#periods are not gross ya'll

[sunbitesworld]

Hmmmmm sorry now I'm bombarding you, but you can take your time on all of these. If I don't mention them at the moment I simply forget about them so, sorry again.

But out of curiosity sake, how about one with Alan for once?

I'm not feeling great at the moment (time of month) and got curious on how this in the woods cabin, feral man, would react/care for his MC who's going through their time of month?

If not that's completely fine too

Don't apologize hun, you know I love your ideas! I hope you feel better <3 Also the disclaimer is because Alan steals something LMAO

AFAB! Reader (No set pronouns)

DISCLAIMER: This is the work of fiction, if you try this you could face criminal charges.

Warnings: Mentions of blood & killing

At first, Alan wasn't sure how to handle your time of the month.

You we're always so grumpy with him when he didn't even do anything wrong!

When he first asked you what your problem was, he earned a pillow to the face.

"Go to the store and get me pads or tampons, you jerk!"

He just growled at you slightly and left, but he didn't come back for about an hour.

You we're starting to get worried that you pissed him off.

That's when the hormones really started to hit you, making you burst into tears.

Not soon after, Alan was back with a whole bag full of stuff.

"Sorry I'm late, Doe-Eyes. They caught me stealin'-"

He saw that you were crying and dropped the bag, immediately rushing to your side.

"Doe-Eyes, what happened? Did someone hurt ya? I'll fuckin' kill em-"

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"N-No one hurt me, I just missed you! I'm sorry f-for hitting you with my pillow!"

He let out a sigh of relief, seems he didn't have to get his hatchet bloody today.

"It's alright, I'm not mad at ya..." He leaned down, gently placing a kiss to your forehead.

"I got ya some stuff, but I want ya to look at it and tell me if I need to go get more."

You nodded, letting go of him so he could go grab the bag.

He went and grabbed it, before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"You stole that much? Jeez..." You mumbled, sitting up to look at what's inside.

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, wow no wonder he got caught!

He had stolen 4 boxes of pad and tampons, 6 chocolate bars, and a little teddy bear.

"Do I need to get more?" His worried tone snapped you out of it.

"N-No! No, this is perfect Alan..." You leaned closer, kissing his cheek.

He blushed slightly at the sudden kiss, then smiled.

"Anythin' for my Doe-Eyes..." He whispered, before wrapping his arms around you.

"Let's cuddle, feel like ya need it." He lies down, holding you close.

You happily returned the embrace, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

"I love you, Alan..." You mumbled, feeling the pain die down a little.

"I love ya too, Doe-Eyes. Forever..."

[vaya-writes]

when you're trying to write a segue into porn and it turns into angst instead

[hellishjoel]

surfing the crimson wave

3.7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: You lash out at Frankie, he unexpectedly does you a kindness. You thank him in his truck the best way you know how. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, discussions of having a period/emotions of going through a menstrual cycle (everyone’s is different! this is my rendition which may differ from your own experience), oral (m! receiving), slightly public sex (again, I’m not sorry), slight angst in the end, somewhat minimum editing, no use of y/n

A/N: These two live in my mind RENT. FREE. The next two to three chapters are outlined - wahoo! I’m writing this as if it's a sitcom honestly, so that’s why there’s that random interaction at the start of this chapter. Yes, this chapter is shorter than the last, the chapter sizes may vary depending on plot! I had a world to build in part one, but I still hope ya'll enjoy this even though it's shorter

Why the fuck did you have a growing soft spot for Frankie Morales all of a sudden?

Frankie forms a vice grip on the back service door and pulls it towards him with a yank, followed by the heavy scraping sound of metal crunching with orange rust. 

On the other side waits the Thursday morning food shipment. The bright red van made Frankie have to squint his eyes, his face curling up in annoyance. He observed the mismatched wheels and a certain clunking coming from the engine.

“You’re late,” Frankie mutters to the delivery truck driver, Smithy. 

The man wore a trucker’s hat to shield his balding head, loose greasy curls swiping out from under the brim. He mosied in, back hunched, old prescription cheater glasses on his nose as he slowly flipped through pages of his logbook with his pork sausage fingers. 

“Ya fackin’ doorbell don’t fackin’ work. Been here since nine.” 

Frankie narrows his eyes on the old man and takes a deep breath through his nose. His patience is evidently low this morning. 

“There’s a damn sign outside, that I wrote, saying that the doorbell is fucked. You know how to fuckin’ read, old shit?”

“I know how to fackin’ read, you greasy son of a bitch.” His gravely, smoke ingested wheezy voice makes every one of his words end with a shaky breath and a gross clearing of his throat.  “I’m not shoutin’-... DING DONG! Like a goddamn PRICK!”

Frankie scoffs and wipes a hand across his tired face, dragging sweat away from the tops of his brows. “You just fuckin’ did- Christ.” There was no point in arguing.

He murmurs curses to himself as he walks past Smithy and out the back door to the loading truck, unsnapping the latch and letting the door fly up with a loud rickety creak. 

“Fuck you, Francisco.” Smithy grovels, wobbling around the truck to watch from the pavement and keep an eye on him. 

Once Frankie verifies the order and signs off on it, you were clocking in at the back hall. Your eyes slowly scanned over him, slyly smiling. He pauses about ten feet away from you, further in the kitchen, and holds your eye contact. 

You look him up and down, shaggy appearance and all. He tries to give you his douchey smirk. “Mornin’, princess.”

You show no immediate response. You like watching him burn like an ant under a magnifying glass. You slowly begin to purse your lips and lightly narrow your eyes on him. “Your shirt’s inside out.”

Frankie’s smirk falters as he looks down at himself. His face flattens like a pancake as he brushes by you, untying his apron as he goes with an annoyed, “Shit.” 

---

Fold linen in half. Knife, fork, spoon. Fold the left side into the center. Fold the right side into the center. Roll up. Set aside. Repeat.

Fold linen in half. Stomach cramp.

“Fuck.” You murmur, attempting to pause rolling the silverware as you gently knead your palm into the lower part of your stomach. 

Knife, fork, spoon. Fold the left side into the center. Stomach cramp. Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

Fold the right side into the center. Roll up. Frankie approaches with a stupid smirk. Eye roll. Set aside. 

“What’s got you so down, princess?” 

The booth you’re in bounces as Frankie scoots in beside you. This is the worst time for him to talk to you. Cramps were coursing through your abdomen like tiny volts of electricity, pulling and tugging on your insides and leaving you sore. The clamp you have on your jaw is so tight, your teeth are grinding. Periods fucking sucked.  

Stomach cramp.

You whimper quietly and push the storage bin of extra linen-rolled silverware aside.

“I’m not in the mood.” You finally muster up, avoiding his eye contact. Fold linen in half.��

You and Frankie have had limited contact since fooling around behind the back of the diner. It wasn’t exactly on purpose. He didn’t work Tuesdays, you didn’t work Wednesdays. Now it was Thursday and your period hit you in the middle of the week on your day off. What the fuck was that shit luck? 

He plucks the red sucker from his mouth and looks over you slowly. Reading you. Trying to see if he should lean into your foul mood or not touch you with a ten-foot pole. 

He juts out his jaw to the left, then to the right, muddy brown eyes observing you before coming to the bright conclusion that:

“Somethin’s wrong with you.” 

Your eyes cannot physically roll back into your head far enough. 

“No shit Sherlock.” You muttered, unimpressed by his harrowing detective skills. “Why don’t you solve Stonehenge next, or deduce what happens at the Bermuda Triangle.” You mutter. Knife, fork, spoon.

You had been in a foul mood since first clocking in. It was one minor convenience after another. On top of that, your body was achy, slipping between scorching hot and freezing cold. Your periods hit you like a truck, and simple Ibuprofen often didn’t shield you from the pain for long. You tried to stick to yourself for most of the day, but now here Frankie was, about to drive you into a corner.

You have a very short fuse right now. 

Frankie slowly smirks and cocks up his head, throwing his sucker back into his mouth as he crosses his arms, making his biceps bulge.

“You’re pretty when you’re pissed.” 

You snort up a short laugh, folding another set into the basket and running a hand down your tired face as you sigh. 

“I’m on my period, Frankie. So, can you please just- leave me alone?”

He frowns lightly, eyes softening as he looks over you cautiously. The ten-foot pole option would have been a better route for him to take. He realizes that now. 

He tries to choose his next words carefully. “You okay?” 

You sighed in annoyance, emotions running high. You couldn’t bear the thought of anyone in your space right now, which is why you opted to take silverware duty during the dead hours of your shift. But here he was, in your space, making your anger bubble over as your stomach screamed at you, cried for food that your cramps wouldn’t allow you to comfortably digest. 

“Frankie- Christ! I said to leave me alone, I even said fuckin’ please! I’m tired, I’m starving, I’m- I’m fucking bleeding from my vagina, and all I want-” Your eyes are filled with rage as you turned to him, putting your little fists up before you flatten them open, pushing your palms in his general direction. 

“All I want is for not just you- but for everyone to leave me alone! Please!” Your voice was scorned, breaths heaving as you felt heat rush through your entire body. 

It felt like the entire staff of Tumbleweed was staring at you. Busboy Lou stopped mopping the floors, do-it-all Paul was glaring at you for disrupting his daily crossword puzzle, and Tina was looking around, unsure of what to do. This was the first time she had seen you like this. Angry, short-tempered, blowing up on the first person that crossed an unknown line. 

You sighed as you felt tears threatening to spill, trying to scoot Frankie out of the booth so you could escape to the bathroom. 

“Please,” you quietly whimper. Frankie’s already moving out of your way, a sympathetic look on his features with parted lips, unsure of what to say or what to do. But there was really nothing he could do.

---

As the more responsible member of your group, you usually adhered to the designated fifteen-minute break period without extending it, based on basic principles. But after twenty minutes in the dingy bathroom alone with some peace and quiet for your wrecked brain, you were starting to feel a little better. 

You changed your hygiene product and straightened yourself out. You washed your hands and scrubbed them under scalding hot water until you felt like your anger drained down the sink. 

All you wanted to do was go home. Be in comfy pajama pants and a big shirt, sleep with a heating pad over your stomach, and munch on some ice cream. Maybe watch some porn. Maybe watch a period drama. Ha. Get it? Period drama. You quirked up a half-smile at your little joke.

Maybe before all of that though, you could work up the nerve to apologize to Frankie. He just asked if you were okay and you lashed out at him. 

The restaurant is dimly lit in a yellow hue once you exit the bathroom. It's dark out, the velvet sky turning purple and blue. The tables are cleaned, and you see Tina working a rag over the line of barstools at the front counter. She gives you a sympathetic smile, and you give her a crooked one back. 

“You didn’t have to do all the cleaning, I’m sorry-”

“Hey, everyone has bad days! Don’t worry about it! Ya know why? Because-” She pauses before breaking into a short-lived rendition of that one Annie song. 

“The sun will come out, tomorrow!”

Your eyes widen, and you quickly take her by the shoulders, squeezing tightly. 

“You know what? My headache- This migraine I have is just- so bad, y’know?” 

Tina’s lips parted, eyes wide as you gave her a sympathetic smile. 

“Another time, maybe?” She offers excitedly. 

You give her a tight-lipped smile but eventually nod. She shoots you a thumbs up and takes her rag into the back. 

You sigh as you go to grab your silverware tub, pausing as you see a plate of food hot and ready on the table. 

“Tina- whose order is this?” 

You don’t receive an answer, but you don’t need one. 

You know every meal on this menu, front and back. This was your personal off-menu special. You always had the line cooks make it special for your shift meal. And Frankie made it the best. 

You examine the dish further, confirming it was your greasy double cheeseburger with bacon, extra cheese, and a honey mustard mayo with a side of fries, a zesty sauce drizzled over them and sprinkled with freshly grated parmesan and parsley. This was about as gourmet as Tumbleweed’s food got.

For the first time in forty-eight hours, your stomach aches for some food.   Your mouth waters as you reach for a fry and toss it past your lips. The flavor explodes in your mouth, sweet and tangy mixed with a salty golden crunch. 

“Fuck.” You murmured. You turn to look behind the counter, leaning back on your hip as you watch Frankie through the pass. 

His broad back was to you. You took in his signature look. He wore a dingy white short-sleeved t-shirt, the collar worn and warped from stuffing his head through haphazardly. The knot to his red bandana was circled tight and tied at ear level, dark curls circling the paisley-decorated material and wrapping around it like ivy. 

He tosses a rag over his shoulder and walks towards the kitchen door, swinging out into the dining area and walking to your table. 

He slows when he sees you, looking over your soft, apologetic face. He evades your eye contact after that and sets down a vanilla milkshake beside your food before returning to the kitchen.

You part your lips to speak, but the words fall silent in the air. You don’t know what to say. You barked at him, and he turns around and serves you food. Why the fuck did you have a growing soft spot for Frankie Morales all of a sudden? Fucking periods. 

You can’t ignore your food anymore, and you won’t let it go cold. You’re shoveling bites of food into your mouth, fingers greasy and lips slick with evidence. You use about six napkins to clean your hands and face by the time you’re finished, topping it all off with the milkshake. It was perfect. 

---

Frankie’s loading up his truck at the end of the evening. The manager, Rudy, lets you guys off an hour early since Tumbleweed was deader than the cemetery down the road and he can’t afford to pay you all for standing around twiddling your thumbs. 

Let’s just get one thing straight: You don’t know how to apologize, even when you know it’s the right thing to do. Fuck apologies. Fuck Frankie for being nice to you, and having to owe him an apology.

You’re just a few feet behind him, both of you walking to your cars. Tina had hopped into her boyfriend’s car out front, and Lou’s on-again, off-again girlfriend scooped him up as well. Rudy’s still inside doing closing administration crap, leaving just you and Frankie out back. 

He hears your feet scuff the gravel behind him. He looks at you as you walk by the back end of his truck, but you both don’t say anything. You hear him sigh before he gets into his truck and rotates his keys in the ignition, hearing it blast to life. Your hand is on your car door handle, but you stand there without tugging it open. 

“God... fucking dammit.” You mutter as you turn around and yank open Frankie’s passenger side door, hoisting yourself up before you close the door with a slam. And you sit there in silence as he slowly looks over you. 

“I’m not here to apologize.” 

He blinks a few times. “Okay.” 

“I’m not here to thank you for making me dinner.”

He slowly nods, large veiny palms resting on his denim-clad thighs. “Okay.” 

You don’t really know how to say I’m sorry and thank you like a normal person, so you opt to do things a different way. Your way. 

You reach into Frankie’s lap, his hands falling to his side as he looks from your fingers balancing on the clasp of his belt to your concentrated face. 

He speaks your name, and your eyes connect. 

“Don’t have to thank me like this.” He mutters, southern twang slipping through. “Know you’re not feelin’ good.” 

You shake your head and move to kneel in your seat, bending your front over his center console to finish undoing his belt. 

He says your name again, breathy, but persistently. 

Your head whips up to him. “Frankie, I’m trying to apologize here-”

“Okay, fuck, ‘m sorry.” He teases, mouth glowing with his stupid cocky smirk. There was the Frankie you knew well. 

He does you the courtesy of opening his belt buckle and popping the button of his jeans, the zipper going down echoing within his truck. His thumbs hook into the band of his jeans and boxers, pushing them down to the tops of his thighs and unleashing his cock. 

You remember him being girthy, but being this close to him was enough to make a shiver shoot up your spine. He’s a handful, to be generous. God, you just wanted to throw yourself over his lap and ride him until the sun came up. 

You move to flip your hair out of your face. Frankie strokes it away, his hand gentle at first as his fingers cast light strokes against your scalp. 

Saliva fills your mouth in pure excitement. Being on your period made you ferociously horny, but you weren’t in the mood to let Frankie fuck you. Not tonight. Tonight was an ode to Frankie Morales. 

You make yourself comfy over the console before ducking your head down and doing sweet kitten licks at his dark rosy tip. He twitches in your hand, you decide to show him mercy and start pumping over him. 

Frankie’s abdomen flutters, his head falling back against the headrest as he watches with half-lidded eyes and pretty parted lips. 

The warmth of your mouth consumes his tip, and you begin to suckle, tongue gliding over his slit and tasting drips of precum. Frankie grits his teeth and inhales sharply, his hand in your hair that was once gentle now turning into a fist for control. 

You smirk around him, long eyelashes fluttering before you slowly work him deeper into your mouth. He’s large, he fills your mouth and causes a spillage of your saliva that leaks trails down his swollen cock. You swallow what you can around him before continuing to take him in inch by inch. 

You push him to the side of your cheek when you need to breathe around him, your head weakly falling to rest on his thigh. He gently hushes you and strokes his thumb up your cheekbone. 

“Is this how you say sorry to me, princess?” 

Your eyes soften in slight shock. You whimper gently against him in response. 

“Take my fuckin’ cock like you’re sorry. Show me how sorry you are.” 

The ache between your legs only strengthens when he degrades you like this. Such a fucking dick. You know you can do better. You need to prove it to him. 

You take one last breath with his tip plunged against the inside of your cheek before you slip him back down the center lane of your throat. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his cock and feel the thick vein that lines his shaft. You breathe through your nose and manage to take him down to his balls. 

Frankie ruts his hips up into your mouth, and you choke around him. You clench your eyes closed, mascara stinging your eyes and making black smudges on your waterline. Your fist holds onto the meat of his thigh, nails piercing his blue jeans as you hold yourself against him. 

He grunts, long and low before he pulls your head up and he leaves your mouth with a pop. You take a breath but keep pumping over him, a sloppy smirk on your lips before you reattached around his tip. 

Your fist lightly twists as you work up and down his shaft, feeling his dick eagerly twitch in your hand. 

Frankie’s watching you with a worked-up smirk, continuing to bob over him as slurps and chokes were emitting from your throat each time he hit the back of it. 

He’s losing himself. His thighs twitch, and the hold he has on your hair is so tight it burns your scalp. You whine and moan against him, the vibrations only inch him closer to his end. 

“So fuckin’- shit- so pretty chokin’ on my cock like that.” 

Frankie's words make your hips rut into his center console. He releases your hair to skim his hand down the extent of your back, fist tightening around the hem of your skirt and hiking it up to reveal your ass. He takes a fist full and cups, making a messy moan shudder against his shaft. 

You’re slurping around him, head bobbing and fist pumping with a certain eagerness. His hips buck up on instinct, twitching up into your mouth and making you choke around him once more. 

“‘M close-” His words are taken by a rocky moan, jaw tight as his grunts echo the truck. He sounds heavenly, though you know him more comfortably as a hellish man. 

He takes control, fisting your hair and guiding your head up and down to fuck into your mouth. You take it like a champ, despite your shaky breathing and black mascara tears hitting the tops of your cheeks. 

You hear him take a sharp inhale, his head rutting back into the headrest, hips stilling as he holds you down on his cock. You feel his cum shoot down the back of your throat and on your tongue. 

You despise to admit how good he tastes. A mix of saltiness and his natural musk. 

You smirk lightly as you move to lay on your back, the center console causing a subtle arch. You laid your head in his lap, looking up into his hazy eyes as you suckle off his tip like the lollipop he sucked on earlier. 

Frankie lazily smirks, in awe at the way you’re looking up at him while sucking on his cock. His gears slowly become undone, and his hand that was cupping your ass comes up to gently cradle your head and stroke through the knots he had created in your hair.

You keep slowly pumping over his shaft until he’s hissing through his teeth at the overstimulation, doing one last circular lick around his tip before you pull off of him with a subtle pop. You kiss his tip and let his softened length go, sitting up and scooching back into the passenger seat. 

You shift your waitress dress back down your thighs, letting out a soft sigh as you flip down the sun visor and look yourself over briefly in the mirror. Frankie tucks himself back into his boxers, pulling the denim up past his hips and fastening the zipper and button. 

You still taste him on your tongue as you wipe the edges of your mouth clean and swipe your forefingers across your cheeks to scrub away any residual mascara. You look like a fucking mess, and it was all because of Frankie. 

After two sexual encounters with you in less than a week, Frankie was probably over the moon. 

“You’re welcome.” 

His words make you pause, turning to look over at him. “What?”

“I said you’re welcome. You apologized, you said thank you. You’re welcome.” 

You feel some heat rush to your neck and cheeks, slowly smiling and teasingly scoffing at him as you pluck open the door to his truck and land down on the gravel with a scuff from your sneakers. 

"Whatever, Morales."

You weren’t sure what Frankie was aiming for with you. Friends with benefits? Something more? Whatever this was or could be, you didn’t want to put any sort of label on it. You didn’t need him getting any hopes up that something real could forge itself from these sexcapades. He was a warm body, you were a warm body, that was all. 

You let out a shaky sigh and give him a soft nod. “Goodnight, Frankie.”

"Goodnight, Princess." You have to roll your eyes and slam his passenger door before he has a chance to come up with any more quick-witted remarks.

Let's go the fuck home.

---

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[cavernclaw]

Hasbeen Motel Rewrite ptII

overlords edition! includes a rewrite of the vees and a removal of. the gross one. anyways ramble below :3 (Includes the time periods they're based on!) also i have based this on kolkocat's video that i watched a while back

note: I COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING FOR CARMILLA FOR HER PRE-DEATH... SO IT'S 'UNKNOWN' FOR NOW. SORRY :( (i'd be happy to brainstorm with ya'll tho)

King Edward Zestial III (1300s) zestial was a paranoid king, in constant fear he would be stabbed in the back or poisoned or strangled in his sleep. this was shown through how he ruled his kingdom, if one was suspected of any sort of disliking against him they would be executed in the town square immediately. this continued for a long time, until he was finally overthrown and killed.

when zestial arrived in hell, it was far more different than it is now. demons like furies were more set on hurting the souls that arrived and extermination day wasn't even a thing.

zestial lived in hell for 700 years and it shows, he's the overlord equivalent of that one school teacher that's way too old yet refuses to retire. he's still paranoid though, velvette loves to mess with him whenever they cross paths.

Carmilla Carmine (????) not much is known about carmilla, she's kept her past life as a secret for a long time now. we may not know anytime soon.

anyways, carmilla is a well known weapon seller across hell. while most weapons are not so different from the ones in the mortal plane. carmilla has taken it upon herself to learn satanic magic from an older demon and to infuse it with the weaponery.

while being rather intimidating, carmilla is not as cold as she seems. she as a soft spot for her adopted daughters and her friends and will do anything to defend them.

Velvette (2010s) professional meanie head, in hell and in life. she was once a popular fashion & makeup content creator, although she couldn't handle critique of her work. she would talk behind people in private group chats, harass 'haters' and basically all the cyberbully examples in a anti-bullying psa.

velvette died in a car crash, not paying attention and doing makeup in the mirror. which is why she has permanent clown makeup (the design also has a double meaning with the clown emoji being used in arguments i think)

in hell she wasn't exactly strong, but after joining vox she became alot more powerful. vox wasn't very convincing during the overlord meetings, but velvette would usually manage to sway half the party over. so velvette did the talking while vox made the tech.

Vox (1980s) vox is a nepo-baby with with a wizard of oz complex, he came from not-so-humble beginnings. he had good friends and manage to climb the coporate ladder fairly quickly (probably because his dad used to be in the company and was a higher up but coughcough-)

it came to a tragic end during a workplace accident, some of the technology being worked weren't working well and vox died of eletric shock.

vox at first wasn't really doing good in hell, it's not exactly a friendly enviorment for beginners. luckily things changed after meeting a certain demon, things got a lot better.

vox began to work on himself and by that i mean heavily modify himself with satanic-magic infused technology to make himself stronger.

vox once again began to rise to the top and managed to get himself among the greats. the overlords, one issue was that they didn't respect him. but after meeting velvette, vox realised that maybe he doesn't have to do the talking at all. so vox stayed behind the scenes while velvette attended the meetings and kept an image for the public.

[puella-peanut]

- what is your favorite color

- what should I eat for dinner

- who is your favorite superhero

- Ralph pic

Red and yellow, no I don't take criticism. I like most colors, but not taupe. And beige. Those aren't colors, those are mistakes.

I think you should do pizza, everything on it. Also hot wings, breadsticks, lasagna, tiramisu, and a coke (the fizzy kind not the Terry Silver kind), because it's Friday, and you should live Queen! If not that, then Waffle House, because I'm from the South ya'll (yes, with an accent too), and We Need To Represent Our Greasy Haunt.

Batman when I'm trying to be edgy, Superman when...you know what, Superman's just great, period. But not edgy Superman. Fuck that. Christopher Reeve!!

So, I'm super gross about Cuba and His Teddy Bear and I don't know if you know, but Ralphie's look in this play-which-ruined-my-life might be my favorite of his. Of all time. Yup. Anyway, I don't have a favorite picture of Ralph, but I still like this one a lot because a) CaHTB, and b) I really like the kicked pouty lesbian puppy energy of this image Very Much. And you can never go wrong with a Lady Diana haircut. God bless the 80s.

[dameronscopilot]

Thank you for so much wonderful content all the time, I love reading your writing - whether that's the sleepover bits or you longer stories, they're all amazing!! 😍😍😍 could I maybe ask about how Benny and/or santi deal with their person's period and cycle related needs and ailments? Like, not just the cramps blood bloat but also The Horny at other times in the cycle. Are they attentive to that and know where in the cycle their person is, do they prep with/for them, are they grossed out or even amused about some of it (e.g. their person gets grumpy in a way they maybe find cute)? Asking for a friend in agony (it's me 😣😔) thank you!!! ❤

Hi nonnie! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you've enjoyed my content 🧡 🧡 !

I recently covered Benny being soft during his partner's period here! But that being said, I've maybe low key been waiting for someone to ask for something on the horny side LOL.

So if you want something fluffy, check that out. If you're looking for something explicit (this is 18+, ya'll), I just published a short drabble—stained.

Period pain is the worst, and I hope you feel better soon xx.

Copilot New Year’s Sleepover

[cocopineo]

Unpopular Opinion

Any other animated movie besides Toy Story 4 deserved that Oscar

[littlemessyjessi]

Time of the Month: BTS as Vampires Reactions: PS Reader

=

Vampire!BTS x PS Reader 

Warning:  Look it talks about your period and the consumption of that.   It is what it is.  If you triggered then don't read.  If you're grossed out by a period (which is a completely natural bodily function that people have no control of btw)  then please just go anyway.   I mean, have a nice day and all I guess but just go.   We don't tolerate double standards in this house.   

So the premise here:   Pre-established relationship.   PS Reader because I tend to write PS Reader.   She on the rag, ya'll and got a vampy BTS boyfriend.  

=

Seokjin: 

So this time of the month makes him antsy as hell.   He loves it because actually thinks you smell divine.  I mean, he fucking would.  

And while he does not enjoy the idea of you being in pain or not feeling well… there is something rather attractive about you when you're irritated.  10/10 trying to get choked.  I mean, it's not gonna do anything.  Come on.  He's a vampire and you're not.   But still… the thought of it is enough to rile him up.  Expect him to be around you constantly.   Most of the time, he gives you your space and he enjoys it as well… but for that week… it's kinda hard to get rid of him.

  To his credit, he is very accommodating.  He will get you whatever you need honestly. I mean, he does love you.  You need air? He cranks the AC.  You need heat?  He will get the heating pad primed and ready.  Whatever you want. 

And if you ask him for a cuddle, then he is all too willing and ready to hold you… even if it does about drive him insane because you smell so good. 

10/10 dying to ask you for a taste but waaaaaay too shy to actually do it. 

Yoongi: 

Honestly?  The sweetest.  He has a love/hate relationship with your period because while he does think you are absolutely stunning and smell divine this time of the month… he hates that you aren't feeling well.  He just loves you so much and it tears him up to know that you are suffering. 

He is very doting during this time and makes sure that you eat well, drink lots of water and will basically do anything for you.  

It's fairly common for him to work from home during this time because he wants to be close.  I mean, he does like to be close any time but especially now.   And also, he'd be lying if he said, he didn't want to soak up as much of it as possible.   It's 1 part him wanting to be on hand in case you need something and 1 part him just dying to be near you.   He would take off if he didn't think he'd go crazy.   Keeping up with work gets his mind off it enough that he can somewhat get through. 

Would never pressure you to taste but definitely made sure you knew that he was into it and not at all put off by it and that if you decided that you wanted him to make you feel good… he would be all too willing.   

He adores you. 

Hoseok: 

Well, here's the thing.  It makes him fucking crazy.  He thinks you are radiant and smell amazing.   However, he does have a little issue with control when it comes to this time of month.   And it kills him because you are the love of his life and he wants to be there but he also has to force himself out and definitely up his blood intake because it's a struggle to have you constantly bleeding.   

He is desperate to taste you while you are on your period but he's afraid he'll lose control.  You've told him it's ok and that you trust him… and perhaps that's what scares him the most. 

That you put complete and total faith in him and he could completely break that trust in a second if he lost control.  He has held off so far but he is wearing down on the issue… alot.  

Namjoon: 

His favorite time of the month, honestly. 

Now, that makes him sound like a dick when you're over there bleeding to death and miserable but it's not like that.   But Namjoon is of the mind that it is so beautiful in the natural aspect… and also because you're scent this time is mouth watering.   

Had no issues telling you that he loved and respected you… and therefore would respect your decision… but also that he was very much wanting to have a taste. And that studies had also shown that orgasms were proven to help alleviate pain as well as boosting levels of serotonin.   

And also he just hit you with the big eyes and the dimples and basically you have no strength when it comes to that.   Especially not when there is a promise of all that plus snacks and cuddles with your Joonbug after.  Like come on. 

Jimin: 

On you like a fucking mosquito in June.  Not even joking.  He's like that anyway.  A cuddle bug to his core but that time of the month, he is even more so.  But it works because he is all too willing to love on you when you get needier than usual.  Actually, loves this.   Boy is THRIVING. 

And you smell divine.   The conversation kinda came afterwards because he straight woke you up with head the night it came.   You were both asleep, dreaming peacefully and suddenly you are shooting up in bed and you look down to see his face painted in you, his eyes blow wide and hazed. 

It looked like a scene out of a horror movie and for one terrifying second you literally had to check because you thought he bit you while you were asleep.  You were slightly mortified when you realized just what he was doing and why but you got over it.  Because Park Jimin is a devil with those puppy eyes. 

"But, baby, please.  I'm hungry…" 

One whine and that was all it took. 

The real challenge is keeping him off you  when it hits.   

Little shit would live down there if you'd let him. 

Taehyung: 

He knows before you know.  I mean, you know when your period is coming.  I mean, it's around the same time every month.  But Taehyung?  No, no.  He has an app on his phone and watches like a hawk. 

Initially, this was pure practical as he would NOT be leaving you alone to fend for yourself when you were suffering and he wanted to make sure that he was well fed and had plenty on deck so he could ride it out and not be overcome with temptation. 

However… that quickly went out the window.  I mean, man tried.  Really he did.  He drained all the suppy he'd brought and he still felt dehydrated.    However, he did not expect you to satiate that thirst.  

"Baby, I'm going out for just a bit.  I just need some air." 

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe.  It is too much for you? You can go home.  It's ok.  I'm fine.  I've been dealing for a long time.  Just take some time for yourself." 

"Y/N,  stop.  I'm going to get more blood and I'm also gonna get more snacks and supplies for you.   But I am not going home and I fully expect you to be ready to be held when I get back." 

"Well, damn. But if it's just blood, you can have some of mine.  My neck has healed up well."

"You're already losing a lot of blood.  I'm not about to.." he had trailed off before his eyes landed on your thighs.  "But actually if I take what's already flowing.." 

"You want-"  "Yes, I do.  Legs open, babe. Please.  I'm hungry." 

After that, he's there like three days before you even get your period unloading enough food into the fridge to feed a small army. 

"Taehyung, what is this?  I can not eat all of this." 

"You're gonna need your strength and we're not leaving for a week." 

"I do have a job, you know." 

"You're on leave." he said before glancing at you. "I used compulsion on your boss and he's fine with it." 

"Taehyung!" 

Jungkook: 

The very definition of curiosity. 

I swear, the man won't leave you alone. 

"Babe, let me iiiiinnnnn." 

"Jungkook, I am attempting to put in a tampon.  Give me a second." 

"I wanna see." 

"No, you weirdo." 

Breaks the door down.  Gets scolded.  Doesn't care. 

"Let me do it." he said, snatching it from your hands. 

"Give it back you little freak!"  

"I can do it.  I'm very familiar with that part of your body.  Don't you trust me?" 

"You know, babe.  Boundaries are a good thing." 

"Says the woman who tried to get in the coffin with me." 

"Says the man who is currently trying to put my tampon in my vagina!" 

"Just let me do this and I'll leave you alone." 

A long suffering sigh, "Fine. Go ahead I guess." 

He grins and kneels down. 

"You have never seemed this bored when I'm down here before." he commented with a teasing wink. 

"Well, I don't find tampons particularly sexy, babe." 

He leaned forward for a quick lick and you smacked him on top of the head, "Quit." 

He grinned at you, "I like it.  It's tasty.   Maybe ditch the tampon and just go without it." 

"Do you know how much of a mess that would be?" 

"Not, if I stay down there permanently.  I'm great at cleaning up messes, you know."  

You rolled your eyes, "You're serious?" 

"As a heart attack." 

"You got half an hour." you said. 

"Half an hour?  Babe! I don't even do that when you're not bleeding!  Be reasonable. More than that." 

He blinked up at you, making his eyes round and doe like, "I promise I'll clean up any mess." 

He stopped, furrowing his brows as he looked at the tile in the bathroom, "I can not believe I am actually begging my girlfriend to eat her out.  What has the world come to?" 

"Fine.  I'll free bleed.  But it's on you if anything gets ruined." you sighed, honestly just too fatigued to argue anymore. 

"Awesome!  So like… can we?" he trailed off. 

"Yeah, come on, you blood thirsty beast.  Welcome to Shark Week." you said heading for the linen closet to locate some towels. 

"Shark bait, ooh ha ha." he grinned. 

"Quote Finding Nemo to me one more time and it's gonna be drier than the Sahara down there."  you warned. 

He simply grinned, wide smile on display and a little tremor went down your spine. 

For a second there, your sweet bunny actually did look a bit like a shark. 

You in danger, girl. 

= 

—

Hey loves! Thanks for checking out my work! For all kpop content check Masterlist 2.0 in my navi! Link in bio! Love, K 💋

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[fuckyourtriangles]

Painting with their period blood...I hate feminists.

[justzawe]

Yes. Keep dragging ZFC. I hated that that bitch always made her opinions feel like laws. Her stupid anon were playing Zawe for something her GRANDFATHER did. Like it we are gonna dig up dirt on ancestors imma need ya'll to come get your mans.

Not white people coming after anyone for their ancestors 🥴

It was so gross how they were insinuating that Zawe shouldn’t be proud of her Ugandan heritage because of shit her grandfather did while he was in office a short period of time. She wasn’t even close with him either. He died when she was 6.

[totallylonelyanddepressed1997]

TW:// Bulimic thoughts, drug use, weight talk

I haven't posted in so long since I lost my blog, but hej~. Lol

I been losing weight pretty good. I been doing dope for about two months, at the beginning I didn't notice much, but I went to the doctor within a two week period and lost 10 pounds. It's not much, but I'm not sad about it, either, lol.

It helps I haven't been drinking cause I got prescribed with naltrexone for my binge drinking problem. It makes me puke when I drink, so that's gross, but maybe it will help if I eat something throughout the day and then drink with it. I don't really want my bulimia problems to come back, I just want to be skinny. Lol

Anyway, I guess I'm just super happy. My hands look slimmer, my calves look great, my double chin is going away. My biggest problem has been my thighs and tummy, but they will come.

I don't condone drug use for losing weight or any of my negative habits, please take care of yourselves, ya'll. I care for you. ❤