweet tho

- hey, wait why is Danny the only one definitely close to death? The others all seem relatively fine

- and of course Steve has to go and needlessly risk himself, so junior has to safe both their ass's instead of him just doing it on his own in the first place

- excuse me people why are there not more fanfics about the crew stuck in quarantine together?? this shit is hilarious and has so much potential for angst!

Please if anyone has some great fic recommendations send them my way please!

-no come on Danny, Steve didn't wanna upset you! That's honestly a pretty mature thing given the situation you were in, and now their arguing

- poor tani and junior they be stuck with these two idiots for a long time

- I could really see tani, just snapping at them after two days to either kill each other or fuck it out already, because their whole shebang is just exhausting for everyone

ep 10

-AHHHHH they finally opened the restaurant!? Progress!

- why does the screen look weird? Please don't let this be a dream type thing

- "Right now grandma Williams is smiling down at you" awww Steve, that is so sweet🥹

- nooo it's a dream thing 😭

- love how everyone makes fun of Steves near mental breakdown haircut, really dude it looks terrible, why does no one stop him?

- wow you really gonna give em kids the judgemental stares for flirting? Steve Danny as if you're any better

- and of course they're getting jumped in freaking quarantine

- really the dude went through all that trouble, just to kill Danny? And didn't even try aiming for the head? amateur

- aww Danny imagining grace wedding, my heart <3

- Danny is hurt, Steve is freaking loosing it, I'm so here for this

- Lou really said "sir, you better have a plan soon because if you don't Steve will come up with one, and only God can help us if that happens" I love you so much Lou

- huh so Danny thinks Charlie will be a cop? That's interesting

- awww and of course Steve is there, sitting next to him like a good husband, and the rest of the ohana

- nooo Danny being there for kono and adams first kid, that is so wholesome 😭

- Steve is straight up having a terrible time, while Danny has some idealistic feverdream about the future, this is so fun

- excuse me Steve you fingering your husband does absolutely not make you even for the liver thing, you nut

- so there gonna blow up a bomb right next to another bomb? Sure that seems reasonable

- yes Lou! Get the sledge hammer!

- poor Eric, don't worry hun we still have 2 seasons left to go Danny will be fine

- no NO you cannot- you did not just show me that while Danny's dying the last thing he hallucinates about is having grown old with Steve 🥺

- "and if I could do it all over again I wouldn't change a thing" I'm done, this is it, that line just killed me 😭❤️

- excuse me, Danny is dying and you people are choosing NOW to tease Steve about his stupid haircut? Seriously??!

- yes everyone copes differently I guess, but when Steve's life was on the line no one was joking around is all I'm saying

- yes Danny Steve saved your life by fingering you, deal with it XD poor Eric is scarred for life

- love Danny genuinely getting some love for once, this was a good episode

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

So I love your stuff and ofc take your time. Im really sorry to inconvenience you with this request but I'm just very stressed.

I recently moved into a new house with my family and we have been slowly moving things in for months. Apparently the landlord left the door unlocked after he came in to make some final repairs and someone broke in and stole some stuff. Nothing huge, some tools, a toaster oven, drill bits. We didn't think they stole anything else and my family didn't see a reason to make a report till I started looking for one of my boxes I moved previously and it was gone. It had all my cross country stuff in it and I know it's not important to anyone else but CC is my LIFE. I've been running for almost 5 years So all my medals, plaques, times, banners, numbers, memorabilia from courses are gone. And I don't know what anyone would want with any of it. None of it was worth any kind of money but all of it means so much to me emotionally. I SUCKED my first year and it took so much effort to EARN everything. I'm scared they are gonna start melting down my metals or try to pawn them. I know it sounds vain and maybe it is but I was so proud of everything I've accomplished in cross country. I had a mental break down for about 30 mins to an hour and idk what to do. CC helped motivate me to recover from my Annorexia and one of those metals I won right after I got out of the hospital. Im 4'10 (I am a senior in highschool) Im already at a disadvantage considering my legs are half the size of everyone else's. I had to work so hard to be where I am now and all my reward for my work it's just gone because someone was bored? Wanted to make some extra cash?

Do you think If/when you have time you could write MHA comforting someone who's going through this? Maybe Shoji or Amajiki? Or whoever you want and think would fit. Im sorry again I know it's vain to want all of it back but it just meant so much to me.

Shoji & Amajiki with a friend who lost their CC stuff

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Shoji

Shoji, noticing your distress, approaches quietly, acknowledging the pain without pressing for words.

With his calm demeanor, he approaches the friend, his extra limbs extending to offer a gentle, reassuring touch.

He speaks gently, "I heard what happened. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. Take your time, but if you want to talk, I'm here."

Shoji respects your initial silence, patiently waiting for you to open up when you're ready.

He remarks, "Your achievements in cross country are a part of who you are. Losing them is like losing a piece of yourself, I bet but you still have the memories."

Shoji invites the friend to a quiet spot in the school, away from prying eyes, where they can share their feelings without judgment. "Sometimes, finding solace in silence can be more comforting than words."

Shoji suggests, "Let's work on a plan together. We'll search for your items and, if needed, involve our friends for more support. Even if the physical items are gone, your achievements and the strength you gained through cross country remain."

Amajiki

Amajiki cautiously approaches, "I heard about what happened. It's okay if you don't want to talk, but I'm here for you."

Amajiki silently sits with you, understanding that words may not be enough to express the depth of your pain.

He softly says, "Your achievements are not just medals. They're a reflection of your strength and resilience. No one can take that away."

Amajiki's gentle demeanor encourages the distressed friend to open up slowly, sharing the pain and memories associated with the lost stuff.

Amajiki softly suggests involving the authorities, realizing the emotional value of the stolen items. "I think it's important to let the authorities know. They might be able to help recover your belongings, and it's okay to ask for help."

Amajiki spends quiet moments with the distressed friend, acknowledging that sometimes, silent companionship speaks louder than words.

[1eoness]

Could you make a Dom!Leon x trans ftm reader NSFW fic with some fluff thrown into there?

୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ author rambling; HI i am eating pineapple rn and i never forgot this request. just to clarify and for some context, i dont have experience of writing !reader anything out of sub afab so im sorry if this is super inaccurate or inapplicable or unsatisfying and im open to criticism on this :( :) idk im so sorry aghdfhdsfhdj i really need to work on this. oh and i read some ftm smut for this so ty to those writers :> pls criticize anything off (with reason ofc). [btw i feel like this is super bad im sorry im not feeling creative rn i have writers block :((( ]

anyway 'DOM!LEON KENNEDY X TRANS FTM READER NSFW WITH SOME FLUFF THROWN IN THERE' COMING UP. i'm sorry this took so long for such short content too :(

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

cw: fluffy dom!leon kennedy, trans ftm!reader (w/ bottom surgery) [i can always redo this if you don't like me mentioning top/bottom surgery]. praise, oral (reader receiving)

synopsis : re4r leon and he loves u and ur worried little face and he's gonna kiss it better (and fuck it better, maybe).

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon loves you. he knows you're constantly worried over him being troubled over his trauma but he wants you to know, between every crevice of his clouded thoughts, that he loves you and it's the surest thing he knows. it's hard to admit but even when he loses himself, it will always, and forever be clear to him that you have his heart and there's a reason why.

you were about to get under the covers to go to sleep (after a day that felt longer than it should be.). though, you lowered your headphones to the lower end of the volume once you saw leon through the bedroom doorway.

"baby, i wanna tell you something." leon said, his quiet and soft voice only going a decibel higher as he crawls to you on your bed. he hated seeing you about to sleep with such a worried look on your handsome face.

you thought he didn't notice? even if you're his neutral-faced boy, he knows when the air around you feels more somber than usual. "do you ever feel.."

"like a plastic bag?" you quipped quickly. (i'm sorry if you don't get it)

"no, damn it." leon's mutter-reply followed with a quiet chuckle that you echoed. he likes that about you, your incessant annoying humor (but you'll never beat him in that). he sighs, and tries again. "you know, like... you're kind of.. stressed over someone else's troubles?"

to be honest, he doesn't really know how to go about it. he doesn't want you to think you're burdening him—though, you could never ever make him feel like that. leon nears you, hovering above you and adoring your face wherever his mind runs. for some reason, before you guys go to sleep he just does this. he also likes talking to you before you both go to sleep ♡.

you hum, just a little bit sleepy. "what do you meann?" you ask quaintly, and leon's heart melts at the tone of your slightly languid voice. you sounded so cute. a rather random yet soft laugh escapes before he dips down to give you a small kiss on your cheek.

"...y/n, i'll just be straight—i don't want you going to bed looking so.. upset." leon mutters softly, rubbing over the skin of your cheekbone with his thumb. maybe he shouldn't have gone into detail how heavy his mission felt. because when he was done talking, you gave him some short comfort and impulsively stood up and said that you needed to wash the dishes (and the dishwasher was literally running when you said that).

at first he thought he did something wrong and upset you, and the guilt immediately seeped in. naturally, he didn't want it to go undiscussed, that would murder him! so he went to find you ASAP. but when he went to check on you in that dim kitchen, he saw you with your back turned and trying to silence your tears. apparently, you felt so bad for him it was enough to hurt you, too. you were just too sweet—leon also felt bad. he gave you some space for a bit, though he's sorry because he really wants to be there for you and he can't afford to leave you by yourself sometimes :(

you looked a little to the side from his forward words. you didn't really know what to say in response, you were just.. tired, and also worried. leon understands this, picking up on it and showing it by giving you a reassuring, subtle smile. he wants to see you smiling, too, and he knows just how to do it. it's his favorite thing about his little boy ♡.

"..come, baby." he coos quietly as he began to take a hold on either sides of your face, knowing you don't need discussion right now. maybe loving is enough. and loving you is a way of reassuring himself, you just need to accept that :( so you be good for him and let him give you the praise you deserve (and so much more).

he kisses you on the forehead first. he loves cradling your handsome little face, placing safe pecks all over it. especially on that spot a little adjacent from under your eyes. leon hums when his lips reach your jaw, peppering it with innocent love. but will it really only go that far? "because you're the most perfect boy ever." he reasons hushedly, his left hand holding the side of your neck and caressing it gently.

oh, it's going to be one of those nights where he kisses you all over and doesn't leave you alone.. but you know better than to complain.

"y're so clingy..." you decided to joke, though you both knew you loved it. while you giggled at his antics, you can feel him smiling into the skin of your neck. he's so ready to spoil you rotten.. and you had no idea:( ♡

he moves his broad hands under your shirt, handling your being with tutelage. the fuss of the sheets make hush noise as he moves downwards, worshipping your body along the way by placing kisses over your clothed stomach. "...so?" he laughs softly against the skin of your lower inner thigh, the fluttery feeling of his lips planting a kiss on it making you shudder. he sees you, and how you turn so bashful all of a sudden.

"..tickles?" leon mumbles amusedly.

"yeah-" you mutter in response before he abruptly did it again on your stomach this time, which made you giggle. you were just too precious to him!

he holds your thighs in his hands for a minute, resting his head against your left thigh. you see the muscles on his arm flex subtly while he does so, your stomach tumbling at witnessing his strength at such a mild moment. for a minute he just gazes at you fondly, a hinting coyness hiding beneath his expression.

you were making it so tough for him. he just wants to kiss you all over . hell, he might even want to merge corporealities with you.

he doesn't speak, his eyes trailing down to your pelvic area while unnoticeably smirking to himself. you were so cute to him, so what else can he do but lift your thighs over his broad shoulders?

but he looks up at you, immediately. his fingertips are teasing at the hem of your bottom clothing, insinuating what he wants to do for you as he lightly taps at your skin. "baby, may i?" he asks with a sudden comforting tone. he'll never make you do something you don't wanna do. but like said, if you accepted, there's no promise that he's going soft on you.. but that's because he just wants you to be all nice and happy! a very innocent motive ♡

"mhm.." you hummed lowly, willingly giving him your greenlight. and has leon said he loves you?

"thank you, love.." he mutters shortly in reply before pulling your pajama bottoms just a little down. down enough for him to free your pretty shaft. he sees you blushing, covering the bottom half of your face with your sleepy hands.

and this man.. was so hard to predict!

the soft hunk of a man wants to wrap his right arm around your abdomen, pull your hips up to his face. "leon!-" you gasp abruptly with that same low voice.

"shhh, baby." leon mumbled while his left hand snaked around to cage your right thigh firmly to his shoulder. his knees dip on the comforters, pulling his boy's lower body up like he was challenged to lift a feather.

you quickly brought your hands up to take your headphones off, but leon suddenly spoke when you pried the muffs off your ears.

"keep them on." he cuts your actions off. the subtle demand of his tone says you're going to keep them on. he, somehow, reaches to turn the volume up on your headphones. you were puzzled, not knowing what he was aiming to do with such-

"a-aah!-" you yelped in utter surprise. a dribble of spit threads from his pretty lips and down onto your length..

he's hunched over as he takes your tip, then more in his mouth. he glances at your dumbfounded eyes, and you swear you could see him smirking to himself. but before you could think further, he was suddenly suckling onto your cock so firmly you started to squirm.

but that's why leon's holding you so tightly, so you can take it the way he needs you to~

you felt restricted. leon wants to steal your senses, inject pleasure in your veins like he were trying to fucking save you. he's beginning to get so hard that it makes him whine against your shaft, and he's so hard that you're making it difficult for him to think rationally.

"l-leonn! slow down!~" you cried without sense, which only urged his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you in place. he takes an inch further, his mouth working eagerly, making sure you can understand his carnal urge of making you cum with his mouth. "uh-uhh!-.... nghhh-hh..."

"mhmm..mmmm..." he hummed roughly, following with a soft growl as he slurped you up stupid. you kept moving. why were you moving so much? you were so sleepy just a minute ago.. oh, well; leon thinks. but is this man really oblivious to the fact that he can make you feel so, so good?

of course he wasn't. your erotic whines got louder and louder by the minute as your headphones disabled you from being conscious of your tone at all. your voice fell muffled upon your ears but leon was devouring it, using your moans and sobs as a motive to eat you up until you're heart-eyed. you couldn't even make sense of the music anymore as leon's mouth clouded your empty mind.

i'm gonna drown you in pleasure, baby.. leon thinks to himself while he's busy adoring you and the way your cock twitches onto his tongue :(

you were flailing slightly while leon went down on you, seeing you and your eyes struggling to keep open. he trails his left hand up and down your thigh, the sensation feeling a little ticklish. your chest rose and fell warmly, trying to reach out to stop him with a weak hand but he wouldn't let you and he feels (mildly) sorry. but it doesn't make him halt— he looks at you with sweet eyes that say 'please cum for me~'

you whined weakly at this, voice going raspy as you full on started to cry. you felt so vulnerable and so good at the same time and you trusted leon so much. you could feel it, could feel him about to siphon your orgasm out of you. just the way he wanted it..

the faucet began to spill and you were crying, the tears trickling down your cheeks messily and around your headphones, too. leon looked at you with mostly with affection, but also with a bit of sympathy. you must've had such a hard time, huh? he's so happy he can make you feel better..

"u-uhh, f-fuck, leon!! n-nno- nggh..a-ahh!-" you didn't even know what you were blabbering or retorting for anymore, but your hips twitched in his grip as you began to tremble within the fuzzy feeling of your orgasm. you were being such a pretty boy for him like this, all sensitive and crying after one minor blowjob. how were you going to handle the rest of the night like this?

it was hard to ignore his boner at this point. "mm..mhh, fuck- such a good boy f'me, huh?" he groans while he sucks on you at a slower pace, trying not to overwhelm you too hard (but still overwhelming you :( he's sorry, he swears.). "god, you're so cute.. but you have him so horny and frustrated now, what did you just do to this boy? he isn't frustrated at you.. but..

he isn't letting go of your thighs any time soon.

[egg-emperor]

As fun and cathartic it can be to be a hater about parts of official media you don't like at times, like a few of the noncanon adaptions in mine and few other's cases, I feel like some people are kinda starting to lose sight of what it means to be a Sonic fan in the process. I know I probably don't sound much different from concern trolls but I am kinda concerned tbh because it can't be a nice feeling and experience for them and I think they'd be happier if they were just aware

Because it's almost like they're kinda making being a fan only this miserable and frustrating thing that consists of constantly being angry and bitter towards the things they don't like and losing sight of the things they do. To the point all their discussion mostly consists of complaining about what they don't like and feeling this sense of doom about the series as a whole. And spending more time entertaining angry people and trolls that want a reaction and love to get more things out of you to bitch about and if you continue to feed them directly, they especially definitely won't let up, since they also do it when you aren't talking to them

It's never your fault in the first place for having an opinion and expressing it freely and someone coming along and being an asshole about it but it doesn't help if you are directly engaging with them on top of that. Speaking from experience as I've faced TONS of long winding harassment, it stops once I stop replying and never reply again when they keep trying. It's not even that you can't ever say anything at all, it's just knowing when to leave it at that and walk away. You can say what you want once and decide you're not going to give them any more time after

And Idk, if your most consistent feelings about the series are overwhelmingly negative these days and you don't have feel that passion for discussion of it unless it's in complaining about what you don't like, or you mostly can't find things you do still like about pretty much any area of the series, I wonder if it's worth it to still be a fan any more or at least exist in the fandom as one in any capacity. Simply speaking from what I'd do in that situation rather than trying to demand it of others, but I can't fathom wanting to still make only negative posts and arguing and getting mountains of hate, thus only increasing your bitterness and stress. And even ending up fighting with or resenting people you befriended or were aquainted with when they like something you don't too

And I hate to say it but at a certain point, is it really much different from those we once criticized for hating every game out of bias and what they've been told by others instead of playing the games they were hating on? And how they can't praise what they do like more than they can put down what they don't like when they say an adaption is better than canon thing that apparently sucks so bad? Have I stopped experiencing any new joy from this series to the point maybe it's time to withdraw from both the things I like and don't like about it and not give it my energy anymore? This is what I would ask myself to come to the decision on whether it's worth it anymore. But I don't feel that way because my love and passion for the series prevails and is still actively fueled

I'm not saying you aren't entitled to your feelings and opinions and trying to force you to feel and think a certain way. Of course I love to analyze and relay facts about the games and I'm very happy if it does give someone a new perspective and it's always nice to find more people who agree and relate and that unity but I'm not trying to force it. It's moreso a matter of whether your hatred and bitterness is consuming you and stealing your focus and energy over talking about the things you do like. Perhaps there isn't anything left you still like at that point but if there isn't, it's best to just step back from what you don't like too for true piece of mind rather than still getting worked up about what you don't like if you hardly ever have those times of gushing passionately anymore and the spark is gone

And I'm all for people criticizing and ranting about what they don't like, I've had more than my fair share. I did cut back on it significantly in public spaces because it genuinely benefitted me and my mental health and made my blog more positive and enjoyable for people which is my preferred experience. But I know people who have plenty to still criticize and want about publicly and haven't cut down at all like me but still have tons of passion and positive feelings to talk about just as much. That way you can tell that the former comes from a place of passion too, because they still actively love the series. So I don't feel sad or concerned seeing their complaints, it makes sense

But when it comes to hardly liking anything about the series source at all anymore after once doing so and putting most time and energy into ranting, complaining, arguing, and feeding trolls, it kind of just seems like it only comes from a place of hatred and bitterness and being consumed by it rather than passion as it seems to be the only thing that actively fuels them still. Not to say it didn't start with that for them too but like they've sort of lost sight along the way and it is kinda sad to see because I want them to be happy. Not out of forcing them to like the series but knowing when it's maybe time to step back

And maybe this will come off the wrong way so I want to clarify again that I'm not trying to tell people what to say and do on their own blogs or how to think or feel but these are my genuine thoughts and feelings as a spectator but you certainly don't have to bend to my will. Of course I can curate my experience to block out what I don't want to see and I do, but there many times it still shows up on my dash from people I unfollowed and sometimes you get so many filtered posts on your dash you click a little to see what's going on yknow

Anyway that's all I wanted to say on this and have been wanting to for a while but I was very wary of how it might be taken the wrong way but I feel I need to take that risk more often because I know my true intentions in it and how it really does only come from a place of concern and care

[aria-malfoy]

Harry Potter in my DR

Harry and I were very close, as he lived with us and spend all day together. Together with Draco, we were best friends. We had a very nice friendship, which slowly evolved...

Really protective with me, as he was afraid of losing me.

Always put me first even knowing I'm stronger than him.

He always stood up for me even if it meant getting into trouble.

He had such a strong personality and character.

Messing with me was like declaring war on him.

Not the possesive jealous type, but the insecure one.

He is the definition of warmth and feeling safe.

His perfume is soft but still masculine.

His hair smells like soap, like bubbles, clean, idk.

He eats all kinds of food and doesn't complain.

Homework gets him stressed but would finish it just to be in peace.

Would give me princess treatment.

Actions >>> words.

When I get tired of walking, he would carry me without letting me ask.

Since I usually take a while to get ready, he would do my hair while I put on my makeup. He would also arrange my clothes, minor details, so I wouldn't have to worry about it.

Because of my species, I can't get sick. When it was cold, I'm inevitably sensitive to temperature, and he insisted on giving me his hoodie. I was worried about him and that he might get sick, so I didn't agree. That was the end of the matter until a few minutes later I felt his hoodie in my arm. "Put it on" he said.

Liked to buy me random things as he didn't know what to do with his money, just to make me happy.

Idk if this is cute or stupid (as I can't die), but he would risk his life to protect mine.

I bought some bracelets with our initials and he always wears his.

His cellphone's wallpaper is a picture of me petting Hedwig. I must admit it's a cute candid.

Listening >>> talking

He always carried some extra clothes for me. If mines get dirty or if I don't like it... idk why, actuallym but it's been useful.

When we go out, he carries a bag with him that contains makeup for me to touch up, a brush, a mirror, hand cream, antibacterial gel, wet wipes, a notebook, etc. I am a little anxious when I go out and he knows it.

I'm a vampire with insomnia, what can I say. Even if I don't need to, I love sleeping, it's stressfull when I can't. So, he reads me stories even if he's sleepy.

His Instagram looks like some kinda fanpage of me.

He tends to take notes very quickly. They end up looking like a new language that only he understands.

Tends to compete friendly with Draco in EVERYTHING.

At Hogwarts, he had this habit of having a letter for me everyday. Ngl, I loved seeing Hedwig flying to my common room's window.

"Sometimes I think you love more Hedwig than me." he always said.

He would ask for kisses all the time, in private.

In public, he liked to hold my hand.

[swaglet]

mouthwashing. certified yapping is happening below the cut

u know what bothers me. there's a sizeable (i'm not sure how large or small but more than one of them exists) portion of the fandom that's like... "well anya IS a nurse so she shouldn't have made jimmy give curly the painkillers... she should have just done her job...." YOU PEOPLE ARE NOT SEEING THE ARTISTIC VISION!!!!!!! IT HAPPENS FOR A REASON!!!!!!

1. she is NOT a medical professional. if jimmy was being truthful when he said anya was denied from medical school programs 8 times, and it wasn't just part of him being an unreliable narrator and showing how he looks down on her like something below a cognizant human being, she is not trained to do this. apparently she was given basic nursing classes provided by Pony Express, which i imagine is something similar to becoming CPR-trained in health class when you're a junior or senior in high school.

imagine you're just a random woman with a bachelor's degree in something like medical biology or premed or whatever your school teaches, you've never had hands-on training with actual patients and only have the bare minimum information that will give you what you need to start medical school, and then the captain of your ship has all of his skin burnt off and loses his appendages like hands and feet and he can't talk or do anything on his own and you're barely managing to keep him alive with just bandages and painkillers. i think if i saw the melted, charred body of my captain and friend helpless on a table in front of me everyday for months i would be kind of sick. i think i would puke when i looked at him for the first time. keeping him alive would probably make me want to kill myself, even if he did wrong me and ignore me when i tried to tell him about being raped, even if i wanted him to suffer i would still probably get nauseous looking at him.

2. SHE IS PREGNANT. nausea is like THE symptom of early pregnancy. pregnant women can be so nauseous that they throw up from brushing their teeth or chewing food or even just touching their tongue or smelling/seeing something mildly unpleasant. imagine you are about to throw up at any moment, you are either skeptical or definitively sure that you are pregnant (which is already stressful enough), and then you have to PRY OPEN THE JAW OF A BURN VICTIM WITH NO SKIN (IMAGINE HOW SQUISHY AND BLOODY HE FEELS AND HOW BAD HE MUST SMELL) AND FORCE A PILL DOWN HIS THROAT MULTIPLE TIMES PER DAY. and then he GAGS every time you do it. idk about you guys, but if i even hear somebody gagging or dry heaving, my body responds by making me gag and feel nauseous. if i watch somebody choke on food or puke (or gag to the point of almost puking) i probably am going to puke too. NOW IMAGINE BEING PREGNANT AND PREGNANT-NAUSEOUS ON TOP OF HAVING TO DO THAT !!!!!!!!!!!! anya has every right to get nauseous and puke all over the floor and all over curly and all over everyone else and all over the entire ship!!!!!! but they all agreed to keep curly alive "for one reason or another" and she's probably very aware that puking on or near her patient who is SKINLESS is a guaranteed way to give him an infection that will kill him. even in her agony she is thinking of him more than she is thinking of herself but nobody wants to think about that. of course jimmy wouldn't think about that and he's manipulative so he can get the rest of the crew to believe whatever he wants them to believe about anya

3. IT! IS! A! METAPHOR!!!!!!!!!!!! IT IS A STORYTELLING DEVICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anya was raped by jimmy. probably multiple times. anya goes to curly to tell him about jimmy raping and assaulting her. curly presumably tells anya that he will keep an eye on it and goes about his business like nothing happened. anya has probably told curly that she was afraid of jimmy before he even tried anything but curly didn't listen. when anya tells curly that she is pregnant and it is a result of being raped by jimmy, curly says he has known jimmy for a long time and "will talk to him". curly does nothing to protect anya or assure her that she will be safe from jimmy. curly does not tell anyone else on the ship what jimmy is doing. curly has robbed anya of her voice, and jimmy has robbed anya of her autonomy and safety.

when curly is rendered completely helpless by the crash, anya is entrusted with the duty of taking care of him, which means that his autonomy and his safety are completely in her control as the ship's designated nurse. he is robbed of his voice by the explosion as well; jimmy caused the crash intentionally, so indirectly, jimmy robbed curly of his voice, autonomy, and safety. just like what was done to anya.

anya is traumatized by having her autonomy and safety ripped away from her by jimmy. she is sickened by the thought of forcing someone to do something they don't want to do because it reminds her too much of what jimmy did to her. she knows that curly has no voice, just like she had no voice, and she cannot bear knowing that he can't say what he wants and doesn't want. without the ability to use his voice, everything done to curly is done without his consent. they have no idea what he does and does not want. all he can do is scream and thrash.

curly's inaction and repeated dismissal of anya is a big factor that played into why jimmy crashed the ship. if curly had done something and just listened to anya when she told him that she was afraid of jimmy, that she wanted a safe place away from him, none of this would have ever happened. this is curly's 'divine punishment' (for lack of a better word) for being complicit in her rape and not allowing her to have a voice. his denial of her voice stripped her of everything and left her in jimmy's hands.

anya giving up the responsibility of caring for curly is, first and foremost, one of the only ways she can take control of anything in her life and on the ship after she had all control stripped from her. they all agreed to keep curly alive, so if she doesn't do it, someone else will have to. she gets to decide what happens to somebody indirectly, regardless of how it makes her feel, and it's a way to gain her own control of something. and for that, for control of her own decisions, she trades control of curly. control of his autonomy, his safety, and his voice. and now curly is at the mercy of the man who took it all away from anya. he is forced to lay motionless and experience what anya was experiencing as he ignored her pleas. jimmy violently forces pills down his throat. he beats him. he berates him. the only reason jimmy doesn't rape curly's burned and charred body is because jimmy sees him as human, as a friend (regardless of how jealous or hateful he is towards him) instead of as an object or a vessel, and curly has to sit there and think about that fact. do you think he's grateful that he isn't pregnant, that he can't get pregnant? that all he has to worry about is himself and his own body being beaten and abused by jimmy? that he can only be stripped of his autonomy from someone on the outside, while anya had to live with the fact that it wasn't just jimmy ripping her of her autonomy but now the new living thing he put inside of her against her will? she can try to run and hide from jimmy but she can't run from what's inside of her. for that, curly can't run from jimmy at all

^_^

[mikachacha]

𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: You and Bada are roommates and there were moments that felt like you could be something more. Honestly, it's just a waiting game between you two now. To see who gives in and confess first.

Warning: Idk, maybe the explicit lyrics of the song or something 😭

Also, this is my first fic because I couldn't think of anything else other than my gayness for Bada whenever I hear this song 😫 Forgive me for some errors because English is not my first language ❤

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮

Bada came home after a stressful day and heard 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝙼𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 by Doja Cat playing from the speakers and the sound of the vacuum being used. She couldn't help but smile as she entered the living room quietly and found you cleaning while singing and even dancing around to the music playing. She couldn't help but watch you as you moved around, seemingly lost in your own little world.

"Can you kiss me more? We're so young 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, we ain't got nothing to lose oh, oh.." you sang and Bada raised her eyebrow as she noticed that you changed the lyrics from boy to girl. It could only mean one thing, right? Or she's just assuming things because truth be told, Bada likes you but is too scared to admit it because she's scared that you might not like her back.

"I see you're enjoying yourself, Y/N." she finally spoke and you swore you jumped 20 feet to the air after realizing that Bada was there and has seen all the atrocities that you were doing while cleaning. You got home earlier from your modeling gig and decided to clean around, was even planning on making dinner for you and Bada. In hopes that maybe she gets a hint that you're in love with her or something and you guys could work something out before you go insane.

"Jesus! Can you not do that? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" you said while rubbing your chest a bit, trying to calm your racing heart and she only laughs, shaking her head in amusement. You paused the song and finished vacuuming before sitting down on the couch which prompted her to sit as well.

You dramatically raised your arms up for a hug before just planting your face on her lap. Her hand began playing with your hair and the both of you sat there, enjoying the silence and each other.

"Y/N, I've been meaning to tell you something. You can call me delulu or whatever but when you changed the lyrics from boy to girl earlier, it kind of hinted that maybe you're attracted to girls.." Bada broke the silence and you listened, cheeks burning. You didn't mean to do that. Well you did mean that but you did not mean to let Bada hear that. But maybe it did something good for your part because you're finally having this talk with her.

"Y-yeah.. I'm.. actually attracted to girls but not just any girl. I'm actually attracted to someone specific." you told her and sat upright so you can look at her. Her face held anticipation and fear at the same time which you found cute.

"Yeah? Can you tell me who that someone is and I tell you this someone I actually like for a long time? Just to be fair since you've been asking about it a lot." Bada asked. Her heart is pounding against her chest. She wants to know the person that you like and not at the same time. What if she's just delusional thinking that she's the one that you like but you actually like someone else? She doesn't know how to live with that if that ever happens.

"It's you.. Bada, it's you." you finally confessed and she lets out a sigh of relief before hugging you close to her chest, thanking everyone and everything that she can think of for this wonderful moment that she's living in. She can finally tell team BeBe that she's not delusional and you do really like her back.

"You have no idea how happy I am right now.. I like you— wait, I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, ever since the first time you made me some food when I got sick." she says and you smiled, remembering that time. She was so sick after a practice and you just came home from work. She's just a sad and sick burrito roll on the couch and couldn't move a lot due to fatigue. You nursed her back to full health which was like two days and got sick right after but you didn't regret it.

"If that's the case.. Can you kiss me more? We're so young, girl. We've got nothing to lose oh, oh.." you sang teasingly and she chuckled before cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips gently, just savoring the moment and the taste of your lips against hers.

[lilac-hecox]

Lilac I love you, you are so cool and important to this fandom and I love what you do

But would you chill the fuck out?

Like in a silly goofy joking way.

I get you like Ianthony and you’re scared. No one is allowed to police each others feelings. But like. Girl. Ur making me stressed. I love Ianthony. And the idea that we might barely see them is quite frankly crushing. But I’m doing my best to not be upset about it considering this is what they’ve wanted for years. They were delayed by defy and Anthony leaving. But this has very much always been the goal. I love them. I love their dynamic and their sketches. We cannot deny YouTubers the right to retire like every other profession just because their faces are the brand. They have done an incredibly smart and responsible thing programming the channels the way they have so that they can slip into the background more and more this past year. It hurts. Of course it does. They raised me more than my piece of shit parents ever did. They are partially the reason I am still alive today.

But they deserve their freedom, and the fans need to breathe and not be so clingy.

I’m also in the game theory fandom and have been watching Matpat for around as long as Smosh and he again did a very similar thing slowly passing over his channels and hosting duties. And his fandom reacted very differently than the Smosh fandom. And it’s making the transition harder for everyone involved I fear.

Again have all the feelings you want about it, but I feel like when you and others are anxiety spiraling about the dudes on YouTube you need to step back and take a bit of a breath. Because now I’m anxiety spiraling. Which yea my own thing to deal with. But I just. Post on your own. But when I’m not expecting it and I go into the reblogs on someone else’s post and ur in the notes reminding me that Ian and Anthony are pulling back because you’re busy moping it feels kinda catty?

All this too say everyone’s feelings are so valid and understandable but we have to actually work through them instead of panicking. Please.

If you're talking about what I just reblogged I messaged the op and told them I wasn't trying to attack their post.

I'm aware I'm having anxiety about it. Bro, I wish I could chill the fuck out about this but I'm having a really hard time.

I was talking to a couple friends and explained that Smosh and Ian and Anthony are a happy place for me so I'm scared to lose that and I get that it is mentally not healthy for me to think that way.

I'm trying to not even engage so I don't act like a brat and whiny but I know that I am being that way.

I'm sorry. My mental health is in the toilet and I just don't feel good and this is all making me feel way worse.

Have fun and love Bit City and be happy about it. I don't want people to feel bad or feel like they can't enjoy it. They absolutely can.

Idk I'm confused on your ask you tell me my feelings are valid but then tell me I'm being catty?

I don't mean to be mean or catty. I'm sorry if I've come off that way. I don't like to see a ton of posts saying "Well Angela and Chanse rightfully deserve to take the main channel from Ian and Anthony."

I put a little timer to only give myself a couple of hours on tumblr on my phone a day before it blocks it but maybe I should block it all together to find peace before I don't have any friends in smoshblr left.

[bloggingboutburgers]

Today you answered a lot of questions, so if you want this to just sit in your inbox it's okay

Not tryna burden you or anything, just wanted to wish you a good day, and tell you that I admire you and how confident you are with your identity. It's truly heartwarming for me from my little confused bicurious/bisexual demisexual genderfluid place (Ik, it's a lot), because I get confused and sometimes awkward when I doubt on whether what I am or what I'm not. Mostly because it discourages me a bit when I'm talking about my identity and the same friend jumps in and says "but weren't you *this* a few months ago?". She's very insensitive most of the time and questions me about my choices because she thinks I strictly have to have 'had a crush' on someone to be sure. Idk man, I just realized just now that when I was a kid I found Elsa from Frozen prettier than I did with other characters, shut up. I just know, but after being fed with that if I found them attractive (or rather, sexually appealing) then I had a crush on someone, realizing if I liked someone or not was a huge fucking struggle.

Whatever, I'm just ranting by now. Just wanted to thank you because thanks to you I felt like someone understood my situation because I had been wondering why I never had liked someone my whole life. Then I realized, I can, it's just that it takes a bit more than just finding them appealing to the eye for me. You gave me a safe space, where I could laugh and relate (or not, it depends on the context but I still nod and chuckle) to being ace.

Also, I could be asking on my main but I feel embarrassed to say this since we're mutuals and you probably know who I am, but I'm still shy :P

Have a good night :D

IIIIII have totally let this sit in my asks for quite a while because the stress of the visa process got to me... TwT Sorry it took me so long to respond! (...Tbh I haven't guessed who you are either TwT I'm so sorry, I hope that isn't too hurtful, I'm kinda stupid in that way...)

I feel you though. I'm lucky I myself have such a strong and stubborn sense of self that I can still be like "no I AM this because I know and naysayers can f off" even in times where there's ground for doubt, because it IS genuinely so hard to figure oneself out. First off, people impose on you, from your very childhood, the common denominator that everyone's heterosexual and heteroromantic. Next, and even stronger than that, people impose on you that everyone feels sexual and romantic attraction, and that if anyone likes anything at all, if any person interacts positively with any other at all, if any character shares screentime with any other at all, then it must mean they're romantically/sexually attracted, because that's all it ever can mean. No wonder it's a struggle!

It's an honestly unfair situation to always have to be surrounded by "yeah but"s from people who don't experience your experience yet somehow think they know better. It makes it so that sometimes, all you have to trust is your gut, and that's a tough pill to swallow in a world that tends to erase or disvalue your experience, and in a society where it's encouraged not to be too self-centered and seek other opinions for guidance, for valid reasons. But it's sometimes so tough to find support, that trusting oneself really IS what one needs.

Either way... I consider myself really fortunate in that sense, but I know it's definitely a tough one, and I sincerely wish you the best T^T I'm really glad if I can help, even a little! And please don't let external forces make you lose too much confidence in yourself, as honestly hard as it is at times TwT You're all good as you are and you have every right to be who you are! It sounds so obvious put that way but... Yeah TwT