#(this is what i get for listening to pretty by ag on loop)

[undefeatablesin]

Have a collection of extremely self indulgent scribbles ft. Good Hunter Lady Ruza and her beloved Arianna lol 💙

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

revolution 0

boy genius (the record) masterlist | masterlist

stepmother!wanda x fem!reader

if it isn't love, then what the fuck is it?

18+: stepcest, age gap, jealous and possessive wanda, smut; dubcon, oral to a strap, brief use of a gag, strap use (r!receiving), face riding, oral, mommy kink, choking, degradation, praise | word count: 1.7k

“Are you going somewhere?” Wanda spoke from your doorway, making you jump slightly at her sudden appearance and you glanced back at her through the mirror where you were getting ready. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, Natasha’s taking me out,” you answered, the sight of her tightening grasp on the doorframe obstructed from your view. 

“On a date?”

“Yeah. Well, we’re going for drinks, so,” you shrugged, turning round to face her and her relenting stare. Her eyes looked at you darkly, glinting with a jealousy you couldn’t place. She’d not yet had to witness someone attempting to take claim of what was hers but she wasn’t enjoying it. 

She hummed a response, turning on her heel for a quick getaway before you could say anything else and you watched after her, missing the angered mumbles beneath her breath.

She occupied herself as best she could, bearing little mind to the sharp actions she carried out, letting doors swing closed heavily behind her and crockery clatter as she piled it high in kitchen cupboards. Her face was hot with a jealous fury she couldn’t shake, a pit swarming in her stomach with each step she took back upstairs to your room. 

She didn’t bother to knock, smirking darkly at your small flinch at the door hitting into the wall. You looked so pretty, her little angel all dolled up and ready for your suitor. She’d do anything to keep the sight all to herself. 

“Come here,” she muttered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, beckoning you over with a manicured finger. 

“Wanda, I don’t have time for-”

“I said come over here.” 

There was no room left for argument and you couldn’t deny the spark that always lights at the husk of her commanding voice. You hate how pliable you become at just a darkened look from your stepmother, how she knew she could mold you like a pliable toy, pulling you towards her until you were right in front of her. 

But despite each and every sensible part of you that tries to resist her, you’re always lulled in by her dug-in claws. 

You didn’t resist when she pulled you onto her lap, ignoring the smirk against your lips - she knew she could get you to do whatever she wanted. When she kissed you, you knew it’d smudge the lip gloss you’d applied but it was pushed into the depths of your mind in favour of the all-consuming hold she had on your waist, pulling you closer until your knees were planted on either side of her. 

Wanda’s tongue pushed against yours and her teeth pulled at your bottom lip; you shuddered beneath her touch when her hands crept beneath your skirt, inching higher until they met the material of your underwear. 

“Wanda stop - I can’t,” you breathed against her, finally becoming aware of the spell she had you under, the one you’d tried to escape since the day it started. You knew it was wrong and you so hoped to find something real, something with true feelings and a romantic love you ached for. “I have to go.”

She didn’t listen to your protests though, nudging your underwear down your legs with her free arm looped tightly around you to keep you close. Before you knew it, they were torn from your body and balled in her fist while she looked at you possessively, lips twitching into a smile at the sound of knuckles tapping against the front door. 

“On your knees. Now,” she spoke, pushing you away from her without a second glance at you when you reluctantly took your place. 

“Wanda, I need to-”

“You don’t need to do anything apart from wait for mommy to get back.”

“Nat’s here, let me go to her.” 

“Why? So you can go and act like a little slut?”

“So I can try and find someone to fall in love with - to have a relationship with.”

“I love you,” she uttered, sweet words dripping with a malice and accompanied with a sour look. 

“This isn’t love, Wanda.”

“Then what the fuck is it?” 

She halted any words you tried to muster with your underwear being harshly pushed past your lips and you wished you’d been able to hide the whimper at the back of your throat because, of course, she huffed a laugh knowing you were wrapped around her little finger. 

You stayed where she left you, on your knees and silent; you listened to her retreating footsteps and the excuse of you coming down with an illness to the woman at the door.

She made you wait, taking her time before she sauntered back into the room with a prominent bulge in her jeans you knew wasn’t there before. 

You didn’t speak any words you knew she didn’t want to hear when she pulled the material from your mouth and accepted the cock she swiped across your lips instead. You slackened your jaw at the rough hold she took of your hair, accepting her strap she fucked into your mouth peering down at you dominantly whilst it hit the back of your throat. 

She watched pleasurably as your eyes began to water at her harsh actions, digging her nails into your scalp to pull you into her, bobbing your head to cover her cock with your spit. 

“You’re just a filthy whore, aren’t you?” she murmured. “So fucking desperate for your mommy’s cock.” 

You could only nod with any space in your mind taken up completely by her. If there’s one thing the older woman’s good at, it’s turning your mind into a haze of her and only her. 

She reveled in the sight of her strap when she pulled it away, shining with your saliva, lips wet and begging to be taken by her again. She didn’t let you catch your breath before she pushed her own lips into yours and guided you backward until your head was on your pillows and her body was atop yours. 

Her hold on you was addictive. You held onto her hips, silently begging for the intrusion of the cock that teasingly hit against your cunt with each subtle move she made. 

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to beg for it, honey,” she murmured, sitting up onto her knees as she looked down at your smudged makeup. In a deceiving act of gentleness, she cupped your jaw with a stroke of your thumb over your cheek, trailing downwards to take ahold of your neck with a squeeze, her nails leaving impressions in the skin. 

“Please, mommy,” you choked out, peering up with desperate eyes. 

“Apologise,” she stated through clenched teeth. “Tell me you’re sorry for being a slut just because mommy wasn’t giving you enough attention.”

“I’m sorry, Wanda. I’m sorry, please, I need you,” each word was tinted with a desperate plea. “I only want you.”

You admired the smile of success she sported at your confession, rewarding you with the head of her dick stretching you out as she pushed into your soaked cunt. She filled your hole slowly, listening to the way you sighed at each inch she buried into you, watching herself disappear into you with your skirt pushed up to your hips. 

She let you get used to the feeling, allowing you to pull her shirt over her head as she removed yours. Undressing one another until bare chests were flush together whilst she kissed you with heated fervour, beginning a steady pace with the rutting of her hips. Despite the kiss that showed affection, her thrusts reached deep within you, harsh and rough with the sound of skin hitting skin. 

Each stroke of her hips pulled sounds from you that she adored, a pleasure coursing through both of you. Her lips trailed over your neck with bites of her teeth sinking into the flesh, leaving marks scattered behind which she’ll be sure to admire until they fade. You grabbed at Wanda’s back to keep her close, legs wrapped around her waist to pull her into you. 

None of her actions were soft, not the way her teeth pulled at your nipple nor the grip she had on your throat. With each entrancing feeling she lay upon your body, the pleasure within you built, and the thumb she rubbed over your clit pulled you to the precipice of the edge. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Show me I’m the only one who could ever make you feel this good.”

Her voice was rasped and deep and her chest leaned into the touch of your hands to her breasts, the toying of her nipples between your finger and thumb. The world was just a blur when it came to Wanda, she had a talent for making you forget everything else during the throes of pleasure. 

You came with incoherent moans of her name, soaking the cock that rode you through your high with pushes into your pussy, arching your torso into the musing scraping of her nails as she watched you catch your breath. 

You only watched her with heavy breaths falling past your parted lips as she put her strap aside and climbed her way up your body, her eyes glancing down at you through her lashes. 

“Put that mouth to use,” she smirked. “You’ve got mommy all worked up.”

Your arms wrapped around her thighs as she lowered herself onto your face. You instantly licked through her folds to hear the moan she let out above you, humming at the taste of her arousal-coated cunt. 

She fucked herself onto your lips as they sucked at her aching clit, your tongue lapping through her slit with all the desperation to obey what she wanted - you needed to make her feel as good as she makes you feel. She fixed her eyes on yours and the sight only made you work harder; the way her lip was caught between her teeth and her hand that wasn’t tightly holding onto the headboard squeezed her breast, flicking her thumb over a hardened nipple. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re doin’ so good,” she breathed, punctuated with broken moans. Her skin was hot and flushed pink with her arousal and her body moved to chase her orgasm. You swallowed down each drop of her as you could when she came onto your tongue while her thighs trapped your head between them. 

When she pulled away she eyed the way your chin shone with her juices, the way your tongue darted out to clean your lips. 

“I hope you know I’m not done with you,” she uttered, taking a firm grip of your jaw. “And don’t even think about going on any dates ever again.”

[inthe-dark-tonight]

what she wants, anywhere

frankie morales x f!reader

summary: trying to hide the fact that you're horny from frankie while on an international flight leads to unexpectedly joining the mile high club

word count: 4.4k

warnings: E (18+ mdni!!!) dubcon, smut, porn w very little plot, pet names, established relationship, unsafe p in v, airplane sex, slight breeding kink (special just for cami hehe) creampie, reader uses frankie's hand to try and get off, no mention of age gap so read how you’d like :)

notes: this idea has been in my head for a few months but I never really knew how i wanted to write it, then an unreleased harry styles song came on shuffle (complicated freak - iykyk) and that just kinda fed the brainrot even more and…. now here we are. i'm also very aware that this is pretty unrealistic but it's fic so!! also let's pretend that airplane bathrooms aren't super gross i'm sorry. thank you to the loml @javiscigarette for always beta reading and listening to my insane rambling, i don’t know what i would do without you and our single shared braincell ILYSM xo

i also hit a new follower milestone this past week so i just want to say an extra big thank you to everyone that reads, likes, comments, reblogs or follows 🤍 enjoy!! :)

You and Frankie have had this trip planned for almost 6 months now, the two of you needing a vacation from work and day to day life. Now the only thing standing between the two of you and a week long vacation in Italy is an eight and a half hour flight. 

From the second you got to the airport you were on edge, worried about your bags, your tickets, your passports, if you had forgotten anything in your carry on, up until you got to security when you finally calmed down. When you got up to the belt, Frankie grabbed a few plastic bins throwing both of your carry ons into one as you removed your jacket and shoes. As you stuffed everything into your bin, you glanced over at him, watching him intently as he started to take his jacket off. 

You watched the way his biceps flexed as he slipped his jacket off of his broad shoulders and tossed it into the bin. Next he removed his hat, running his calloused fingers through his tousled curls, pushing them back before preparing to remove his belt. At that point you were noticeably gawking at him, watching the way his thick fingers unfastened his belt buckle before rapidly pulling it out the belt loops of his jeans and tossing it into the bin as well.

He looked over at you, giving you a quick once over before asking, “That everything?”

You weren’t able to conjure up any words, just a quick mhm and a nod of your head as you two moved forward. When he stepped into the metal detector, your eyes were glued to him the whole time. As he lifted his hands above his head, his shirt lifted the slightest bit, causing a small sliver of his soft tummy to peek out. A warmth started to build deep in your core from that moment forward. 

Once the two of you were through security, he slipped his belt back on followed by his jacket. You swiped his hat before he could grab it, quickly stuffing it into your carry on. 

He laughed, head tilting to the side as the dimple on his cheek deepened. “C’mon” he shot you a look. “Give it.” He held his large hand out towards you. 

“We’re inside now, don’t need it.” You smiled at him sweetly, a warmth blooming in your chest as his eyes met yours. 

He grunted, grabbing your bags with a small smile still plastered on his face before turning to walk towards your gate. Your eyes are glued to him as you walk, keeping a few steps behind him. 

By the time you finally sit down at your gate, the heat in your lower stomach has grown even more and Frankie is painfully unaware of the way you’re watching him, desire growing each second. The terminal was crowded and there weren’t many seats, so you sat across from him a bit upset at the distance while also enjoying the view of your man.

You sit across from him with a book in your hand, legs crossed as you peeked up over the top of your book every now and then to admire him. He was leaning back in the chair, one arm on the armrest and the other casually resting between his legs, right where you want him most. His legs were spread wide, hair perfectly tousled, one leg bouncing from nerves and brows furrowed as he focused on something on his phone. How could you possibly not stare? 

He caught you once, eyes lingering on him a little too long, causing heat to rise from for chest up to your cheeks. Your eyes roamed up his body, checking him out, before locking with his own as he shifted in his seat. 

Hm? He raised his brows, a smirk growing on his face. 

You quickly shook your head, looking back down at your book as a shy smile formed on your face. 

Boarding the plane went by quickly. You stood close to him as you waited for your group to be called and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The comforting feeling of his warm body pressed against yours worked you up even more, if that was even possible, and Frankie held your hand the whole time during take off.  

Now you're seated on the plane, his thigh resting against yours, fighting the urge to keep your hands off of him and satisfy the throbbing need in your core. He’s surely noticed the way you’ve been squirming in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs a million times and the not so subtle staring. 

You turn on the screen in front of you, switching to the live map and checking the time on the screen. It’s only been 45 minutes, this is going to be impossible. You clear your throat and let out a deep sigh as you look out the window at the dark sky, only a small peek of blue light shining over the horizon now. 

“What’s wrong?” Frankie’s soft voice in your ear startles you slightly as you turn to see him leaning in close to you. “You nervous?” He moves his hand to rest on your thigh. 

You swallow before answering. “No.” You blurt out causing him to raise his brow in curiosity. “I mean, it’s not that.” Your eyes land on his lips after the last word leaves your mouth. 

“Then what is it?” He rubs your thigh lightly and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

He sounds concerned, but there’s no way you’re telling him that you’re horny with 7 hours left of this flight. All you can do is hope that as the time passes  the ache in your core dulls, or better yet goes away. 

“Just-“ you try to think of an excuse on the spot. “Excited actually.” You smile up at him and he returns it, the dimple on his cheek growing. 

“We’ll be there soon baby, the flight will be over before you know it.” He lifts his hand from your thigh and rests it on your cheek, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb before pecking your lips. 

You nod in agreement, closing your eyes as you toss your head back and lean into your seat. If he only knew.

You’ve been looking out the window for who knows how long, the lights in the cabin are low, almost completely off now, and the flight attendants haven’t walked up the aisles in almost half an hour. You look at the time on your phone again, only two hours in, how is that possible? The ache in your core hasn’t subsided.  

You look over at Frankie watching a movie on the screen in front of him, Top Gun, before reaching for your carry-on bag under the seat in front of you. You grab the sweater you stuffed into it and throw it across your lap. 

“Cold?” Frankie’s voice is soft yet gravely as he leans in close to you, whispering for just the two of you to hear. 

You look at him, eyes slightly widening. “Yeah.” You aren’t lying, the cabin is chilly, but that’s only half of the truth. 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in your features in the low light. You scoot closer to him, leaning into his side as you get comfortable. Frankie smiles and plants a kiss on your temple before turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. You lay your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his bicep as you watch the movie with him. 

It’s not long before you’re distracted again, letting go of your grip on his arm and laying back in your seat. Your eyes linger on the way his pants hug his thighs. He’s not wearing his jacket anymore, the way he’s sitting with his arms crossed give you a  full view of his strong forearms and biceps.

You’re not sure how much longer you can ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. You decide to test something and reach your right hand over to rub the side of his thigh, resting there for a moment. He doesn’t move, eyes still on the screen, and you take that as a sign to keep going. You slowly inch closer towards where his cock is confined in his pants, resting your hand on the inside of his thigh and keeping it there for a few moments. He doesn’t react, but you hear his breathing picking up. 

As you start to rub small circles on the inside of his thigh and inch ever so slightly closer to where his member is hidden, he grabs your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. 

His large hand is still wrapped around your wrist as you lean in, resting your chin on his shoulder as you look up at him. “Nothing.” That’s a lie, and he knows it.

“Querida...” His eyes burn through you as he stares back at you. He knows. 

You clear your throat and tilt your head up to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been worked up since we went through security.”  

“Hm.” He nods his head, the deep vibration causes goosebumps to raise on your skin.

You pull back and he looks into your eyes again. His hand finds yours on your lap, warm as it wraps around yours and squeezes lightly. 

“Once we land and get to the hotel, promise.” He raises his hand to rest on your cheek and plants a feather light kiss on your lips. 

You let out a small sigh as his hand moves from yours to rest on his lap and you turn to look out the window, trying to distract yourself from the pool of heat that burns in the pit of your stomach.

You’re not sure how much time has passed now, when you look over at Frankie his eyes are shut, mouth slightly parted as you admire his features. A small smile forms in your face as your eyes roam over him, landing on his hand still resting on his lap. 

At that exact moment, an idea comes to your mind. Something that could possibly give you a small amount of relief. For now. It’s not your best idea, but it could work. 

You look back up at his face as you reach over to rest your hand over his, he doesn’t open his eyes. You stay still for a moment, making sure you won’t wake him from the movement. When you think the time is right, you lift his hand, quickly resting it on your lap. Your eyes land on where his hand now lays over your sweater on your lap, so close to the dull thrumming at your core. You bite your lip and look back over to be sure he hasn’t woken up, you smile at the way his soft lashes rest on the tops of his cheeks as he rests, a warmth spreading through your chest. 

You keep your eyes on him as you slowly move his hand underneath where your sweater lays to rest on your inner thigh. His warm hand burns straight through the fabric of your pants, causing your skin to heat up from the touch, and your stomach to churn. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, so you take that as a safe sign to keep going, slowly moving his hand up your thigh until it rests over your clothed heat. 

A low whimper escapes your throat and your eyes widen at the realization, looking back over at where Frankie lays with his eyes shut. You watch him take a deep breath, letting out a sigh as he shifts slightly in his seat, head rolling slightly to the side as he stirs. You stay still for a few seconds, making sure he hasn’t woken from your movements. 

You look away from him, back to where his hand is touching you under your sweater, and you begin to press the heel of his hand into your clothed cunt. You let out a long, relieved breath from your nose and your eyes fall shut. The pressure of his large warm hand resting over your sensitive nub is just enough to give you some of the relief you were looking for, but it’s not enough. 

You take a deep breath before grinding yourself against the palm of his hand in a slow rocking motion that causes the seam of your pants to rub over your clit. Trying your best to be quiet, you bite into your cheek as your hips buck forward. A low groan escapes your throat and you let out a shaky breath. 

You're lost in the moment, relishing in the feeling of his large, warm hand resting over your clothed sex as you grind into it. Suddenly you feel him move and your heart leaps into your throat. His arm tenses up, hand grabbing at your clothed cunt as he applies more pressure than before. Your eyes fly open wide and you turn to look into his own. Heavy lidded as a small smirk forms on his face in the dim lighting, he leans in closer to you. 

“Bathroom at the back of the plane. I’ll be there in five.” He says slowly, just above a whisper. 

You blink, mouth agape as his words sink in. “W-what?” You watch the way his chest rapidly rises and falls as you wait for his response. 

“Now.” He presses harder into your clothed core before pulling his hand away.

You let out a gasp, reaching for your seat buckle as fast as you can before standing up. As you squeeze past him and make your way into the aisle, you take a quick glance around to look for the flight attendants. They're nowhere to be found, and as you walk towards the back of the plane you notice that almost everyone on the plane is asleep, has their nose in a book or eyes glued to something on the screen in front of them. You try not to walk too quickly as you make your way towards the back of the plane where the vacancy sign is glowing brightly. 

Your heart is racing and you feel giddy as you approach the door, pulling it open and stepping inside before closing it behind you. As you wait in the small stall for Frankie, you stand there for a moment with your back against the door, eyes falling shut as you take a deep breath in anticipation for what may happen next. Then you hear a light knocking on the door, causing you to flinch as you reach to pull the door open. 

Without giving you a second to think, Frankie pushes the door open causing you to step back, closing the door behind him and locking it before guiding you towards the sink. It's a tight fit with the two of you in there but right now you could care less. He presses close to you, causing your lower back to press into the small plastic sink as his hand flies down to grab you where you're wet and aching for him, the other grabbing your wrist. 

He leans in, nose grazing your cheek before speaking low in your ear. “This what you wanted?” His voice sends a shock straight to your core as he applies more pressure where he's caressing your clothed core, causing a moan to slip from your mouth.

“Frankie,” you say breathlessly. 

“Shhh.” his hand leaves your wrist to lightly cover your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me baby, don’t want anyone to catch us committing a fucking felony now do we?” A small smirk covers his lips and your chest flutters with excitement at his words.

You look up at him with wide eyes and shake your head, then he removes his hand from your mouth and plants a needy kiss to your lips. Your eyes close and you melt into it, hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue parts your lips to tangle with your own. You press against him, slightly bucking your hips to feel the growing bulge in his pants. He groans before breaking the kiss, pulling away to catch his breath as his eyes roam over you. His large hands grab at your waist as he looks back into your eyes.

“Turn around.” you do as he says, turning your back to him and pressing your hips flush against the tiny sink while your hands grab onto the edge bracing yourself. 

Frankie’s large hands land back on your hips, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans to rest on your ass for a moment, squeezing lightly before moving back to your hips. he presses his hardening cock into your ass and lets out a low grunt as your eyes flutter shut, your head falling forward as you sigh.

His hands leave your hips and you hear the sound of his belt buckle. “Gotta make this quick.”  his voice is low and gruff, you lift your head to look at him through the mirror in front of you.

You watch him as he looks down between the two of you to unbutton his own jeans, stray curls falling onto his forehead. His muscles flex, the fabric of his shirt stretching as he pulls his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring out. His head snaps back up, dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror. His hands snake around to the front of you, reaching for the button on your pants, his thick fingers moving quickly to undo it before pulling at your zipper. 

His eyes never leave yours as he tugs your pants down just enough to expose the soft skin of your ass along with your soaked heat. Your mouth falls open as his hand moves towards your core and you stifle a moan as his fingers start to glide through your slick folds, his other hand resting back on your hip.

“Been thinking about me filling you up this whole time, huh?” You take in a deep breath, pressing your lips together as you try to hold in a moan. “Thinking about me filling you to the fucking brim with my cum?” 

You frantically nod your head, unable to form a single word. Frankie watches you through the mirror as your head falls back onto his shoulder and you press yourself back into him. A small gasp leaves your mouth as you feel his stiff cock press against your bare ass. He starts to rub small, slow circles on your clit and you raise your head to look at him through the mirror again. Your eyes immediately meet with his having never left you, and you watch him as he leans in closer to you.

“Wish there was time for me to taste this perfect pussy.” His nose grazes the side of your cheek, his low voice vibrating through your whole body. 

You bite your lip trying to keep quiet, squeezing your eyes shut as he applies more pressure to your swollen clit. You also wish there was time. He plants a kiss on your neck, scruff slightly scratching you as his warm lips press against your skin. It’s like he read your mind.

“Once we get to the hotel, I promise.” He lightly squeezes your hip, pulling his other hand away from your sensitive nub causing you to hold your breath. “Bend over for me baby.” 

You do as he says, bracing yourself on the sink once again as you slightly lean forward. One of his hands stays on your hip, the other lines his cock up with your soaking wet entrance. Your eyes are still glued to him in the mirror, your beautiful man. He’s focused as you watch him, and when you feel his tip slowly start to press in, you watch the way his face relaxes. You close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of him slowly filling you to the brim.  

“Fuck.” You watch as his head falls back, a blissful look on his face. “Feel so good cariño.” 

He stays still for a moment, taking in the feeling of your wet cunt pulsing around him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been in here, but you know that the two of you should hurry up before someone notices what’s going on. You wiggle your ass back and forth against Frankie to try and get his attention as you bite your bottom lip while looking up at him through the mirror. 

He lifts his head up, dark eyes meeting with yours. A deep almost growl comes from deep in his chest as he pulls out and slams his cock back into you. Your body jolts forward, mouth falling open as you brace yourself for his brutal pace. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you bringing you so close to the release you’ve been waiting for. 

You watch him in the mirror, transfixed on the way his biceps strain the fabric of his shirt as he holds onto your waist for dear life. The feeling of his cock splitting you open so perfect. He leans down and wraps an arm around your torso, pulling you to stand straight up with your back against him as he continues to fuck you at the same brutal pace. 

His hand roams over your body and his eyes follow, finding the hem of your shirt as he slips his large hand beneath it. You press further back into him, a sigh leaving your mouth at the feeling of his warm skin against yours. 

“Francisco…” You murmur. 

His hand continues to travel up your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail up towards your breasts. You suck in a breath as his hand finds the cup of your bra, slipping underneath to caress the soft skin of your breast. He’s still staring at you in the mirror, tracing over your soft skin and curves with his eyes as he moves his hand to lift your shirt up to your chin. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers right beside your ear. “Look at you.” 

You’re just looking at him, the way his large hand is splayed over your chest, the light flush on his cheeks from being cramped in this stuffy bathroom, and the way his hair has fallen over his forehead. The coil in your stomach is ready to snap, any second now as he slows down his thrusts. He can feel it, the way your walls flutter around his thick cock. His hand slides back down your chest, stopping to rest on your stomach as he holds you against him.

“Come for me, come on baby.” His deep voice travels straight through you to your core. 

“Oh my-” Frankie’s hand flys up to cover your mouth before you can finish. 

“Shhh, quiet.” The vibration of his deep voice whispering in your ear sends you over the edge and a white hot feeling spreads through your body, radiating from your core as your orgasm takes over. 

“There you go.” He whispers, nose grazing your cheek as he speaks. 

Your hand reaches behind you to pull at the curls on the nape of his neck and you squeeze around him as your orgasm comes to an end. He lets out a deep moan as he buries his face into your neck, muffling the sound. He thrust one last time, stopping when he bottoms out, hot cum spurting out and filling you up. His shoulders rise and fall as he catches his breath, head still buried in your shoulder and your head lays back on his. Both of his arms are wrapped around your torso and you rest yours over his, squeezing his forearms lightly as he stays there for a moment longer, making sure all of his seed stays put. 

He kisses your neck before lifting his head up and looking between the two of you as he pulls out, pulling your underwear back on quickly to make sure his come stays put. His hands rest on your hips as you fix your shirt. You slide your pants back on and spin around to face him as he buttons his pants, watching the way his fingers move. A smile forms on your face as you watch him, a warmth growing in your chest. 

“Hm?” He looks up at you through his lashes as he fixes his belt.

You shake your head, reaching to rest your hands on his shoulders as you kiss him. He sucks in a deep breath, making a content sound as he kisses you back and wraps his arms tightly around you. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes roam your features before speaking. 

“We should go back.” One of his hands comes up to caress your cheek and he pecks your lips one last time. 

“You go first.” You lean into his touch, squeezing his broad shoulders. 

His thumb rubs your cheek before pulling away and turning to pull the door open. He slips out, quietly closing the door behind him. Once he’s gone you turn towards the mirror to fix yourself up and wash your hands before going back to your seat. You replay what just happened in your mind as you wait a few minutes to leave. 

Once you think it’s safe to leave, you slip back out into the dark cabin. You glance around, still no flight attendants in sight as you make your way back to the aisle where Frankie is sitting and waiting for you. A smirk forms on his face as you squeeze in front of him to take your seat at the window. You get comfortable, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand finds a spot on your lap and you close your eyes. As you start to drift off you feel Frankie shift in his seat. 

“Don’t think I forgot about my promise either.” He whispers for just you to hear. 

Your chest flutters, a quiet laugh leaves your mouth before you drift to sleep. Only 5 more hours, you’re almost sure you can wait this time.

thank you for reading <3 any feedback is appreciated and my asks are open!! xo

tagging a few moots: @ilovepedro @gracieheartsspedro @sapphic-gardn @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pr0ximamidnight @daydreamingmiller @hearteyesforjoel <3

[ice-puppy8032]

How To Cope When Your CG is Gone

my cg is very extroverted and likes to go out a lot (im mostly making this for myself hehe). if youre a little who suffers from separation anxiety like i do, or you just have a hard time being alone, i hope this helps ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

age regress- just the act of age regressing can help a lot, or conversely, choosing not to age regress if being big helps you through it better

talk- now is a good time to reach out to other people in your life. if everyone else is busy too, talk to your stuffies!! theyre really great listeners :3

set a timer for 5 minutes- this helps if youre panicking. use five minutes to identify what you feel, and where youre feeling it. then let it happen. set another timer for 5 minutes to try to work out some sort of solution. once the 5 minutes are up, you have to get up and go do something

scream, cry, throw a tantrum- sometimes you gotta. just be safe with it!! and dont make your cg feel guilty for not being with you, that isnt healthy

write it out- journalling about your current fears or even just about your day can help loads. try to physically write it in a notebook if you can.

color!! :3- color a pretty picture for your cg while theyre gone!! theyll really appreciate it and think its sweet ^w^ coloring is also a very calming activity and can be time consuming

weighted blanket- i dont personally use one but i know that they’re really good for anxiety

these are just a couple tips :3c sometimes these come in handy, sometimes what helps will be something completely different (ive been stuck in mario kart loops before). remember to always treat yourself (and your cg ofc) the best that you can!!

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱ა

[etherealising]

chapter fourteen | your love is not too kind

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you begin your hunt for a special surprise, while cortez and syd gang up on you. also an adventure between you and carmy ensues where you both receive advice from two very nosy old ladies, out of love of course. (honestly just a fun incoherent day with our two losers).

warning(s): angst | addiction | substance abuse | recovery | hopelessness | minimal editing | ooc carmy |

wc: 7.6k (thass a lot of filler)

The harsh cold of the Chicago air sporadically whipped across your face, the wind cut into the small patches of skin that weren’t covered by the scarf you chose to wear. You occupied yourself with the loose bits of concrete surrounding the sidewalk, kicking a few rocks around with the toe of your boot, one hand tucked tightly into your pocket while the other began feeling numb as you held your phone up to your ear.

Your eyes found Cortez’s figure inside the small cafe the two of you decided to meet up at, a smile tugging on your lips as you watched him converse with the person behind the counter while he waited for your orders.

The voice of the event planner on the other line continued droning on about what was expected of you at the gala tonight as if they hadn’t spoken to you in the months leading up to the gala or profusely sent you emails with an itinerary. You wished there was some way for you to get out of the whole ordeal, a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have minded but now you were resigned to spending your night with Hayden and a bunch of other mediocre middle-aged men who would pay you compliments for everything besides the journalistic work you pride yourself on.

You let out a small sigh followed by a noncommittal hum as you listened to the line go silent for the final time, stuffing the phone into your jacket pocket just in time to gratefully receive the to-go cup of hot cocoa Cortez patiently held out to you.

A nod of appreciation was sent his way as the two of you began your walk to the restaurant, your brows furrowed at the neatly wrapped box in his hand that wasn’t occupied with his cup of tea, “You buy the whole bakery or something?” You nodded towards what you assumed was a pastry box when he looked over in your direction.

A small smirk pulled at his lips “Nah, after ya little story about that sad ass baby shower you threw for Natalie, thought I could bring her some pastries ya know since I ain’t get no invite or nothin’.” You rolled your eyes slightly shoving your elbow into his side as you laughed him off.

“Aren’t we like not supposed to have a personal relationship outside of this sponsor sponsee situation?” A slight smile tugged at your lips as you listened to Cortez’s scoff.

“The way yo ass use me like a personal diary we might as well be fuckin’ friends.” Cortez turned his head away from you hoping it was enough to hide the small uptick of his lips, but it did next to nothing as you caught a quick glimpse of it.

You opened your mouth to respond, apologizing lightly to the stranger you almost ran into while your eyes were on Cortez. The man let out a huff of annoyance before carefully balancing his cup of the pastry box and then looping his free arm through yours.

“Bad enough I gotta listen to yo dramatic ass life stories, now I gotta be yo guide dog too?” Regardless of the quiet laugh he let out to signify he was joking, you weren’t sure how you put up with constantly being roasted by the man whenever you were in his presence.

You took another sip of your hot cocoa appreciating the way it warmed you from the inside out, a thought coming to you as you fixed your hold on the cup. “You seemed to know that barista at the cafe pretty well.” It was hard to keep the curiosity out of your tone, hoping if you avoided his stare he wouldn’t clock that you were trying to pry into his personal life.

Cortez let out a chuckle shaking his head at your antics, finding it amusing that you wouldn’t just outright ask him whatever questions you had considering all the times he’d intently listened and advised any dilemmas you went through. “Damn girl, you hella nosy!”

It was hard to hold back the laughter that began to bubble in you at those words, Cortez’s innate sassy nature was something you would always appreciate about him. “Nah I’m playin’,” the almost shy smile on his face cut off his words, and the reaction surprised you. “But uh, I been frequentin’ that cafe for a bit. They uh asked for my number last time I was there, we been talkin’ and shit.” He shrugged it off like he didn’t just tell you the most exciting news you’d heard all week.

Although his complexion didn’t allow for a blush to spread across his cheeks, you could tell he was flustered just by the way he was trying to hide his smile. “Talkin’ and shit hmm,” your imitation of him drew a frown from the man. “Is that all the two of you are doing?”

Cortez chuckled at the teasing undertone in your voice, “Ion really think that’s ya business ma.”

A quiet scoff left you at Cortez’s answer of course he would give you a morsel of his personal life, only to take it away when you got too curious. You didn’t mind though his life wasn’t really any of your business but you sure as hell liked to bug him about it like it was.

“What about you, still cut up over homeboy who stay playin’ with you?” If you spent any more alone time with this man you were sure your eyes would permanently get stuck in the back of your head from all the rolling they did.

“You don’t have to say it like that and actually ‘ion really think that’s ya business bro’.” The laughter from the two of you came immediately at how ridiculous you sounded when trying to mimic Cortez’s vernacular. The strange look from those gathered around you as you waited to cross the street did little to appease your good humor.

The two of you continued the rest of your journey in mostly silence unless one of the two of you made a quip here and there. You weren’t sure what compelled Cortez to tag along with you to the restaurant especially since you’d spoken in length about how you were doing with your sobriety back at the cafe, if anything you were sure Cortez’s nosiness was catching up to him and he wanted to put a face to all the myriad of names you mentioned. But you’d pretend his excuse about seeing Natalie was legitimate.

You stopped in front of the restaurant, the windows covered and not allowing anyone on the outside to see in. You looked back at Cortez for a moment, eyes narrowing as you watched a smug smirk grow on his lips, “What’s that look for?”

His smirk widened as he leaned around you opening the door, “Nothin’ ma just excited to meet that loser you stay fuckin’ cryin’ over.”

You scoffed turning to enter the restaurant, only to be stopped by the sound of Nat’s voice coming from behind the two of you causing you to turn in your tracks with a smile on your face as she approached both of you. Pleasantries were exchanged as the three of you headed inside, your eyes landing on exactly the person you were looking for as you excused yourself from the conversation.

As you made your way further into the restaurant, you realized what was so different about it. It was weird the more you looked around, you realized just how much things had changed thus far. In reality, the only major change you could pinpoint was the lack of walls, but it was also more than that to you, it was no longer the restaurant you once used to come to on the weekends when you and Carm were kids. While most of the foundation was the same there would be no more looking at a particular spot and being sucked into a memory from all those years ago. It was refreshing, to say the least, but it also felt like the last tangible piece of Mikey was being torn down bit by bit, piece by piece.

Nat’s laugh broke you from your reverie, your eyes finding her still locked in conversation with Cortez, whatever stress you’d seen on her face outside had calmed a bit as she spoke with the man. You turned moving to the man you were here to speak to, eyebrows furrowing as you watched Syd look at dishes on the table.

“Fak, hey mind if I cut in?” You waited for his response watching as his eyes darted between you and the man he was speaking with, the latter sending you a welcoming smile as he held his hand out to introduce himself.

The panicked look on Fak’s face as he fought the urge to step away and speak with you made it clear whatever he was doing with Tim was important, so you decided he could be privy to the conversation.

“If I let you in on a super secret mission, you have to promise me Carmy doesn’t find out.” You looked down at Fak in his seated position, the rapid nod of his head enough to let you know your words caught his attention.

You looked around the restaurant just to make sure Carmy hadn’t made a surprise appearance before turning and taking the nearest chair to sit in, leaning forward and beckoning Fak with you, Tim watching from his place next to Fak somehow just as intrigued.

“Okay, I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened to Mikey’s jean jacket, you know the one with that cool blanket lining?” You watched as realization flashed across Fak’s face.

His hands flew to his mouth as he tried to hide his excited laugh, the noise drawing not only Syd’s attention but Nat and Cortez’s as well before they returned to what previously held their attention. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shushed him hoping it wouldn’t draw anyone else’s attention.

“You’re trying to find the jacket for Carmy!” Your eyes widened at how loud he said Carmy’s name, regretting your decision to do this at the restaurant. “So is this like a lover’s gift because you know I’m Carmy’s best friend,” he paused, wincing as he looked at you. “No offense Baby, but you’d be like the coolest fucking girlfriend ever if you found that jacket for Carm.”

While Fak’s excitement made you feel hopeful that getting the jacket would be easier than you once thought, you needed to nip this idea of you and Carmy being an item in the bud before Fak got too carried away, no matter how much the idea warmed you inside.

“Uh…no, no Fak were just friends, but if I’m going to relieve you of best friend duties- thanks for stepping in for the past 10 years by the way,” you gave him a small wink. “I need your help to find that jacket, please.” The puppy dog eyes weren’t necessary but you needed to assure his help.

Fak kept quiet as he looked at you, both of you easily ignored Tim as he sat watching the stare-off between the two of you intently, waiting for one of you to crack. It was immediate the way Fak deflated into himself the excitement still there as he began telling you the information he knew.

You politely nodded along as Fak went off on various tangents, paying extra attention as he recounted Carm being beaten up by someone in a carrot costume, wanting to keep that in the back of your mind just in case you needed it. A few more attentive nods and quiet “mhms” left you before Fak finally gave you something you could work with.

“Chi-Chi? And you’re sure he has the jacket?” You were surprised, to say the least, but after listening to Fak explain how tough things got at The Beef, you understood the need for quick cash. Your mind tried to remember how you overlooked the state of the restaurant when helping out Richie last year.

“Thanks, Fak I really appreciate the help, don’t let Carm find out though please?” You raised your eyebrows hoping he realized how serious you were, your eyes dropping to his extended pinky before letting out a quiet laugh and connecting your pinky’s in a pinky promise.

You gave Fak one last smile in thanks before apologizing to Tim for interrupting their riveting conversation about music and returning the chair to the table you stole it from. As you looked up you caught Syd’s knowing smile out of the corner of your eye, the seat next to her occupied by none other than Cortez, a smile of his own lining his lips.

“Don’t you two just look cozy.” Your voice was sarcastic as you looked between the two of them, sure they heard the whole conversation and even more sure that Cortez provided Syd with commentary. Your eyes fell to the small wares lined up on the table trying to distract yourself from Cortez’s smug grin.

Cortez cleared his throat, “Baby?” The smile was evident in his voice before your eyes shot up to his. “Oh that shit was serious,” he paused on a laugh hand moving to wipe across his mouth. “Not you walkin’ around lettin’ grown ass men call you Baby.”

You looked in Syd’s direction for help, an awkward smile lined her lips as she looked between the two of you. “It’s a childhood nickname, why are you still here anyway?”

He shrugged finger tracing across one of the plates, “Nat asked me to stick around for lunch, and ya girl over here was starin’ at these dishes hard as hell, thought she could use a pastry.”

Your eyes narrowed at Cortez’s words, his hands holding out the pastry box to you in offering. Nat wasn’t around to corroborate his story but you also knew he was just as nosy as you and probably took up Nat’s offer in hopes of meeting Carm, you brushed it off before turning back to Syd.

“Why isn’t Carm helping you with all this?” Your hand moved in a gesture to everything set out on the table, you could feel the tension radiating off Syd like it was something palpable.

The look on Syd’s face was a mix of irritation and exhaustion as she looked at you before looking in Cortez’s direction, the man all ears as she decided whether or not to talk about what was plaguing her in mixed company.

“Oh, you know Carm, everywhere and nowhere,” she gave a forced laugh before finding your eyes, the look on your face telling her to cut the shit. “He’s stressing me out more than I already am, which isn’t great. There’s so much to get done and when I bring it up he’s already working on a million other things, or he’s just not even here”

You nodded understanding her frustration, “Makes sense, is there anything I could do to help maybe?” It was a shot in the dark but you understood how Carmy could get, and Syd didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his shenanigans.

“I uh…maybe like I dunno, not occupy so much of his time…please?” Syd wouldn’t meet your eyes as she fiddled with the plate closest to her turning it back and forth. You were too shocked to say anything, Cortez’s chuckles filled the space your voice hadn’t.

“Damn ma, you just out here makin’ everyone’s life fuckin’ harder huh? Thought I was special.” Cortez sent you a small pout as you turned in his direction.

You sent him a mocking pout to match his, tired of being bullied by the man in front of you. “I’m sorry, why the fuck is the peanut gallery speaking?” He rolled his eyes mocking your words before you looked back in Syd’s direction, “Listen, Syd, I didn’t realize I was monopolizing all of Carmy’s time, and I apologize for any stress I’ve caused you, but for now on I’ll be more mindful of your time.”

Syd sent you a small smile, her shoulders relaxed as she realized you weren’t upset with her. Could her words have been nicer, maybe, but without them you wouldn’t have realized just how much Carmy spending time with you was taking away his attention from the restaurant. And while Syd definitely should’ve voiced her concerns to Carm, you were sure she was taking the less volatile approach by speaking with you.

The sound of Syd calling Carmy over drew your attention, your eyes immediately met Cortez’s as his eyes moved from a spot behind you before landing on yours. The two of you had a silent conversation through your eyes, trying your best to shut down any thoughts running through Cortez’s mind as a smug smile graced his features, hands raising in acquiescence.

A warmth at the small of your back had you turning to Carmy. His body now stood next to yours, you tried to tame your smile in front of Cortez not wanting to give him any more ammunition to tease you with. It was subtle but you felt the warmth of Carmy’s fingers trace across your lower back before his hand fell to his side.

“Hey,” his voice was breathy, quiet as his eyes roamed over your face taking inventory. “Are you good, did you eat?”

You gave a soft nod doing your best to ignore the way Cortez and Syd turned to look at each other in your peripheral vision.

“Homeboy just looks lost 24/7 don’t he?” Cortez’s words met your ears, you listened as Syd hummed in agreement, your eyes turning to the two culprits, Carmy’s following shortly after. Cortez stood up after that leaning over the table with his hand outstretched, “Good to properly meet you, kid, seein’ as we ain’t get a chance to talk last time I saw you.”

Cortez’s words confused you, eyes following the hesitant way Carmy’s hand met his. “You two know each other?”

Cortez shrugged smirking in your direction, “I ain’t say all that,” he paused before his eyes shifted to Carmy’s eyes his smirk widened. “Baby over here, talks so fondly bout you homie, feel like I already know you.”

You rolled your eyes at Cortez’s antics letting out a sarcastic laugh before gesturing between the two of them and speaking, “Cortez meet Carmy, Carmy meet Cortez.”

Carmy stood tensely beside you his fingers bumping into yours as his hand moved across his body to scratch his tricep, “I uh, remember you…from the church.” Carmy began nodding his head, this whole situation was news to you but it made sense considering neither man knew who the other was until today.

“That’s great, this is great. I love reunions, quick kinda off topic question which plates should we use to serve our guests, or are we going for a whole like BYOP vibe?” Syd’s hands gestured to the table with the various choices on it.

It was quiet for a moment as Carmy’s eyes flashed across the selection, “What’s BYOP?”

“Bring Your Own Plate.” Your voice along with Cortez’s rang out in sync before the man raised his hand towards you waiting as you reached out to high-five him both of you laughing.

Syd and Carmy shared a moment staring between the two of you before their eyes met. Carmy couldn’t understand it but for some reason seeing you and the man he now knew to be Cortez reminded him of you and Mikey.

“Um, this plate.” Carmy’s hands reached for a sleek black plate that you admired as he set down.

Syd grimaced before speaking up, “Well, that's 55 bucks a plate for that type of silence, so... ”

Cortez let out a low whistle as he leaned in closer to look down at the plate, “Damn y’all got money, them some nice ass plates.” Cortez looked up at the silence that fell over the group, “I can see my opinion ain’t wanted,” he raised his hands in surrender. “But when you got time I’ma need the name of the designer cause these mugs is fresh as fuck.”

You let out a quiet laugh, Syd’s mouth twitching at the corners from Cortez’s humor, “I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday…are sponsees allowed to gift their sponsors, things?”

“The best gift you could get me is yo ass shuttin’ the hell up.” Syd tried to disguise her laugh as a cough when you glared at her, you even saw Carmy’s lips twitch from the peripheral vision.

Before you could respond Nat made her presence known joining the group with an envelope of some sort in her hand. You tuned out the conversation Carmy and Nat engaged in as you occupied yourself with the dishware on the table, cataloging the pieces you thought were nice in your head.

Syd’s tired sigh pulled your attention as you caught the end of the conversation, Carmy offering to drop something off for Nat.

“I can drop that off, that way you two can stay here and get all the hard work done.” The voices quieted as your suggestion rang out, your eyes flashing around the group waiting for a response.

Nat nodded as she began handing the envelope over, “Will you have enough time to get ready for the gala tonight?”

You shrugged not caring too much about the event as you gripped the envelope. Before you could wander off and grab your belongings Carmy spoke up, “I’ll go with you.”

Remembering Syd’s earlier words you offered him a small smile before shaking your head back and forth, “Don’t worry about it, you’ve got plenty of stuff here to worry about.”

Cortez laughed looking between the group gathered around, “Damn it takes two of y’all to drop off a little envelope.”

Carmy ignored his teasing as he began speaking directly to you. “Did you drive here?” You shook your head no at his question, “So you’re just gonna walk all the way to Winnetka?” You weren’t sure when Carmy had become so sassy but you stood there staring at him with a slight smile on your face at his persistence.

“Oh my goodness please just go!” Syd’s words pulled the two of you out of your staring contest, “Just Carm, can we please go over plates and napkins when you get back, maybe even the chaos menu?”

Carmy listened to her request and nodded before turning to you nodding his head and signaling for the two of you to leave. You sighed feeling bad that you were once again occupying Carmy’s time, but the quicker the two of you got this errand done the quicker Carmy could return and get the important work done.

As the two of you moved away from the group, you couldn’t help the small smile as you listened to Syd and Cortez begin a conversation regarding Coach K.

The quiet song playing on the radio was the only noise filling the space of the car, your thumbs twiddled against the steering wheel, eyes locked on the pile-up of cars in front of you. You could feel Carmy’s eyes searing into the side of your head when he stole glances in your direction, for someone who was so adamant on joining your journey, he sure didn’t have much to say.

“Sometimes when I dream, it's always these fucked up scenarios where I’m in a car and I just don’t know how to drive.” You looked over to Carm to see his eyes already on you before continuing. “I always get in these accidents, like the brakes don’t work, or I just fucking crash right? And like what if this is one of those dreams?”

Carmy let out a quiet cough as he looked between you in the driver's seat and the cars ahead of you, “Is there uh…ever any passengers in your dreams?”

You smirked at his question before shrugging, “Sometimes but they never actually have a face, their faces are just smooth.”

“You know how fucked up that sounds?” Carmy’s voice was incredulous as he caught your eyes once more, the two of you sharing a laugh at the whole thing.

While an unusual conversation started, it did the job to break whatever tension had settled between the two of you, as you could see Carmy’s body relax into the seat out of your peripheral.

“So Cortez…he’s your uh sponsor?” Carmy listened as you hummed in approval of his question, his eyes strayed to the way your hands moved to signal a lane change.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to drive knowing how much other drivers pissed you off, “My sponsor, personal pain in the ass. Same difference.” You gave Carm a small smile as you checked the passenger side mirror before merging.

Carm nodded debating whether the questions racing through his mind deserved to be spoken aloud. “What’s it like?” There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Carmy realizing just how insensitive the question was, “Shit uh…you don’t have to answer that.”

Carmy’s question rang through your head as you thought of how to respond. You weren’t sure if meeting Cortez made him so curious or if he had underlying questions since finding out about your accident, it was worth mentioning that your experience wouldn’t help him understand Mikey and his experience even more but that wasn’t a conversation you wanted to get into while driving.

“It’s a lot of fucking discipline,” you stopped trying to gather the best way to articulate your feelings. “There’s this romanticized idea of what being a recovering addict looks like, and it's honestly a bunch of bullshit. People think you make the choice, you get clean, and then like fucking magic you’re just cured.”

Your eyes were hyper-focused on the road as you drove, the words pouring out of you without a second thought. “I’ll be a recovering addict for the rest of my life, there’s no end to this shit. My whole life is different now, the day I chose to use, will affect every single choice I make going forward.”

“And I don’t think I have to tell you, but this shit is a disease. I’m fucking sick Carm, and there’s no getting better, not really. Recovery is like putting a bandaid on a wound that needs fucking life-saving surgery, but the surgery doesn’t exist and you just hope to fucking hell your bandaid will last. I used to be one of those people you know…I thought addicts just had to get clean and all was good again but then I lived that shit.”

Carmy hung onto every word intently, watching the sheen that overcame your eyes as you followed the GPS directions on autopilot, your hands tightening around the steering wheel every few moments as he lost you.

“It’s a lot of pretending too…for me at least, pretending that I’m fine, pretending that the urges aren’t there slowly eating away at me if I give them too much thought.” You paused sniffling as tears fought to drip down your face. “P-pretending I didn’t tell Nat it was her fault that M-Mikey passed, that she should’ve paid more attention as I laid there saying the most vile things hoping they’d give in and just give me something. Pretending I don’t spend days locked away in my room as thoughts of just using one more time bring on bouts of anxious tremors.”

Carm watched you from his spot in the passenger seat, through all that you somehow managed to safely navigate the two of you to your destination. His chest felt tight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks, his eyes catching sight of the way your grip slackened on the steering wheel, the appendages shaking slightly. He could feel the disgust rising in his chest as he realized if it weren’t for his curiosity you wouldn’t be upset.

Carmy unbuckled himself, hands reaching out to collect yours between his. Your unfocused eyes found his as he gave you a minute to collect yourself, the embarrassment of the moment washed over your face. “Sorry, I probably should’ve taken Cortez up on his offer to meet more often.” You let out a pathetic laugh hoping the severe look of concern on Carmy’s face would slowly ebb away.

You allowed him to unbuckle you before his hands found yours once more, you watched as he brought them to settle against his warm chest just barely realizing the slight tremors radiating off of them. He held your hands against his chest allowing the warmth to help calm you down, the steady beat of his heart bringing the comfort you needed.

Carmy’s hands moved from their place atop yours before moving to pull you into his chest as best he could. Neither of you said a word about the uncomfortable way the center console dug into your stomachs. As Carmy’s warm lips pressed into your temple you relaxed into him as much as the positions allowed for his arms bringing you the comfort they always did.

You were thankful that Carmy agreed to the pit stop you’d asked him to make. After sitting in the parking lot for longer than necessary you realized it would be easier to pick up your dress now rather than Carmy dropping you off at home and then leaving to pick it up.

The gentle squeeze to your hand stole your attention, your eyes were staring out the window, not focused on anything in particular as you debated whether to attend the gala or just forget about the whole thing and spend your night home alone. You turned to face Carmy, a small smile on his lips as he nodded to the house he’d parked in front of.

Both of you exited the car meeting up in front of it before you offered him your best encouraging smile and led the way to the door. The warmth radiating off his body behind you is the only notion to let you know he followed you before your hand reached to press the doorbell.

It was a few minutes before a voice yelled from inside the house, noises met your ears as the door was yanked open. The screen door made it difficult to see exactly who stood behind it, but the dramatic gasp let you know who it was.

“Well I’ll be damned Baby, you sure do know how to pick up stray…dare I say bears.” The joke was mediocre at best, but it was Ms. Sadie’s high-pitched laugh that stole a giggle out of you as you turned in Carmy’s direction, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Ms. Sadie left the two of you on the porch, quickly unlocking the screen door as she moved slower than she once did all those years ago, the sound of the lock was enough of an invitation. “We won’t stay long I promise,” you knew just how uncomfortable being social made Carmy. “Take off your shoes.”

Carmy nodded as he watched you step out of your shoes before moving inside his motions following yours. He hadn’t seen Ms. Mable or Ms. Sadie since returning to Chicago, he honestly wasn’t sure they were still alive, but he remembered just how much the two women loved you all those years ago and while he was never as close with them as you and your mom, he felt his cheeks warm at the idea of you bringing him to their house, it didn’t mean anything but he couldn’t help the way his mind read into it.

“Mabel! Baby’s here, and she brought her little friend.” Carmy followed you through the living room as Ms. Sadie’s voice rang through his ears, his eyes floated around the room landing on several photos of you throughout the years, his hand reaching for a photo of the three of you at what he assumed was your college graduation. Carmy’s eyes studied your smile frozen in time, your happiness practically radiated through the picture as you stood in your cap and gown. He knew he would never have these memories with you, and knowing that everyone else besides him celebrated your successes no matter how big or small would always stick with him.

“Carm,” the whisper of your voice made him look in your direction, finding your hand reaching out for him, he gave you his small signature smile before replacing the picture frame.

Carmy allowed you to lead him through the house before the two of you stepped into the sunroom, Ms. Mabel sat at a table, a game of chess in front of her. His fingers twitched as your hand left his to greet the woman, watching as you dropped down to hug her, the older woman’s eyes landing on his as they lit up. He stood awkwardly trying to ignore the glare Ms. Sadie pointed his way as her partner whispered something in your ear. Your soft laugh rang through his head like a breeze in the early morning.

“Carmen Berzatto, you just gon’ stand in my house and not say nothin’?” His eyes widened as he looked between you and Ms. Mabel, mouth opening and closing as he watched a slow smile rise to both of your faces. “M’ just messin’ with you honey, Baby’s been tellin’ us about the restaurant, been wonderin’ when she was gonna bring your round.”

A tense smile raised to his lips, the sense of uncomfortableness slowly ebbing away as you moved back to his side. “Baby, why don’t you go on with Mabel and get your dress, I’ll get Carmen here to help me in the kitchen. I know y’all can’t stay long so we’ll send y’all off with some red beans and rice. How that sound?”

Carmy gave you a reassuring smile as you looked in his direction, he couldn’t voice it but Ms. Sadie intimidated him and he knew her suggestion wasn’t a question but more so a demand as his eyes flitted to Ms. Mabel trying to hide her chuckles behind her hand. His head began nodding before he even realized, your hand reached to give his a light squeeze followed by the smile that was etched into his memory as you and Ms. Mabel left the two of them.

You stepped from behind the partition beaming as Ms. Mabel gasped, clapping her hands. You did a little spin once you made it to the middle of the room stepping on the raised dais so the older woman could assure the alterations were perfect. You watched the woman move around in the mirror thankful for her agreeing to make the few alterations you needed, staring at the way the dress hugged the shape of your body made you feel a bit better about the gala tonight. You hoped the confidence you felt as you stood there would translate to the event and help you get through the night.

“So, you and that Berzatto boy.” Ms. Mabel’s words had a knowing undertone as her eyes met yours in the mirror, a kind smile on her face to let you know her curiosity was genuine.

You gave a slight shrug trying not to show just how flustered the question made you, “We’re friends again if that’s what you're asking.”

Ms. Mabel’s smile widened in the mirror before her mouth opened taking the form of an ‘o’ as she gave you one more once over. “Do you permanently alter your body for all your friends?” The question was paired with her cold fingers tracing the amalgamation of lines that now ran down your spine, a quiet gasp escaped you at the feeling. “Now I was born at night Baby, but I wasn’t born last night. And I know for damn sure you didn’t have this tattoo when I first took your measurements.”

A warmth flushed over your body at having been called out by the older woman as she gestured for you to step off the dais and join her on the settee, your mouth opening to respond.

“Hush up for a minute now,” her wrinkled hands reached out to cup yours as they fiddled in your lap. “It’s beautiful work Baby, don’t get me wrong but I would like to see you find the happiness you deserve before I leave this Earth.” She waved you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “Now Sadie and I ain’t gon’ be here much longer and we love you like you’re our own. But don’t you think you’d be happier if you let that boy go?”

A sigh deflated your body as you took in Ms. Mabel’s words it would have been easy to get defensive and fight tooth and nail for Carmy like you usually did, but you knew she was only asking because of how much she cared about you. You allowed yourself a few seconds of silence as you thought of your response, searching for the best words so as to not disrespect the woman you held in such high regard.

“I think I would be a lot happier if I let Carm go,” saying the words out loud left a bitter taste in your mouth and you weren’t sure if it was the remnants of truth left on your tongue or heartache. “But letting him go wouldn’t remove the space he’s made for himself in my life. We lost contact for 10 years and even that wasn’t enough for me to forget the memory of him. It’s like,” you paused your eyes looking up into Ms. Mabel’s before continuing.

“The love I have for him is burrowed deep in me, like roots. And it’s more than just being in love with him, it’s the love I shared with him growing up, in friendship. I don’t know Ms. Mabel, maybe it would be easier if we didn’t encompass each other’s lives in the way we have, a-and maybe it’s stupid of me to one day hope he could devote himself to me, but whatever love I have for him, I’m just not sure I could find it in someone else.”

The crow's feet by Ms. Mabel’s eyes crinkled up as she offered you a warm smile, her hands squeezed yours as a way to translate the care she had for you. “You know I was married before Sadie right?” Her question had your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t love him, hardly knew him but all women were good for back then was marryin’ and homemakin’. There was someone else though, and the shame those feelings caused me put enough fear in me to marry that man. And he was a good man, treated me right, respected me, but I just couldn’t love him the way I loved my Sadie.”

There was little surprise on your face as Ms. Mabel revealed the identity of the person who held her true affection. “I won’t get into all the messy details, but when I was finally free of that marriage Sadie and I found our way back to each other, and it was then that I knew, no matter what I could never love another soul in the way my soul loved Sadie’s. So no Baby, it’s not stupid but you can’t allow that type of love to live rent-free in you if whoever’s on the other end of it ain’t returin’ the affection. Sometimes Baby it’s just best to love from afar.”

Ms. Mabel pulled you into a warm embrace as she finished talking, hoping that her words wouldn’t just go in one ear and out the other. “Now gon’ on and get outta that dress you done let me talk your ear off so long you might not have enough time to get ready.” She smiled as you laughed along with her before stepping behind the partition to redress.

You and Ms. Mabel stepped into the living room laughter left the both of you as you maneuvered the dress bag so it didn’t get caught on any of the shelves. Carmy and Ms. Sadie seemed to be in deep conversation as the two of you entered the room, a part of you surprised at how comfortable Carmy looked sitting on the plastic-wrapped couch.

“Sadie stop talkin’ that boys ear off Baby needs to go home and get ready.” The sound of Ms. Sadie sucking her teeth caused you to laugh as Ms. Mabel mumbled about how the other woman talked too damn much.

Ms. Sadie said something to Carmy before rising from the couch taking both of their mugs with her before returning with a plastic bag full of Tupperware, “Oh Baby, you got that little fancy gala tonight don’t you.”

You looked in her direction as you moved through the living room to reach Carmy’s side, “Yes ma’am, Ms. Mabel’s alterations were perfect as always.”

“Mhm, so Carmen here is your plus one?” She raised her eyebrow in question as she handed the bag of food over to the aforementioned man.

You tried to ignore the heat of Carmy’s eyes as he turned to look at you. Shuffling in your spot as you looked to Ms. Mabel for help while she pretended to pick up the nonexistent dust particles on one of the shelves. You weren’t sure why she was even asking this question, you’d explained to both of them you were unsure about inviting Carmy every time Ms. Mabel asked.

“W-well I would love for Carm to come with me,” you looked in his direction as his eyes fell to the floor, a blush coloring his cheeks. “But it’s last minute and who knows if he even has a suit. A-and I’ve taken up too much of his time already. Syd really needs him back at the restaurant.”

Ms. Sadie narrowed her eyes at you being able to smell your bullshit before you even opened your mouth. “Well, speak up Carmen.”

You watched as Ms. Sadie raised her eyebrows to Carmy as he looked up, the older woman trying to communicate something without using words. “N-no…uh yeah, Baby’s right I uh gotta get back to the restaurant.”

Ms. Sadie didn’t even try to hide her sigh of disappointment as she shooed to two of you out of the house, Ms. Mabel joined her partner as they walked you and Carmy out to the porch, “We’ll see you for Sunday dinner right Baby?”

You nodded before being pulled into a hug by both women receiving kisses on both of your cheeks, “And you bet not show up here without Carmen.” Ms. Sadie’s words tickled your ear as she whispered to you before pulling away. You gave her a confused smile while nodding, since you’d been back in Chicago Ms. Sadie had made her disapproval of the youngest Berzatto clear, and you couldn’t pretend to know what had changed in the 30 minutes she was left alone with him.

Ms. Mabel and Ms. Sadie stood on their porch waving you and Carmy off as they watched his car pull away. “What got you invitin’ Carmen to our house for Sunday dinners?” Ms. Mabel looked up at her wife having heard her whisper to you, “Thought you didn’t like that boy after everything.”

The taller woman shrugged her shoulder before wrapping her arm around Ms. Mabel’s waist, “That boy just needed some sense smacked into him.” Before Ms. Mabel could open her mouth to protest, Ms. Sadie hushed her. “I’m just messin’ but before you scold me for not mindin’ my business you better figure out which one of us is the pot and which one is the kettle.”

They divulged into boisterous laughter as they stood there in each other’s embrace. Relishing in just how well they knew each other, “If that hardheaded boy don’t make his move tonight I’m uninvitin’ his ass from Sunday dinner.”

Ms. Sadie’s heart warmed as she watched Ms. Mabel’s face light up from just how much she laughed. Ms. Sadie led the smaller woman into the house, and although her jokes regarding the Berzatto boy got raucous laughter from her lover, she sure would be put out if she sat her old ass on that couch talking sense into that boy instead of watching her program and he decided the wisdom she kindly bestowed upon him didn’t need to be put to use.

a/n: i know this was a bit much for a filler chapter but i promise it sets up a very important story arc that we’ve all heavily been anticipating. hope you all enjoyed, hope you’re all doing amazing my loves! reblogs and comments are much appreciated! 🫶🏽🤎

[trashywritestrash]

Deserve It

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8K

Warnings: ANGST, some physical violence (reader’s wrist is grabbed, reader shoves someone), domestic violence, eddie is an asshole, degrading but not in a sexy way, crying, lots of swearing, self-sabotaging behavior, alcohol use, drug use, like one tiny moment of tough love from Wayne?, it’s a lot of warnings and I honestly might be missing some so if you’re worried you might not be able to handle this please don’t try it

A/N: I know the title sounds a lil ominous but I would like to preface this by saying that there is NO VICTIM BLAMING HERE. We don’t pull that shit in this house

gif by thehumming6ird

You’re friends with Eddie Munson. Steve and Robin will never understand why or how, but he makes you happy, so they quietly accept that fact. But beyond that, you like Eddie Munson. That confession really threw your two co-workers for a loop, but again, they quietly accepted it and listened while you talked about him.

“Eddie and I hung out at his place last night and he forced me to watch the first Star Wars movie and it actually wasn’t that bad. We’re gonna watch the next one tonight. I have to try to remember to stop and get some snacks before I go over so we have something to munch on—“

“Oh my God, Y/N! Could you be any more in love?” Robin groans, tired of hearing both of her friends talk about their crushes and their love lives. “Just tell him already before I lose what little sanity I have left!”

Steve laughs at your pout and Robin’s dramatics. “As much as I hate to agree with Robin—“ The girl in question slaps his arm, causing him to hold his arm with a dramatic gasp. “Rude! As I was saying, you should tell him how you feel. From everything you’ve told us, he clearly likes you. You’ll just have to be the one to man up and say it first.”

“But what if you’re wrong and he doesn’t like me?”

“Then he’s an idiot and you come over and we eat ice cream and watch movies while you cry.” Now it’s Steve’s turn to hit Robin’s arm. “Hey! I’m being honest!”

You crack a grin at your friend's antics and go to say something, but an older woman steps into the store. Robin gives you a look that says ‘this isn’t over’ while you quietly wait for the woman to find what she’s looking for. Only a minute or two later, she comes up to the counter with a friendly smile. You make polite conversation while you ring her up and spot Robin smirking from the corner of your eye.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you think you could help us settle a debate?”

The woman laughs but plays along. “Sure. What about?”

Robin grins as she starts to explain your situation to this stranger, “Our friend Y/N here has a crush on her best friend. We are positive that he likes her back, but he’s too scared to make a move. We’ve been trying to convince her that she should just tell him, but she keeps refusing. Do you think she should?” Robin finishes while you groan. Now she’s bringing customers into your silly crush situation? Where does it end?

You go to apologize, but the woman just smiles at you. “I think you should talk to him. You’re young and pretty. He must care for you if you’re close friends. He’d be silly not to. Take it from me; I confessed to my crush when I was about your age.”

“And what happened..?” You ask hesitantly.

She grins, “I married him.”

Steve and Robin look at you expectantly and you sigh. “Fine, I’ll do it! But you two are buying the ice cream and renting Sixteen Candles if it ends badly!”

—————

Meanwhile, Eddie was sitting at the Hellfire table at lunch. Dustin was ranting about something, but Eddie had no clue as to what. He had tuned the freshman out a while ago.

“—Y/N obviously likes you!”

That caught his attention. “What are you going on about?”

Dustin sighs, annoyed that he has to repeat himself. “Y/N is, like, in love with you. Why else would she watch Star Wars? And ask to watch the second? I’ve been trying to get her to watch it for years, but she always says no!”

“That’s because you’re a twerp and you would talk through the whole thing,” Eddie argues, not believing Dustin.

“Dude, she buys you snacks! Even when you don’t ask! She buys the chips you like even though she thinks they’re disgusting! She makes goo-goo eyes at you when you’re not looking! Y/N likes you!”

Eddie frowns, “Shut it, Henderson. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not about to take lady advice from a kid who has a fake girlfriend.”

The others laugh while Dustin angrily argues that Suzie is real and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates. But Eddie zones out of the conversation to think about what Dustin said. It was like puzzle pieces were falling into place. The little shit was right; Y/N likes him. Eddie stood from the table without a word and left the cafeteria, then the school. He got into his van and sped off toward the trailer park. He needed something to help with this.

—————

Hours later, you finish your shift at Family Video. You excitedly stop at the party store on the way to Eddie’s trailer, picking up candy and Eddie’s favorite chips (that you hate). Ten minutes later, you knock on his door once before letting yourself in with a spare key. Eddie had given it to you a couple months back, claiming that when he’s smoking in his room he doesn’t hear the door. You assume he must not have heard you this time, but when you step in Eddie is sitting on the couch directly across from the door. He looks completely out of it. “Eddie? Are you okay?”

He doesn’t even look up at you. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Do you still want to watch the movie tonight? We can do something else if you’re not feeling—“

“I said I’m fine!” Eddie raises his voice and you flinch. He doesn’t notice.

You get a good look at him and your heart drops. The whites of his eyes are now red, and even from a couple feet away, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. If you couldn’t smell it, you’d still see the half-empty bottle of whiskey that sits next to him. Not only has Eddie been drinking, but he’s also been smoking; you know that isn’t a good combination.

“No, you’re not. We need to get you some water and get you to bed.” You insist, trying to help.

This just makes Eddie mad. “Jesus Christ, Y/N! Are you deaf or just fucking stupid?! I said I’m fine!”

You should leave. You should run out of the door now and not look back. But you don’t. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Eddie chuckles, but it sounds wrong. There’s a darkness in it, tainting the sound that you love. “What happened is that I found out my best friend has been keeping secrets from me.” You look confused so he keeps going, “You like me, huh? Have a stupid little schoolgirl crush on the big bad freak? What do you really want? You wanna whore yourself out and run around, tell people you fucked the freak?”

The embarrassment you feel about him knowing you like him is overshadowed by your fear. This isn’t Eddie, this is someone else entirely. “Eddie, you know that’s not what I want. You’re not acting like yourself right now.”

“You don’t know me, Y/N! This is me!” He steps towards you and you step back, your back hitting the edge of his kitchen counter. It presses against your back painfully, but that’s the least of your problems right now. “You’re scared of me now, huh? Just ‘cuz I raise my voice a little and call you out for hanging around me like a slut.”

Your eyes begin to water as he gets closer. It gets harder to breathe and you feel your throat constricting. “Eddie, stop.” The words come out like a broken whisper, which makes Eddie laugh.

“You’re gonna cry now? Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Is that what you wanna hear? I didn’t think you were such a baby.” He almost sounds bored. Like he’s tired of you acting like this.

Eddie is only inches in front of you now. If he was paying attention, he’d notice how you’re trembling. “I want to go home.”

You cry out as Eddie grabs your wrist. His fingers dig into your skin, and you’re positive it’s going to bruise. “No, you don’t! You wanted something when you came here, now you wanna change your mind? Didn’t like what you found?”

It’s all too much. He’s too close, his grip on your wrist is too painful. His voice was too loud. You use your free hand to shove his chest. The alcohol in his system makes him clumsier, so your weak push moves him back. It’s not much space, but it’s enough for you to get through. Once you make it to the door, you turn to face him.

Your tears escape, falling from your eyes and down your cheeks. The salty taste is almost comforting when you speak.

“FUCKING STOP!” You yell, surprising yourself with how clear it is. Your body continues to shake, but your words are stronger now. “I don’t know what your problem is, but back the fuck off! Yeah, I like you, but I’m not gonna stand here and let you treat me like shit because you wanna assume the worst!”

Eddie doesn’t move from his spot, frozen in place. He looks the tiniest bit guilty, but you don’t care. You’re too angry to care. “You don’t get to take your anger out on me like I’m your punching bag! So I’m going home, and you’re going to stay here and sober up. Then after that, you’re gonna lose my number. You’re going to forget my address, you’re not gonna step foot in Family Video ever again, you’re not going to talk to me or even look at me again. Because if this is you, I want no part in it.” You let out a deep breath and your anger subsides slightly. “I like Eddie Munson. I love Eddie Munson. But this is not him.” With that, you slam the door shut behind you and go home.

—————

The next morning greets Eddie with a blinding headache. He can’t move or open his eyes and feels miserable in general. When he finally forces his eyes open, he notices that he’s on the floor right in front of the fridge. He must have gone to grab a beer and passed out on the way.

Eddie spots the bag of snacks that you had brought on the counter and remembers that you were supposed to watch a movie last night. That memory triggers images of the fight. He remembers how he yelled, how he backed you against the counter… Eddie remembers the fear in your eyes, and how he grabbed your wrist and squeezed until you cried. You were terrified of him and he deserved it.

All Eddie could see was the look on your face as he laid on the floor and cried. He stayed like that until Wayne came home hours later. Wayne took pity on him, but Eddie stopped him and told his Uncle everything.

“What do I do?” Eddie asked, desperate for an answer.

Wayne’s expression remained stoic as he stood from the couch. He grabbed a trash can and started throwing every can and bottle of alcohol into it. “You sober up and apologize with your tail between your legs. And if she tells you to fuck off, you do what she says.”

Yeah, Eddie deserves that.

—————

Want more Eddie? Check out my masterlist

If you enjoyed this or would like to read more of my work, please consider liking, reblogging, or tipping my Ko-Fi!

[canmom]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, 000-012

Or, what if that mural was the heart of a web serial.

I'm reading The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, thanks largely to the enthusiasm of @azdoine and @lukore on my dash over the last few months.

This is absolutely not gonna be a liveblog in the level of detail of the great Umineko liveblog project. Rather I'm gonna be aiming at something like the comics comints series or those occasional posts on anime. Or indeed what I wrote about Worth The Candle last year. I must create a robot whose purpose is to watch to see if I start writing detailed plot summaries and hit me with a stick labelled 'remember you have a job now'.

That outta the way, let's talk flower!

No, not that flower!

I will start with an anecdote. When I was at university, I ended up attending a talk by court alchemist senescence researcher Aubrey de Grey, who at that time did not yet have a 'sexual harassment allegations' section on his Wikipedia page. The main thing that struck me at the time was his rather spectacularly long beard. But I did listen to his talk about ending aging.

de Grey's schtick is that he, like many people in the transhumanist milieu, believes that medical technology is on the cusp of being able to prevent aging sufficiently well to prolong human lifespans more or less indefinitely. He believes that the different processes of aging can be understood in terms of various forms of accumulating cellular 'damage', and that these will begin to be addressed within present human lifespans, buying time for further advancements - so that (paraphrasing from memory) 'the first immortals have already been born'. He has some pretty graphs to demonstrate this point.

At that talk, one of the audience members asked de Grey the (in my view) very obvious question about whether access to this technology would be distributed unevenly, creating in effect an immortal ruling class. de Grey scoffed at this, saying he always gets this question, and basically he didn't think it would be a big deal. I forget his exact words, but he seemed to assume the tech would trickle down sooner or later, and this was no reason not to pursue it.

I'm sure de Grey is just as tired of being reminded of how unbalanced access to medical technology is in our current world, or the differences in average life expectancy between countries.

So, I was very strongly reminded of de Grey as The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere laid out its major thematic concerns and characters. I was also put in mind of many online arguments in the transhumanist milieu about whether it would be a good thing, in principle, to end death.

In particular, of course, comes to mind transhumanist Nick Bostrom's short story The Fable of the Dragon-Tyrant, in which death is likened to a huge dragon that demands to be fed trains full of humans every day. In the story, humanity's scientists secretly build a giant gun to kill the dragon. Naturally, despite all the doubters and naysayers who foolishly feel obliged to justify the existence of the dragon, the gun works. Bostrom's imagery is incredibly heavy-handed (particularly the trains à la Auschwitz), but just in case you didn't get it, he also spells out the moral explicit at the end: basically, every day not spent putting resources to abolishing death is adding up more and more bodies to the pile of people who don't get to be immortal.

So far, Flower seems to be shaping up to be a critical intervention into that milieu, with a much more grounded view of death and a much stronger model of society - admittedly not a high bar but it's going good so far!

At the time of writing this commentary, I have read the prologue and first two six-chapter arcs, namely Mankind's Shining Future (1-6) and Pilgrimage to the Deep (7-12).

the general shape of things

We are introduced - from the perspective of sardonic, introverted Su, who is going to be the protagonist of our time loop - to a group of brilliant young medical wizards, who have just been invited to visit the headquarters of a secret society whose mission is precisely to abolish death. Su's grandfather was some kind of controversial luminary who was expelled this organisation, and he also did something to her, which is giving her some kind of ulterior motive to find her way into this society.

We know pretty much from the outset that this is a time loop scenario: Su has been explicitly given the opportunity to replay the scenario in the hopes of find an alternative outcome, by some kind of presently mysterious parties. This first part is the 'control' loop, i.e. probably more or less how things went down 'originally'.

I believe Umineko is an explicit inspiration for this story, and the influence is pretty evident. But parallels with the Locked Tomb series, especially Gideon the Ninth, are also quite noticeable. @lukore spoke of it as the STEM to Locked Tomb's humanities, and I can already kinda see it, although we haven't got into the real meat of the scenario yet. This story began serialisation four years ago, making the two works roughly contemporary. The latest chapter was published in the last couple of weeks - no idea if I've arrived just in time for the ending!

Stylistically, it's generally pretty heavy on dialogue and long asides. The characters are a bunch of mega nerds who love to have big philosophical and political discussions, but their dynamics are well enough realised and their dynamics clear enough that it can double up as naturalistic characterisation. So far, the discussions have been interesting to read.

Below I'm going to make some notes and comments on various elements of the setting and story. In a followup post (because it got too long) I'm going to talk a lot about entropy. Perhaps you will find this interesting!

the world

The first few chapters are dedicated pretty hard to exposition. We find ourselves in a distant-future setting - one in which it seems reality has totally collapsed and then been rebuilt using magic, creating a somewhat oddball universe which lacks things like the element iron, and also electromagnetism. This seems like it would have pretty severe implications for just about everything!

However, the 'ironworkers' have, after producing a series of trial and error 'lower planes' that didn't quite get it right, landed on a fairly close approximation of how things used to be on the old world. Though by 'fairly close approximation' I mean like... it's a bowl-shaped world and the sun and stars are artificial lanterns. But still, there are humans, and they seem to work more or less like we're used to humans working, apart from the whole 'magic' thing.

So, an alt-physics setting. Praise Aealacreatrananda, I love that shit.

While electromagnetism might be out, the more abstract physical principles like thermodynamics still apply, and the humans of this universe have managed to find analogues to a number of things in our world. Instead of computers, they have 'logic engines' which run on magic. Horses seem to have made it in, so we get delightful blends of historical and futuristic concepts like a self-driving computer-controlled horse-drawn carriage taxi.

The biggest difference is of course that in this setting, magic - more on that in a bit - has solved most medical problems and humans routinely live to around 500. The setting is ostensibly a semi-post-scarcity one, although a form of money exists in 'luxury debt', which can be exchanged for things like taxi rides, café food and trips on the space elevator.

Politically, we are told that the world has enjoyed a few hundred years of general peace, broken in living memory by a revolution which put an end to a regime of magical secrecy. There are lots of countries, and an alliance overseeing them.

There's a few other oddities in this world. Something called a 'prosognostic event' can happen if you see someone who has the same face as you, and whatever this is, it's bad enough news that everyone is constantly reminded to veil their faces in public and there's some kind of infant 'distinction treatment' to mitigate the risk. Given that, in the regular world, nothing particularly bad would happen if you ran into a long-lost identical twin, it suggest there is probably something a little fucky about how humans work in this world!

There's evidently a fair bit of effort put into the worldbuilding of fictional countries and historical periods. The important elements seem to be roughly along the lines of:

our world is currently in what they call the 'old kingdoms' period, which is poorly remembered;

next up comes an 'imperial' period of high transhumanist shenanigans in which society was ruled by 'gerontocrats' who got exclusive access to the longevity treatment, but this all somehow led to a huge disaster which destroyed og earth;

the survivors built the Mimikos where humanity currently lives using magic and created some kind of huge iron spike that holds the universe together; there was subsequently a 'fundamentalist' period in which a strict cutoff point was put on human lifespans and a lot of the wackier magic was banned;

now we're onto a new era of openness following a small revolution, while the major political structures remain largely intact.

Writing a far-future setting is hard, because trying to deal with the weight of history without the story getting bogged down with worldbuilding details is a fiddly line to walk. The Dying Earth series of Jack Vance might be a relevant point of comparison. Vance leaves the historical details vague - there are endless old kingdoms and strange artefacts and micro-societies for Cugel and co. to stumble on. Far more important than the specifics of history is establishing the vibe of a world that's seen an unimaginable amount of events layered on top of each other and is honestly a bit tired.

Flower makes things a bit more concrete and generally manages to make this work decently well. I do appreciate the asides where Su talks about, for example, the different architectural styles that layer up to make a place, or the way a technique has been refined. It establishes both that Su is the kind of person to notice this sort of thing, and also helps the world feel lived-in.

the names

The story doesn't do a lot with language. The story is written in English, and the narration will occasionally make reference to how things are phrased (e.g. how divination predates the suffix -mancy). We can probably make the standard assumption that this is all translated from $future_language, with the notional translator making a suitable substitution of whatever linguistic forms exist in that language.

The characters are named in a variety of languages. Our main character's full name is Utsushikome of Fusai. We're told that this is "an old name from Kutuy, and means something like 'mysterious child'" - so Kutuyan is one of the languages spoken in this world. It's blatantly got the same phonotactics as Japanese, and indeed if I search up 'Utsushikome', I find an obscure historical figure called Utsushikome-no-Mikoto, wife of the Emperor Kōgen; she has no article on English Wikipedia, but she does have a brief one on Japanese wiki. Just as Su says about Kutuyan, 'Utsushikome' is written 欝色謎 in Japanese, but it relies on archaic readings of those characters and wouldn't read that way in modern Japanese. We could perhaps assume a good old translation convention is in effect where Kutuyan is replaced with Japanese.

A lot of characters have Greek names, as do various setting elements. One exception is Kamrusepa, or Kam, who is named for an ancient goddess of medicine worshipped by the Hittites and Luwians. I know basically fuck all about Hittites and Luwians but it's a cool little nod to mythology, and it won't be the only one!

I'll run down a list of characters and my comments about them in a bit. But many are named after gods or other mythological figures.

the magic

Most of the divergences come from magic existing. Certain humans are 'arcanists', who are able to use the 'Power', which is a magic system with a highly computational flavour. Thanks to Su's expositional asides, we know that an incantation is something like a short program written in cuneiform with the ability to gather information, perform maths, and manipulate particles. An example we are given is a spell called "entropy-denying", which is the following string of cuneiform:

"…(𒌍𒌷𒀭)(𒌍𒁁𒀭)𒅥𒌈𒆜𒈣𒂠, 𒋢𒀀𒅆𒌫𒃶,𒈬𒊹."

We're told that spells always start with phrases ending in 𒀭, and end in 𒊹. Beyond that, I'm not sure how far the author has actually worked out the syntax of this magic system - probably not in too much detail! Seems like the kind of thing it's better to leave vague, but also she seems like kind of nerd who would (positive). It's conceptually a reasonable magic system for a world where more or less realistic physics applies.

The use of unusual scripts for a magic system isn't that unusual - the old European occultists who wrote the [Lesser] Key of Solomon loved to write on their magic circles in Hebrew, and in modern times we could mention Yoko Taro's signature use of the Celestial Alphabet for example - but the specific use of cuneiform here seems like it might be a little more significant, because a little later in the story the characters encounter a mural depicting The Epic of Gilgamesh, which of course was recorded on cuneiform tablets. Remains to be seen exactly what these allusions will mean!

The magic system is divided into various disciplines defined by the different ways they approach doing magic, with the disciplines breaking down broadly along the same lines as the modern scientific disciplines. For example, our protagonist is a thanatomancer ("necromancer" having become unfashionable), which is the discipline dealing with death; she's specifically an entropic thanatomancer, distinguished by their framework viewing death as the cessation of processes.

Magic relies on an energy that they refer to as 'eris' (unknown relation to the Greek goddess of strife and discord). We are told that eris must be carefully apportioned across the elements of a spell or shit blows up, that it can be stored, and it accumulates gradually enough that you don't want to be wasteful with it, but so far given little information about where it comes from.

Magic in this story generally seems to act as a kind of 'sufficiently advanced technology'. It's very rules-based, and used for a lot of mundane ends like operating computers or transport. Advancement in magic is something like a combination of basic research and software development. But the thing that makes it a magic system and not merely alt-physics is that it's at least a little bit personal: it must be invoked by an individual, and only certain people can operate the magic. We're told a little about how wizards are privileged in some societies, indoctrinated in social utility in others, and expected to be inconspicuous in the present setting. It's not clear yet if you need some kind of special innate capacity to do the magic, or if it's just a matter of skill issue.

With one exception, our main characters are a gaggle of wizards, and exceptionally skilled students at that. They're at an elite institution, carrying high expectations, even if they are themselves fairly dismissive of the pomp and ceremony. They have grandiose plans: Kamrusepa in particular is the main voice of the 'death should be abolished' current.

the cast

We're entering a cloistered environment with high political stakes hanging off of it. Even if I hadn't already heard it described as a murder mystery, it would feel like someone will probably be murdered at some point, so lets round up our future suspects.

Su (Utsushikome) is our protagonist and first-person POV. She's telling this story in the first past tense, with a style calling to mind verbal narration; she'll occasionally allude to future events so we know for sure narrator!Su knows more than present!Su. She's got a sardonic streak and she likes long depressing antijokes, especially if the punchline is suicide. She will happily tell us she's a liar - so maybe her narration isn't entirely reliable, huh.

Su is more than a little judgemental; she doesn't particularly like a lot of her classmates, or people in general, and generally the first thing she'll tell you about a character is how well she gets on with them. She introduces the theme of 'wow death sucks' in the first paragraph, but she is, at least at this point, pessimistic that anyone will manage to do anything about it for good.

Her magical specialisation is entropic thanatomancy, roughly making processes go again after they working coherently.

Her name is a reference to an obscure Japanese empress, as discussed above.

Ran is Su's bestie from the same home country. She is generally pretty on the level. She likes romance novels and she is pretty sharp at analysing them. She will cheerfully team up with Su to do a bit or bait someone else when an argument gets going.

Her magical specialisation is Divination, which is sort of a more fundamental layer of magic, about gathering information by any means. In medicine it's super advanced diagnostics.

Her name is too short to pin down to a specific allusion. Could be one of a couple of disciple of Confucius such as Ran Geng, or a Norse goddess of the sea.

Kam (Kamrusepa) is the de facto class prez and spotlight lover. She's hardcore ideological, the story's main voice of the de Grey/Bostrom death-abolishing concept so far - I think she straight up calls someone a 'deathist' at some point. She loves to tell everyone what she thinks about everything, and getting the last word.

Her magical specialisation is Chronomancy, so time magic. It's described as secretive and byzantine, but also it can do stuff like (locally?) rewind time for about five minutes. No doubt it has something to do with the time loop.

As mentioned above, she's named after a fairly obscure ancient deity of healing and magic.

Theo (Theodoros) is a fairly minor character. He's scatterbrained and easily flustered, he has a similar background to our protagonist, and he's not great with people. His name is shared with a number of ancient Greek figures, so it's hard to narrow it down to one allusion. I don't think his magic school has been mentioned.

Ptolema is a cheery outgoing one, someone who Su dismisses as an airhead. And she is at least easy to bait into saying something ill-considered. Her specialisation is applying magic to surgery. As a character, she tends to act as a bit of a foil to the others. Bit of a valley girl thing going on.

'Ptolema' is presumably a feminised version of the renowned Greek philosopher Ptolemy.

Seth is the jock to Ptolema's prep, and our goth protag Su doesn't particularly like him either. ...lol maybe that's too flippant, I may be misapplying these US high school stereotypes. To be a little more precise then, he's pretty casual in demeanour, flirty, likes to play the clown. He specialises in Assistive Biomancy, which revolves around accelerating natural healing processes.

Seth is named for either the Egyptian god (domain: deserts, violence and foreigners) or an Abrahamic figure, the third son of Adam and Eve granted by God after the whole Caim killing Abel thing.

Ophelia is someone Su describes as 'traditionally feminine' - soft-spoken, demure etc. (Gender in this world appears to be constructed along broadly similar lines to ours). Indeed we get a fairly extended description of her appearance. Her specialisation is Alienist Biomancy, which means introducing foreign elements to healing (not entirely sure how that differs from the Golemancy mentioned later).

Ophelia is of course a major character in Shakespeare's Hamlet, best known for going mad and dying in a river.

Fang is the only nonbinary member of the class, noted as the most academically successful. They're not on the expedition, but the characters discuss them a little in their absence, so maybe they'll show up later. It seems like they have a bit of a rebellious streak. Their magical specialisation is not mentioned.

Fang is a regular ol' English word, but I gave it a search all the same and found there's an ancient Chinese alchemist of that name. She is the oldest recorded woman to do an alchemy in China, said to know how to turn mercury into silver.

Lilith is the teenaged prodigy in computers logic engines, and Mehit is her mother who accompanies her on the trip. They've got a big Maria and Rosa (of Umineko) dynamic going on, with Mehit constantly scolding Lilith and trying to get her to obey social norms, though in contrast to Maria, Lilith is a lot more standoffish and condescending to the rest of the gang. Lilith specialises in 'Golemancy', which means basically medical robotics - prosthetic limbs and such. She spends most of her time fiddling with her phone logic engine, and will generally tell anyone who talks to her that they're an idiot. Sort of a zoomer stereotype.

Lilith is named for the Abrahamic figure, the disobedient first wife of Adam who was banished and, according to some Jewish traditions, subsequently became a demon who attacks women at night. There may be some connection between Lilith and the lioness-headed Mesopotamian chimeric monster Lamashtu, which I mention because Mehit is an Egyptian and Nubian lion goddess.

'Golemancy' is probably playing on the popular fantasy idea of a 'golem' as a kind of magic robot, but given the Jewish allusion in Lilith's name here, I do wonder a little bit if it's going to touch on the Jewish stories of the Golem which inspired it - a protective figure with a specific religious dimension.

There are some other characters but they're not part of the main party on their way to the function, so I won't say much about them just yet. Also it's entirely possible I went and forgot an entire classmate or something, big whoops if so.

the events

In true Umineko tradition, the beginning of the story narrates in great detail how the protagonists make their way to the place where the plot is going to happen.

To be fair, there's a lot of groundwork to be laid here, and the characters' discussions do a lot to lay out the concerns of the story and sketch out the setting, not to mention establish the major character relations. A murder mystery takes a certain amount of setup after all! There's plenty of sci-fi colour to be had in the 'aetherbridge', which is a kind of space elevator that lifts you up to a high altitude teleporter network. (It's technically not teleportation but 'transposition', since teleportation magic also exists in the story, with different restrictions! But close enough for government work.)

They go to a huge space citadel, which is kind of a transport hub; some cloak and dagger shit happens to hide the route they must take to the mysterious secret organisation. They find a strange room with a missing floor and a mural of the Epic of Gilgamesh, albeit modified to render it cyclic. What does it meeaaaan?

The idea of a secret society of rationalists is one that dates back to the dawn of ratfic, in HPMOR. It was kinda dumb then, but it works a lot better here, where we're approaching the wizard circle from outside. The phrase 'Great Work' has already been dropped. I love that kind of alchemical shit so I'm well into finding out what these wizards are plotting.

the dying

A lot of the discussions revolve around the mechanics of death. Essentially the big problem for living forever is information decay. Simple cancers can be thwarted fairly easily with the magic techniques available, but more subtle genetic slippages start to emerge after the first few hundred years; later, after roughly the 500 year mark, a form of dementia becomes inevitable. It's this dementia in particular that the characters set their sights on curing.

One thing that is interesting to me is that, contra a lot of fantasy that deals with necromancy (notably the Locked Tomb series), there appears to be no notion of a soul in this world whatsoever. The body is all that there is. Indeed, despite all the occult allusions in the character names, there is very little in the way of religion for that matter. Even the 'fundamentalism' is about an idea of human biological continuity that shouldn't be messed with too much.

Su distinguishes three schools of thought on death, namely 'traditional', 'transformative' and 'entropic'. The 'traditional' form attempts to restore limited function - classic skeleton shit. 'Transformative' sees death as a process and uses dead tissues together with living in healing. Su's 'entropic' school broadens this 'process' view to consider death as any kind of loss of order - a flame going out as much as an organism dying. At the outset of the story, Su has discovered a 'negentropic' means to restore life to an organism, which she considers promising, even if for now it only works for fifteen minutes.

This is an interesting perspective, but the devil is in the details. Because processes such as life or flames, necessarily, result in a continuous increase in the thermodynamic entropy of the universe. And yet this idea of death-as-loss-of-order does make a kind of sense, at a certain level of abstraction.

Elaborating on this got rather too long for this post, and I think it can stand alone, so I'm going to extract it to a followup post.

the comments

As is probably evident by the length of this post, I am very intrigued by The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere. The setting is compelling, and it seems like it's got the willingness to bite at the chewy questions it raises instead of acting like it has all the answers, which is I think one of the most crucial elements for this kind of scifi. I like how unabashed it is at having its characters straight-up debate shit.

Of course, this all depends where they go with it. There's so many ways it could be headed at this point. I hear where it's going is 'dark yuri' and 'Umineko-inspired murder mystery', so that should be really juicy fun, but I do end up wondering what space that will leave to address the core theme it's laid out in these first few chapters.

Overall, if this and Worth the Candle are what modern ratfic is like, the genre is honestly in pretty good shape! Of course, I am reading very selectively. But this is scratching the itch of 'the thing I want out of science fiction', so I'm excited to see where the next 133 chapters will take me.

Though all that said, I ended up writing this post all day instead of reading any other chapters or working, so I may need to rein it in a bit.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/2/2024

in which i try to clean two different boxes with varying success

new people: hello! the tuesdaypost is a weekly roundup of stuff i've been listening, reading, watching, playing, and making. it is NOT a recommendation series, although i sometimes dabble in critique. when im firing on all cylinders i ask "what is the core concept of this? does it succeed in what i think it's trying to do and what it says it's doing?is it well-made but i dislike it/beautiful but not for me? why? what parts Really Work?"

if you are into purity culture, yelling at other people about the problematic media they consume, or are under 18 i am going to have very little patience for you.

listening

now that i live in houston i am legally obliged to loop the new beyonce album 24/7. there is absolutely truly nobody fucking doing it like her. every song is a multimedia art piece. goddamn do i miss the album as a tool to convey a specific concept/listening order/flow. sometimes (chappell roan most recently comes to mind, although it does feel unfair to compare anyone to beyonce) every individual song is pretty good but the listening experience if you sit down and listen all the way through the album is unpleasant and choppy. not so here. NEVER here.

my favorite like Dance Number is YA YA (it samples nancy sinatra's boots! and the beach boys' good vibrations! wildly different tones despite coming out a year apart!)

the one that goes on four different character/tone playlists is BODYGUARD.

great early roundup of influences, samples, and collaborators. delighted to see five fingers for marseilles listed, a rocky but underrated south african neo-western free on tubi rn for americans

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reading

also very texas-relevant with the recent pornhub lawsuits! pornhub and sex tech (among other things) have been samantha cole's beat for almost ten years. i trust her to report sensitively and not for like. shock clicks

this site has a free paywall (sign up with your email for a link to the full article) so bots have a harder time scraping articles: this is a journalist-founded site with only the four founders running it and writing articles. while annoying i do think this is a reasonable measure

The platform still has problems, but after years of critical reporting and a litany of legal and reputational consequences, Pornhub is now more heavily moderated than any other porn platform, and most major social media platforms, for that matter. A growing list of age verification laws has put Pornhub in a position where it is compelled to block access to its site in seven states and counting. In theory, these laws are designed to prevent children from being able to access pornography online. In reality, what is going to happen is that children are going to end up on pornographic sites that don’t care what the law says, and where some of the most harmful content that exists online is actively promoted to them.

she's also got a new limited series podcast with CBC about the rise and fall of pornhub, which was fascinating and kept me company during an extremely early morning drive

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watching

i'm lukewarm about this one but i spend a lot of time getting there, much like this movie

ive been watching a lot of frankly dogshit thrillers, which has made me wonder: what's the deal with supervillans? where did they come from? and thence arrived at the prototypical film Dr Mabuse the Gambler (1922, dir. Lang). the four and a half hour cut on Kanopy is two normal-length movies superglued together, which makes sense as a streaming product but it is sort of a terrifying runtime and took me three days to get through.

sometimes, as we know, i get a real bee in my bonnet about visiting the early versions of things. dr mabuse is the blueprint for every james bond and mission impossible villain, or really any shadowy supervillain with power over [INDUSTRY] or [THE MARKET]. it is a four and a half hour long cat and mouse game through lavish, eccentric sets between mabuse and prosecutor wenk. it has some trouble sustaining itself bc it is four and a half hours long but does deliver on the cat and mouse aspects. this letterboxed review has interesting things to say about the political climate of 1922 germany and how lang subverts the formula of the pulp serial.

really the film opens with mabuse yelling at his cocaine-addicted assistant, but the film properly gets going with mabuse's henchmen stealing a trade agreement (nothing really carbon dates a movie more than a missing trade agreement. vanishingly few post-early-30s movies have missing trade agreements as plot points) and then he crashes the stock market. for fun and profit.

however. i think every time you see an evil man who is a banker or stockbroker or generally uses money as power you have to interrogate whether it's antisemitic. the answer here is "maybe" but i'm not sure if intent matters when contemporary nazi critics were eager to hold mabuse up as "this is the typical jewish criminal". (sorry about the link directly to wikipedia, it's been touch finding online sources for this section). mabuse is not specifically jewish, but there are certainly elements of stereotype. i am still not good at being presented with "this movie has a shadowy behind the scenes figure manipulating the government and all the money ever" and going "hey wait a minute".

after that tremendous glaring caveat, for which i read more contemporary reviews and reviews in general than i ever read for movies in these posts, is it good? eh. a contemporary VARIETY review remarked (and i largely agree)

The direction of Fritz Lang has moments – but Lang somewhat negates his good technical effects by twenty forty-word captions of a ludicrous unconciseness.

the night scenes are particularly well done, and imo are better than many modern night scenes--other contemporary reviews remarked

In this film the techniques of the film camera (Carl Hoffmann’s brilliant photography) are brought to perfection. The problem of how to film lit-up streets at night has been solved for the first time. It is unbelievably impressive to see the glaring lights of speeding cars flash through the night or the rapid passing of an elevated train of the initially blurred, then gradually focussed glimpse through a pair of opera glasses on to the variety stage, the nuances of light and shade—these things alone prove the value of film documentary.

look at this shit! filmed from within the cars! in 1922!!!

this film asks you to believe hypnotism is real and really effective, so i don't think it's that big of a leap when it asks you to believe in ghosts. i don't understand that quibble from contemporary viewers. there are several on screen suicides with like. specific methods. which is not currently regarded as good filmmaking practice. im curious to know what contemporary audiences thought but couldn't immediately turn anything up, and wading through masters’ theses on cinematic suicide is a little beyond my current mental health.

if i were a more content-minded woman this would turn into a clickbait video essay about the antisemitic origins of every supervillan. however i am unqualified and untalented at video editing and i'm sure there are forty theses on this already. this movie is a hard sell to anyone jewish or employed. it is also a stunning example of cutting-edge film technology and part of the genesis of the modern supervillan. Fritz Lang films tend to fall in the category of “movies i am happy to see once and feel no need to revisit”.

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playing

playing what is effectively the same game three times back to back (breath of the wild, tears of the kingdom, genshin impact) has sort of burned me out on open world games with a focus on battle skill progression and stumbling across little puzzles in the overworld. i have to get itch.io up and running on this pc and find the most linear jankiest possible one-sitting indie thing. or several of them. i might try the solo ttrpg Gentleman Bandit i seem to have acquired in one of the giant charity bundles

brief breath of the wild update bc i don't want to pull screenshots off my switch: i have gotten to the boss fight for the gerudo and goron regions, have not completed them bc my focus in this game is NOT hearts, and am in the middle of the zora temple. despite the quality of life improvements and new regions in totk i think i prefer botw: progression is a bit easier, there are fewer mmo-style hub quests and repeatable quests. things like the stable photos are cute but very repetitive, so are the sign bracing puzzles, and the sky crystal quests for sky shrines feel VERY samey. also dislike how the CLEAR OUT: [REGION] quests with the monster suppression squads reset at the blood moon.

anyway! to genshin! there was an exceptionally fun little event with a surprisingly involved management sim tacked onto the game??? you make and sell potions fulfilling different requirements, and can eventually stock travelling merchants all over the continent. the actual act of making the potions was this block-filling 1010! style thing (screenshot from polygon)

the new region, a port town and tea-growing area called Chenyu Vale, is maybe the prettiest one in the game so far? it's the one that feels the most picturesque and Designed, like this is one huge mansion garden studded with follies. they also added background chatter and noise in the cities and towns, which really startled me and makes them feels much more lived in! this is a fun trick to avoid putting in a thousand NPCs and making everyone's framerate crash. the less stuff in your game, the less shit can go wrong.

also pulled for and got chiyori, a geo-aligned seamstress (and sometime spy???) swordswoman who has what i can only call domme voice

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making

ok now we'll talk about boxes. i was rearranging my kitchen, as unemployed women are known to do, and noticed this recipe box i picked up back in mass was disgusting. the finish is starting to fail but it was genuinely grody and last summer i packed my kitchen in a blind panic inside an hour and did not have time to address it. i have never seen a recipe box at an estate sale before or since and it made me desperately sad.

it was full of a lot of stuff.

i went at it with a somewhat inadvisable combination of things: wood soap didn't budge it, so i dampened a paper towel in vinegar and wiped it down in the vain hope it would do something. the thing that worked, and would be inadvisable for anything veneered or less densely textured, was baking soda paste and the scrubby side of a sponge. it still smells Very musty even after 48h of loose baking soda inside with several changes, but that might be partly the recipe cards' fault. i would like to refinish this at some point but i don't have polyurethane on hand and the fun little project budget is empty until further notice/i get a job.

the hinge did rust a bit despite my best efforts but that has since been lightly steel wooled and oiled. a well loved object! it's possible the lady who died just fucking sucked and that's why literally her entire estate including many other things families usually keep was on sale, but i would like to think perhaps she simply had no other family? a well loved/used object even if all the recipes are for semi-horrifying fifties new england recipes.

the other box, pre-acids but post-washing: this topp trading card box with seven episode one packets of cards was intact with the original seal. i have verified it was not worth much more than the $5 i paid for it with the trading card obsessed man in my best friend's husband's friendgroup. i bought this three months ago but the man was unavailable to open it until uhhh last week. some sort of liquid got inside it at some point and it was super corroded. i was going to store embroidery floss in here but even with all my powers (barkeepers friend. brasso.) i cannot completely remove the corrosion. it's not corroded Through but it looks bad and feels rough. so it goes. it'll probably hold the tiedown straps in my car bc that plastic bucket is rapidly failing

[philcoulsonismyhero]

A thing I've been thinking about a lot as I've been obsessively re-listening to the Rivers of London books on a loop and putting colour coded bookmarks into my paperbacks (in short, being Extremely Autistic about the series) is just how interesting it would be to explore what it would be like to be an autistic wizard in that 'verse.

Like, take vestigia. It's a whole extra category of sensory impressions on top of everything else that you're picking up on, and you only get more sensitive to it the longer you train for. Peter wonders at one point if Nightingale isn't just straight up listening to the magic of the city in order to find out about cases, and even if he isn't doing that he's still got to be picking up on a Huge amount of sense impressions from the magic around him. Would an autistic practitioner be even more sensitive to vestigia? Just how much of a sensory overload trigger would it be, given that it's not a true smell/sound/whatever? Do really skilled practitioners like Nightingale ever get overloaded by just how much they can sense? Would an autistic wizard have to train themselves to shut out their sense of vestigia so they didn't get overwhelmed?

And then there's how you learn magic in the first place, which is a lot of repetition, doing the same thing over and over again until you produce an effect, and then continuing to repeat it until the effect becomes consistent. And you build spells by learning more and more formae, memorising them in the process. Which sounds to me like Such an autism-friendly way of learning to do anything, I fucking love repetition and memorising huge amounts of information.

Also, it's pointed out a bunch of times that Nightingale has almost scary levels of focus. In Broken Homes he spends ages watching CCTV footage, and then a full half hour just staring at the dog batteries at Skygarden. And it's pretty obvious that his level of obsessive focus is what's made him such a powerful wizard, since he's willing to put in the hours of practice, so autistic obsessiveness would be useful too.

(Sidenote, but I'm not sure if I actually think Nightingale is a character I'd read as autistic. He's definitely got a bunch of traits in the right direction, like the single-minded focus, the scary levels of concentration, the things he's very particular about and the way he can miss Peter's sarcasm sometimes, but in his case I think it's more just his personality and training and age, plus all the trauma. But I do think it would be a fun possibility/what-if to explore.)

And when it just comes down to it, I don't think I've ever encountered a magic system that appeals more to the specific way that my brain works than the RoL one, it seems like it would be So fun to learn. Even, tbh especially, the Latin and all the other studying that's also involved. So it does rather entertain me that I've gotten really autistic over a book series that has such an autism-friendly magic system, it feels Good and Correct.

Although. Ben Aaronovitch. My guy. Give me a list of all the formae and how they work, I am Begging you. I've never wanted an in-universe textbook tie-in book as much as I do for this series and Eventually I'm going to get my hands on the TTRPG book and obsess over every little detail of how they've interpreted the magic for that.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

My Little Twinkling Star ~ Ominis Gaunt x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Reader misses her family to the point of crying, but is too afraid of telling Ominis, knowing his bad relationship with his own parents.

It was no news for anyone that Y/N loved her parents more than she loved life itself, almost to the point of obsession. Why? Certainly, no one could really understand. Most of the children her age were attached to their parents, yes, but not like this - Not to the point of crying just thinking about them. And the more the years passed, the harder the separation became. Once again, not even she could understand why - After all, she had the best of friends in Sebastian and Anne, and an absolute angel of a boyfriend in Ominis. Not only that, she loved her time at Hogwarts, the studying, the Professors, the environment, the creatures, the forest; There was not a single thing she disliked about her years spent at Hogwarts... But at the end of the day, she knew she wanted to return back at her home village and be close to her mum and dad.

Now, in her last year of Hogwarts, with the stress from the NEWTS weighting so heavy on her shoulders, she wrote to her mother more than ever before - In fact, if the poor Owl could handle the tedious flight, she would write her parents ten times a day, at the minimum. At some point, she even asked her mum to send her a few Howlers, just to hear her voice, as so many months passed without seeing each other, without feeling her warm, loving touch, or her protective embrace.

It was always late into the night, when sleep refused to visit her, that she’d go to the Common Room, with a calming tea laced with some sleeping draught and honey, that she would listen to the sweet voice of her mother, calling her all sorts of cutesy nicknames, like ‘My little twinkling star’, ‘My precious little angel’ or even ‘My beautiful sweetheart’. 

Of course, she got along very well with her dad too, always playing around and going on adventures, playing games or doing tech-stuff, as he was a muggle carpenter and built everything around their home, including the cozy little cottage all with his own hands... But there was always a special connection with her mum, her guardian angel, her most beloved person alive.

And tonight, like during many other nights, she laid on the couch, hugging the plushie that her mum gifted her on her birthday many years ago, along with the fluffy blanket, and she opened the envelope. A bittersweet smile appeared on her face, hearing that tender voice, telling her words of love, of the mundane, and how much she misses her little twinkling star. Y/N’s face became wet with tears, hugging the plush tighter to her chest and stifling her sobs in the blanket.

Oh, how she wished she could explain what she was feeling, how she wished to talk to someone without sounding pretentious or spoiled. Sebastian and Anne both lost their parents, and her sweet Ominis... He didn’t even want to hear about his dreadful parents. Poppy’s parents were just as awful, and she ran away from them... Though perhaps she would understand, as she loves her grandma as much as she loves her mum... And then there’s Natty, who still blames her father’s death on herself, and she has a little bit of a rebellious state with her mum.

Y/N was so absorbed in her own thoughts, comforted only by the envelope’s voice looping the message over and over again with each flick of her wrist, that she didn’t hear the sound of soft foot steps, until a familiar voice called out her name, confused. “Y/N?” Ominis called out in a soft voice. “O-Oh! Ominis, h-hi! It’s late, why aren’t you sleeping?” she quickly closed the envelope, hiding it underneath the pillow. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get a glass of water.” he explained. “I can only guess you’re pretty much in the same boat as me, huh?” “Y-Yeah... Sort of. I made myself some sleeping draught tea with honey. It’s still a bit warm, if you want some.” she offered, patting the spot on the couch next to her. “Sounds lovely, thanks.” with a soft smile on his face, the boy sat next to her. “I heard your mum’s voice. Is everything okay?” Y/N’s breath was hitched in her throat, unsure of how to answer. “Y/N? Are you okay, my darling?” he asked again, hearing no answer. “Ah, y-yeah, of course, everything is alright, no need to worry. I, uh... I guess I just miss my parents, that’s all. No big deal.” Ominis, however, frowned. He might not be able to see the blatant fidgeting of her body, or the way her eyes were looking everywhere but at him, but her voice was betraying her. “Y/N, come here.” he extended his arms, and by instinct, Y/N cuddled into his embrace, getting herself comfortable and covering the both of them with the blanket. “Please, tell me what’s bothering you. I’ve heard you crying on a couple of occasions - And it’s not only me worried, but Anne and Sebastian too.” he tenderly caressed her hair. “Is it the gossips from those nasty girls? Because, if it is, I don’t want to hear any of that. I won’t accept you agreeing to some low-lives degrading you for your softer nature. I have told you once, and I will tell you again - Your emotions are endearing, and the fact that your love for the people you care for is so strong that’s overflowing... I think it’s beautiful.” “Ominis...” she whispered his name in disbelief, feeling his hands softly make their way to her face and wiping away her tears. “It’s a selfish reason, I don’t... I don’t want to bother you with it. It’s really... It’s really silly, you know?” “Is it exam stress, then?” the boy could feel her head nodding at first, only to shake just after. “So not only that.” “I just... I just really miss my mum, okay? I know, it’s a stupid reason to cry. It’s very, very stupid. But I just want to go home, and... And hug my mum, and joke around with dad, and play with my puppy, and be in the comfort of my own home... If it makes any sense at all.” she sighed deeply. “I’m stressed from the exams, yes, but... I don’t know why I’m so emotional. I thought I was getting older, tougher, more mature... Instead, I’m just turning into a huge weeping mess. It’s... It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous!” she gritted her teeth in exasperation. “I have the perfect life with my family, and I feel like I’m selfish if I cry about it, when people like you are one step away from being estranged for not sharing the same bigoted beliefs as your family, or -- Or Sebastian and Anne, whose parents died... Or Poppy who ran away from her criminal parents... I just... I don’t want to burden you with my silly, makeshift problems... Because they aren’t even problems, I’m just being a spoiled brat.”

Ominis was silent for a few seconds, before pulling Y/N into a sweet kiss, and smiling at her like the loving angel that he is. “Now, now, didn’t I ask you to tell me, whenever something bothers you? Even the little things? You missing your family is included, you silly little lady.” he chuckled softly. “It’s not your fault that my family sucks. In fact, I think your family is more my family than my own family ever was. Didn’t your mum say two years ago that I’m as good as her son?” his smile widened. “I’d say, I miss your family too.” “R-Really? You do?” Ominis nodded affirmatively. “Then, after we finish Hogwarts, would you like to move in with me, in the same village? A pretty little cozy cottage, just the two of us, in the comfort of a familiar and very friendly village - Which so happens to be rather close to Sebastian’s?” “Ahh, you want the world to explode, don’t you? If the four of us are reunited after Hogwarts ends, then no doubt, bad things will happen. Either the end of the world, or... Erh... Sometimes similar.” Ominis joked. “But I do fancy that idea, I can’t lie, especially if I get to taste more of your mum’s cookies or meals. They were positively fantastic.” “Ominis.” Y/N abruptly murmured his name. “It was me who baked the cookies.” “Even better!” he exclaimed in surprise. “I just have to wife you now, and it’s all good. Everything is going according to the plan.” If only he could see the heavy blush painted on her cheeks - Though Y/N suspected he could feel the warmth at least, as the cheeky grin never did leave his face. “Ah, you got all quiet, have I flustered you so? Forgive me, my little twinkling star. Just wait a bit more, until we’ve graduated, and I can get you a proper ring, beautiful, to match your own charm.” Y/N had to bury her face in the crook of his neck from embarrassment. “It’s times like this when I’m really upset I can’t see. I would do anything to see that look on your pretty face.” he just won’t give her and her beating heart any break, will he?  “Ominis, you’re embarrassing me!” she finally managed to whine.  “I might have done that, but at least you’re not upset anymore, so I don’t regret anything. After all, I meant every word I said.” he rose her face, just enough to place his forehead against her own. “The love you have for all of us is magnetic. It’s absolutely beautiful. It’s what attracted me most to you. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life, and I never want to lose you. All jokes aside, I hope you will actually come to me, no matter what silly thing bothers you so. I can feel when you’re upset, just as you always could with me. We are connected, the two of us, didn’t you say that - Remember, when you touched my wand, and you said you felt happy? That you felt a comforting warmth take over you? That’s what I feel whenever I’m with you. Any bit of sadness I have, simply disappears. Do you know why?” “Why?” Y/N dared to speak, though her whole being was frozen from all the heart-warming words addressed her way. “Because I love you.”

[insect-library]

Little Angel ☆

chapter 1

little!Angel and cg!Husk

Notes: first time writing in like,,, 4ever?? Sooo be nice to me. <3 (taking constructive criticism)

Word count: around 800

A small yawn came from Angels room as he woke up. The combination of a headache and dizziness from a night full of drinking had kept him from staying fully awake. After a few times of refusing to wake up, he finally decided to rise from his plush bed to feed his pig, and get some food for the morning.

Angel had been in a loop all week. Hed be pretty great all day, talking to Husk, sometimes others. But when night came hed get sensitive, tired, and more uncomfortable with his usual activities. Hed brush it off as an episode or some side effect of a drug, but now hed actually started worrying about it. It seemed strange that this came after telling Husk about Val, and the comfortable night of talking with him that came after. He noticed that he became generally happier around Husk, talking with his hands more and going on about things he loved. This was very unusual for him and had worried him for the days following.

Angel finally snapped out of his thoughts when he saw exactly who hed been thinking about, Husker.

"Mornin' sleeping beauty" Husk scoffed

"Good morning asshole" Angel said, passing him to exit the hotel, a bit happier than he was previously.

There was that feeling again, hed noticed the need to flap his hands when he passed Husk. He felt happy as if hed won something, but he'd just greeted his friend. It made no sense to him, but he continued on with the day anyways.

After grabbing some food at a small cafe, he started his walk to the hotel. Noticing all the small details of the pride ring. The people, the billboards, all of it was so harsh and overwhelming. It made him feel scared. But why would he feel scared? He had been here for what felt like forever, why now had it started overwhelming him? He didnt know the answer to anything, but he knew he needed to get to the hotel and into his room as soon as he could.

Angel ran through the door with his food, and ran right past everyone downstairs without greeting anybody. The second he got to his room he slammed the door and jumped into bed, hugging his stuffed animals and hiding in blankets. After a short minute, he heard a knock and a voice at the door.

"Angel? Are you okay? What happened?"

It was Charlie. Who, dont get him wrong angel loves her to death, but she wasnt going to be any help.

"MMmn!"

It wasnt anything anyone could point out as a word, but the noise made it clear he didnt want her there. He heard her walk off. But heard more footsteps and eventually another knock at his door.

"Angel? What happened? Whyre you whinin' at Charlie?"

It was Husk, and Angel was even more embarrassed than with Charlie. Husk had been so nice and Angel felt guilt having him see him acting like a child, thought he couldnt exactly control it.

"I think i know whats going on, if youll let me in i could help ya" Husk spoke very softly, not letting anyone but Angel hear him.

Angel considered it, and decided that having Husk around while hes like this is better than being alone. He walked hunched over to the door and opened it, dragging Husk into the small room.

"Whats goin on'?!" Angel mumbled

"You told me about Val right? And how you had been more upset lately?"

"Uhnhuh.. why does that matter?" Angel was getting a little impatient.

"Well i was interested in what you talked about. I had looked at a few things and all your little 'quirks' and that shit sounds a bit like something i found" Husk answered

Angel was listening very intently, but slowly understanding a bit less of the bigger thoughts and only gathering a small amount of information from husk.

"Its called uhrm.. age.. regression?" Husk sounded it out, making sure to get the term right

"Its a way your brain uh.. keeps you sane basically."

Angel had heard about regression, but always took it as a voluntary thing. He never took it as something hed be helped by, especially not without knowing.

"Woah" Angel whispered

He was noticing things that lined up with what Husk said, and had started genuinely thinking about the term and how it applies to him.

Husk stayed the rest of the afternoon to look after Angel, and explain some more about agere to him. They had talked and played and sat around until pretty late, and Husk decided to go to bed.

"Okay, goodnight Angel. Im glad you learned some stuff today. Sleep well"

Angel smiled at Husk, waved goodnight, and went to bed happy, something he wasn't exactly familiar with.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 397: Cat n Mouse, p8 (Interlude: Monkey Business)

Randi Mongillo had let herself into the side door of the building which housed what was, still, for now,  Far Horizons Medical Associates. The building was dark but it was not empty; below ground, men stirred. The lights flickered on as she strode the hallways of the old practice and made her way through it, to the main elevator in the new atrium. Once inside she punched in the code into the newly installed keypad before hitting the button for Sub-Basement 3  where all their little monkeys lived.

Randi did not want to be here, and anyone could read that off her face. In general she wasn't a big fan of being told what to do, and hated the idea of being anyone's lackey. If anyone else had asked her to leave home, drive to work at night just so they could have their own personal cleanup service she would have told them to shove it. Missy though…Missy was different. She’s dumb as a brick, don't get me wrong, Randi would tell you, but she’s also…kinda the heart of everything. Randi owed her a lot - for this job, for a lot of her own personal ‘improvements’, for her position in what looked to be shaping up into a new society  - which made it pretty hard to say no to her, even when she really wanted to. Like tonight.

I could really go for another bliss right now. Missy blowing that little fucker could really take the edge off, Randi thought just as the elevator reached its destination and the doors began to open. She’d grown used to her evenings being peppered with bliss. It would come on in waves, crashing into her and making her more, more, more every night. The echoes of that twerp making their world just a little bit better would ripple through her body as she felt him give in to his urges, give in to Melissa. It was honestly the best, and - if she had to admit it - kind of addictive.

Randi walked out into Sub-Basement 3 and through a few metal detectors before holding up her Evolution Pharmaceuticals supplied keycard and entering the door into the administrative area of ‘the Barracks.’ Randi looked out from behind bulletproof reinforced glass on to the ‘residents’ of this little ‘community’ of males (at least that was what they were calling it officially. To Randi and most of the girls, Sub-Basement 3 was “The Fap Dungeon”).

The large communal room in front of her was filled with them, men of various ages, some in their old clothes, some in the brown coveralls that had been purchased for them as a kind of simple uniform for manual laborers. They were  largely the construction workers who had been working on the expansion, with a handful of homeless and the odd pathetic loner thrown in. They were all aimlessly milling about, huddling in small groups, or watching the tv's on the walls. The teaser interview for Channel 5 had obviously been put on loop, and it was playing over and over and over again. Many couldn't keep their eyes off it. The pathetic, braindead little zombies, Randi sniggered. If she were to listen closely she might be able to hear some of them quietly moaning or whining. Some others were repeating little mantras as they watched, over and over…

Randi walked up to the microphone at the front of the security booth. Looking out into the crowd of them, she noticed that many had shaved their heads. She also knew the place was empty of any female staff. There was security that was going to be assigned here, part of the group of girls that was supposed to start next week. In the meantime, Randi figured it might be smart not to cause a riot.

But, fuck it right? I mean…where's the fun in that? If I have to be here dealing with these apes I might as well have a bit of fun with it. Give them something to really live for.

Randi hit the button to activate the intercom with an unnaturally wide and unnerving smile spread across her face.

“Hey shit stains!” Randi yelled into the intercom causing an awful howling sound as the intercom crackled to life with the power of her voice. “Yeah, I'm talking to you douchebags. I need some of you to come with me and clean up a mess outside. Any volunteers?”

Her eyes shone in amusement as she watched the group en masse, all these ‘big strong men’ shrink away from her and avert their gazes. These simps, breathing in all these artificial pheromones of Melissa’s pumped directly onto the floor were just too predictable, so easy to manipulate.

“Aww, are you guys too tired? Is going outside just too difficult? Too scary?” she asked snidely. She had used up the last drop of her patience much earlier today. Otherwise she might have at least a dollop of pity for these saps. “That’s fine. I guess I can find someone else to clean Melissa’s house.”

That got their attention.

Randi watched as all their eyes shot up. Melissa, these days, was the person they thought about the most. In fact, Randi knew she was almost all they thought about. Any man here would give his left nut just for the chance to get closer to Melissa, to be helpful to her, to be noticed. The other nut they’d save for a touch, or just a smile, but they’d give themselves willingly for this woman that was beginning to become something more than human in their eyes.

They, in fact, would do anything.

“I thought one of you would give a shit about her. Oh well, guess I'll be going now-”

“Wait!” The panicked voices of one of the men cried out as he ran forward, towards Randi’s glass enclosure. He was raising his hand. “I’ll go!”

“M-me too!”

“Me too!”

“What are you talking about?” one of them argued with the other, “Everyone knows you can't do shit! I should go.”

“Fuck you! I should go!”

Randi watched as the room erupted in an all-out brawl, each fighting for the opportunity to clean up Melissa’s little fuck session at her mom’s house while she put her boyfriend to bed. It was honestly hilarious. 

Blood was spilled and teeth were lost as they fought amongst themselves for a few minutes. Soon enough, though, Randi became bored. Watching them kick the shit out of each other was fun and all, but honestly, she just wanted to get the fuck out of here and maybe get the chance to go home and sleep.

Randi opened the reinforced door that separated the security chamber from the common area and walked into the room. She grabbed three of the men from the grand melee and pulled them out into the hallway before anyone else could notice. Then she went back in and picked off several more until she was satisfied.

“Alright you clods are it, ‘the chosen ones’,” she said, sarcasm probably lost on the doltish males in their excitement, “You,  beardy - you can drive? You’ll take one of the construction vans. They’ve got tools, right? I’ll drive in my car, you follow me. We’ll get in there, you’ll clean stuff up, and you’ll fix whatever you can.”

“Ummm…” one of them began, looking suddenly embarrassed to speak, “we’re driving by ourselves?”

Oh yeah, oh crap. Pheromones. They know they’ll need me with them. “Fine. I’ll drive the fucking van.” Means I’ll need to leave my car here. 

The men nodded appreciatively, as if excited for the opportunity.

“And, when we’re there, don't you dare make a fucking sound you hear me? She’ll be upstairs resting.  If any of you does anything to draw attention to yourselves, or disturb her,  I’ll bite your fucking head off, kick you out onto the streets myself. Got it?”

“Y-yes Ms. Mongillo,”  one of them spoke up while the others silently nodded. “t-thank you for recognizing us, and giving us the chance to-”

“Pfft-  You aren’t special, you're just the closest ones I could grab. Plus, you’re men. You’re all basically the same anyway, weak, shit for brains. Now shut up and let’s get going so maybe at some point I can go to bed.”

==========================================

sorry for the delay, tumblr. been away.

thanks to ResistanceIsFutile for writing this one; it’s really his baby.

[wannab-urs]

Gin's 2023 sappy post

It's hard for me to believe that at the beginning of this year, I didn't know a single one of my best friends in the world existed. But it's true!

How we got here

I'm not quite sure exactly when I started looking up Pedro Pascal on Tumblr, but it was sometime after February. I'd watched Game of Thrones and Oberyn was my favorite character, but I was in one of my periods of not being on Tumblr (I've had this account for about 10 years, but it's seen many fandoms and I haven't always been active).

I watched the first few episodes of The Last of Us that had come out - I was 3 episodes behind I think - and immediately looked up Joel Miller on Tumblr. How could I not? Anyway, give me ten minutes on this hellsite and a middle aged man with a huge imdb and watch me develop a hyperfixation.

So then I looked up interviews. I watched basically every interview this man ever did, but I remember that the Lie Detector interview and his appearance on the Talk Easy podcast are really what did me in. I went from admiring this man as an actor and thinking he's pretty to basically being in love with him.

Anyways....

I didn't mean to start reading fanfic? I come from the world of Destiel on AO3. I never wrote it, I just read copious amounts of it. I'd never read reader insert, much less straight reader insert, and I'd never written a word of anything even resembling a fanfiction.

But I found @prolix-yuy, @frannyzooey, @joelscruff, @fuckyeahdindjarin, and @ezrasbirdie (check the spreadsheet, y'all are at the very top!) and I was hooked.

Then I read Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat and Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried and was inspired to parade my trauma around in a Dieter shaped trench coat: AGOY was born.

@beskarandblasters is the first person I really talked to on here. In fact, Kel is the one who introduced me to most of my friends on here. And we've been harassing each other on the daily since. I hope to 🦵 her in real life someday soon ❤️. I love you, bitch. You mean the world to me.

I could never ever ever list all of my dear friends I've made on here. Seriously, there are so many of you that mean the world to me. But I'm gonna list a few.

My cannibal crew @pr0ximamidnight and @atinylittlepain, without whom Love as Violence Dave (starving season), Head up his Ass Javi (in the a.m.), and the later editions of loser druggie Dieter (AGOY) would not exist - or at least they wouldn't be as good as they are.

My darling soup snake, the loml, my spider twin, my forever partner in making bitches cry (it's us, we're bitches, making each other cry in an endless loop) @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. #1 AGOY stan forever, you may love my own magnum opus more than I love it. Thanks for listening to me scream about every pedro boy on the planet and thanks for screaming right back at me. I love you.

The random college student I found by accident, decided to take under my wing, and then was subsequently taken under their wing bc it turns out they have more fandom experience and life advice than I can ever hope to have @idolatrybarbie. Bea, my darling, thanks for always letting me bitch, for showing me fics I never thought I'd be into (The Santa Claus AU Frankie Morales Free Use Kink, anyone) but that I often was into, for encouraging my writing, and for being fucking real with me.

The pedrostories crew, but especially @pedrorascal - I love screaming about Pedro with you at... 2:30 in the morning my time (we love time zones!). Thanks for letting me be a terrible mod for your fic archive blog and never getting mad at me for not doing my job. And for being a wonderful, kind, amazing person all the fucking time.

I'm being so serious when I say I could list at least 20 more people. People who brightened my day with a reblog or a message. Or who wrote a fic I still think about at least once a week. Or who made a gifset that is permanently etched into my brain. People I talked to in discords and most likely trauma dumped on and they listened and they cared and they let me hold their trauma in return. I love you guys so fucking much.

Conclusion

I never could have imagined I'd be a writer and run a fic rec blog at 24. Especially not for Pedro Pascal Characters. But here we are -- and I can honestly say it has been the highlight of my year. And I bought a house this year.

I have so many new friends and a new hobby (I never wrote at all before this) just because I wanted to Fuck That Old Man. Incredible.

[waffles-art-writing]

Music Is An Escape, So Is Touch - Ghost!Platonic x Fem!Reader (JOKER)

Summary: The quiet night of finding a place to listen to your music by yourself, turns into a night of soft music and a comforting presence by the one person you would never expect.

Proofread: Nope - Well kinda… not really.

Pairing: Task Force 141!Platonic x Fem!Reader - Kinda more a Ghost!Platonic x Fem! Reder

WordCount: 2.8k

Age Rating: Any

Codename: JOKER. ( Part 1 - Part 2 )

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: PTSD, smidge of trauma, Fluffy Fluff, self esteem issues and self image issues.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has shown interest in this little series! And for everyone’s support of my writing! It means a lot. :) also I kinda stick with the design of Ghost from the comics and stuff for this one. I may also draw something related to JOKER and the 141 if y’all are interested. :)

Taglist: @boogieman-23 (Tell me if you want to be in Tag list for this series)

——————————————————

You weren’t one to openly share your things, music, earphones or headphones, or anything really. Unless you really had to, like they were going to suffer without them. But when it comes to music, everyone kinda just looks at you like you’re some weird person when you say you don’t want to share. ‘What do you listen to preschool songs on loop all day?’ Your friends - albeit your ex-friends - would joke, causing you to curl in on yourself even more when it came to choosing music for a road trip, party, or a group study session. Which more likely turned into a bitch talk and boy talk get together, which you didn’t mind but it did affect your grades at times.

When it comes to the rare time that it is quiet on base, being able to be by yourself. Unbothered by Soap’s pestering or Gaz’s questions, or even Price requesting you to help train some poor sod who fainted when they saw Ghost lurking in the shadows. You were able to find a quiet spot, plug your earphones into your phone and just listen to your music. It’s almost like an escape from the hellish reality that is life, it allows you to block out all the voices in your head that tell you everything that is bad about yourself, nit-pick at everything you do.

Your footsteps are quiet as you walk across base, the night air cold in your lungs, it stings every so slightly, but it is soothing. Better than the burning fire fire that is crackling within you most days from the anxiety and the stomach churning memories of the day you ran for your life, silently wishing you could’ve just been shot there and then, and not have to deal with the prying eyes of every woman or man that works at the base you’re currently stationed at.

Your hands are burrowed deep in your hoodie pocket, wrapped around your phone and tangled mess of earphones, Price allowed you to have your phone for music while in the medical wing. Thankfully he didn’t mind you having it outside of that white tiled, chemical filled building. The same building you have silently committed to the ‘Buildings I will burn before I die’ list. It ranks pretty high.

You peek around the large building, looking to see if anyone is out and about, it’s spring, so it’s not too cold but still chilly. The floodlights are on, the bright light beaming down on a few people outside, some talking others playing a game of some sort. You couldn’t tell from the distance you’re at, you’re on the outskirts of the base, skirting around the lights and populated areas. You may have a scarf on to bury your face in but you’re not going to risk being seen.

You quickly make your way across an open area of the base, dashing towards the low stone wall that runs between the residential area of the base and the more tactical and defensive area. You see the small lights of the runway glow in the distance, a few military vehicles scattered around, one behind you thankfully. You sit on the low stone wall, your feet dangling like a child on a chair, swinging them slightly to keep the chill at bay.

Your fingers work on the tangled mess of your earphones, the rubbery cord becoming an annoyance. Your phone still resides in your pocket, waiting to be switched on. You sigh as you tug at the black and red cord, hoping you’re not damaging the wires inside. After a few minutes, which felt like hours, you finally get the cord untangled, sighing with relief when you plug them in and can hear the music easily.

“Finally” you sigh, tipping your head back, eyes closed. You lean on your hands, fingers clutching the uneven surface of the stone wall. Your eyes flutter open to look up at the stars, the shinny twinkling dots, they could’ve died but we just don’t know yet. The light from them still reaches us before the darkness of the night sky swallows them, drowning them in the dark blues and purples of space.

The music plays softly, drowning out the breeze, the distant chatter from the people outside, the crickets and other night animals that lurk outside of the base. You’re not really paying attention to the music, but more to the stars, trying to find the constellations that hide amongst the other stars. Your mind finally quiet, no inner voice berating you, making you want to crawl under a rock and die. Not making you feel like everyone is staring at you, looking down on you, making you feel miserable and lonely. Just peace and quiet, almost tranquil.

A noise, a sharp baritone noise sounds out from your right.

Fear bubbles in your veins, hands ripping the earphones from your ears harshly, causing a slight wince. You head snapping to the side, eyes scanning the darkness, hands pushing on the wall ready for your fight or flight instinct to kick in. Flight is almost winning when you see the outline of a figure, tall and broad, clearly powerful.

“It’s just me, Kid.” The Manchester accent of your Lieutenant pierces the night air, your lungs that were on fire now simmer down to a low flame, eyes once wide now lowered. Your hands loosen on the rocks, picking at the rough surface as you bury your face into the warm scarf around your neck. You sigh as you see Ghost’s boots enter your vision, warmth is radiating off him like a large fire, it’s comforting when you know who is next to you. “Sorry if I scared you, Joker.” The timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, you just know he is looking at you with his cold and calculating eyes, a frown probably pasted on his lips under the dark mask.

“It’s fine…” You pause, breathing in deeply, trying to find your voice. “Just didn’t expect to see ya out here is all.” Ghost just hums in acknowledgment, the same deep sound rippling the air around you. He’s sitting next to you, his feet firmly planted on the ground, his arms folded as he leans into the metal side of the large armoured vehicle behind you two. He seems at ease, quaint, almost peaceful.

You glance up at him, he’s still stiff as a board, no surprise there. You look away, looking out over the runway and open space, your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, clearly seeing the faint outline of the mountains in the distance.

“What were you listening to?” The man next to you asks, his voice low, trying to keep the peaceful atmosphere around you. You glance over your shoulder at him, in question for a moment. The large man is looking at you, motioning with his hand to your pocket, to your phone. “Oh uh… nothing that you’ll know of” you mumble, trying to avoid having to share your music. “I’m sure I would’ve heard of it, at least.” He replies, he doesn’t sound annoyed, just sounds tired, you can’t blame him. So are you, you’re beyond exhausted, sleep deprived.

“It’s uh… it’s ‘It is so’ by Elevation Worship” you finally state, after checking the screen of your phone, it’s at the 3.36 mark, just over halfway through the song. Ghost tilts his head slightly, trying to decipher why you’re so closed off about your music, he’s pushing his own boundaries when it comes to you. Becoming more open, concerned, approachable.

“Haven’t heard that one” his voice brings your mind out of the dark cloud that looms over your head, the voice taunting you with insults and remarks about your music, saying no one likes it. “Not many have… at least I don’t think. I like it…” you state, bringing your knees to your chin, balancing on the wall with ease. Your phone and earphones are still tucked away in your pocket, music paused and waiting to be listened to.

“Mind if I listen?” He asks, adjusting himself on the wall to lean forward onto his elbows, trying to see your expression. But there’s no need. You look at him, face hidden behind the scarf - apart from your eyes up - your brows are furrowed with hesitation. “Wha-” you cut yourself short when you realise your staring at him, I mean he stares at you why can’t you stare at him? But it’s still rude to stare.

“I guess yeah, I just didn’t peg you to be into this type of music.” You mumble as you dig around for your phone, Ghost lets out a short huff of air. A chuckle? “Well I don’t know what it sounds like, so I can’t say anything.” Your face blanks when you realise that he’s right, if he hasn’t heard the song, he can’t have an opinion on it.

You tap your screen dragging the song back to the beginning, handing an earphone to Ghost, who in turn accepts. You pause for a moment, how is he going to put it in when he’s got his mask on? “I can uh turn around for you to put it in… yea I’ll do that” to stumble with your words, feeling horrible for giving it to him when he would have to lift his mask when he’s so careful that no one would or could see his face. A mumble ‘thanks’ comes from him when you turn your head away, your eyes skipping across the different stones you can see in the limited moonlight. The moon is only a quarter full, very little light is shining down on the earth.

Your mind is miles away when you feel Ghost tap your shoulder lightly. He’s been calling your name for a few moments now, he was worried you might have fallen asleep. You flinch and turn to look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “You okay?” You nod your head, looking down at your phone and following the black and red cord up to where it disappears under the skull balaclava. “Just lost in thought is all.” You mumble as you fiddle with your phone, turning the music on and putting the other earbud in.

(I suggest to listen to the song: It Is So - Elevation Worship)

You sit there, eyes towards the sky, watching them attentively. Mind mumbling within your head as you get comfortable with Ghost’s presence, his warmth that’s radiating next to you. You hear him shift, probably just getting comfortable.

Ghost is content, interested in the meaning behind the lyrics. Slowly connecting the dots between the song and you, he watches as your eyes watch the stars. He has this little warm feeling bubbling in him, happy you’re not scared of him, happy to not hide in on yourself, happy you’re opening up to him. He’s happy.

You sigh as you pay more and more attention to the lyrics, your head dropping, eyes looking at your lap, tracing the camo pattern of your cargo pants. Hands fiddling with a pebble you found on the wall, trying to get your mind away from the tingling feeling that’s forming behind your eyes. Your eyes flutter close, a single tear rolls down your cheek. You're wishing, hoping, begging that Ghost can’t see it or hear how your throat is tightening and choking the breath from you. You don’t want to disturb the tranquillity you two have. But to your demise you sniffle.

Warmth envelopes your hands, not rough material of gloves but the rough calluses of Ghost’s hand. You turn your hand over, threading your fingers with his. His grip is tight as you feel him rub small circles on the back of your hand. He’s moved closer. His shoulder touching yours lightly, he could practically see you shutting down, curling in on yourself. Knowing how it is when you’re left to your own thoughts. He’s been there and done that many times. He doesn’t push you to do anything, just allows you to grip his hand like it’s your life line.

You turn to hide your face into his shoulder, your mind is taking in the lyrics and playing them through your memories, new and old. A small sob leaves you, your forehead is pressing into his shoulder. You’re beyond thankful that he’s here with you, supporting you in his own way.

Ghost stays quiet, allowing you to feel the emotions, he knows he could do more but he doesn’t know how. He’s stuck in his own mind more times than ever, he knows your pain. He’s taking a large step by holding your hand, especially without his gloves, knowing you just needed something to ground you past the music. His own chest aches ever so slightly when he feels you lean into him more, he adjusts slightly, letting go of your hand to tuck you into his side more. His hand coming to rest on your arm, keeping you close, he rests his chin on your head. Breathing slowly, silently encouraging you to match him.

Your hands grip his jacket, hands curling around the thick material. “I’m here kid, just breathe.” His voice low as he mumbles into your hair, you keep your face hidden in his shoulder, your breathing slowing as you focus on his breath. “That’s it.” You let out a shaky breath, not thinking about moving as you stay tucked up to him.

“Thank you…” you whisper, looking up at Ghost. He shakes his head lightly, his hand coming up to move some hair from your face. “I’m always here for you.” He mumbles, he dips his head resting his forehead on yours, luckily he’s just wearing the plain black balaclava and not the one with the hard skull. The skull would’ve hurt.

You stay like that for a few moments, listening to each other's breathing, foreheads pressed together. Your eyes flutter open meeting his, dark molten chocolate eyes surrounded by the dark greasey paint. You smile slightly at the feeling of his thumb brushing over the scars that paint your cheeks, his touch is feather light. “Don’t blame yourself alright? Or I’ll have to put you on cleaning duty for a week, copy?” He lightly sneers, his tone holding a hint of sarcasm. “Copy that L.T” you smirk. “Atta’ girl.” He quips, his mask shifting, eyes squinting slightly from his hidden smile.

The Ghost smiled, smiled with you.

[multifanatics]

The Biggest Blow to One's Ego // General!Edward Nygma x F!Riddler

A/N: I wrote this ages ago and was not originally going to post it.

Warnings: OOC Edward Nygma(?), SMUT, PURE SMUT. First person POV, Probably more.

Word Count: 2179

“Oh fuck — you naughty.. naughty girl.” Riddler groans as he watches my body, my breasts and bra slowly being exposed. Sending the Riddler nudes while he was working was my first mistake. Telling him he had to finish his project before he could touch me was my second. Currently he had me undressing, watching me reveal myself. He wasn’t watching for his pleasure, oh no, he has too big an ego for that. Riddler was watching for any reason to punish me, I’ve learned this. 

“My intellect outmatches my body, meaning I do not require these physical ministrations. Yet here you are desperate to fuck me, while I make you wait.” Eddie kept his clothes on, not concerning himself with the noticeable bulge that tented his pants and the way I clouded his thoughts. Riddler was a tease, he needed me to know I am inferior. Having sex with Edward Nygma was the lowest blow to someone’s ego, nearly everyone’s except his. I watched as he meticulously shifted his weight on his feet, he was growing impatient. 

“I understand.” 

“No, you don’t. You send these images expecting no consequences. My dear, this world does not revolve around you, nor does it bend to your command much less does Gotham. If I were any other man you sent yourself too I would have fucked you hard and been done. Luckily for you I am the Riddler, and I will force you to scream out my name. I will make you beg for me.” I kept undressing while listening to his words, if there was a lesson I missed it. Eddie had no idea how distracting he was which was surprising. I threw my shirt to the floor after it came off my head, then worked on my pants before I felt a warm breath on my neck, hands resting on my hips from behind. 

“P-please?” I turned around to face him before I was about to get on my knees. Riddler simply said nothing and rather his actions speak for him, he pushed me to a wall. 

“Please? Please what?” There was an edge to his voice, something he did not want to be discovered. Maybe a desperation of his own body betraying his overly intelligent mind. 

“Please! Please fuck me, make me your pretty little slut.” Riddler breaks out in laughter before pulling away from his closeness, his hands removing themselves from my shoulders. 

“Such a desperate attempt.” Riddler found how needy I could be humorous, it was a major ego boost he would drag out as long as possible. 

“You haven’t even attempted to touch me and assume I would fuck you. My dear, this.. this is not how it works.” Eddie leans in close, his body mere centimeters from mine. His lips ghosting mine an attempt to show who has the higher ground. I thought over his words and leaned forward, closing the gap and connecting our lips. 

“You're too predictable, try again.” Eddie pulls back from the desperate attempt of a kiss. Riddler placed his hands on my shoulders redoing the scene before I kissed him. I thought about possible outcomes willing to try once again until I got it right, just for him to do something about the unbearable heat in my core. My hands went from my sides and hooked into his trousers waistband, I tried to pull him as close as humanly possible before noticing he wasn’t moving.

“Weak. Must you be so unoriginal?” He set up the scenario once more. I did the one thing I thought he would have predicted, I temporarily stripped his control away from him. I hooked myself to him in a way that forced our positions to change, he was the one with his back to the wall while I kissed him. He kissed back his hands undoing my pants while I worked on his. I finally got to the reaction he was looking for, something that threw him through a very quick loop. Eddie worked off the rest of my clothes while I helped him out of his, he had been a tease all night. Ever since those damned photos I sent. 

“My dear, you have no idea what I could do to you and your self-esteem.” That was the closest to an I love you Eddie ever got. He said it once before as a slip up, his emotions were well under his control. What would make him lose grasp of such simple words? To this day one of the greatest riddles he ever gave me. Once he finished undressing he quickly switched positions again, not saying another word. I placed my lips to his and tried to wrap my legs around his waist, the soft groan that escaped his lips forced me to hide a smile. Eddie’s hands quickly found their way to keep me stable, while he found his way inside of me. I let out a long moan as he pushed all the way in too slow, making me want to beg for him. Tell him I need him to pleasure me, my plan all along. 

“I ne-“ 

“Shut up.” Eddie demanded as he pulled himself all the way out only to bottom out yet again. He found a pace that would have me begging for him, the slow drag of his hard cock against my walls. 

“I only want to hear how I make you feel. Such a dirty slut to have me like this, aren’t you?” 

“Riddler, you feel so good.” I unintentionally moan and clamp down around him. Feeling the pleasure crash over him like a wave he slows his movements to the point he is barely moving at all. 

“Please! I want.. No, I need you to annihilate me. I beg of you.” I pleaded as if my life depended on it, he was horrible with how far he would go to tease me. I would have been used to this by now if it weren’t for my desperate need for him. I knew he would give into his own primal needs some time soon.  He kept me around him for a reason, I was dating him for a reason. 

“So desperate.” Riddler gave into his needs and mine. His slow dragging became quick snaps of his hips, he switched his speed mid thrust causing me to moan out. He changed his pace so quickly I felt my head spinning, dizzy, incapable of focusing on his thrusts. The way he hit all my spots and could have me cumming in seconds. 

“Riddler! Fuck!” 

“Such a dirty mouth on you, my slut.. maybe I’ll allow you to suck me dry.” If I could tell him, if he would give me a moment to catch up with reality.. my head grows lighter as Riddler adds his lips to mine while his hand comes to choke me. His hand clamped down hard enough to add pain to the pleasure and enough to make the kiss the reason I had difficulty breathing. Riddler didn’t stop, he was incapable of it, this fed his ego and control too much. It made him feel good, not just physically but mentally too. Eddie knew I was under him, his every last movement was in his control he could stop randomly just to see how I reacted. He fed on every last moan, mewl, cry, etc that fell from my lips. 

“EDDIE!” I yell out as he stops his movements. Pulling back from the kiss and stopping his thrusts midway into me. 

“This lesson you never learn. This memory you cannot keep. Yet, I am the reason for your happiness. What am I?” Riddler was naked, deep within me, his lover. His lips brushed against my neck as he spoke his riddle, I didn’t have time to assess the consequences of not getting the riddle right. 

“It’s either death or birth.” I answer. I try my hardest to understand his words, to get my bearings about me. Clearly he found the answer he was looking for as he continued his quick thrusts almost immediately after I answered his riddle. His forearm rested against the wall for his support and his other was wrapped around my lower half to keep me up. His lips found my neck suckling and biting my sensitive skin, trailing down my neck to my collarbone bone before dragging his teeth over the wet line he created. He drove me out of my mind, absolutely insane. Riddler had me crying out for him to let me cum. 

“Not yet, my darling. I have not had my fun.” It looked and sounded like he was having fun or maybe it was my fuzzy brain unable to focus. By the sound of it he was going to fuck my brains out, make me a babbling mess that is unable to answer a riddle for his own meanings. 

“P…please!!” I yell trying not to mumble, begging him to let me cum. I let him edge me.. No, he let me edge myself. That was the lesson, I was in his complete and utter control. His power and dominance was a gift, his body was a gift. He could see it in my face, he pulled out, releasing me from the wall forcing me into the bedroom so he could have his ‘fun.’ I followed him even though I felt my legs would give out while I walked. He threw me onto the bed without a care in the world for anyone’s well being other than his. The change in scenery seemed to lift his mood, this was where he was going to enjoy himself. 

“You do not deserve me. Do you understand?” Eddie asked climbing over my weak form. I knew consciously that it was an act, something to arouse me as it had worked. Though it felt so personal as if he meant it genuinely. Maybe I didn’t deserve him. 

“I am waiting for your answer…” he said, growing impatient. 

“I think I do.” My voice gave away my emotions about his previous words. Riddler disregarded my words and kissed my lips before positioning my leg over his hip. Eddie dragged himself back into me, finding a comfortably quick place. Riddler’s hips snapped back and forth. 

“You do not deserve my cock.” He groans, feeling my walls clench hard around his cock. 

“Agh…” Riddler groans deep within his chest knowing he was nearing his own edge. He wasn’t proud nor impressed of how long I had been holding out for him, but he was glad I did even if he wouldn’t admit it. Eddie kisses under my ear before whispering a demand. 

“Now, cum now.” I fall into my ecstasy while Riddler cums as well. The combination nearly knocked me off center, Riddler rode through our orgasms. When he pulled out I detached my lips from his body as I admired my work, his deep purple markings that nearly matched the ones on my own. 

“I’m not done with you.” He announces taking a second to catch his breath. He got off the bed while I followed him to position myself. 

“Suck.” I promptly got to work. My tongue tracing the underside of his cock I tasted our mixed juices, the salty and bitter tastes.

“I want you to make me feel as good as I made you feel, although I doubt you could. I am far too skillful for you to ever be able to make me feel satisfied.” I pulled every knowledge I kept of how to suck his dick. Riddler groaned before tangling his hand in my hair, allowing him the control he needed to have. I let my tongue lick his slit very quickly before he pushed me down his length, I looked up at him through my eyelids. This was the best head by far he had ever gotten, although he would not admit it nor did he want to. 

“Is this really a-all you’ve got?” I hummed with his cock in my mouth sending a shockwave of unexpected pleasure through his body. Eddie could have cum by that pleasure alone, he was so close but purposefully held back. He was not capable of allowing me to win. I took him deeper and my nails dug at his lower back in a desperate attempt at keeping my ground. 

“Co-come on. Do better!” He demands loudly. His control and ego failed him for once, he was going to win even if his self-control was straining and becoming a grain of sand. I mumbled the permission for him to cum through vibrations. Riddled tried to hold off a little more before disrupting his rhythm, and pushed himself down my throat. He came with a groan that stayed within his chest. Riddler growled as he kept me sucking him off until he grew soft in my mouth. Eddie’s hand removed itself from my head before he moved away from the situation to go find his clothes and do whatever he had been before. While I laid on the bed, unable to think straight.

[good-to-drive]

now i'm curious as to which beatle songs are your favorite kdbfkdb (maybe per member? :0)

Oooh this is such a fun question!! Thank you for asking :D

I actually did put my top 10 beatles songs on here once and got some surprisingly ragey comments because I only had two by Paul, but I think the fandom has evolved a lot since what I call the post-Get Back era. Or all those people have me blocked now. But I’m pretty sure they got burned out and switched to an easier fandom.

Per your suggestion (and to avoid hurt feelings), I’m just going to list my top five by each Beatle. It’s kind of in order, but there are so many ties and my opinion changes so fast that it’s really not tbh.

Obligatory disclaimer that my taste in music is shit.

PAUL:

1. Eleanor Rigby

2. Let It Be

3. Mother Nature’s Son 

4. Blackbird

5. I’m Looking Through You

I remember being really sick once and listening to Mother Nature’s Son on loop for ages… that song is like a hug for your soul. 

JOHN:

1. I Want You (She’s So Heavy)

2. Tomorrow Never Knows

3. Norwegian Wood

4. Across The Universe

5. In My Life

I don’t know what my top ten beatles songs are anymore, but there’s a good chance that most of them are by John. He just tickles my brain in a way that's hard to describe....

GEORGE:

1. While My Guitar Gently Weeps 

2. Blue Jay Way

3. Love You To

4. Within You Without You (I genuinely like this song I’m so sorry)

5. Here Comes The Sun (I genuinely like this one too but idk if that’s considered cringey these days)

My toxic trait is that I’m not a big fan of Something. I’ve got nothing against it, I just never find myself listening to it. Hey, George, you wrote a song called “Something”? Well, how about writing SOMETHING ELSE? -> me if I was John Lennon in 1969 and also a bitch. So, just me if I was John Lennon in 1969, I guess.

RINGO:

1. Octopus’s Garden

2. Octopus's Garden

3. Octopus’s Garden

4. Octopus’s Garden

5. Octopus’s Garden

Although they don’t technically count, I’ve also gotta give some love to With A Little Help From My Friends, Good Night ❤️, and Yellow Submarine – the last of which I have actually heard him sing live and it was SO cool (though at one point he tried to shout out the name of the city and he got it wrong….?)

(I know this isn’t a tag game, but I’d sort of like to see yours @peaceloveandstarrs @georgegirltm @geriatricfool 👀) (no pressure of course)