#And there’s worse things that chewing gum to be addicted to
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since he doesn’t have a digestive system and can’t really eat, I think Michael would take it upon himself to try every gum in existence. Like the gum chewing was bad before he got scooped, but afterwards it reached a whole new level. He misses the familiarity and humanity of eating, so he chews gum instead. He has tried the weirdest, most vile sounding gum anyone could think of. He’s tried every flavor of every brand. Henry, Jeremy, and his other friends don’t mind because despite how much gum mike buys every month still costs less than groceries.
#mike afton#michael afton#mike schmidt#henry emily#jeremy fitzgerald#gum#fnaf#five nights at freddy’s#fnaf headcanons#mike has issues#But the issues are cheap and relatively harmless#And there’s worse things that chewing gum to be addicted to#Also if anyone has come across any really weird gum flavors let me know#Writing this has made me wonder what kind of fucked up gum flavors exist in this world
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Toby
Trigger warning: mentions of self harm, suicide and sexual assault.
The gash on his cheek ended up healing, though it wasn't looked after which is why it took so long to heal, it has became a scar. He had gotten it from the car crash.
When Frank got angry, he'd beat Toby the least because he couldn't feel it, instead he'd usually lock Toby in a closet for a few hours.
He has no limit, he kills anything and everyone, though he hesitates killing blonde girls because they remind him of someone, but he can never figure out who.
He doesn't remember much of his life before, only that he killed Frank and burnt his whole neighbourhood to the ground. Everything else is a blank but he doesn't really question it.
Clockwork was his only friend, his girlfriend, she was the only reason he kept going, however eventually his mental health just got worse and worse, Clockwork wasn't enough anymore.
theres not a single soul on earth that toby trusts enough to fully rely on, in his mind all he has is himself now. especially after everything with his sister. he barely remembers it, but god does it follow him.
He loved being a Proxy at first, because it was something new, something he thought would always be refreshing and no one was going to mess with him anymore. It wasn’t. Toby was still being picked on, underestimated and made out to be small.
Toby was also became bored rather quickly after one year of it, it quickly turned into a routine.
This one of the many reasons why he committed suicide.
He was a pretty heavy smoker, it was one of his coping mechanisms for his anxiety, along with chewing or picking at his fingers.
He would project what he saw at home onto other kids when he was in middle school, this would cause a lot of fights and Lyra would always come to the rescue, until realising what he was doing and taught him what Frank is doing isn't okay, after awhile he stopped, only to do it again.
He was 167cm.
He never did high school and was home schooled after middle school because of all the bullying and harassment.
He'd get teased in class, bashed at lunch and followed home, and couldn't take it anymore and refused to go back so Connie and Frank took him out.
He's really good at cutting hair because of all the times he had to chop it off, but he never looks after it and if he even did cut his hair it'd be very sloppy.
Sometimes he'd cut Clockworks hair though and he’d do it well.
toby thinks with his fists more than he does his brain. he always has been and always will be a fighter, thats one thing he got from his father for better or for worse.
Toby's motor tics are blinking repeatedly, jerking his head or cracking his neck and hitting his chest.
His vocal tics are just him repeating words he heard or stuck in his head, he doesn't do vocal tics often. Whenever he goes out to kill someone he'd suppress them as best he can.
His tics calmed down after he was in his 20s, it only happens after a breakdown or if he’s feeling to much of an emotion.
He's always liked fire, because he can't feel it, he just sees pretty flames on his finger.
Toby used to have a big fear of cars and people drinking, and even though he doesn't remember his past it's like it's still lingering in his mind, he might get a sudden anxious feeling in a car or flinching if someones yelling to loud, but he doesn't know why and tries ignoring it.
He had a liking for human flesh, he got hooked because of all the times he's chewed on his hands and gums, he even took a bite out of Frank.
Though he wasn't nearly as addicted as other creepypastas, he just had it as like a snack.
Toby was a shut in, he barely left his room because he felt more safe in there.
Even now he's still a loner and doesn't like talking to people, or even being around them. Toby finds all the noise irritating and socialising just causes him to stress out and it becomes a cycle that causes him to stutter and than he's starting to think their judging him and now he's angry. Usually to avoid this he'll start off rude to begin with, hoping they'll leave him alone, which usually they do.
He's horrible at socialising for a few reasons, one of the main ones is because he never had any friends and was homeschooled, and doesn't know how to act.
Toby resented Connie, he blamed her for everything that was wrong with him and the family, if she had stopped being a coward and gotten rid of Frank they would of been better off.
He still gets hallucinations of Lyra though because he barely remembers her he just got used to it and doesn't care as much anymore.
Absolutely hates Slenderman, he liked him at first for saving him, he deluded himself into thinking that Slender Man is like a father figure who only has the best interests for him and the other Proxies, because why else would he save him? Toby always obeys Slenders orders without question. This lasted around a year until he snapped out of it. The only reason he would still listen is because he knows he wouldn't be able to take on Slenderman, and he doesn't have much of a choice.
He'd become very reckless in life, he just stopped caring about himself and would get injured a lot because of it. He has very little self respect for himself and he'd constantly do dangerous things hoping to get hurt, wanting something interesting to happen, his life was boring and just a slog to get through.
Him and Lyra weren’t that close, but they were all they had.
He didn't choose the name Ticci Toby, it was the public who gave it to him because he was rumoured to have tics, some of the proxies made fun of him for having his nickname be based on his disorder. He hates it.
He doesn't know a single word of German, no one taught him and he didn't care enough to teach himself.
Toby left the old hatchet on purpose, because it was dull and looked like it was on its last legs, he thought he might as well leave it there while also telling everyone that he's still alive.
He used to have a bunch of tablets to help him and when he became a killer it was hard at first for him to adjust without them.
He doesn't stutter anywhere close to when he used to, he only does it when he's nervous or anxious.
there were labels on the shower and a thermostat so Toby would know what was a safe temperature.
He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, but after Lyras death he wanted to become a nurse for her.
He can't sweat and one of the things that started the bullying was when he had a stroke in PE.
It was second grade and they'd gone outside for soccer, he had over heated.
Toby is a fan of animals, his favourites are racoons, deer and frogs.
He likes the missions he has alone, walking through the woods and just watching the animals.
He's self harmed when he was a kid because he wanted to feel something, he feels empty a lot of the time. He would still do this now and again but Clockwork stops him when she sees him doing it.
He constantly self sabotages himself, a lot of his relationships became strained or were straight up ruined because of his paranoia and lack of self esteem.
Toby tends to have extreme dissociative episodes where he is barely grounded in reality. These can range from lasting hours to lasting days.
Toby gets into a lot of fights with Kate because he knows exactly how to push her buttons.
Toby gets really bad migraines because of Slendermam.
He can be very sarcastic at times.
He's very smart, he'd get B's and A's on most of his subjects.
He really liked learning because there wasn't much to do to pass the time.
He has really bad mood swings, his emotions can change in minutes, sometimes even causing him to breakdown.
Toby doesn't like Tim that much, he gets really jealous and wants to be like him, just being around him makes him mad because he's nothing like Tim and it infuriates him.
As he became more depressed he wasn't killing as much, he wasn't getting missions as much, he was becoming more useless.
He's not a picky eater, he'll eat pretty much anything because food can be hard to come by otherwise, he grew up like that too because they didn't have much food on the table. His favourite food is schnitzels and waffles.
He'd steal money sometimes, whether it was from Frank or from Lyra he didn't care where it came from.
He'd spent it on gum, usually, he ate a lot of it because it was supposed to help him stop chewing on his fingers and mouth. It didn't. It just made him less hungry. His favourite flavour was watermelon.
He loved sports when he was a kid, his favourite was football and volleyball. Though now he's fallen out of it.
He's had a recent appreciation for nature, he'd love going for a walk or just sit and watch the animals, sometimes he'll join Clockwork.
He loves Clockwork a lot, and he'd do pretty much anything for her.
He regretted not being with her more, because he genuinely likes being around her and felt he wasn't there for her enough.
Because of this he was considering breaking up with her, he didn't think he was good enough and wanted her to do better, but Toby could never decide if he actually wanted to and he never came to a conclusion and just left it as is.
When he's around her he changes a lot, he becomes more active and hyperactive.
He once stole Franks beer and drank a whole can, he hated it and it turned him away from alcohol altogether.
Toby wasn't allowed to cook in the kitchen because Connie was afraid he'd hurt himself or start a fire.
He used to be fairly lanky and skinny when he was younger but now he's more muscular, still lanky though.
Hates being touched.
His body has started healing weirdly because he either didn't know he had an injury or just left it there, this made his fingers not look right and bent.
He wasn't allowed to do much growing up, Connie never let him unsupervised because she was afraid he'd hurt himself somehow and not realise, and Frank wanted him to have as little freedom as he could, it was a lot easier to control Toby when he doesn't know how to do a lot of things, or can't go running his mouth to people.
During the night though on rare occasions he'd sneak out and just do what ever he wanted.
His favourite movie was Manhunter, and he really liked Hannibal Lecter, to the point he based his mask off of him. The goggles were for eye protection.
He had secret therapy sessions, but eventually Frank and Connie found out because of all the money they were losing. They were furious.
Frank kicked him out of the house, he wasn't allowed back in until 2 days later.
He had some of his clothes but that's about it, he had to fend for himself and buy any necessities.
After that he stopped going and never tried something like that again.
He gets mad pretty easily, he sometimes even took it out on his family, people trying to talk to him or even Clockwork on a few occasions.
He'd never properly apologise, either, he'd either give Clockwork a gift or just expect them to not be mad anymore. He talked about to Clockwork and he started apologising afterwards.
After Lyra died, he was sexually assaulted instead by Frank, Toby told no one because no one believed Lyra.
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i’ve just done a personal reading for myself, and i’m being called to share what i’ve realised about myself with you guys because i feel like it could help some of you (if you can relate). hopefully it does :)
why am i craving nicotine again - after not using it for a few weeks?
it seems like this is a feeling that’s popping up from the side of me that wants to do something reckless and impulsive. it’s familiar to me, and it’s like i’m thinking about “getting back to myself (old self)” through smoking. it’s the way that i’ve indulged in earthly pleasures for so long, since i try to restrict myself from doing that “too much” in the first place. i’m entering a brand new journey of life and that means having to disconnect from the relationships that i have with certain things and people. i guess it’s a form of self sabotage? and idk why my brain is trying to make me self sabotage in some way. things are going good, i’ve gained solid footing on this new life path away from certain addictions and dependencies - i’m finally sober - but here my brain is trying to make me sabotage again. i guess because i’m so familiar with this habit at this point.
my brain is leaning more towards self-sabotaging tendencies because i guess my ego isn’t used to things going well for me. quitting nicotine is probably the best decision for my health that i’ve made in a long time. in every way possible - for my lungs, for my heart, my gut health, my blood, for my anxiety (my mental health). just for everything. and this is something that’s helping me realise that i can dedicate myself to something and persist and actually be successful with it. i’m so used to failing at what i set my mind to that, although i’ve now been successful with quitting nicotine and i know that i’m reaping the benefits and the rewards of my hard work (through experiencing better health), it’s almost like i’m trying to bring myself back down to the energy of failing because that’s what i’m used to. that failure came from a lack of respect towards myself though. because if my doctor was to have told me to quit (and they told me that they’d be testing my blood for nicotine or something), then i feel like i wouldn’t even be considering going back to vaping. i’m so willing to listen to other people when they set goals for me (or when i need to set goals for the sake of other people), but not when i set goals for myself.
this is me showing myself self-respect. i shouldn’t sabotage it just because my ego is so used to telling me that i’m a failure and being comfortable with that. vaping and smoking definitely began as a social thing for me. and in a way, it’s like i’m worrying that i’m going to lose something socially? i think it feels like i’m losing my comfort in social situations without my vape. of course i deal with worse anxiety in social situations, so if push comes to shove, i’ll just get nicotine free vape liquid and use that (because it feels like the action of smoking/vaping is what calms me the most - not the nicotine), but i have to understand that i don’t really need to “protect” myself like this in social situations. it’s a false sense of comfort and self-protection. i just need to find a different coping mechanism and i’ll be good. i’m craving nicotine out of nowhere when i’m alone at home, so i really hope that i don’t fumble and buy an elf bar or something when i go out this weekend. if i do, i won’t beat myself up. i’ll just try to keep it strictly a social thing and not use it at home. but is that even realistic to aspire to do? relapsing in addiction usually doesn’t work like that, in the sense of - “i’m only going to do this socially”. and i feel like it wouldn’t even be worth it in the first place. my lungs don’t need this shit. my ego is trying to tell me that i do because it’s losing it’s coping mechanism - but i can replace it with something much better. chewing gum? that still feeds into an oral fixation, right? idk 😂
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Every so often I eyeball the Heathers tags and slightly wonder if I made the right decisions with my own AU, since it is technically a JDronica story, and that's something I've seen debated off and on whether or not the two should realistically be together. My personal stances? Via the movie: absolutely fucking not. Via the musical: There's definitely a shot for the two, but it's sort of a gray area since the musical juggles making the romance make sense in the new format, but also tries adhering where it can to the source material. The reboot show: If anything it seems more like JD should stay the fuck away from Veronica, because THAT Veronica is nuts. The musical versions of the characters ultimately win out since its supposed to more of a tragic love story, and that if the story did pivot more, JD easily could've gotten help and had a healthier future with Veronica. At least that's how I see it.
My AU is definitely more its own thing, but it uses the musical as a spring board with bits of the original movie for flavor where applicable. My rationale is my JD is framed more as a lonely kid who sits on his emotions, stewing on the crap life he's stuck in since his mom died, but finds friendship in Braverman in Hawkins and later Veronica in Sherwood.
JD in my AU is bitter, cynical and snarky, and tends to choose (semi comical) violence to retaliate, but he's a bit scaled back compared to his canon counterparts. He chews gum a lot instead of smoking, his slushee addiction is cranked up more though it's still clear he uses it as a crutch than face his problems (at least at first), has hobbies and interests that remind you he's still a kid (having a fixation on Dinosaurs Attack! and Transformers while still enjoying classic literature like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) and he is generally nicer, at least to people he likes like Braverman, Specs, Martha and Veronica. If he doesn't like you, like Flemming, Thrash, Throttle, Betty, Green Heather or Red Heather: well he doesn't hide his disdain whatsoever.
My AU, while being JDronica positive, does lean more into a bromance, since the focus is a bit more on JD, and his relationship with Braverman and how its put to the test when Braverman can't be around as much as JD needs him to be, made worse when the same happens with Veronica. The two lost friends' bond ultimately shining through when JD is at his absolute worst, with Veronica being able to reach out and "save" JD when she wasn't able to in the musical. The idea overall being JD having had more of a positive influence in his life again prior to Sherwood that helps make it more believable he and Veronica would remain together. It's part of the reason (most of) the kids that do die are ones that aren't innocent and were irredeemable: Red Heather being far more openly malicious and cold, murdering Specs over a petty matter and not really feeling any remorse over it, Betty similarly going down her own dark path that sees her willing to hurt people to get what she wants for the sake of popularity, and Thrash and Throttle being Movie Kurt and Ram cranked up to 11 but far more cruel than moronic. (AU Kurt and Ram meanwhile go through their own redemption, showing Veronica that perhaps there IS hope and that some people CAN change "back".)
I guess I feel like I have to justify myself and my own musings, but while I wonder if I made the right choices, I still feel pretty confident in them, so maybe that's what's more important.
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Pls do Leon for all ;; I love this man so much
ALL,,,,,,,,,, i was gonna tell u to come back with less but u know what . hes my special little guy im going for it [under a cut for 8 million miles length, warning for various bad eating habits, mentions of past abuse/trauma, addiction, self loathing, etc]
🎵 Do they have a noisy tummy? Is there anything unique or notable about the sounds their tummy makes? - i dont think theres anything too special about his tummy noises but it does have a lot to say. he either neglects to eat or eats absolute garbage, has a tendency to eat too much garbage in one sitting, chews a lot of gum (alternative to smoking) & gets bloaty from it, etc he does not treat his poor tummy kindly & it has no issue with speaking up about it
🏃 Do they eat faster or slower than average? If so, are there consequences? - he tends to eat way too fast & winds up 1. full of air and 2. too full bc he ate too fast for the fullness to catch up with him until its too late
🤬 How do they act when they're hungry? When they're too full? Which is worse? - he tends to be relatively quiet in his suffering so neither is awful. he forgets/works through/skips meals often enough that its just standard business for him, he'll be tired & achy & low energy but not That much more than usual. too full is probably worse bc a belly full of crap may incapacitate him for a while & then hes all sad & miserable
🥺 How do they feel emotionally when they eat too much? - shitty ! his lousy ex husband bill always made him feel awful about himself for overeating, putting on weight, etc & that mean-ass voice is still in his head. & he also feels like a stupid asshole for putting himself into that situation
🫢 Do they have any kind of belly kink or awareness of it? Do any of the characters around them? - i dont think so, although shel is very fond of his tummy but not necessarily in a kink way
📅 How frequently do they get into tummy shenanigans? - All The Dam Time [see first question] its rare for his tummy to Not feel at least a little crappy or be at least a little bloaty
🫥 Are they able to hide their hunger? Do they try to? - he tries & he usually succeeds at least until his belly starts growling enough to notice. cant hide it from shelly tho that guy can read him like a book
🤢 Are they able to hide it when they're too full? Do they try to? - Not At All. he tries to downplay it but he cant even try to hide it bc its useless. his tummy sticks out so much
🛌 What's the number one thing they want when they're too full? (belly rubs, sleep it off, lay down, etc) - mostly he just wants Comfort. wants someone to hold him so gentle. & if he feels all yucky n queasy he wants to sleep it off
🕒 What's the longest they've gone without eating? How did they feel? - probably like a day and brother . He Did Not Feel Awesome
break bc it straight up will not let me put all this in one block
🥘 What's the most they've eaten in one sitting? How did they feel afterwards? - i have 2 scenarios in my brain. one is the time someone talked him into weight watchers & he snapped like 3 days in & ate a ton of random crap in the middle of the night and the other is eating an entire pizza in one evening for no good reason. hes a little guy and in both scenarios his belly is so distended he can barely move. hurts and feels like a dumbass
🍽️ What's the most they can eat without getting a bellyache? - Good Quastion it depends on What hes eating. i think if he goes out for lunch somewhere & gets like a decent-sized sandwich & fries or some shit he can finish the whole thing & be just about at his limit before it becomes uncomfortable
🛑 Do they tend to stop eating when they're comfortably full, or do they keep going? Why? - he has a tendency to go overboard for various reasons. knows the food wont stay good any longer, eating his feelings, cant stop picking at it, etc
🧑⚕️ Do they usually ask for comfort when they don't feel good, or does somebody just know to comfort them? - hes too ashamed to ask for comfort. he feels awful making anyone worry about him. lucky for him shel knows when he needs a little extra care
💝 Do they want comfort when they don't feel good--even if they won't admit it--or do they prefer to deal with it alone? - he wants comfort So Bad even tho he doesnt think he deserves it & doesnt wanna worry anyone he wants nothing more than to be held & comforted when he feels shitty
😢 Are there any specific foods that upset their belly? - i dont think theres anything really Specific & his body is so used to eating like shit that its more the quantity of whatever hes eating than the food itself
🎈 Do they ever find themselves feeling bloated from something other than food? (swallowed air, too much liquid, period, illness, etc) - swallowed air is a big one, both bc of the fast eating & the gum, and liquid is also one. it doesnt really come up in my writing much but he is a (semi-recovering) alcoholic & this naturally causes some considerable bloating
🍎 If the goal was to eat as much of one food as possible, what food would they choose? Why? - i dont know if its the Best choice but i think hed go fries. that guy can put away some fries. even when his belly is absolutely stuffed he cant stop pickin at fries
👕 Have they ever had a belly-induced wardrobe malfunction? (popped button, shirt riding up, etc) How did they feel about it? - almost certainly. his empty tummy is nothing to write home about but it gets Impressively big, bordering on looking pregnant, if hes really full/bloated. i dont have a specific scenario in mind but whatever it was hed be absolutely mortified, even if nobody witnessed it
😈 Have they ever gotten into tummy shenanigans on purpose, for their own pleasure or somebody else’s? - no. he doesnt need to tho bc it happens by accident enough
😝 How would they feel if someone teased them for being hungry? For being too full? - he can laugh at himself a little when hes hungry but if someone teased him for overeating hed probably cry
😟 Are they shy about their belly for any reason? - he Hates his belly he thinks its so ugly. all he can see when he looks at it is this pasty doughy un-masculine mommybelly. he hates how chubby it is he hates the stretch marks he hates his dumb little appendectomy scar & bill Really hammered it into his head that his body is unappealing, esp after having their baby
🖼️ How would someone close to them describe their belly, in appearance or otherwise? - to contrast that last response, shel would describe his tummy as Absolutely Adorable and soft and pillowy and warm and squeezable and very nice to touch
🕴️ Is there a certain type of situation that frequently results in tummy shenanigans for them? - some days he'll go to wawa after work for a snack/dinner & overestimate how much he can eat bc hes starving. winds up getting a bunch of greasy crap & giving himself a bellyache
⚖️ Has their weight changed at all over the years? How do they feel about it? - hes never been really skinny but hes def put on some weight over the years. he mightve been ok with it if bill hadnt been so awful to him about it but alas
🫄 Has there ever been a time when their belly was so bloated that it got in their way/made a task difficult? - his belly sticks out Far when hes really bloated. things like washing the dishes when his bellys pushing against the counter, trying to reach to the bottom of the washing machine, etc become Awkward And Uncomfortable
🧐 Is it obvious when they’ve overeaten, be it by the appearance of their belly, their behavior, etc? - even if his belly wasnt Crazy Distended i think itd still be clear that whatevers in there is weighing him down, esp if its something really heavy thats got him feeling kinda queasy
🍔 Has another person ever caused them to overeat deliberately or unintentionally? - shel has def gotten him to eat too much unintentionally. not his fault he wants leon to eat good food for once🤷
🫧 How do they feel about burping in front of others? Does it happen often? - i think it happens fairly frequently with the amount of air he swallows & he tries to keep it quiet or swallow it back down bc hes a little embarrassed about it
☹️ Have they ever forced themself to finish eating something that they didn’t want to finish? - probably, if he didnt think he was gonna be able to save it for later. doesnt wanna waste it & if nobodys around to share it with hes gonna cram it in
😍 Does anybody give their belly extra attention even when it feels perfectly fine? How do they feel about it? - shel is all over his tummy he Loves that thang. leons all bashful about it but it Does make him feel loved & it helps to combat some of those negative thoughts since shels affection is so genuine
💭 Have they ever had a memorable tummy shenanigans incident that other people still bring up to this day? - i think he once overate at a work party & popped a button upon sitting down. hell on earth humiliation. one of his annoying coworkers still brings it up from time to time. he wants to bite her head off
🚗 Does their tummy get upset from things other than food or hunger? (nerves, vehicles, etc) - he gets carsick if hes not the one driving. nerves probably also but thats indistinguishable from any other aspect of his day to day life
🛏️ Does anybody ever use their tummy as a pillow? If so, how do they feel about it? What’s it like for the other person? - shellyyyyy i just Know shels using his belly as a pillow its so soft & plush & cozy he'll fall asleep on it so fast esp bc leons playing with his hair while hes layin there. & then leons Stuck There. he thinks its kinda sweet tho
🙄 Is there a certain type of recurring tummy shenanigan that they’re notorious for? - everything .
🫱 Do they like having their belly touched? In what circumstances, if any? - hes a little skittish about it even with shel bc of The Insecurity & also bc bill would like jab n pinch him so sometimes he still flinches a little (shel wants to hunt bill down & skin him alive every time that happens) but he Does like when shel rubs his belly once he settles into it
#message#xleonx#xshelx#THANK YOU ................................ SORRY IF THIS IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE#some of the questions become a little repetitive when its all applied to one character but we make do#ask game replies
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disabled (mentally) culture is being totally able to do the thing but because you do the thing in a different way that means its somehow bad.
undiagnosed/undersupported disabled culture is creating ones own accommodations or alternative ways of doing things like having water bottle with a straw because it's easier or only wearing pajamas or jeggings because or athletic because jeans are too scratchy. or covering ones ears because the noise is too loudy even if headphones would have been more socially acceptable. or chewing on erasers because it's the only thing that helps you focus because gum was banned and not being given suggestions for non-erasers oral-stim alternatives, simply "don't chew that it's bad," isn't going to fucking work and makes me feel worse and want to chew more.
For some, undersupported disabled have "self-medicating" with criminalized substances because they don't know, or even been blocked access to, alternatives, and are more likely to become addicted to things because their brain is on survival mode.
Disabled dealing with ableism and productivity-culture is being forced to push past one's own biological indications of needing a break and then that being the standard of "see, this person did this thing, clearly this person is fine." Which, need I say, is a tactic that the enslaved had to deal with in the U.S. It is dangerous to normalize any person or persons as feeling half-sick, and this stereotype still leads to black depression being underrecognized because former enslavers and their kin got used to seeing black people being sad.
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#disabled culture#disabled culture is#mentally disabled culture#mentally disabled culture is#mentally disabled#sensory issues#tw addiction
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as i had promised before, finally im writing a post about my thoughts on catcf
sorry it's quite messed up, i'm gonna talk about a lot of things, compare the movie to the book and their takes on the characters and their fate. also i'd like to remind that it's all entirely subjective and based on my feelings only!! also i have seen the movie and read the book in russian translation so might have missed some details lost in translation. sorry if anything offends you, i didn't intend it and im open to discussions ,,,
AUGUSTUS GLOOP
he didn't seem to have much time and personality both in the book and in the movie? wasn't his only character trait and only vice that he eats a lot? (my highest kin) what did he even do wrong? he was told that everything in the room was edible so he actually started eating everything? what a crime
in the movie they tried to fix him or exactly make him worse and showed him being mean to charlie; but the oompaloompas don't criticize him for that but instead for being FAT AND STUPID!!!! i don't think he was that deserving his fate especially comparing him to other kids, but at the same time his punishment seemed the lightest? sure he was scared when he was sucked into the pipe, but in the end he seemed to be happy? he didn't end up that traumatized and even managed to enjoy some chocolate
VIOLET BEAUREGARD
when i watched the movie for the first time, i wondered why her song shows her as a bad person not because of her competitiveness, arrogance or obsession with victory but.... for chewing too much gum?? the book gave me the answer to this question: book violet doesn't have almost any personality aside her chewing gum addiction; it was mentioned that she holds a record for chewing gum but it wasn't really emphasized?
so i liked how they developed this part of violet in the movie making her obsessed with competitions and prizes, while leaving some details showing it's the pressure of her family which forced her to be like that. she's still a grotesque caricature supposed to be annoying but she's a much more colourful (?) and memorable character there imo.
VERUCA SALT
such a cute and annoying at the same time spoiled material gurrrrl both in the movie and the book i love her portrayal sm. also i like how her song showcases that her parents are responsible for spoiling her and they share the same punishment
and that episode in the movie when she befriended violet with a nasty smile . such an iconic moment i adored it
MIKE TEAVEE
i adored him hes such a funny little brat!!! but his song with the whole "television bad books good" message is understandable in the book but when you hear it in a MOVIE youre watching ON THE TV that makes no sense
btw i like how in the book they showcase the problem of parents who ignore their children and would rather let them spend all day in front of the tv than communicate with them. that implies mike has some family issues as well too bad it wasn't shown in the movie
WILLY WONKA
book and movie versions of wonka are quite different but i love them both equally willy is such an amazing character :c
book wonka seems to be just an easygoing guy in a constant silly goofy mood who actually cares about the children but just lets it slide as he knows they won't be harmed?
movie wonka on the other hand seems more whimsy and cursed??? he appears creepy and threatening, with some sadistic vibes even, and behind his appearance of a funny eccentric mememan making cannibalism jokes, he hides SUFFERING and deep childhood traumas
i liked how they made wonka's character more deep and dramatic, but the question is - does a character like him really need this tragic backstory? what does this twist add to the whole story? i shall return to this question a bit later
CHARLIE BUCKET
book charlie is sweet but looks like he was supposed to be an unpersonalized character so that every reader could associate him with themselves... so hes a bit bland and lacks some individuality imo :c sure we see his generosity (hes willing to share his chocolate with his starving family) and kindness (he's worried about what will happen to other kids - i almost cannot remember that in the movies) but through the course of the plot he does almost nothing but feeling qUeEr fEeLinGs about the wonders of the factory and not getting himself into trouble
in the book there's no problem in bringing all charlie's relatives to the factory - so he doesn't face the dilemma of leaving his family to become the heir of the factory or staying with his loved ones. but in the movie that's a major problem and a whole new plotline! we can see charlie's doubts and insecurity, wonka's contradictive feelings taking him over, find out the reasons behind wonka's rejection of family - and it's charlie who helps him.
this plotline is even more important for charlie's character development rather than wonka: we see charlie in action, we see how caring he is, how much he is willing to sacrifice for his family, see his sincere desire to help wonka feel happier...
the final scene gives such a warm feeling it sends me to tears,,,,, finally willy wonka is not alone...
FINAL THOUGHTS
speaking about the message of the story? i felt that the book told that one must be kind and generous to reach happiness? the movie sure has that idea too but it's sorta more focused on the importance of family and not being alone?"
once again im unsure about the book :c tbh as the protagonist doesn't have much of a personality and actions, it seemed to me at times that the message is one must be rule-following and not getting into trouble ?? also replace tv and chewing gum with youtube and idk energy drinks - and it can easily turn into a conservative pamphlet on how the new generation is bad and amoral - but it doesn't seem like one thanks to the genius of roald dahl!! his manner of writing and sense of humour is fantastic
so in conclusion i prefer the movie to the book (for the first time in my life ahhahha) but idk if they're actually worth being compared ... and of course i don't think the book is worse or anything - it's just not really my cup of tea i guess? though i still enjoyed it a lot and had a great time reading it ^^
thank you for attention!!! if you think i was wrong in some aspects feel free to correct me ,, and once again id like to remind that it's not some kind of analysis just my personal thoughts and feelings and it may differ from yours
have a nice day!
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I am
I am Marylin Manson and Julia Jacklin
I am Tolstoy and T.S. Elliot
I am tanned leather, brass, and lucite
I am hotel suites, vip parking, and charges to the room
I am white gloves, table cloths, and fine china
I am reservations, and plane tickets
I am the resort, and the last resort
I am lamb skin, and alpaca. I am 3000-thread-count sheets
I am first dates, milkshakes, wedding cakes, and roller skates
I am the beauty and the beast
I am the warning light on your dashboard
I am the water in your gas tank
I am the squad car tailgating your for 3-miles
I am the window you roll-up when driving through that neighborhood
I am the longest red light you've ever stopped at
I am the new coffee shop, bar, boutique hotel
I am the {insert local hangout spot here}
I am the crack in the houses foundation
I am the crack, the house, and the Foundation
I am the day before World War 3
I am Doo-Wop and Hip-Hop
I am baby Jesus and methuselah
I am the bottle of urine beside your bed
I am the pistol.
I am the addict in the attic.
I am the needle and I am the thread
I am the pawn shop you gave grandmas ring to
I am the long pull on your vape between shifts.
I am the 9-5 and the 6-10.
I am the check in the mail
I am the pit and I am the bull
I am the artificial flavor in your chewing gum
I am the friend that was too young to die
I am the fellow and I am the ship
I am Othello and Hans Christian-Andersen
I am the side effect worse than the symptom
I am tea parties and vineyards
I am the used condom on the sidewalk
I am the heat death of our quantum existence
I am…too abstract?
I am too black but not black enough
I am queer but not gay enough.
I am qualified but not good enough.
I am big-nosed, bald-headed, unwashed, and unbothered.
I am untethered.
I am the creation and I am the demiurge
I am the igneous and I am the firmament
I am the Borg
I am the paper your suicide note was written on
I am the last time you saw your father
I am the last thing he said to you
I am the couch you let him crash on for a few months
I am the new security code you created when he left
I am the storage unit you change clothes in before and after work
I am the blanket you’re wrapped up in while asleep in your car
I am the gift that I never see you wear
I am the pot calling the kettle…
I am the "come get me," text at 3am
I am the "you up," text you left on read
I am the unsaved number in your phone
I am the abomination and the salvation of creation
I am the mustard and I am the seed
I am the last ps5 at Walmart on Black Friday
I am Mozart and Chopin
I am rock, roll, and Rachmaninoff
I am Coltrane and Gillespie
I am the kidnap and I am the torture
I am the human and I am the traffic
I am the sex and I am the worker
I am the murder and I am the manhunt
I am Samson’s dreadlocks
I am the dog bark that wakes you from that fever dream
I am the fever dream
I am the con and I am the science
I am the jack and all of his trades
I am the Coke and I am the cane
I am the stop sign behind that big ass fuckin tree.
I am the cop. I am the ticket.
I am the vegan recipe book you haven’t opened yet
I am the first parallel park in that city you moved to
I am the popping sound in your kneecap
I am the fake number she gave you
I am the burning cross on your front lawn
I am the white hood
I am the "whites-only" section
I am the assailant and I am the victim
I am the rotten avocado on your kitchen counter
I am the clown and I am the circus
I am bibles and black holes
I am holding your sweater
I am the first kiss
I am the divorce papers
I am the Sailor and I am the Siren
I am the solitary onion ring in your order of French fries
I am the diet that starts tomorrow
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ALRIGHT, i went back to find the nct songs i liked and there's actually more than i remembered.
good thing by nct 127 it's fun. has those weird ass instrumentals you expect from nct, but its also fairly catchy. the chorus is kinda weak but overall it kinda grows on me as i listen to it. i dont think i'll ever listen to it much though, as i do get bored of it really fast
i like chewing gum by nct dream. it's fun. i don't have any strong feelings on it nor do i go back to it very frequently but i always have a fun time when i listen to it, it's very catchy, and i can see someone finding it annoying but i think if you like cutesy music you'll like this one, it's such a fun time. it was nice to revisit it.
i hate that im admitting this but i love simon says by nct 127 </3 its honest to god not very good, and i cannot listen to it too much before i get annoyed at it. i definitely enjoy it in a guilty pleasure kind of way. the silly lyrics really get to me, and idk, its a pretty energetic song. it rlly is just noise but like, i find it sooo catchy and addictive. which is weird, because i did listen to simon says a few years ago and i remember disliking it. and like i still dont think its all that great, but now i actually do enjoy it. maybe that just means my taste has gotten worse.
and then we get to the stuff that i genuinely unapologetically love.
my first and last by nct dream is really cute, i enjoy it a lot. it has a very strange sound to it??? but it somehow works? it's very fun. wouldn't necessarily recommend it to just about anyone lmao, like i said, it does sound kinda strange, but i think the more the song progresses the more it works. i kinda really struggled to figure out how i felt about it but the more i listen to it the more i like it.
i really like dream launch by wayv. it's so soothing and pleasant, it's just really relaxing? i can definitely see myself listening to it a lot more in the future, especially if i want something more lighthearted and slow.
and FINALLY we get to nct u, and i actually might listen to one of their albums at some point? i just kinda like their vibes. like idk why the songs for this particular subunit have worked so well for me but so far, it's just been good.
first there's boss, which i just think it's fun to listen to. it's kinda addictive in the way simon says is, but also just has a much more pleasant instrumental and is just... a better song overall lol. the vocals in this one are VERY nice to listen to. i like the balance between the rap and the vocals more than i usually do in nct's songs. the chorus is fun.
baby don't stop is still a queen of a song. i loooove the instrumental so much, the whispering works extremely well, it's just got a really good rhythm to it. this song fucks, i will never get sick of her.
YESTODAY IS SO GOOD???? bro. bro. its so good. i can listen to it over and over again, they went so hard with this one and for what. it's definitely a much softer song than what they usually put out. it's sooo relaxing and i think the instrumental is pretty interesting, as simple as it is. the rap sounds very good in this one too! for once, i think the rap is definitely one of the highlights. much to like about this one imo. yestoday my beloved, im so glad i have u in my life <3 it also has a very pretty music video, so i recommend checking that out.
without you is also so good. like yes i admit that its very generic, as in there are a million of other songs like it BUT that doesnt contradict it being really good. it's fun, its pleasant, ITS VERY VOCAL HEAVY WHICH IS WHAT I WISH NCT WOULD GIVE ME WITH THE VOICES THEY HAVE.... this one doesn't even have a rap, its just the vocalists.... i love this song, i dont care. i reallyyy like this style for them which is kinda devastating because I KNOW this isnt what nct puts out in general but oh well. im very normal about without you....
so those are the nct songs that i think are worth listening to, if u care to check them out.
Oh I just listened to good thing and I liked it, esp the instrumental (particularly that part towards the end where the synth comes in). It's kinda repetitive and yeah, the chorus is underwhelming, but minus those aspects I enjoyed it
Chewing gum is a cute song, Idk if I'd listen to it that often. Once again the chorus is the culprit here, I liked specific parts of the song but the chorus was meh 😭
I mostly didn't have any strong feelings on simon says, except for the bless me achoo line which was so fucking funny (and the other lyrics I occasionally paid attention to). There was one high note that I thought was rlly good tho
I liked my first and last, it was a cute song! It's upbeat but it sounds like one of those songs that is meant to make u nostalgic. It was released only 5 years ago but it somehow feels v early-2010s
I think so far my fave song from this batch is dream launch, I rlly liked it. My only exposure to wayv is thru their iconic song love talk, and dream launch is p diff from that, so out of curiosity I might just go and check out their other songs. Anyway dream launch is going straight to my playlist
Why does the intro from boss slap so hard??? Overall I liked the song, it had some parts that I liked a Lot, and I also jive w the instrumental. I def can see the simon says parallels and yeah absolutely, I prefer boss over simon says
Help, I confused baby don't stop w another nct song, baby don't like it 😭😭. Why do they have 2 songs w the same gimmick (trick question obvs we all know why). I thought it was alright, I wouldn't necessarily go out of my way to listen to it again, but the whispers were a cool addition
THE SAXOPHONE AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF YESTODAY....I agree, the rap was a highlight here, I rlly liked the song. The instrumental gives me vaporwavey vibes, which is def diff than nct's usual vibe. I'm gonna go listen to this one again
Ok so I already have without you in my playlist, and I WILL defend it as a generic song. My fave part of the song is the intro bc of how the vocals are showcased, the rest of the song is generic but what's important is that the vocals are amazing
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After Tooth Extraction, Recovery
After having your teeth pulled, you may need to rest. There are a few things you can do to lessen the discomfort, though. First, stay away from smoking and hot foods. Antibiotics and over-the-counter painkillers for tooth pain can also be avoided. To reduce swelling, you can either chew on a piece of gauze or a caffeinated tea bag.
Smoking can have a number of negative impacts on the recovery from tooth extraction. It first affects the gum tissue and reduces bone density, which could cause more difficulties. Additionally, smoking following tooth removal may raise the risk of dental caries and tooth decay. Smokers also run the danger of breaking or shattered teeth from loose fillings. This could result in an infection, which would make things worse.
Smoking also hastens the development of a dry socket, which slows down the healing process. Smokers may also feel pain when their eye sockets deteriorate. Smoking can alter hemoglobin proteins and decrease blood flow to the socket. Therefore, it's crucial to stop smoking following tooth extraction.
Avoiding spicy and acidic meals after tooth extraction will help your mouth heal properly. These meals may aggravate the injury and exacerbate the pain. Additionally, stay away from chewy items like chips and nuts. Consult your dentist if you're unsure about whether you should consume certain meals or not.
Even though it could be tempting, it's crucial to keep in mind that you're still in the recuperation phase. You should wait at least two days before eating any hot or spicy foods, even though most people can eat a range of dishes within a few hours. Your gums will heal more quickly and there will be less risk of infection or setback if you do this.
When used for tooth extraction, over-the-counter painkillers can have dangerous negative effects. By changing the signals supplied by pain receptors, these drugs have an impact on the brain. Side effects from them include muscle rigidity, hallucinations, constipation, and dizziness. They may also result in opioid addiction. Fortunately, dentists are specialists in pain control and can guide you toward the best pain control option for your circumstances.
Opioid painkillers including Vicodin, Percocet, Tylenol with codeine, and Tylenol No. 3 are frequently prescribed by dentists. However, if taken in excess, these drugs can kill you or seriously harm your liver.
Taking antibiotics during tooth extraction may, according to some data, lower the chance of infection, but it's crucial to remember that the safety of such medications is unclear. It is crucial to consider the patient's health and overall risk level, as well as the danger of infection and adverse effects.
To avoid any potential drug interactions, it's crucial to speak with your doctor before taking any of the following medications: Numerous antibiotics, including creams and over-the-counter versions, may interact with other drugs. These include ticlopidine, heparin, warfarin, apixaban, rivaroxaban, Xarelto, and dabigatran.
A clot will develop at the extraction site within the first 24 hours of the procedure. The formation of this clot is crucial to the healing process. The time it takes for the area to fully recover can range from five to ten days. Be sure to adhere to your oral surgeon's recommendations as you heal. You can ensure optimal recovery and reduce the likelihood of complications by adhering to these guidelines.
Recovering from a tooth extraction requires maintaining proper oral hygiene. Because they are exposed, the oral tissues are vulnerable to infection and other disorders. Regular brushing and flossing might aid in keeping the area tidy. Also, it's very important to wait at least 24 hours before using mouthwash or floss to clean your teeth.
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Almost Always
Benny “Borracho” Magalon x F!Reader
AN: Part two to this piece. The usual warning for typos.
CW: Angst; mention of drugs; frank talk about addiction; talk of infidelity; smut (oral, m!receiving; PiV; protected); 18+ only.
Word Count: 8001 (this shit got away from me)
Benny Magalon is not just a detective—he’s a detective with an extremely elite squad. He’s got years of experience, and he can say without an ounce of bragging that he’s good at his job. He can put together solid cases with solid evidence, and his conviction rate is impressive even by Major Crimes standards.
Still.
He can’t figure you out. You’re the one case he can’t quite crack, though he does have tons of evidence. Problem is, it’s all circumstantial. It wouldn’t hold up in court.
The first month with Major Crimes, there’s friction. No one is shocked by it: the team has been the same for years, so any new person would have to carve out their place on the team. Moreover, you’re the first woman to ever work in Major Crimes. The guys are barely housebroken, let alone gentlemanly.
You pick your battles. You’re smart about it. By Benny’s estimate, you let about five things slide for each thing you call out. You overlook the half-naked women tacked up on Big Nick’s corkboard. You overlook the casual misogyny on display when Zapata talks about his latest ex. You overlook the way Henderson openly ogles the waitress when you all go out to lunch together.
You don’t overlook their use of the word ‘cunt.’ Seems to be a sticking point for you. When Connors calls a possible suspect a ‘cunt,’ you remark—rather dryly—that the suspect didn’t have the warmth or depth to be a cunt, in your opinion.
Benny bites back a smile at that, and he notes that Connors rolls his eyes—but drops the term from his vocabulary afterwards, at least in front of you.
-----
Benny sits back and observes, which is his usual habit, though he watches you more closely. You sit just out of his line of sight, over in the corner, but if he turns a fraction, he can see you.
It seems so unlikely that his hookup from the casino—the one that haunted his thoughts afterwards, the anonymous fuck who somehow burrowed into his head—would also be the newest detective. The new hire, the former U.S. marshal. It’s a small fucking world, and now that Benny knows who you are, he is unsure how to proceed.
He knows your name now. Your address. The color of your eyes, which he hadn’t noted at the casino. The way you take your coffee, the car you drive. What your handwriting looks like, what you drink when the team goes out after work. The nervous tics you have, the way you tap your pen against your lower lip when you’re thinking. How you chew honest-to-god bubble gum – the pink stuff that slams Benny straight back to elementary school with the bright scent of it, and how you snap little bubbles when you’re sitting on a stake-out with him.
The way you approach police work, which is very similar to his own—old-school, feet on the pavement, run down the leads police work. Nick often pairs the two of you up, when a case needs a solid pair.
He doesn’t know anything real though. You are tight-lipped about your personal life: you share how many miles you run each morning, but Benny doesn’t know if your parents are alive. If you have siblings. If you’ve been married. What the landscape of your romantic life has been—both before you hooked up with him in a cabana in Lincoln, and afterwards.
-----
A month passes. Another month. What evidence does Benny have?
The easiest is his own: that bit of madness, that hookup that haunted him? Every day just makes it worse. He realizes almost immediately that his gut was right about you, all those months ago at the casino. There’s something about you. You pull his attention and crowd his thoughts.
Days off, he fights the urge to text you. He half-wishes for a work emergency to call everyone in.
Harder to parse out is the evidence he has on you. On good days, he thinks you may be into him. Maybe. You call everyone by their last names—Connors and Henderson and Zapata. You call him Benny.
Does that mean something? On a good day, yes. On a good day, he convinces himself that you call him Benny because he’s different. He’s better than the others. You know him, and maybe you think of him too.
On a bad day, no. When he’s feeling low and lonely, disgruntled by a case, he’s certain that Benny is just easier to say than Magalon or Borracho. Fewer syllables. But that doesn’t necessarily prove out, because you always call Henderson by his last name (three syllables) instead of his first, Gus (one syllable). The theory doesn’t hold.
Benny is reaching, and he knows it.
What else? Well, when the two of you are paired up, you bring him coffee and a breakfast sandwich from the café near your house. Every time. It’s the same dark roast, the same egg and bacon and smoked gouda on an English muffin. As far as he knows, you don’t do that when you’re paired up with the others. But you always wave him off when he tries to give you money for it, like it’s no big deal. If it’s not a big deal to you, then maybe he’s reading too much into it.
The single biggest piece of evidence, though, is this: the two of you had hooked up, but since you joined the team, you haven’t broached the subject even once. It’s as if it never happened at all.
-----
It takes a few months before you join the guys in one of their parties. You’ve always been invited, but you don’t turn up for the first few months.
When you finally do turn up at the hotel, everyone makes a big deal about it. The guys tease you, joke that you’re one of the hired girls (that earns Connors a middle finger). Zapata does a mocking little bow, like you’re royalty deigning to grace them with your presence, and that earns him your other middle finger.
It’s interesting to see you there. These parties have always just been the guys being guys: booze and poker and women. He watches you survey the room, watches as you take in the coffee table with the messy piles of coke and weed. Watches you study the hired women with your cool detective’s eye. He thinks, sometimes, that you don’t quite like your new squad, and he swears he can see judgement behind your neutral expression.
Still, you don’t say anything. And you’re one of them now, so they know you’ll never rat them out to the brass. Instead, you help yourself to a beer and then settle across the card table from Benny.
“What’s the game, boys?” you ask, and Zapata answers.
“Texas hold ‘em, new girl. Poker.”
Suddenly it’s like that night at the casino. You pull on that damned routine, the clueless sweetheart act. “I’ve never played poker before,” you say, and only Benny knows that it’s a lie. Worse, you know that he knows, because you drop him a wink when no one else is looking. You trust him to keep his mouth shut. To let the chips falls where they may, both literally and figuratively.
“We’ll be gentle,” Big Nick jokes, and the guys laugh at that.
By the end of the night, the guys aren’t laughing anymore. You clean them out after stringing them along with your inexperienced act. It puts Benny in mind of when he was a kid and used to go fishing with his grandpa: the way you ease out the line, let them take a nibble, and then reel them in.
But then you take your winnings and divvy them up between the hired girls. You give them a hell of a payday for not a lot of work, which makes the guys grumble even more.
Not Benny though. He catches your eye and gifts you with a smile that you return with one of your own.
-----
The gambling though….the gambling.
It sticks in Benny’s craw, as his grandpa used to say.
You go to Vegas once a month. The way schedules fall, everyone gets a three-day weekend at least once a month, and you usually go to Vegas for yours. Benny guesses that you aren’t clearing any world-changing amounts, but it’s not the card-counting that bothers him.
His working theory about you is this: you’re super competent in your day-to-day life. Your detective work is impeccable. Your cases are airtight, and it’s not just that—you’re up on everything. Even the boring shit. Admin stuff. Personnel changes. Policy updates.
You own your own home. You own a reliable car. You run every morning and do yoga twice a week. You volunteer at an animal shelter. When you go out to drink with the guys, you pace yourself and drink lots of water too. You never stumble into work late or hungover or dragging baggage from a messy personal life.
Benny guesses that you’re the type of person who flosses every day and doesn’t have to lie to the dentist about it. He’d guess you’re the only adult who is completely up-to-date on their vaccinations. You probably do your taxes at the end of January, as soon as you get your W-2 in the mail.
But that super competence comes with a price, he figures. Your trips to Vegas—like that weekend he met you, hooked up with you—is a release. A bit of pressure off the system. You are a high performer in every single aspect of your life, but you shake loose when you gamble….and when you pull in a random guy for an anonymous fuck.
So when your three-day weekend arrives every month, when you walk out of the precinct with a wave to the guys, Benny is always left feeling sick to his stomach and bleakly depressed in a way he hasn’t been since his marriage started to crumble and he and his ex-wife separated.
He’s usually able to convince himself that maybe you feel something for him. Maybe calling him Benny and buying him a breakfast sandwich and winking at him from across the poker table….maybe it all means something. But those weekends when you go away to gamble, he knows in his heart the truth: that you don’t think of that hook-up with him at all.
-----
Another month passes. Another. Before he knows it, it’s been half a year of you sitting in his almost-line of sight, and Benny Magalon is in hell.
He tries to date. He meets a woman, dates her for a month before it fizzles out. He hooks up with others here and there, and if there’s a spark of hope before each encounter, it dies out immediately afterwards. Benny feels like shit when he leaves their homes, their apartments. He goes home afterwards and stands under the stream of water in his shower and wishes he never went to that casino with the guys all those months ago.
-----
Month seven. Big Nick’s divorce is finally finalized. It was ugly, acrimonious. Knock-down, drag-out nastiness. His wife had moved on long before the papers were even drawn up, but Benny and everyone else knows: Big Nick cheated first. Cheated early, cheated often. Not unlike Zapata, or Henderson.
Not unlike Benny.
No one has ever accused the guys of Major Crimes of being good men. Good cops, good detectives—sure. Good men? Not so much.
But it’s over now. Big Nick is officially free. The guys do it up big.
Everyone passes their piss tests and then it’s on: Big Nick got the house in the divorce, so the guys have a massive party there. There’s cases of beer stacked in a corner of the garage. Cases of harder stuff. In a back bedroom that must have belonged to a daughter, painted an incongruous pink that just seems sad now, there’s party favors laid out. Coke, molly, weed.
There’s women everywhere, working girls and casual friends alike. Booming bass from the speakers in the backyard, where one of Big Nick’s partners from his patrol days grills up thick steaks and burgers.
Benny’s already halfway drunk when you show up. There’s your super-competence: you turn up with a gift. The guys just turned up, but you bring a housewarming gift, wrapped in nice paper. It’s a trio of nice-smelling candles, which is thoughtful, because the house already reeks of cigarette smoke and spilled beer.
It’s ridiculous. No wonder Benny’s in love with you.
-----
Benny’s fully drunk now. You—Miss Straight-Laced, Miss High-Achiever—shared a bowl with Henderson and are pleasantly stoned. Your eyes are red-rimmed and you’re slumped on the couch beside Benny, but you’re far chattier than you are sober.
“First divorce party I’ve ever been to,” you tell him. “Makes up for all the weddings I’ve had to suffer through.”
He cocks his eyebrow at your word choice. Suffer.
“Not a fan of the bouquet toss?” he asks.
You pull a face like a picky toddler faced with broccoli. Benny chuckles.
“Not a fan of marriage,” you say. You say it with such casual derision that it makes his hackles go up.
“It’s not all like this,” he says, gesturing broadly at the scene in front of you, the celebratory carnage of a failed marriage.
“Aren’t you divorced?”
Benny is similarly tight-lipped about his personal life, but Zapata made a joke the other day to Big Nick. Welcome to the club, brother, he had said. I’m the president and Borracho is the secretary.
“I am. So what?”
You shake your head, and Benny feels judged. It hurts more because it’s you; you’ve been crowding his thoughts for almost a year now, and you’re sitting here and judging him. His hackles go all the way up now. He’s always guarded, but now, he goes on the offensive.
“You’re a cynic,” he tells you.
You clarify. “I’m a realist. I’ve never seen a happy marriage in my life.”
He takes a deep swallow of his beer. “Bullshit.”
“Every friend I have who is married is miserable. My sisters.”
“Maybe they’re just miserable people in general,” he says a little meanly.
“Were you happy in your marriage?” you retort. “Was everything sunshine and rainbows right up until one of you filed?”
Of course it wasn’t. Benny’s marriage was miserable, but he won’t tell you that. He also won’t tell you how quickly it fell apart, how months after the wedding they were already fighting. Him working too many hours to earn his way into Major Crimes. Her in a dead-end job because she put her schooling on hold to be a cop’s wife.
He won’t tell you that he isn’t clear on who cheated first. Benny with his late nights and a home that was heavy with silence. His ex with her frustrations around her schooling, the miserable job she took to bring in enough income to keep them afloat.
It was easy for Benny to find willing women and hide them in his erratic schedule. It was just as easy for his ex to bring men into the marriage bed, since it was unoccupied by him. At least they had the good sense to get out before they had a kid.
When Benny doesn’t answer you, you nod to yourself and say, “I thought so.”
“My parents,” he snaps. “Married happily for over forty years.”
“My parents,” you reply. “My mom was a near-genius with a full ride to Cal Tech. My dad wore her down and convinced her to marry him instead. Got her pregnant three times, then started stepping out on her because—surprise, surprise—she’s tired and stressed with three fucking kids at home and no support. She should have been discovering new planets in the universe. They get divorced, then every other weekend I have to spend with my dad. I get to watch him gamble away my child support money while every other phrase out of his mouth is a complaint about my cunt of a mother.”
Benny is drunk, so he hears you, but he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t realize that you are laying out every single bit of evidence he’s been searching for, backstory that informs who you are now. He’ll realize it later. It will dawn on him in the morning when he’s dry-mouthed and queasy with a hangover and doubly sick for how this entire evening has turned on him.
But he doesn’t realize it now. He only feels judgement from you. Feels Miss Perfect looking down on him—Benny Magalon, the shitty one-time husband and cheater.
“Oh, so it’s daddy issues with you after all,” he says.
“Fuck you.” You spit out the words, enunciate them clearly so each one hits like a bullet.
He takes another sip of beer. “Already did,” he says. When you stand up without another word and march out of the room, out of the house, he feels that sick, icy feeling in his gut that he’s just fucked up in a way that can’t be fixed.
-----
If any of the guys saw the fight between you and Benny, they don’t let on. Big Nick, a few days later, pairs the two of you up on a case that has you sitting in an unmarked vehicle in front of an apartment building.
You didn’t bring him a breakfast sandwich and coffee this time. He wasn’t expecting it, after what he said, but it still stings when you climb in the car with just enough for yourself.
You’ve also gone monosyllabic on him.
While you never had heartfelt talks on stakeouts before, you did chat. You talked about your friends or your sisters, or a new dog that came into the shelter where you volunteer, or about a new running path that you found. Now you are silent, and the only sound is the snapping of your gum as you sit and stare at the apartment building.
“Looks like it might rain this weekend,” Benny ventures at one point.
“Yup.”
Later, when it’s shift change and neither of you have eaten lunch, he asks if you want to split a pizza with him at the precinct.
“Sure,” is all you say.
-----
Month nine. Benny is still in hell, and he realizes that no one is going to help him climb out. He has to do it himself.
There are two types of nicknames in the world. There’s the obvious nickname, like how they call Zapata “Z,” or how his sister’s friends call her “Mags” for Magalon. Then there’s the ironic nickname. Benny’s brother is built like a fucking tank, but almost everyone calls him “Tiny.” He has a cousin who falls for every grift and scheme—behind his back, the family calls him “Einstein.”
“Borracho” isn’t an ironic nickname.
He isn’t sure how it happened. It crept up on him; one day, he found he needed a drink to help him fall asleep. Then it became a drink to help him calm his nerves. To forget the crime scene he saw. To forget the victim. To forget the life he took when a suspect raised their gun at him.
Then it became an excuse. I only cheated because I was drunk, he convinced himself. I only hooked up with that woman because I couldn’t see straight.
His wife….she was the real cheater. She pulled strange men into her bed with clear-eyed soberness. Benny would never do that sober; he’s a good man and just had too much to drink that night…or the next…or the next.
It’s bullshit and he knows it. He always knew it, but now he can admit it to himself.
-----
Month ten. He bristles at the term “alcoholic,” but he goes to AA anyway. All the Jesus-y talk makes his skin crawl, and he never goes again.
He finds a non-religious alternative. He goes there instead. It’s all rational bullshit, but some of it makes sense. He goes on Tuesday evenings, and sometimes Saturday afternoons. He’s surprised to find that they are people just like him: no over-the-top sad-sacks, just regular ass people trying to numb the sharp edges of life a little.
He knows he’ll never be completely dry. He’s only teetering at the edge of a full-blown thing, so he learns how to dial it back slowly and carefully. Instead of three beers before bed, two. Then one. Then half of one, the remaining half going stale by morning. Out with the squad after work, he halves what he usually drinks. He layers in water, like you do.
The fog lifts. Fewer headaches, better sleep. He loses ten pounds just like that, not even trying.
-----
Month eleven. Without the crutch of alcohol, Benny has to face some hard truths. It’s like the booze was high tide, and now that it’s pulling back a little, he’s left with the stinking tide pools and debris.
The family stuff hurts. He goes to Sundays dinners and he sees everything with a clarity he never had before. Happily married for forty years? That’s what he told you about his parents, but that statement came from Benny-the-child, not Benny-the-man.
His father is a functional alcoholic. His mother is resigned to the fact, and her Catholic upbringing precludes her from making a drastic decision. She’s tied to the man, death ‘til they part, and Benny can see now how she hides her broken spirit.
Suddenly some pieces of the puzzle that is Benny Maglon fall into place. The father who always had a beer in his hand during the day; the father who tossed back shot after shot of whiskey like it was nothing.
Wasn’t it his old man who gave him his first drink? Fifteen years old, suspended for three days after getting into a scuffle at school. Split lip, cracked fingerbone, but Benny had held his own.
That first sip of beer. It tasted disgusting, but even teenaged Benny recognized in the moment that it was a rite of passage. It was the moment his father saw him as a man, so he drank the whole thing down, puked later, but came back for more. And more.
Other family stuff hurts.
Benny gave up on AA, but the making amends feels right to him. He finds his ex, knocks on her door with his palms sweating and clammy.
She looks great. She remarried and has a kid, and Benny is afforded a glimpse into what his life could have been. When he apologizes, when he comes clean, she gracefully accepts and apologizes too.
It hurts, but it feels clean. Like a festering limb has been sawn off and can finally heal.
It hurts to talk to you, but in a different way. With his ex, that was all in the past. With you, he’s mourning lost potential. What could have been.
In the past few months, you thawed to him a little. You speak in full sentences at least. You nod in greeting when you see him. It’s something.
What hasn’t changed is how he feels about you. He still wants you. He’s still in love with you. Moreover, he thinks he loves you. With the tide being out and with a new vocabulary from his recovery process, he understands what you were telling him that night of Big Nick’s party: you were deeply scarred by a traumatic childhood, and you have built thick layers around yourself so that you’ll never get hurt the way your mother was.
It’s another stakeout, this time at night. It’s an all-county manhunt, and it’s all hands on deck. LAPD. LACSD. Police from surrounding counties. You and Benny are in your vests, in an unmarked vehicle, parked outside of a rundown house in El Monte where the suspect may try to run to.
Benny clears his throat. His hands sweat again, and he swipes them along the thighs of his jeans.
“Wanted to apologize to you,” he says. “For that night at Big Nick’s divorce party.”
You shrug, go almost monosyllabic on him again. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. It was a shitty thing to say, and I’m sorry.”
“Not the worst thing a guy has said to me.” You shrug again. “It’s fine.”
He doesn’t reply. He goes silent, but you must feel some tension radiating from him because you turn and glance at him.
“Honestly, Benny,” you add. “No big deal. Water under the bridge and all that.”
He doesn’t look at you. He stares straight ahead at the dark house, at the straggly bushes in front of the porch.
“I’m a piece of shit,” he says quietly. “But I’m learning not to be.”
He hears you take a breath to reply, but there’s a crackle of static on the radio. The man-hunt is over. They took the guy alive out in San Berdoo, just over the county line. Benny answers, then starts the car. He risks a glance over at you and finds you studying him.
“Want to get a drink?” you ask him.
-----
You direct him to a cantina near your house, a little hidden away gem. He orders a beer and a water, and you do the same. You also order a platter of tacos for the two of you to share, and it feels like Benny has just skipped ahead several steps.
He drinks, but he paces himself like he does now. Only has two beers. Orders a Coke when he wants something more than water. He eats more tacos then he intends—he’s hungrier than he realized—and you order another platter with a smile.
The two of you talk. You talk so long that the place closes, so you each order a Coke to go and continue the conversation outside on the curb, as the night cedes to dawn and turns the sky a rosy color like sherbet.
He tells you almost everything. It’s a purge or a confession. Tells you about his miserable marriage, and if he felt judgement that night at Big Nick’s, he feels none now. You listen and nod and ask questions, but you don’t seem to judge.
He tells you about the drinking. The pressure from the job. He tells you about his recovery and how he feels better and also worse. He feels the best he has in years, physically, but his head is a fucking mess.
“Running is good for that,” you say. “Good for clearing out the junk in your head. If you ever want to join me, let me know.”
“I’d hold you back. I haven’t ran since my academy days.”
Another smile. “We could start slow, Benny.”
He tells you about the revelations he’s had about his family, about his childhood. Here, you nod more emphatically and punctuate his story with affirmations. You get it.
Then you talk. You apologize for that night too, and Benny waves it away just as you had. Both of you—hard to apologize, hard to accept an apology. You confirm a lot of what he’s already guessed. You had a miserable childhood and got it from both sides.
“My mom was a frustrated genius who would rant about how evil men were. And my dad was an asshole misogynist who ranted about how all women were cunts.”
You talk about how you tried to please both. You strove for an unattainable perfection for your mother and always fell just a bit short. You dampened down your feminine side, took a job in police work to please your dad. Somewhere along the way, whoever you really were got lost.
“It just fucked me up, you know?” you conclude. “Every guy I dated, it felt like there were red flags. I could never tell if it was my mom’s voice or my dad’s voice in my head, telling me to bail before I was trapped. I always end it before it gets too serious. Easier just to be alone.”
You say it matter-of-factly, but it’s the saddest fucking thing Benny’s ever heard. So you aren’t Miss Perfect after all. You’re just a regular-ass person trying to dull life’s sharp edges a little. You just do it by walling yourself off.
-----
Month twelve. A full year, an entire revolution around the sun.
You and Benny are back to solid. You halve the difference now and switch between who brings the coffee and breakfast when you’re paired up. You talk to him again, and now it’s more honest. You ask about his recovery; he encourages you to see a therapist about your own issues. You grumble but do—you find someone, and on Tuesday nights when he’s sitting in the basement of a Methodist church, you’re sitting somewhere and excising your demons too.
Depending on schedules, some weekends, you meet up. Benny starts jogging in the mornings in secret, and on the weekends, the two of you go for hikes. You never get winded before him, but he holds his own and gets a little better each time.
He feels better than he has in years. He loses another five pounds, and Connors notices. “Look at this handsome asshole,” he says one day at work. “You looking to start dating again, Borracho?”
Maybe he will. He feels good. His mind is clearer. He takes a fucking multivitamin now in the mornings. Benny Magalon, functional adult. Maybe he is someone that has something to offer a woman now.
He glances over at you when Connors makes his joke. You’re looking at him, and you gift him a smile just like the first time he saw you at the check-in at the casino hotel.
He amends his thought. Maybe he is someone that has something to offer to you.
-----
A year and two months.
It’s one of those months where yours and Benny’s three-day weekends line up. The two of you were out to lunch a few days earlier, and instead of giving your usual “headed to Vegas” spiel, you say you’re heading north.
“I have a cabin in Dorrington,” you tell him. “Thought about heading up for the long weekend.”
You take a deep breath and add, “I thought you might want to come along. If you want. Do some hiking, maybe canoe around the lake if you want.”
Benny plays it as cool as he can. “Don’t you usually go to Vegas?”
You turn and look out the window of the restaurant when you answer. “Thought about some of the things we talked about, Benny. I talked to my therapist. Maybe I learned my addiction from my dad too.”
----
He agrees to join you. Obviously. Thing is, any love he carries for you, there’s also this: you’re his closest friend. He confides in you like he doesn’t with anyone else, and he suspects he may be the same for you. He must be, if you’re inviting him to your sanctuary.
Day before, you get anxious. You show him pictures of the cabin.
“It’s not fancy,” you warn him. “It’s not like those huge mansion cabins at Lake Arrowhead. It’s two beds, one bath.”
“I’m not fancy,” he replies. He has known you for a year now, and he knows exactly what you’re doing. You’re lowering his expectations because you are terrified that you aren’t perfect.
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I promise I won’t be.”
-----
Your cabin is small, sure. It’s also charming. It’s set back in the pines, and the air is so clear that it makes Benny’s sinuses ache.
Inside, it’s all the clues in one place. Here’s who you really are. Not the half-robotic perfectionist who sleeps alone because you saw a lifetime of heartache before you were even an adult.
The mismatched furniture that is comfortable and broken in. The shelf stuffed with books. The worn-in hiking boots by the door. The mantle over the stone fireplace neatly lined with interesting things you’ve found and collected over the years. An old bottle. Sea glass. A flat piece of shale with a fossilized fern in it. A picture of you as a kid with your arms around a collie.
This is who you are, and Benny finds he loves her even more than the woman you pretend to be.
-----
You support Benny’s near-sobriety, and you’ve turned him onto the strange world of craft sodas. Another glimpse of who you are: the stacked cases of root beers, colas, and cream sodas. Maybe Benny’s just trading in one addiction for another, booze for cane sugar, but fuck if ginger cider beer doesn’t go down a hundred times smoother than a Bud Lite.
He sits on your porch and sips at a bottle. You have one too, and you drink between circuits from the grill to the kitchen and back. He offers to help, but you wave him off. He’s a guest, and you’d be horrified to make him work.
It’s peaceful here. Quiet. The air smells like Christmas with all the pine, and Benny thinks he could see this life for himself. Maybe he could retire here. A quiet place with good food and good company and fresh air.
“Dinner’s ready,” you tell him, breaking his reverie.
It happens over dinner. He’s halfway through the feast you’ve made: the rosemary grilled chicken, grilled peaches with soft cheese drizzled with honey, a salad tossed with nuts and berries. He can’t blame the booze because there is none. He could blame the single cigarette he smoked, but nicotine doesn’t hit him like that.
He assumes it’s the jeans you’re wearing: he swears they are the same worn-in comfortable ones you wore at the hotel check-in. The same tear above the knee, showing off a bit of smooth thigh.
There’s only one thing he hasn’t confessed to you.
“I thought about you a lot after we hooked up,” he admits. He stares down at his plate when he says it. “I thought about you all the time, and I almost looked you up. Find out who you were.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Didn’t want to be a creep.”
You hum at that, and he sees you take another bite of your chicken out of the corner of his eye. Watches you chew with a thoughtful look on your face. When you swallow, you say, “I thought about looking you up too.”
He lifts his head and looks at you directly. You gaze back at him, then give a sheepish shrug.
“I thought about you a lot too. Then when I turned up to Major Crimes and you were there, I felt embarrassed. Like, ‘here’s your hookup and now you have to work with him.’”
He gives a single bark of joyless laughter. “Then you got to know me and was like, ‘nah, never mind with this asshole.’”
You shake your head. “Not at all. That fight at Big Nick’s aside, I only liked you more and more. And that fight…well, you were drunk and I was stoned. Not a great combination.”
What you’re saying is rearranging his worldview. He thought it was all one-sided, but he was wrong. He can only sit and stare at you like a fucking chump when you tell him.
“Of course I fell for you, Benny,” you say. “I was just walled off and terrified of letting you in.”
There’s a long stretch of silence where you only stare at each other. He blinks and tries to think of a single word to say. You fiddle with your fork.
“I’ve sabotaged every relationship I’ve been in,” you say. “I always fuck it up on purpose. I wanted to say something to you, but I was scared.”
“I assumed I was just a hook-up,” he manages. “Gambling, then fucking some random guy. Thought that was your thing.”
You snort. “I can count on one hand the one-night stands I’ve had.”
You hold up your hand, palm out. “One, Benny Magalon.” You fold down your fingers and leave your index finger pointing in the air. You don’t say anything else and you let your words sink into his thick fucking skull.
“Bullshit,” he breathes out. “You’re full of shit.”
“Believe me or not. There was something about you that night. I wanted you the moment I saw you.”
“And now?”
“There’s something about you, Benny. And I want you all the time.”
-----
His single regret from that night is that is happened so fast. No time to strip you naked, no time to do much other than fuck you.
The two of you don’t make it any further than your couch, but he gets so much more than that first night.
He unbuttons his shirt. He watches as you take off your t-shirt, the way your tits look in their microfiber bra when you stretch and toss the shirt aside. The way they look when you bend down to push your jeans to your feet and kick them away. You��re faster than him, and you kiss him as you help him along. The undershirt, the jeans. He’s left in his boxers, and you palm him through the cotton until he groans.
“Shit, baby,” he says. “Slow down a little.”
You push him down until he’s sitting on the couch. You sink onto the carpet and kneel between his legs. You push his thighs apart, and he’s already so hard. A consequence of his cleaner living—he doesn’t have to work too hard to will an erection into existence anymore.
“Just for a little bit, okay? I didn’t get to before.”
He nods, doesn’t quite believe what’s happening. The cabana the night of the hookup had been dark, but here he can see everything. The heavy-lidded look of desire on your face. The way you bite your lip in concentration as you free his cock from its confines. The small moment where you take the rubber band off of your wrist and use it to tie up your hair.
And when you bend your head to him. He’s never had a blow job like this; most of his partners just put their mouths on him and bobbed their heads, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible.
You take your time. You tease him. The first thing he feels is your breath against him, then little kittenish licks to the aching tip. You trail the tip of your tongue down his length, crown to base, tracing the vein that runs along the curve of him. The flat of your tongue next, laving at him, licking against the sensitive underside.
When you finally engulf him with your mouth, he has to close his eyes for a second. It feels too good.
When he opens his eyes again, there you are. His dream girl from over a year ago. The woman he couldn’t dislodge from his head. He thought you were perfect, but you’re messy and damaged too—you just hide it better. He feels that sick wave of love course through him as you swallow him inch by inch, never taking your own eyes off of him.
In that moment, Benny Magalon promises himself that he’ll convince you to marry him one day.
He tries to relax, but he is desperate to not come yet. And you feel so fucking good—your lips curved around him in a smile, your cheeks hollowed out when you suck against him. Your tongue tracing hieroglyphs against him as you bob your head.
He can feel his orgasm approaching, so he reaches down. He cups your cheek, runs his thumb over your cheekbone. You feel flushed and warm, and your eyes are a little teared-up from the effort.
“Stop,” he says. “I want to be inside you.”
You pull away from him with a pop, and he shifts his hand to the back of your neck to haul you up to him. To lay a searing kiss on your swollen lips, to slide his tongue into your mouth and taste the rosemary and peaches from dinner on you. He guides you onto his lap, and you grind against him as he mouths at your neck, your jawline. As he unlatches your bra and eases it off of you, then puts his lips to the diamond hard tips of your tits. Suckles against you, bites you lightly until you are groaning.
He’s so close. He calms when he maneuvers you onto your back on the couch. He leans over your prone body, lays a haphazard scatter of kisses on all the parts of you he didn’t get to see or touch before. Your shoulder, the space between your tits. Your hipbone, the softness of your belly right above the waistband of your panties. He slides his fingers under them and eases them off of you, flings them across the room. He groans at the sight of you, slick and swollen and ready for him, but when he bends his head for a taste, you catch his chin in your hand and stop him.
“Another time,” you say. There’s a growling edge to your voice. Something half-feral that makes a sharp stab of lust rocket through him. “Fuck me, Magalon.”
Seconds to stand up and remove his boxers. A few seconds more to find his wallet in his jeans, to pull out the foil-wrapped condom. Another few to tear it open and roll it onto himself, but you are huffing and telling him to hurry the fuck up already.
“So impatient.” He joins you on the couch, climbs on top of you. Kisses you again while you wriggle underneath him to try and get everything lined up. The tip of him bumps against your clit, draws a moan from you, but then slides away. You growl at him: half-feral to almost completely feral, and Benny caught a glimpse of this when you hooked up before, but this is so much better.
“We have time,” he tries to tell you, but you give another growl.
“Romance me later,” you demand. “Fuck me now.”
Why argue? He wants you just as badly.
He leans back and grasps himself, settles between your thighs. Lines himself and notches himself at your entrance, then pushes into you. Even through the latex of the condom, you feel so good: gripping him, molten. Pulsing against him like a heartbeat.
“Goddamned, Benny,” you whisper when he’s fully seated in you, his hips flush against yours. You thread your fingers through his hair and pull his mouth to yours, and if you’re feral, you still manage to kiss him in a way that feels intimate. Romantic. The way you sigh into his mouth, the almost-lazy way your press your tongue against his.
He starts slow. Slow, deep thrusts into you, and he can feel how you meet his thrusts, raising your hips for more. He’s lying on top of you, covering your feverish body with his own as he fucks you into the couch cushions. His orgasm, only postponed from your mouth on him, appears on the horizon.
“You close?” he pants out, and you whine that you need more, so he obliges.
He raises himself up a little, and he hooks an arm under your knee. He hauls your leg that had been hanging off the edge of the couch up, up until it’s thrown over his shoulder, and he slips deeper inside you with the new angle. He’s buried in you as deep as he can go, and he’s hitting the end of you, and you throw your head back at the sensation.
Maybe you’re messy and damaged, but yeah—you’re still perfect. To Benny Magalon, you are perfect. Like this: your face warm and free of any artifice, the way your perfect lips pant as he fucks you even harder. The unfocused way your eyes gaze up at him. The feel of your fingers clawing at his back, and he always thought that was a cliché of movies, but he can feel the thin lines of pain you’re marking him with and he fucking loves it.
You come hard and sudden. No warning signs that he could see, but he’s lost in his own sensations. You arch underneath him, so hard you nearly buck him off of you, but you hold tight to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him as you wail out his name and tremble underneath him. The way your pussy pulses around him, rippling along the length of him, it makes him come a half-beat after you.
Another cliché, he thought—coming at the same time. But the two of you do.
-----
It can go one of two ways afterwards. The entire situation is delicate, and it walks a razor edge of going one way or the other.
In your bed, after you fuck again (this time slower, you allow Benny to romance you), he spoons you. You roll away from him but he follows and wraps himself around you. He can feel the walls going back up, and he’ll do anything to stop them.
“Please don’t shut me out,” he says softly, and he can feel the deep breath you take.
“I always ruin relationships. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until it’s over.”
“Not always. Almost always, but not always.”
You roll over onto your back, and you turn your head to look at him in the dimly lit room. “You don’t know, Benny—”
“I do know,” he insists. “What about us? Aren’t we friends? Can’t we build something from that? My ex-wife, my girlfriends…all those relationships fell apart because it didn’t start as a friendship.”
You arch an eyebrow at him. “So?”
“So you already know all my bullshit. I know yours. Isn’t that a good place to start?”
He can see he’s getting his point across. The two little furrows between your brow that usually mean you’re unhappy….they smooth out. The corner of your mouth twitches as you hold back a smile.
“You think you know everything about me, Magalon?”
He kisses your forehead. “I think I do.”
“Won’t you get bored then? Nothing new to learn about me? No surprises left?”
“Nah.” He settles back against the bed, and he raises his arm to beckon you to lie against him. After a beat, you do, and your head fits perfectly in the space between his neck and his shoulder.
“We can do the shit that couples do when they need to spice things up, if we get bored,” he continues. “We can meet up at a bar and pretend we don’t know each other. Get you another one-night stand with Benny Magalon’s alias, you know?”
You laugh at him. You turn and press a sweet kiss to the side of his neck, near his tattoo, and you nestle against him. He pulls you in a little tighter, holds you more securely.
“But you know I always sabotage it,” you warn. He rubs your arm, kisses the top of your head to comfort you.
“Almost always,” he repeats.
“Okay, almost always. Fine.” You grumble, but he can hear the smile in your voice.
“Almost always, but not this time.”
You grumble again, something about him being entirely too sure of the whole enterprise, but he just kisses your head again. Of course he’s sure. He’s sure of himself now, and he’s sure of you, and he’s absolutely certain that with enough time and patience, he’ll be able to fulfill that promise he made to himself: he will convince you to marry him.
It will take another year, to be exact. Not nearly as much time as he thought it would, and it takes almost no convincing at all. Turns out you have at least a few surprises left for him after all.
~~~Tag List~~~
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#benny magalon#benny borracho magalon#benny magalon x reader#Benny Borracho Magalon Imagine#benny magalon x reader#Borracho Magalon x Reader#borracho magalon x reader#borracho magalon#den of thieves
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Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).
Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.
I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!
TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:
1. Chewing gum!
- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.
2. Buying colour coded stationary!
- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!
3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.
- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.
4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.
- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.
5. Icky Medication.
- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!
6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.
- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.
- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.
- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.
- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.
7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!
- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).
-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!
- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).
- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.
8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.
- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.
9. Repetitive music.
- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.
10. Limit your screen space.
- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).
11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.
- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.
My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.
#ADHD#Study tips#actually adhd#autistic#adhd#neurodivergent#adhd study tips#advice#adhdstudytips#studying with adhd#adhd advice#ask adhd#adhd mood#adhd life#adhd vibe#disability support#uni support#school advice
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Now I have to ask about your school's sex ed? Was it worse than the meth talk because of the content or or because of the lack of?
okay so
When I was in school, sex education was abstinence only (and it probably still is, because Indiana) and I can't even really call it education because it was just fearmongering mixed with complete misinformation, and the only good thing I can say about it is at least they didn't do purity bullshit like comparing girls who have sex before marriage to chewed gum or something like that, instead they just tried to convince the boys and girls equally that premarital sex would kill us
So sex ed consisted of one assembly called "After Sex, What's Next?" that our parents had to sign a permission slip for us to attend. (Note: Sex ed requires a permission slip. A recovered addict showing us photos that would be at home on rotten.com? No permission needed for that one) According to the forms they gave our parents, this assembly would be discussing STDs, abusive relationships, teen pregnancy, etc., and all of that save for the STD part was a damnable lie.
Once we were all herded into the auditorium, this woman from the STD clinic basically did her best to scar us for life. She opened with a story of a guy who'd come to the STD clinic with genital warts covering his entire dick, like an inch thick, who had seen her assembly in high school and allegedly told her "We all thought you were so full of shit, I wish to God I'd listened to you" which in retrospect I don't believe actually happened.
What then followed was a slideshow of things like dying AIDS patients, premature babies, and the worst possible photos they could find of various STDs, which I never actually saw, because I partook in my tradition of just looking at the floor instead. Actually, that day was the start of the tradition, because they inflicted this on us well before the meth thing. There were cries of disgust every time a new picture was shown. I'm pretty sure someone had to be excused to the nurse's office to throw up.
So interspersed with the slideshow, the woman would tell us various horror stories like describing an etopic pregnancy as graphically as possible and describing it like a sure death sentence, or talking about the time a girl came into the clinic with herpes all over and gave a urine sample that was mostly pus. Absent any of this, of course, was any sort of explanation about how we could avoid getting STDs if we were sexually active, because that would be encouraging us, I guess. And married people can never contract STDs, right?
There were also some flat out lies, like that if you have anal sex then you become incontinent and also you can get herpes from toilet seats. I was afraid of public toilets for years after this.
And then the assembly ended and we went to lunch where, deliberately, they were serving chili dogs.
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Day 730. 2 years exactly since you succumbed to your inner pig. You only know this because I told you - time has lost all meaning for you, and you only know when it's feeding time, and even that's tough to discern given how frequent they are, not to mention all the snackings, stuffings, and punishments.
You glorp and gurgle as you drain another sack of your weight gain fluid, an awful mix of cream, butterfat, and lard, that to a normal person would be horrid to drink, but you guzzle it down so easily. Your montrously blubbery body demands an insane amount of calories now, addicted to them, addicted to porking up larger and larger. The tube falls from your mouth as you struggle to catch your breath, rolling down your lard-swollen chins on your mammoth chest, your fattened tits twice the size of your head.
"Did I say you were done, tubby?" I remark as I discard the empty feed bag, rubbing your bloated stomach, sending waves of blubber wobbling, rolls clapping together, and forcing a monstrous belch from you. You reflexively gulp to keep the contents of your stomach down, as it bubbles and groans in agony, but you know the punishment for wasting food is far worse. I trace some of the deep stretchmarks that line your massive, bloated midsection. "If you're no longer hungry, we could go for a walk..." I threaten, your glazed-over eyes widening at the suggestion. Walking was torture these days, your frame incapable of supporting the well-over 350lbs youve packed on. It took a bariatric sling to haul your larded up body out of bed, and required you to use a walker, all while your joints scream and your heart feels ready to explode.
"N-no I'm still hungry" you lie, whimpering as you struggle to lift your flab-filled arms to grab the tube nestled between your swollen breasts. Even your voice sounds fatter, with your lard-encased voicebox, your speech slurred due to your heavy jowels and chins working against your jaw muscles. Your arms are so heavy, and your tits so big, you find it difficult to reach over them, but finally manage, weakly placing the tube back into your mouth. "Good piggy" I claim, as I hook up the next bag, this one containing a darker mix than usual.
You dread the thick slurry as you watch it ooze down the tube into your mouth, choking a bit a it hits your tongue, dribbles of it squeaking oit the corners of your mouth and running down your chins. It's so dense and rich, far more so than usual. "It's a special batch, for the anniversery" I tell you, seeing your flabby face contort as you struggle to gulp it down. "Now eat up, fats, while I read you some fanmail..."
Your feedee lifestyle is now partially bankrolled by all manner of deviants online, buying up pictures and videos of you showcasing - not always willingly - your gluttonous ways and the struggles of being a ginormous blimp. I start reading off a few choice comments: "Her ass looks like 200lbs of chewed bubble gum." "This fat fuck is going to eat herself to death." "How the hell does someone get so disgustingly obese??" "This poor girl needs help!" "Keep eating, porky - you could use a few more chins." As I read them, you cab't help but feel tears stinging your eyes, while at the same time getting incredibly turned on, instinctively gulping faster.
Your vision gets blurrier with each swallow, as you ingest countless calories, your head swooning. You can't help but to rub the sides of your bulbous belly, your guts churning to process the fluid - you could swear you could feel your flab growing in your own hands. You feel your skin stretching, your limbs growing heavier, your heart pounding, as your senses are overwhelmed. Before you succumb to your stupor, the last thing you hear before drifting off is the ominous creaking of the bed beneath you, and the hypnotic heavy gulping of an insatiable hog.
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Ahhhhhggghhhh omg I cant wait for the next part 🥵🥵🥵 I know this has to end but I dont want it to
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me making my newest oc 😌
i know no one cares but under the cut is some stuff about him :)
First name?
lani
Surname?
sparks
Middle names?
jonathan
Nicknames?
family calls him sparky
Date of birth?
january 1st, 1966
Height?
5’11”
Weight?
120–he’s too skinny
Build?
slim but strong
Hair colour?
blonde
Hair style?
long and messy
Eye colour?
blue
Distinguishing facial features?
slightly crooked teeth with a gap between the two front ones
Which facial feature is most prominent?
mouth
Which bodily feature is most prominent?
dick probably his hair tbh
Other distinguishing features?
voice!!
Skin?
pale, freckles on his shoulders
Hands?
ratty nail polish, worn and rough from farm work
Make up?
eyeliner!!
Scars?
he has one going across his left hand from a farming accident when he was a kid
Birthmarks?
none
Tattoos?
none, yet
Physical handicaps?
none
Type of clothes?
even back home in virginia, he always dressed like a dirt-poor, punk version of michael monroe
How do they wear their clothes?
he doesn’t wash them much and they’re pretty worn and ratty
What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc)
he only owns two pairs of shoes: old black converse high tops and his beloved cowboy boots, which he adorned with bandanas and chains
Race / Ethnicity?
white
Mannerisms?
chews gum a lot, says “uhh” a lot, chainsmokes, drinks a lot
What words or phrases do they overuse?
dude and you guys. he’s been using them since he was a teenager, trying to kick his southern accent
Do they have a catchphrase?
no
Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?
he’s so optimistic it hurts
Are they introverted or extroverted?
a little bit of both
Do they ever put on airs?
no, what you see is what you get
What bad habits do they have?
smoking, nail biting, laughing at inappropriate times
What makes them laugh out loud?
he’s a fifth grader at heart and still laughs at 69 and penis jokes
How do they display affection?
he’s really into physical affection, and loves to lean on his friends
Mental handicaps?
he has generalized anxiety and adhd
How competitive are they?
not too competitive
Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider?
snap judgements
How do they react to praise?
well. he loves being in the spotlight
How do they react to criticism?
not so well. he gets defensive
What is their greatest fear?
failure and being forgotten
What are their biggest secrets?
no one in his new home knows where he’s from, or any of his backstory
What is their philosophy of life?
live fast, die young, and faith in yourself will get you anything.
When was the last time they cried?
today, probably.
What haunts them?
the past
What are their political views?
he doesn’t care, as long as gas is cheap
What will they stand up for?
his beliefs and rock n’ roll
Who do they quote?
the bands he loves
Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?
both
What is their sinful little habit?
he’s kind of a sex addict, though he’d never admit it
What sense do they most rely on?
hearing
How do they treat people better than them?
well, he has a big authority problem, and he mouths off to people in power
How do they treat people worse than them?
he’s worse off than most anyways
What quality do they most value in a friend?
loyalty
What do they consider an overrated virtue?
celibacy
If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?
he hates his teeth but he can’t afford to get them fixed
What is their obsession?
music.
What are their pet peeves?
posers and people who shove their own virtues and morals down his throat
Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of?
big. his mom, dad, six siblings, and grandparents all live together on a small farm in the appalachia
What is their perception of family?
it feels like a prison to him
Do they have siblings? Older or younger?
he’s the second oldest
Describe their best friend.
he doesn’t have one, or any friends back home
Do they have any pets?
hunting dogs and all of the farm animals
Who are their natural allies?
his fellow rockers
Who are their surprising allies?
the nice old woman who lives down the road from him, and offers to help him get out of virginia
What was your character like as a baby? As a child?
as a kid, he was always a little bit of a wild child, and struggled in school
Did they grow up rich or poor?
poor
Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?
some of both
What is the most offensive thing they ever said?
he’s said a lot
What is their greatest achievement?
he doesn’t feel like he has one yet
What was their first kiss like?
good as hell, with an older girl. he was 14. she gave him a hand job too, and thus began his obsession with sex
What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?
left his family and took the money with him
What are their ambitions?
he aches for fame, for recognition, and for being known. he wants to see his name in lights, to have thousands of people screaming his name.
What advice would they give their younger self?
don’t back down
What smells remind them of their childhood?
bread baking, apple pie, hay, bonfire smoke
What was their childhood ambition?
from the first time he heard led zeppelin at age seven, he knew what he wanted to be
What is their best childhood memory?
lighting hay bales on fire when he was 16, just for the hell of it
What is their worst childhood memory?
his mother telling him he’d never amount to anything
Did they have an imaginary childhood friend?
yes, because he had no real friends
When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment?
when the local preacher told him he couldn’t sing in the church choir anymore because he had a “terrible voice”
What past act are they most ashamed of?
taking his family’s only backup money
What past act are they most proud of?
having the courage to leave
Has anyone ever saved their life?
not yet
Strongest childhood memory?
grandma telling him that he would fly one day—he still believes it
Do they believe in love at first sight?
no
Are they in a relationship?
no
How do they behave in a relationship?
horribly. he’s terrible at dating
When did you character last have sex?
today, twice already
What sort of sex do they have?
he likes it rough and passionate, quick and dirty
Has your character ever been in love?
no
Have they ever had their heart broken?
no
How do they respond to a threat?
he goes in swinging
Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?
fists
What is your character’s kryptonite?
sex
If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?
his songwriting notebook or his cowboy boots
How do they perceive strangers?
he trusts easily and likes to assume the best about people
What do they love to hate?
the pmrc
What are their phobias?
spiders and confinement
What is their choice of weapon?
switchblade
What living person do they most despise?
any authority figure
Have they ever been bullied or teased?
yes, a lot
Where do they go when they’re angry?
anywhere away from people
Who are their enemies and why?
he doesn’t really have any
What is their current job?
working at a farmer’s market
What do they think about their current job?
he hates it
What are some of their past jobs?
this is his first, and he’s had it for three years
What are their hobbies?
music and sex
Educational background?
high school dropout
Intelligence level?
he’s got street smarts, and common sense
Do they have any specialist training?
no
Do they have a natural talent for something?
music
Do they play a sport? Are they any good?
no
What is their socioeconomic status?
lower class
What is their favourite animal?
he loves dogs
Which animal to they dislike the most?
spiders
What place would they most like to visit?
hollywood. he wants to live there more than anything
What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?
the neon lights of LA on his neighbor’s tv screen
What is their favourite song?
he loves so many, but right now he really likes danger by mötley crüe, which just came out
Music, art, reading preferred?
music
What is their favourite colour?
black
Favourite food?
anything
What is their favourite day of the week?
friday and saturday
What is in their fridge:
not much.
What is on their bedside table?
alarm clock radio, pack of cigarattes, pack of gum, pen, sunglasses
What is in their car?
he doesn’t have a car
What is in their bin?
crumpled up sheets of paper, used condoms and wrappers, empty cigarette cartons
What is in their purse or wallet?
ID, a condom, a couple bucks cash
What is in their pockets?
pack of cigarettes, lighter, condom, gum wrappers
What is their most treasured possession?
his cowboy boots and his songwriting notebook
Who or what is your character’s guardian angel?
he doesn’t believe in that stuff
Do they believe in the afterlife?
no
What are their religious views?
aetheist
What do they think heaven is?
california
What do they think hell is?
where he is now
Are they superstitious?
no
How would they like to die?
young and fast, something interesting. he believes in the “better to burn out than fade away” philosophy
What is their zodiac sign?
capricorn
What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?
compromising their individuality
What is their view of ‘freedom’?
living the life he feels he was born to live
When did they last lie?
not recently
What’s their view of lying?
he tries to be honest as much as he can
When did they last make a promise?
not recently
Did they keep or break their last promise?
he doesn’t like to make promises because he knows he can’t keep them
What are their eating habits?
he doesn’t eat that much, and he has bad table manners
Do they have any allergies?
no
Describe their home.
his parents’ home houses him, his six siblings, and his grandparents. eleven people in a small home, and he lives in the attic, alone.
Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?
clutter
What do they do first thing on a weekday morning?
sleep til 2
What do they do on a Sunday afternoon?
try to get away from the family
What do they do on a Friday night?
drink until he can’t think straight
What is the soft drink of choice?
coca cola
What is their alcoholic drink of choice?
anything, he doesn’t care
Miscellaneous
What is their character archetype?
he’s definitely more of a byronic hero type
Who is their hero?
robert plant
What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween?
alice cooper
If they could save one person, who would it be?
himself
If they could call one person for help, who would it be?
no one
What is their favourite proverb?
it’s not a proverb, but he lives by the ac/dc line “take a chance while you still got the choice”
What is their greatest extravagance?
everything. he wears makeup and paints his nails, teases his hair and yells at god.
What is their greatest regret?
he doesn’t have one
What is their perception of redemption?
anyone can be redeemed
What would they do if they won the lottery?
spend it on women and wine, probably
Do they believe in happy endings?
always
What is their idea of perfect happiness?
having friends, a band, a small apartment in west hollywood to call home, enough money to get by, and people who understand him
What would they ask a fortune teller?
“am i destined to fall?”
If your character could travel through time, where would they go?
to the wild west
What sport do they excel at?
sex
What sport do they suck at?
all the rest
#i love him#he's my favorite oc ever#i wish i could draw :((#anyways#ocs#also yes i am projecting a lot LEAVE ME ALONE#this is my character i am allowed to project
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Bubblegum Kisses
TV SHOW ACCUSED
COUPLE JAKE X READER
RATING FLIRTY + MILD SMUT
Strawberry and blueberry twist bubblegum.
The taste I was addicted too.
I never much really liked bubblegum when I was younger I found it far to sickly sweet for me, until one day when I was studying on the school yard brick wall.
I suddenly couldn't get enough of the stuff.
Since I was a little kid I kinda had a crush on a girl named y/n, she wasn't really a popular girl exactly. I guess he was within her crowd she was kinda what I would call an... alternative kinda girl.
I spend a lot of time with her growing up which honestly likely didn't much help my crush on her.
And one thing I always known about her was,
Bubblegum.
She used to get some change every week for walking her family dog and every penny of it would go into the tall red bubblegum ball machine outside the post office.
When we where little I used to have to get on my hands and knees and she stood on my back in order to reach to put in her pennies. She would fill it her little bag with bubblegum balls and we would run off to the park every Saturday afternoon.
The smell of those cheap gumballs makes me think of her a little as he bag always had the sticky sweet scent and it too was always on her as she was almost always chewing on bubblegum.
The kids at school used to call her violet after the girl in Willy Wonka.
But she never minded about everyone else much she just hung around with me.
The more I grew to like her the more I grew to associate bubblegum with her. The smell of it the colours they always made me think of her, Whenever I saw red and blue side by side I'd think of y/n and her bubblegum balls.
By the time we got to secondary school I was infatuated with her, and at the same time the shops starting selling
New!! Strawberry and blueberry bubblegum in strips.
The little shop on the corner used to sell a pack of twenty for 99p, and of course this was y/n's favorite flavor, and it was about two weeks out from her birthday. So I went around our estate and cut grass, walked dogs, babysat anything I could to earn some money and that when her birthday came I could give her a whole box filled the the bubblegum strips and of course the balls too. I remember how happy she was, she gave me a huge cuddle I don't think I had ever seen her so happy.
My crush on her only got worse and my addiction to that bubblegum smell became worse, it got to a point I bought a pack and kept it in a little Tupperware box just got to smell when I missed her. And I May have used it sometimes when I really really 'missed her', that smell made me think about her which sometimes wasn't great because if I walked past it in the shop I could smell it and it would almost give me a Bonner. Which wasn't helped by an announcement when we where just heading into our options year that Christmas -
New!! Strawberry and blueberry bubblegum shower gel, shampoo and body stray.
Company's hate teenage boys with hormones don't they. Because of course she came to school everyday fucking day smelling like a bubblegum factory!!
From her mouth, her hair, her body, everywhere was the smell of sugar, artificial strawberry and strong blueberry bubblegum.
And I was addicted to it.
Because whenever I smelt it, I thought of y/n.
I even bought a tin of the body spray to spray on my pillow so I could cuddle it and to help when I'm... All alone.
I had been trying so often to try and te her how I felt about her but I always got to shy, until her birthday rolled around again and just as it did almost like clockwork I saw something in a little discount store
New!! Strawberry and blueberry bubblegum lipgloss/balm
So of course what did she get for her birthday everything and anything strawberry and blueberry bubblegum from everyone even her family.
The lipgloss became what she wore every single day it tinting her lips a light purple with a tiny bit of glitter to it, it only made me want to kiss her even more.
My crush only continued to get worse until one day I was studying on the yard sitting on the brick wall with y/n beside me reading the maze runner book even if I couldn't much focus on anything but her, she of course was chewing her bubblegum often blowing little bubbles, the sweet sugar scent in her soft beautiful hair, the overwhelming artificial strawberry smell on her skin, that light purple softly resting on her lips. She blew her last bubble before taking the old gum out her mouth wrapping it in the wrapper and throwing it in the bin beside us returning to her book, but she noticed I had been watching her do all that and she looked at me a little puzzled.
I looked at those sweet lips I had been wanting to kiss for so long, and I couldn't help it, I moved forward pressing my lips to her own her scent overwhelmed me the taste of that bubblegum gloss on her lips she kissed back moving her lips against mine I did it too our lips kissing over and over lightly clacking with each kiss till she pulled away leaving me in a dream like state
"Ooohh Jake, what was all that about?" She asks
"I just uhh... I uhhh... I really wanted to see what your lipgloss tasted like" I smiled and she laughed as the bell went so she kissed my cheek and went off to her class.
After that day I became even more addicted to that taste, I would chew the gum while I was jerking off just because it felt and tasted like I was making out with y/n, and eventually after alot of convincing and little dates, she became my girlfriend.
I stopped jerking off to much as I had her to kiss me now even if I admit I may have kept a couple packets and maybe a body wash so I could smell it in the shower and chew the gum like I was making out with her for you know... In shower... Reasons.
She sat on my bed with me the two of us rather seriously kissing that sweet sugar taste and smell all over her as usual my hands often exploring her a little but she always did it to me too, my hands often moving her butt of her boobs in our kisses till she pulled away
"Ooh Jake what's that poking me?" She asks
"Ohh uh sorry" I blushed but she smiled giving me a kiss
"It's okay, so did you wanna...do anything?" She smirked
"Can we uhh... Maybe make out?' I suggest
"Aww course can" she giggled going to kiss me but I stopped her
"Could you uhh Maybe do something for me?" I asked her
"Well alright" she smiled "what is it Jake?"
"Can uhh before we make out? Can you maybe have some bubblegum?"
"Uhhhhhh why?" She asked a little confused
"It's uhh well... Look y/n I've liked you since we where little kids, and something that always makes me think about you is that strawberry and blueberry bubblegum, and I like tasting it when I kiss you" I explained
"Well okay" she smiled "maybe once. Done with my gum, we could do something more then make out?" She asks
"Uhhh...okay" I blushed very excited
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