#sometimes we just have to be uncomfortable
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman and Female Reader
Finale
Word Count ~ 3.3k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ fluff and smut, pregnancy
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant
The true name of your doppelgänger is crooned into your ear.
A sound that is strangely soothing, syllables slipping like water in a brook, a gentle rush of water.
You attempt to replicate the sound and of course it doesn’t come out right. He’d warned you of this. The human tongue is incapable of replicating the foreign language.
“Why do you have such an easy time learning ours and we can’t learn yours?”
He’s gone back to the human version of his being, the tired eyes of the milkman studying your frustrated features, his fingers stroking and smoothing away the lines creasing your brow and the corners of your mouth.
“The newness of it, maybe. Yours is a relatively young race.”
You prop your head up on your hand, dragging fingernails over your lover’s chest. “How old are you?”
“Me, or my species?”
“Both.”
He turns onto his back, nestling down in the pillows. “In Earth years….we have existed for tens of thousands of years. I’m a tenth of that.”
“You are not over a thousand years old,” you murmur in disbelief.
His eyes meet yours and he smiles softly. “You’re right, I’m not. I’m teasing. Sorry, love. More like one hundredth of that.”
“A century.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Wow.” It’s hard to reconcile the idea. Despite whatever face he wears, you’ve always thought of him as near enough your own age. “An older man, huh?”
“Something like that.” He lifts the hand you have resting on his bare chest and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Is that okay?”
“It’s a little late to ask, but yes, it’s definitely okay.” You bend to kiss his mouth. “I really wanted to learn your name.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He worries his bottom lip, considering. “What if I tried to describe what it meant instead? And we discovered a language equivalent that was similar.”
“Alright,” you agree.
The milkman’s copy pauses, considering. “In Greek mythology, there was a name for something otherworldly that was borrowed from Latin, then later used to describe a kind of afterlife. Fields of paradise. An eternal resting place of bliss for the worthy. Elysium. But that notion of otherworldly is the best way to describe it. The original term is Elysian.”
“Elysian,” you try it out. It sounds nothing like what the alien had said earlier, of course, but the idea is there. “I like it. It’s pretty sounding.”
“Well, that’s it, then.”
“Elysian,” you repeat, bending to kiss his mouth again. He smiles against your lips. “You like hearing it, huh?”
“It’s pleasant, I’ll admit.”
A sudden thought occurs to you. “How do you know about Greek mythology?” You have never seen anything that indicated the milkman read classical literature.
The doppel clears his throat, looking a little nervous. “There was a professor.”
“Oh.” Of course Francis wasn’t the first human he’d ever cloned. “Did you…take him over, too?”
“No. Just replicated. Retired. Library at home.” He squirms a little, looking uncomfortable.
“Did you…” You don’t really want to give voice to the query. You’re not even sure precisely which it is. Kill? Consume?
“Sweetheart, please don’t ask me that.”
You swallow thickly. You forget, sometimes. Caught up as you are in how he is now. Denying what he used to be.
“How long ago was that?”
“I don’t remember.”
“But you remember what you read in a book.”
The doppel sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “It was awhile ago.”
“Not who you were when you…Francis…”
“No.”
“How many? How many people have you…”
He sits up, and you straighten beside him. “I don’t want to talk about this. It’s not who I am anymore. What I am. You know that.”
“I know. I just…” Your voice trails off again.
“Listen to me, sweet girl. All that matters now to me is you. Keeping you safe. Making you happy. I love you.” He plants a kiss on your bare shoulder.
“I love you, too.”
“We should go to sleep. Work in the morning. And that damned box to deal with,” he mutters, leaning to switch the bedside lamp off.
You feel him lying down again and you snuggle next to him, your head pillowed against his chest, his arm curled around you. You’re wide awake, now. Questions spiral in your mind. “Elysian?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever miss your planet?”
“Maybe a little. I did. Not so much now.” His arm around you tightens.
“What was it like?”
“Very green. More of a tropical climate, I suppose you would say.”
“And you left because…”
“Food shortage.”
A brisk answer. You’re not going to ask what precisely the doppels consumed in their native location. “Have you been to any other planets?”
“One. Small. We didn’t stay long.”
Another ominous answer. Not enough to eat, perhaps? Did anyone ever properly repel the invaders? Or were they an unstoppable force, like a plague of locusts sweeping the land, consuming everything in their path, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake?
“What’s it like traveling in space?”
“So many questions tonight.” His lips press against you hair. “It’s indescribable, really. Beautiful. Vast. Daunting. Someday, I would like to show you.”
There’s a lull in the conversation as you both mull over that prospect. You had never thought much about space travel. Had no real knowledge of astronomy. But the idea of exploring the stars with this creature by your side made you curious. What would it be like, to be so far away from the only home you've ever known? You feel the gentle rise and fall as the doppelgänger’s lungs expand and deflate and hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. You try to match his rhythm. A game you haven’t played since childhood. Facing off with a friend in the schoolyard. While cuddling with a parent at home. That is what he feels like to you. Home. How fiercely you want to protect him. You squeeze his shoulder.
“What happens when you run out of members of your squadron to send here for sacrifice?” You ask quietly. A concern you’ve harbored for a long time finally given voice.
“Let’s not worry about that tonight, okay? I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“I don’t want you to be harmed, either.”
“I know, my love. Now try to sleep.”
You shut your eyes, thinking there’s no way you’ll be falling asleep anytime soon, only to find yourself proven wrong as you soon descend into slumber.
***
You awaken to darkness.
It’s early, dawn still a ways off. You reach out drowsily to find the doppelgänger sitting upright beside you in bed.
“Elysian?”
“There’s a doppel,” he says softly. “But something about it is off. I don’t…”
You’re instantly alert again, jerking upright, throwing the sheet off of you. “Where is it? Outside? On this floor?”
Had you let one in by mistake? Or was this some new intrusion?
“I’m not sure,” he replies distractedly. The weight on the mattress shifts as he rises, his face barely visible when he draws back the curtain to peer at the street below. “Not outside,” he declares. “Closer than that.”
Your pulse quickens. Inside, then.
“Wait there,” he advises. “I’ll go have a look around.”
You immediately disobey, sliding out of bed. You can’t just sit still waiting for whatever was going to happen. You pad barefoot out of the room, finding yourself in more darkness. Your fingers trail on the wall as you move forward, your feet leaving carpet and finding linoleum.
“Elysian?” You hiss, squinting, trying to detect him in the shadows.
“I told you to stay in the other room,” his voice growls from somewhere to your right. The living room. “It was gone, but now I’m sensing it again”
You bump into the couch, finally deciding it’s more of a hazard trying to find your way in the dark, invader be damned, reaching blindly until you crash into the lamp, nearly knocking it over before your fingers fumble for the switch.
Francis’ doppel paces the small apartment, even unlocking and cracking open the front door before shaking his head and shutting it again. His gaze meets yours.
“So where is it?”
He steps towards you slowly. His eyes widen. “Is it possible…”
“What?”
“Sweetheart.” He stands before you, laying a palm on your abdomen.
“I’m…”
“Carrying my baby. Our baby.” His other hand cups your cheek tenderly. “We did it, my love.”
He gathers you against him, his face burrowed into your neck. Wet. He’s crying. You’re crying, too. Weeping. Relief. Joy. A new kind of fear. Maternal instinct kicking in already.
You had to protect your unborn hybrid child.
***
There’s no sleep to be found for either of you now.
You’re cuddled on the couch, wrapped in Francis’ bathrobe, the doppelgänger’s arm curled around you protectively, waiting for the new day to begin.
“I’m afraid to make an appointment with the doctor. I should go, but…what if they find out?”
“Best not then, love. Just to be safe. You should talk to your mother. Whatever you need to be doing, what to expect…”
You nod. “We need to get married as soon as possible.”
“You’re already my wife in every way that matters, but yes, we will. Very soon.” He pauses. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I know your reasoning behind it, but I think you should stop working for the DDD. Especially since we’re moving into your house together. There’s no reason for either of us to be anywhere near here anymore. Let’s go, sweetheart. Leave this behind. Start over. Begin our life together properly.”
“Let me give a notice. Finish this week, and the next. It’s just how we do things. Allow them time to find a replacement. We still have the box to deal with,” you remind him.
“Then you’ll leave the DDD?”
“Yes, I’ll leave.”
He sighs heavily. “Thank you.”
“What time do you think it is?”
“Maybe three? I left my watch in the other room. Can’t see the clock from here,” he murmurs against your cheek. “We still have time.”
“I was thinking we should go downstairs. Tamper with the device right now before the sun even rises.” You lean back to look at your lover. “They’ll keep working on it. There’s no guarantee they won’t succeed again. Or find another means.”
“I know. But that won’t be your fight, love. That’s for someone else to worry about.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Yes,” he admits. “More than I ever have been. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. Our baby is worth it.”
***
The director of the DDD requests an exit interview with you.
Really not a request, more of a requirement. You’re not entirely surprised. You didn’t think you’d escape quite that easily.
It’s been a little over a week since you and Elysian sabotaged the anti doppelgänger frequency box. Lying about the results on the survey after the allotted trial period. A temporary solution to a larger problem, but at least your doppel was safe for now.
And your baby. Your half human, half doppelgänger child nestled in your belly.
You try not to rest your hand on it as you sit before the stern faced man’s desk. Of course there is nothing visible yet, your stomach still flat, but you’d already grown accustomed to touching there. You force your hands to meet and fold together in your lap, your head bowed slightly, the very picture of meekness and subservience that seemed so favorable for women of the time.
“You’ve submitted your two weeks notice.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the reason for that is?”
“I’m getting married. Ready to settle down, start a family.”
He grunts. You can’t tell if it’s approving or not. “People don’t often leave the DDD. Not voluntarily,” he adds.
“Yes, sir. I’m aware. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I feel it’s the right one.”
“Not going to be easy to replace you. Not if you gave two months notice, let alone two weeks,” he admits grudgingly. “The DDD thanks you for your service. I’m certain you’ll still uphold the tenets of the cause, even if you’re no longer formally employed by us.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The middle aged man begins to slide a document across the desk towards you after signing it and stamping it with the official seal, only to halt at the last moment, staring hard at you. Your eyes lift to meet his.
“I understand there’s a new vacancy in that residence now. Another rare occurrence.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“The milkman that was missing that day of your…indiscretion. Francis Moss, wasn’t it?”
“Mosses,” you correct, then wince internally.
“Yes. Him.”
You remain silent, your hand still stretched out, reaching for the paper. Your heart thuds in your chest. Please, just let me go. Please, please…
You suddenly have the document clutched tightly in your hand. He was letting you go after all. Freedom. You force yourself to walk from the room at a dignified pace, the paper carried in front of you like a shield. When you exit the office building your tense, rigid posture relaxes and you heave a sigh of relief. Another challenge overcome on the road to forever with your doppel.
***
You love coming home to your fiancé.
Seeing his delivery truck in the driveway. Soon you’ll be the one welcoming him inside every afternoon. But for now, he’s the first one to your inherited farmhouse, waiting for you on the porch he’d raced up to kiss you all those months ago, gifting you a taste of new rain and the smell of fresh petrichor.
“How did it go?” His tone is casual but you know better, seeing his white knuckled grip on the railing.
“I’m free.” You wave the letter in the air and he snatches it from your hand, hurriedly scanning the words.
“You really are,” he murmurs, looking bewildered and relieved.
“That doesn’t mean they won’t still be watching. But for now, for now…”
He smiles at you, one arm wrapping around your waist. “Should we celebrate?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully, his lips brushing your ear. “Come inside with me, love.”
***
There are little details of the house that bear traces of Francis Mosses, now. The crocheted blanket rests over your couch. The portable record player has a permanent home in your bedroom. The dresser hosts a collection of your doppel’s things: a belt, cologne, some spare change, a wooden handled hairbrush. There’s a shirt that needs mending hung on the post at the end of the bed.
“I’ll fix this later.”
“Mmm hmm.” His eyes never stray from your face. You sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels in front of you, sliding each shoe off, caressing your calves. You sink a hand into his hair, bending to plant a kiss on his forehead, inhaling his scent. Notes of bergamot, the clean citrus in his cologne. Your shampoo now in his hair. Strawberry. Everything a combination of you two. Already joined in so many ways.
His hand cups one knee, his palm warm and comforting over the joint. He slides it inside, stroking under your skirt, creeping between your thighs. He nudges at the clothing that is your work attire, shoving impatiently to gain better access. You accommodate him, pushing yourself back until you’re lying horizontally across the mattress, your skirt now rucked up around your hips, the doppel’s fingers dragging your panties out of the way.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart.”
He’s on his hands and knees above you. You work on the fly of his pants. Your haste makes you clumsy. The metal teeth of the zipper catch on the fabric of his pants. He shakes his head, laughing softly, the sound turning to a growl when he struggles in your wake. It finally gives and he lowers himself down, guiding his cock into your entrance.
You gasp and his mouth crushes yours, swallowing the sound.
His hips press yours and you’re thinking of the nearby field with its fading summer flowers. That’s where you want to be wed. Here beneath the open sky, in this sanctuary of yours. You whisper it beside his cheek and he draws back, looking at your features. “Is that what you want, love?”
“Yes.” Your rock your pelvis against him, your legs wrapping around his body. “Elysium fields with my Elysian…”
“I love you,” he breathes. He thrusts and it hits something tender inside, the aching place deep in the hollow. Your fingers tangle together. Hot inside you. Something molten in your core. You’re melting. Clinging to him. The world shatters, comes back together in little pieces. Tired eyes gazing into your own. Soft smile.
***
You’re still tangled together.
Bodies intertwined. A comforter thrown over you both to ward off the chill of the oncoming autumn night. You’re discussing possible baby names again. You like the idea of something celestial. Named for the sun or the moon or one of the countless stars above. A constellation, an outline of a portrait when they arrange themselves just so. A planet, a galaxy. Infinite possibilities.
“It reminds me of a song,” Elysian murmurs. You’ve been taking turns tickling each other. You were losing horribly but determined to get revenge, making another attack along his unprotected ribs. He remains stoic and unresponsive despite your best efforts.
“What song?”
“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully. “In Other Words, I believe it’s called. How does it go?”
Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On-a Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, darling, kiss me
Your heart lurches. It’s the melody. The one Francis used to hum. The replicant notices your teasing fingers grow still and he stops singing abruptly.
“What’s wrong?”
“That was the song. The one Francis used to hum all the time.”
“Oh, love. I didn’t realize…”
“Of course not. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Your eyes feel a little full, tears brimming.
“I know you still love him. I wouldn’t ask you not to. That wouldn’t be fair.” He drags a thumb across each cheek, close to your lashes, collecting the salted liquid. “He’s always going to be present in some regard. But I can’t resent him. I have to love him a little bit, too. Because he brought me to you.”
“What if I’d called the DDD that day? What if…” More tears escape. You’re suddenly overwhelmed. If you’d contacted the disposal team and destroyed him, this person that has become your world, created a new life with you…This song was what had finally swayed you. Another gift from Francis.
“Sweetheart. You didn’t. You let me into the building. Into your heart. There’s nothing there to be sorry about, from your perspective anyway. If I had to choose again, I would not see you hurt, I would not want to take him from you, but love, how could I ever give you up? I can’t. I could never. You’re carrying our future. You’re my forever.”
His lips graze yours. Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, drawing him more firmly against your mouth. “Sing the rest for me. I want to know all the words.”
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing forever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
“I love you.”
You’re joined again. Hips and hands and mouths.
Maybe one day in the future you will be brave enough to travel with the alien into space. Explore the wonders of the heavens with your children by your side.
For now, you are content in this bliss on Earth.
#francis mosses#milkman#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman x reader#milkman x you#the milkman#doppelganger#that’s not my neighbor#tnmn francis mosses#tnmn milkman#tnmn fanfic#thats not my neighbour milkman#tnmn
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Luffy says he isn't interested in sex/love from a very early age and both Ace and Sabo are extremely relieved because that way they don't have to have the uncomfortable talk™ and they get rid of romantic dramas. But then Luffy comes back one random day from school, holding onto a guy like a koala, and saying "This is Zoro! We just met but he's my boyfriend now" and sometimes they just have to accept their aroaspec brother will find ways to make their life harder than it should be.
#idk this is demi luffy to me#it's not like they HAVE to give luffy the talk bc he already knows lmao they just have like#the need to act as older brothers and parents bc they don't have like. y'know. parents#and if they can just. NOT do that that'd be great but they sort of have to#idk i just find it so funny#one piece#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#zolu#portgas d. ace#revolutionary sabo#asl brothers
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a privilege I deprive myself of
Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.
or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Talks of body image.
Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!
This isn’t ideal.
Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.
You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.
Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.
This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.
“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”
“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.
“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”
“I don’t.”
“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”
Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.
So this really isn’t ideal.
“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.
Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.
The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.
Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.
“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.
For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else.
In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.
“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…
“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”
“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.
“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.
Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.
“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.
“Well, fuck you very much.”
She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.
Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.
You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.
He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.
She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.
The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.
“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.
To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.
The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.
“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”
“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”
She nodded.
“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”
You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”
She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.
“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”
Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.
There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.
“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”
So, hm, this isn’t ideal.
You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.
Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.
So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.
As a friend, of course. Truly.
The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.
After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.
On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.
You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.
“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.
“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.
And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.
All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.
“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.
So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.
“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.
Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.
******
You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.
“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”
“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.
“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.
“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”
It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”
Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.
“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”
“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”
What?
“What?”
“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”
“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”
Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.
“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”
“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”
“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”
The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.
Again, not Postmates.
“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.
“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”
“Uh… No. Why…”
“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”
She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.
Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.
Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.
It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.
Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.
“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.
“Listen, I know how it looked-“
“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”
Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years.
“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.
“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”
“Melissa, the flowers…”
“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”
“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.
“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”
She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?
She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.
“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”
In love you with you. In love you with you.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.
The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.
You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.
“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”
You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.
She flinches, but allows it.
“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”
“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”
She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.
“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.
“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.
She raises a brow.
“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”
“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course.” You say without a thought.
“As a friend?” She challenges.
No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?
You let your hands travel down slightly.
“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”
She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.
“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”
Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.
Forse sarebbe più facile.
“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
“I know.” You say.
You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.
She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.
Now, the something more is clearer.
“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”
“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.
“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.
If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.
“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”
“Poor Gary,” you whisper.
“Yeah… Poor Gary.”
So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.
“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”
For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.
Heaven.
Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.
#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti x reader#abbott elementary fic#angst with a dab of humor (if you squint)#can anyone tell I am really into sarcasm as a form of comedy? ANYWAYS#themillsdaughter writes#‘hey shouldn’t you be trying to finish that wyp you started 3 years ago?’#yes yes i should but that’s not how the muse works apparently
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Asking out the Bachelors (SDV)
x disabled!reader
You presented him with a bouquet. But before he could speak, you interupt. "Now before you say anything!" He looks at you confused. "I want you to know before you make any big decisions that I am disabled. I get around fine enough, I mean, I can handle my farm and all. But some days it's rough. And I won't be able to. I might not have the energy for anything. I really- Really -like you, but I don't want to be hurt down the line because you can't deal with this." You put your heart on the line and awaited his response.
All Bachelor's below the cut
Harvey
• Gives you a big ol' hug
• Probably cries a little because he is so happy that you asked him out
• Hopes you don't notice
• You definitely do, but don't say anything because-how cute is he!
• The two of you just stay there for a second, because it's not like you can really move when you are trapped in a hug
• "Dear, having a disability is no big thing. So you need a little extra support sometimes. I am your man!"
• Literally will go to the ends of the Earth to help you when things are acting up
• When you go into more detail about it, he knows a lot already! (Duh he is a doctor)
• But he will do a lot more research about the specifics once you leave.
• He stays in that hug for a really long time before realizing that he never actually accepted your bouquet and becomes a bit of a flustered mess
• You think he is adorable
Sam
• As much as he likes to think he is sooooo cool, he is so happy that he just gives you a double thumbs up and a dopey grin
• He says, "Farmer you don't know how happy this makes me!"
• Invites you into his house to talk about things more, and plucks around his guitar while doing so.
• He doesn't know crap about disabilities, besides adhd and a few more common ones.
• But he is willing to learn!
• The two of you actually have a really long heartfelt conversation about it.
• Lots of hugs.
• Like he cannot get over the fact that you are dating now.
• Maybe a makeout session if the mood feels right?
Sebastian
• Kinda just stares at you for an uncomfortable amount of time
• You have no idea what he is thinking, and frankly neither does he.
• His brain is frying at the fact that you like him back.
• And then he is also panicking at the fact that you think he won't like you because of something you can't change!
• Grabs your hands once he snaps out of it, startles both of you
• "Yes!" He somewhat shouts, "yes! Yoba, I swear. I care for you and nothing about you will change that."
• Proceeds to just hold your hands and blush because OHMYGOSHMYCRUSHLIKESMEANDIJUSTTOLDTHEMILIKETHEMAND-
• Later when you talk about your disability more, he recognizes the name from late night internet browsing, and will do whatever he can for you when things get bad.
• Like Sam, there is a lot of communication about how he can help because he isn't well informed
Alex
• Literally picks you up???
• Idk he is weird (it's okay we still love him)
• Like holds you bridal style and gives you a big smooch on your cheek
• Will do his best to learn how to help!!!
• He doesn't care you have a disability
• Absolutely will take care of your farm and animals if need be
• When he sets you down he gives you an actual kiss
• The two of you talk about everything
• Shows up at your farm the next day after talking to Harvey
• He wanted to learn a bit more about helping people with disabilities, now having two important people in his life that have them! (You and George)
• Overall he'd be really good about it once he got going
Shane
If he was sober at the moment
• "We all have our problems, and yours is nothing."
• "I'm shocked you want to go out with me, but remember, this was your idea!"
• Aka, he tried to act all tough but when you look at his face, he is just a softy
• He has a slight blush on his face
• He is so happy you trusted him enough to tell him your personal business
• Won't be perfect by any means at helping when things get hard, but he tries
If he was drunk at the moment
• "I'm not dealing with that."
• And then he walks away.
• Regrets it so much when he sobers up but the damage was done
• If you felt that he deserved another chance it wouldn't be for a long time
• If you get together later, every time things flare up he just feels so guilty.
Elliott
(Apologies in advance for possibly being out of character. He is the one I know the least about-)
• Similar to Alex ngl (kinda?)
• He smiles at you, places his hand at the nape of your neck, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek
• Let's his head rest on your forehead for a few moments before accepting your bouquet
• Gives you a gentle kiss
• Will learn all of the things to know about your disability
• Makes sure you check in with Harvey about it whenever things get bad
• Will make you soup :) he knows it won't 'fix' anything, but he doesn't know when else to do when people aren't feeling good
• It's cute
• Will gives you cuddles after he accepts the bouquet, and makes sure to talk to you about what you need.
• He tells you, "nothing can change the way I feel about you. You are the light of my life." (Or some fancy poetry that idk how to write)
This is the first thing I've written that I've posted, so please lmk if I made a typo or something!!! And let me know if you want me to elaborate on any prompt. Or give me a prompt! I will be posting more, I just have to edit them.
(Thank you to my friend for proofreading if you see this)
Also I mostly write x reader, which I am down to make weirdly specific. Mostly fluff or hurt/comfort, but I am down for almost anything so if you have any fic you want written, lmk!!! I might not get to it for a while because, life, but we'll see! Hope you had fun reading, sorry for the long outro-
(Edited Alex's, thanks for pointing out George is disabled!)
#this is my first post#we need more disabled readers!!!#give me relatable fanfiction!#stardew valley x reader#stardew valley#sebastian#sebastian x reader#sdv harvey#stardew harvey#harvey x reader#stardew sam#sdv shane#stardew shane#sam x reader#sdv elliott#elliott x reader#stardew alex#alex x reader#x reader#sdv#sdv farmer#i dont know what to tag this
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I typed up a post on how Laios and Kabru's interaction is important context to Laios and Toshiro's conversation about how Toshiro has always been uncomfortable around Laios, and then I started tacking a disclaimer onto it, but I realized that they'd both probably do better as their own posts, so here we go:
Toshiro isn't being a terrible person and he acts the way he does because of how he was taught to interact with people; he has legitimate reasons to be uncomfortable around Laios, even if Laios is being genuine and does not mean harm. Sometimes people are incompatible with each other personality-wise, and sometimes people who mean well hurt others because of ignorance or ingrained prejudice.
It's probably also worth mentioning that Laios and Toshiro manage to have that conversation and thereafter are much better are working together. It's a very sad scene, both seeing how hurt Laios is and how uncomfortable Toshiro has been, with no way to speak out on it, but after the conversation, the blows end. They're civil to each other. They're kinder to each other now that they understand where they're both coming from.
Just... sometimes you're Laios, who's just trying to be friendly and genuine (in a world where people have been so cold to you for just being yourself, wishing that you could get back half the energy you put into other people), and it's going to hurt when you realize that people don't like you as well as you like them. Sometimes you're Toshiro, who's stressed and uncomfortable around the people who are supposed to be your friends (but still get your name wrong and ignore your boundaries and ask you hurtful questions), and you're going to have to weigh whether it's better to grin and bear it while it lasts or better to cause a scene.
They both probably could've been friends, or at least happier, if they'd had this conversation earlier. But that's not what they were taught to do.
#dungeon meshi spoilers#character analysis#laios touden#toshiro nakamoto#i guess. before you judge toshiro too harshly ask yourself#how many times is it worth it to assert your boundaries without being rude before you give up?
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A, C, and Z for Baizhu for the event?
We need to give him more love he's great. - 🪴 (Unless you already have someone who signs off with that, I have a few emojis I can pick)
"you have summoned BAIZHU for the event . . ."
A/N : we so need to give him more love !! and since there were two, i decided to combine ,, i hope u two like this .3.
✦ㅤㅤA = aftercare (what he’s like after sex, what he needs from his partner)
after everything, it's gonna be you to be left with the heavy lifting post-coitus. baizhu's already weak, frail—sex takes a lot out of him, the poor thing. lucky for you—lucky during sex, too, with the way you can so easily manhandle him—, he's practically light as a feather. it's easy, then, to nudge him up, carry him over to the bathroom, place him on the soft toilet seat. (sue me: baizhu definitely has a cover due to all the times he's sat on it while doing his hair, his make up . . and it comes in handy for these moments, though it is annoying to have to clean it of the slick and cum he smears on it in times like this.)
the tub, then, keeps the two of you warm n' comfy, lets you tug baizhu up in your lap to wash his hair. covering his eyes, letting cups of warm water drip down his face without getting in anywhere that'd leave him uncomfortable. getting a rag down between his thighs is always fun, and, half the time, you end up working him into a second orgasm, right there in the water . . you never want to overwhelm him, but sometimes, when the sex was slow, sweet, the mid-aftercare sex can be, too.
✦ㅤㅤC = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
baizhu is absolutely the messiest cummer; he's always wet as anything, and that doesn't let up in the slightest the nearer he gets to orgasm. in fact, it's to the opposite—he gets impossibly wetter, slicker. it all culminates in the ultimate show of his undoing: squirting. he's such a squirter—it's almost a shock ! such a frail guy who has such powerful orgasms. these are the types of orgasms that trap your fingers knuckle-deep in his cunt as he sprays all over your palm, or push your cock out from the force of it.
whenever your cock slips out during these however, make sure you slip it right back in. baizhu's greatest woe is that his orgasms tend to push you out—he wants nothing more than to cum around your cock, not bereft of it. (good thing it's easy, then, to keep him pressed down on your cock even as the pressure builds. you've learned a way to please him best: let your cock get pushed out, just for that moment, and rub it frantically against the head of his own cock. once he slows to a dribble, you can slide back in, press down on his lower belly . . .
it drives him crazy !!)
✦ㅤㅤD = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)
he's embarrassed, but he has the biggest thing for scents. god, the smell of you drives him crazy—from just your natural scent and cologne, down to the musk of your cock . . he loves it. while it's easiest to cockwarm you with that cute cunt of his, he adores warming you with his mouth. cis, trans—he loves mouthing at you, at the heady weight and taste on you on his tongue. best of all, though, is the way his mind is filled with nothing but the scent of you.
maybe it's part of that contract with the snake, but he's found himself very attuned to smells. it was helpful, at first, giving him the ability to sniff out the perfect herbs for his recipes . . . but it quickly became quite the conundrum once he fell in love with you. he's so, so embarrassed, but he can't suppress the urges to envelope himself in your scent. he dons your clothes quite often—his favorites are the ones that smell most like you, your cologne ,, gah. so what if he also bundles up the fabric to his nose while he desperately humps a pillow?
✦ㅤㅤL = location (favorite places to do the do)
another sweetheart, love-sick romantic—baizhu prefers to fuck in the comfort of his own bedroom. and, really, that's one of the only places you do fuck in; anywhere else is typically too uncomfortable for baizhu's weakened joints, but that doesn't mean it's always out of the question . . you just need to plan for a good day <3
on these good days, he adores being able to sit or lay across your lap as you're on the sofa. after a while, his knees and thighs ache in such a position, but—for those quiet hours—it's perfect. baizhu adores cockwarming in times like these ! be gentle, won't you? these locations are hard on him, and he deserves the best of the best. kiss his achey joints as you take him to nirvana, over and over, again and again and again.
✦ㅤㅤP = pace (does he prefer fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
baizhu's not quite sure if he'd like it fast, like it rough. after all, he was a virgin before he met you—he never quite cared enough to sleep around anyway. however, he's found that he's quite happy with the slow, sensual pace you set. neither of you even particularly desire to do it harder, rougher, honestly. baizhu can't imagine doing it any different.
it's the way you're so tender, so soft, with him that really gets him going. your fingers opening him up so gently, prepping him for your cock . . . baizhu doesn't even masturbate that fast, that rough. his cock is just so damn sensitive, anything other than that gentle pace you've set hurts. it's a bad ache, really.
good thing you've got it nailed down ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
✦ㅤㅤZ = zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards . . .)
out like a motherfuckin' light. once he's caught his breath after squirting all over you—your hands, your cock, your face, whatever—, baizhu's eyes are already slippin' closed. his body jerks into your touches, but his eyes never open; it's up to you to carry out your aftercare with him—that sleepy second orgasm, then, is all the sweeter<3 if he's dozing off of nothing but the first orgasm in the bed, he'll be knocked the fuck out. make sure not to let him fall under the bathtub.
further, he sleeps best post-coitus. he loves to nuzzle into your throat, his damp hair splaying across the pillow and your face, the arm you have supporting his head . . . he smells so, so good, all bath-warm and smelling like the soaps you washed him with. and don't worry about him kicking you or anything of the sorts: baizhu is a dead weight in his sleep, and nothing short of changsheng biting him will rouse him from it.
a bit shorter, but i'm working thru them !
29 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
#ㅤ✦【 EVENT 】#save me doctor save me . . heh#alphabet#sub genshin#genshin smut#sub baizhu#baizhu smut#i forgot to mention how his glasses fog up during it. dang
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i can't think of a creative title
👽 for finding later because look at him he's a little alien :D
so anyway i (15F) had this girlfriend (16F) a little bit ago. we honestly didn't do much together, even though we're both in high school. never went on a proper date and we never even kissed.
whenever i would try to set up a date or anything, she'd kinda be like "ok." and then never follow up and i wouldn't wanna do it because i have really bad self esteem issues and i didn't want her to stop liking me because i was being too clingy or anything.
we were texting like normal one day and she just sent me this text where she was like "i'm literally so selfish lmaooo i already knew i was gonna break up with you by the end of the school year but here i am still dating you and wanting to kiss you 🤪" and i just stopped texting her right there because. because what? she was literally planning to break up with me and she knew what day she was going to do it and everything? then what was the point of even getting together with me? because she knew i really liked her and still did that.
anyway, we agreed to talk during our free period/study hall at school the day after. i had totally freaked myself out and i was completely prepared to just go and apologize over and over again, even if she was in the wrong, but when i met her, she immediately started talking about how i put her on too much of a pedestal and how my self esteem was too low and how i have a tendency to say "im gonna fucking kill myself" (not in like a serious way or anything but it just became a thing i'd say sometimes, we both knew that i wasn't being serious about hurting myself but i see why that would make her uncomfortable and it's actually a habit i've been trying to stop) and these are actually all pretty valid concerns. i did have a little bit of a tendency to put her on a pedestal because of my previously mentioned terrible self esteem. so we broke up.
but then a little recently, a friend, who i'll call miku texts me and she's talking about how my ex, i'll call her uh... rin? anyway, rin texts miku and rin allegedly said that she thinks that she's more mature than all of our friend group ( we mainly have the same friend group, me and rin are still friends) and miku tells me that (also allegedly) miku wasn't really all that affected at all when we broke up or even when i randomly stopped texting her after that text. so. idk. was i the asshole? i feel bad about ghosting her, that was kinda toxic and abusive and definitely something i shouldn't have done, but it freaked me out.
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https://www.tumblr.com/drewsbuzzcut/749147223848337408/httpswwwtumblrcomdrewsbuzzcut749144799770263
Need a blurb
Warnings: mentions sex and drinking and I think that’s all
“Maty, baby, please don’t be upset,” you hummed as you’re pulling into the driveway of your parents’ house.
“What, babe? Your brothers and I are cool now,” he says, thinking you’re talking about his relationship with your siblings.
You give him a fake smile and shake your head to let him know it’s not about your brothers. You take in a deep breath of air, because you have no idea how he’s going to take this.
“No. Um… remember that guy my brothers told you about. My brother’s friend who I slept with a few times. Well, it never dawned on me but he’s a close family friend. And he’s inside because he’s literally invited to everything. I just wanted to give you a heads up,” you cringe as you speak, especially once you see your boyfriend’s displeased expression.
“You mean the guy who gave you your first orgasm? That’s just great,” he groans, throwing his head back against the headrest.
With a sigh, you quickly put your car in park and unbuckle your seatbelt. Without hesitation you toss your legs over Mat’s lap and straddle him in the passenger seat.
“He may have given me my first orgasm, but you’re the only guy to ever make me squirt and give me tons of orgasms in one night. Ryan was just a one and done type of guy. You, my sexy hotshot, rock my world every time you touch me,” you reassure him, gathering his hands and guiding them to cup your boobs. He gives them a hearty squeeze and you can feel your core tingle with excitement.
“Damn right I do,” Mat grins and pulls you into a kiss that has the power to make you orgasm on the spot.
“As much as I’d like for you to fuck me in your car, I really don’t want to be caught in my parents’ driveway,” you sigh and pat his chest before moving off of him.
-
“Hey, Y/n,” Ryan greets you and you can feel Mat tense up next to you.
“Ryan, hey. This is my boyfriend, Mat,” you introduce Mat to the man and watch with weary eyes as they shake hands.
“Nice to meet you man. Sorry about the playoffs this season,” Ryan hums. His eyes linger on your form, not that you even notice. Mat does, though.
“It’s all good. It just means I get to spend more time with my girl,” Mat muses, pulling you in front of him and wrapping his thick arms around your waist.
Ryan’s eyes travel down to where Mat’s hands rest on your abdomen, but they move fast so you don’t even notice. Mat does, though. Your boyfriend’s hands travel to your hips, squeezing your jean clad flesh and making you melt into him.
He captures your lips in a sweltering kiss and his tongue tangles with yours. His smile beaming against your mouth breaks up your lip lock.
“I love you,” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.
“I love you.”
Ryan clears his throat and it snaps you out of your daze. Sometimes you forget where you are when you’re with Mat.
“Sorry,” Mat smirks, his hands still wandering the curves of your body. His attention is solely on you and the way your ass presses into his groin. Every now and then, Mat’s eyes will flit up to see Ryan uncomfortably shift on the heels of his feet.
“We need to go greet everyone else,” you part ways with Ryan, dragging Mat along by his belt loops.
“Come find me if you get bored,” Ryan suggests, making Mat send a glare his way.
With you under his arm and your ears not even picking up on Ryan’s words, Mat places one more wet kiss on your mouth.
“Trust me, dude, she won’t get bored,” Mat gives him a cocky wink. He doesn’t like Ryan.
-
“He’s in love with you, or he at least has some feelings for you,” Mat whispers in your ear after he pulls you onto his lap.
“Who?” You ask, not quite sure who he’s talking about.
“Ryan,” his words cause you to frown.
You turn your body into his and bring your hands up to cup his cheeks.
“What are you talking about?” You ask against his lips.
“Ryan likes you a lot. He is always staring at you longingly. He’s also been trying to find different ways to talk to you,” Mat explains, pecking your lips and pulling away to look at you.
“He’s even looking at you right now. His eyes are literally glued to your ass. I knew you shouldn’t have worn these jeans, they look too good on you,” Mat huffs, his lips forming the cutest pout you’ve ever seen.
“Good thing you’ll be the one to pull them off of me,” you whisper in his ear, purposely pushing your boobs closer to his face.
You grab one of his hands and place it on your ass, for everyone to see or just for those who were watching. You fix him with a devious smirk and he not so subtly cops a feel.
“So Ryan, do you have a girlfriend?” Mat asks after moments of him ignoring the guy’s existence.
Ryan finishes off his beer before his eyes slide over to you perched on Mat’s lap. You watch him with curious eyes as you notice his intense stare.
“No. There was the one that got away, though. She’s something special, but other than that I haven’t found the right girl yet,” he answers and he can’t help but focus on you as he speaks.
You look away and focus on your man and his darkened eyes. Although his body is typically rock solid, you can still tell when he grows tense. Sensing his jealousy, you press your lips to his jaw and caress at his muscles. You smile against his skin as you feel him fall back into relaxation.
“Aww man that sucks. The wait is worth it, though. When you find the one, they change the whole trajectory of your life,” Mat simpers, his jaw clenched while his eyes are locked on yours. He knew it. Ryan didn’t need to explicitly say your name for Mat to know he was talking about you.
“Maybe true love is overrated,” Ryan blurts out. His stare is hard, almost bruising.
“Nah, true love isn’t overrated. I’m sure you’ll find the right person someday, and you’ll see that true love is special and can’t be messed with,” Mat cocks an eyebrow at the man, letting him know that he can look all he wants but he can’t have you.
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Pairing: Cole Turner x Female Reader, Curtis Everett x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]
Summary: You always try to be your best at your job.
Word Count: 919
Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist
Warnings: Dark, Dubious Consent (Sex Toys, mild Overstimulation), Manhandling, Clueless Reader, Cages, Pet Names (pup, lamb, etc.). Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Time to meet the contractor/handyman and his business partner, the toy maker. It’s a side story for A.W.A. that I just wanted to peek into. Don’t know if there’ll be any more parts to this. But Enjoy!
I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.
I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.
This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!
Things you now knew were stupid: answering a sketchy ad on the side of the road for a job in product testing. Apparently not your brightest idea. As Jeanne would say, you’re a dumb bitch. At least you were cute.
It hadn’t seemed that bad. Cole and Curtis were pleasant, though they made you well aware of your deficient resume. You didn’t have marketable skills. It was something people said a lot.
But that didn’t stop them from hiring you. They wanted you to start right away. And the benefits? They said they’d be comprehensive.
What they didn’t mention was what exactly that meant. You were just happy they’d chosen you. With job after job firing you for ‘incompetence’, they’d seen your potential. Had said so, in exactly those words. You’d been on cloud nine, smiling wide.
Before they opened the door to your office and had you test the first product.
“Just turn your head toward the camera,” Cole coaxes, his sweet words dripping over you like honey.
Your feverish body slumps over. The machine between your legs continuing its torturous thrusts and vibrations.
A warm hand falls to your lower back, the other tilting your head up to meet stormy blue eyes.
“She’s had enough,” Curtis says. With a flick of a switch, the machine beneath you turns off.
“Come on, man,” Cole whines, “just a little longer. She’s so fucking adorable when she breaks like this.”
“We don’t want to break her.”
Bundled into strong arms, you’re pulled off the toy and laid out on a nearby cushion. Your limbs melt into the plush fabric, twitching from overstimulation. Not an ounce of strength to move of your own volition. That’s all been fucked out of you.
“It’s half the fun,” Cole mutters under his breath, starting a routine of cleaning off the toy. Though he complains, he won’t go against his partner outright. They work too well together for that.
A quiet moment passes, Cole cleaning up and Curtis rummaging through some drawers. He produces a blanket a few moments later and carefully wraps you in it. You hum and lean close to his gentle touch.
“By the way, Ari’s got me making a tail for his girl,” Cole says, joining Curtis in putting you away. He tilts your chin up with a finger. “How do you feel about that?”
You blink slowly and let incomprehensible mumbles fall past your lips. Mostly in the affirmative, not quite understanding how they’ll make you a tail. Isn’t that something animals are born with? Or sometimes like your cousin Courtney? Your brow furrows as you try to think.
You shiver and grip at the quilt over your shoulders, tucking it closer to your face. For one night you wish they’d let you sleep here. Not that you’d complain about your normal accommodations. They could always fire you, and then where would you be?
“Don’t go falling asleep on us now or you’ll forget your form,” Cole reminds. He tucks a pen and paper into your unsteady grip and presses a kiss to your forehead.
You blink to clear your eyes and look at the short form. Five questions and a comment box.
“Do you need help?” Curtis asks, a hand on the cushion by your head, close enough to touch.
Despite the urge to stretch into his touch and accept his generosity, you shake your head. It’s your job, you’ll do it yourself. Dragging your body from the cushion, you sit up and place the paper on your leg. Scrawl the product description on the top line. All five questions stare up at you, a scale of 1 to 5 beneath.
Is the product enticing to potential customers?
Is the product innovative?
Does the product seem high quality?
Is the product different from other products?
Does the product fulfill our customer’s needs and wants?
Though sluggish, your brain processes each question and makes a thoughtful rating for Cole’s new machine. The comment box proves more difficult. Words harder to scrawl while your hand lacks its usual strength and dexterity. But you jot down a few notes—about the vibration and the fit, you think?
A yawn cracks your jaw and you stand on wobbly legs. Holding onto different bits of furniture about the room, you hobble to place the paper in its usual basket. They’ll look at it at the end of the month and determine what to do with it.
Legs like jelly, you steady yourself a moment too long. Your bosses preparing your next task. You glance over and sigh. Still trying to perfect that thing. They’ve been working on it since you started working for them.
“Come on, pup,” Curtis beckons, voice gruff, holding the door open. “Time for some shuteye.”
You nod and bend your knees, ducking into the small metal cage. They finally got the cushion on the bottom thick enough that you don’t feel the bars digging into your side as you lay down. And they added some personal touches—a few pillows, your favorite blankets, a stuffed animal—to ensure the space still allows comfort to fit a full-grown human.
Another yawn breaks free of your lips. Your head falls to the pillow and you let your eyes flutter shut.
Fingers caress your cheek through the bars. You peek open your eyes to see Cole, a soft look of satisfaction on his face.
“Time for a little nap, little lamb,” he whispers, “then there’s a few more things we need to test.”
#curtis everett x reader#cole turner x reader#dark#dark fic#dub con#tw dub con#attic wives anonymous#18+#minors dni
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//Imagine// a Dragonborn in The Hobbit
With my poor memory of Tolkien lore, my love for D&D, and just fantasy in general, I've been thinking about a Dragonborn reader going on the adventure to the Lonely Mountain with the dwarven company + 1 Burglar, and sometimes a Wizard.
Please be chill about semantics, I'm so terribly sleep-deprived.
I like to imagine Reader as a Dragonborn can shift and phase through how much of a dragon they look like. Their more human form makes them look odd, something is still strange about them, but most don’t know they’re hiding something unless they are receptive to magical concealment.
Reader is picked up and tagged along with the company shortly before they reach the elven woods, so the dwarves are wary of them because of what has happened to their bloodline involving dragons. Thorin is the least trusting, accusing them and being nitpicky about how they are with the party.
Thranduil is also not pleased with a dragon walking among the dwarves when they get captured in the Mirkwood forest, because of his own history. He can see through their lie to conceal themselves very quickly.
The elves put them on the spot when Thorin and Thranduil are bickering and Thorin is also intrigued by the interrogation.
Their response is more so, “Would you look at yourselves, see how well you get along because you both hate dragons?”
When questioned if they will turn on the dwarves, and the elves then after, because of the temptation of gold in the lonely mountain they reassure that gold is not their fascination, and they have no interest in keeping it.
Everyone gets into it about dragon hordes, and yes they’re dragon-like but not wholly a dragon, and yes they collect things but a massive hoard is too overkill they prefer something more personal.
This forces them to show everyone a sachet hanging from their belt pouch containing smooth and bright-colored stones, sea shells, and things you’d find on the ground. The Dragonborn is very uncomfortable doing this and gets quiet and grumbly, eyes calculating where everyone is around their “hoard”. (While traveling on this adventure, an acorn Bilbo gives them is added to the sachet, to remember him by)
This is only step one of proving to the others that Dragonborns are not entirely dragons, everyone makes their own choices and has their path in life so we should just not assume someone’s entire character based on their birth, right? Hopefully, the Dragonborn can get through to everyone so they'll at least calm down enough to lessen the tension. Or else this will indeed be a long, long journey.
(Bonus points if Reader sings the Misty Mountain song, as an offering to show that they’ll stand by the dwarves)
#imagines/prompts master tag#the hobbit#the hobbit imagines#the hobbit x reader#dragon reader#dragonborn reader#fanfiction prompt#fanfic prompt#imagines#the hobbit imagine#the hobbit thorin#thorin x reader#thorin oakenshield#thorin x oc#bilbo baggins#thranduil#the elvenking#thranduil x reader#thranduil x oc#dwarves#hobbits#gandalf#the lonely mountain
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do you have any advice for opening commissions? i feel like you have them very professionally set up, and i have pretty bad social anxiety, so it might be helpful to hear tips for communicating with customers and such, or setting up a fair tos!
hi so, maybe i do have some advice!!! <33 thank you so so much for the kindness & seeing me as professional lol i’ve been doing comms for 2-3 years and i must say.. still getting the hang of a lot of things. you go through a lot of trial + error trying to figure out what works best for you, so remember theres no truly right way to go about comms! they should all fit the needs, pace, and benefit of you and your work ethic!
what i did personally is start off at some lower prices just to test the waters and get the ball rolling. i priced rendered characters at i think, $24 per character? possibly lower, i cant quite remember. and then i gradually went up as i started to progress in my art style more + had more people coming in.
with customers, i have a lot of anxiety as well! im autistic, so i never like making a customer feel like i dont truly care abt the commission by accidentally sounding too flat or anything. i tend to RLLY overthink it lol so we make sure we are extra talkative + kind about their comm! giving them compliments on the character, showing genuine excitement so they know theyre in good hands! (we love engaging esp when the customer seems VERY excited or enthusiastic abt the commission!)
a lot of irl turmoil tends to happen in our life which can make a comm delayed sometimes. could be severe mental health problems, just being busy w/ shit in general. its important to just keep your customers up to date, especially if its going to take a realllyyy long time or the customer likes frequent updates.
i used to be able to get shit done in like a night. but, with an actual line up/queue of comm work we progressively started taking longer and longer esp as we transitioned from a teenager starting out and into a busy adult with persistent mental health issues. (plus our art becomes more complex as time goes on, so that has to be taken into account) tbhs, depending on your availability and how much effort goes into your work, and as the demand grows, you need to charge accordingly and just be honest with your clientele.
as for TOS do what makes you comfortable! make your limits known and put your foot down when a request or any topic makes you uncomfortable. dont let your customers get inappropriate with you or try to make you feel bad if they dont wanna pay for what they ask for, etc. i also recommend requesting payment after sketch/half and half when starting out just so you can get some experience under your belt + assure future clients that youre professional n wont scam them! (if you plan on switching to payment upfront in the future)
just remember that u are not a machine, you are a human being making art for someone else. putting love n effort into your craft, time and effort. take your time getting the hang of comm stuff, things dont have to be perfect in your setup at first.
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Hi, old follower here from before you had 100 followers. I've got a semi serious question for you.
When I first followed you, I got the impression that you were a RP blog, in the case where you would RP with your "brother" (bettertwin9000), so I followed the rules as such. But later on it seems that this blog is your persona? In terms of everything said to this blog is a personal question to you? It's a weird situation where people asking those intrusive questions make sense for a RP blog, but in a normal blog situation it makes it intrusive.
Tldr, I think many are confused if this is an RP blog or you having Leo as your persona, so can you confirm what this blog actually is?
OMG HI LONG TIME FOLLOWER!!
And, for the sake of things making a little bit of sense, as much as sense as we can manage, keep in mind that we have OSDD, we're a system-
PUTTING IT UNDER CUT CAUSE IT'S LONG 😅
At the start of the blog <- in which we were advertising it as a roleplay blog, it was being run by our host and partially by me though I had no clue what I was doing at the time and bettertwin9000 was being run by our partner <- (which btw, made for some strange asks)
We continued advertising it as a roleplay even when we began suspecting and having full breakdowns over the idea of being a system due to some little things and some big things and lots of research and therapy and blah blah BUT we kept going back on it cause tbh DID is a hard thing to accept and we didn't want it <- still don't
SO now I was trying to run the blog more all the while trying to keep us grounded, IGNORING the possibility of DID and thinking, nah, this is just a really bad cause of delusions and we NEED to get reality checked NOW.
But I ALREADY KNEW i'm not REALLY Leo from rottmnt, but I am him, I was formed from that guy, created? Idk. He made me in his own image type reference audio. WOW IM NOT EXPLAINING ANYTHING 😭😭 did I mention we have a tendency to overexplain <- but specifically for me in the case of explaining things that are hard to explain, ANYWHIZZLE.
We kept going back and forth, confirming and denying the conclusion "we have osdd" cause that's terrifying and while this was happening I was still trying to force us to post and interact and involve ourself in arcs for the sake of distraction from EVERYTHING happening irl and the blog kind of made it worse but in a light hearted way cause suddenly the asks became really gross, and I felt really gross.
Sure, maybe someone who was roleplaying Leonardo would have no trouble answering asks about dead relatives or near death experiences or villains that have physically harmed you and your 'siblings' or about my crippling inability to speak about feelings and whatever else people diagnosed me with on here but I was having trouble answering it, I was getting uncomfortable and I was feeling genuinely overwhelmed because everything that definitely would be great material for a roleplay account was making me just feel, bad. <- which wasn't great considering at the time, feeling bad was not something i could have been affording to do
SO at some point, I started putting boundaries, didn't explain why, just continued under the guise of hey, roleplay guy here, the intruvsive invasive asks about my family and my mental health and my anatomy is making me want to die so please stop andbonly ask fun stuff like idk, if i put salt in donnie's coffee sometimes and everyone was like, yes leonardo in unison.
Then I slowly started getting more adamant on pushing the narrative that I am LITERALLY Leo from the show cause pushing that seemed to really help with the questions, and then the roleplay blog became more like. A personal blog for some dude who happened to be a ninja turtle alter and it'd unfortunately gotten so out of hand that explaining this now kind of made us even more exhausted cause oh man, we might get fake claimed huh <- we had worse things to deal with, internet drama didn't need to be added to this.
Anyway, if you read through all that junk, i'm sorry 😭, but i think it helps explain why the impression of the blog is so confusing cause it was being run by two ppl, a host and an alter who were constantly trying NOT to be those things until pretty recently when we started accepting the fact that we have Osdd
SO TIMELINE.
The blog starts off as an rp blog by our host and I unbeknownst to us both
The blog is fun and we start gaining traction
We also start gaining more mental health problems and have a full breakdown multiple times on many different social medias
We push through to cope
We talk to the other blog runners who are systems <- (Mikey, Raph and at the time when their account was apart of this, April) and they kindly answer and guide us through some things
We start adding boundaries for my sake
We talk to other systems on other social media and they help us with more stuff
We talk to our therapist
We do a ton of research on top of old research we'd apparently already done before <- suddenly we have a long document with so much information
We tell no one about the discovery when we start accepting the possibility
More funny stuff ensue and personal life things happen <- #ONLYTHEREALONESKNOW!
The only announcement I ever make that i'm an alter are one off comments in tags or answers that I never address again until I make an intro post that says I'm an alter in a system
The blog is what now?
The blog is still a roleplay account. Sometimes, canceled arcs that we would have done would have been considered roleplay <- a canceled christmas arc. But usually, this is just a blog. Like, this is just a blog I use to entertain people and to get some of my thoughts out like a singlet would. It's both i guess, it's whatever I want it to be and whatever you guys consider it to be.
The blog is just, my blog, I don't know how else to explain it 😅😅
Also, Bettertwin9000 was pretty much going through the same thing at the time and fun fact, he is actually my "brother" cause he's a Donnie alter <- (yay!)
Shoutout to the host who has their own blogs that they never really post on! couldn't have done it without you! <- and the many kind individuals who gave us their research material and links and answered our questions and stuck w/ us through the most confusing part of OUR LIFE
Srry again if this didn't answer your question like at all by the way, i THINK it at least explained some things but you know 😭 SORRY IDK
#do i wanna use fandom tags#maybe#can other systems validate us btw cause i'll be honest I still think we are faking this#if anyone had similar experiences it'd be cool to read it#did osdd#osdd 1b#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rise leo#unpause rise of the tmnt#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt donnie#rise donnie#disaster twins#leo rottmnt
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Zero Day Family HCS
Some thoughts I have about how the two would interact with each others families and whatnot..
•In the movie, it seems like Cals family is always doing something & are very family oriented! With how large that one party was and how we see Cals parents interact with Cal a lot more positively than how Andres parents interact with Andre… SO this makes me believe that when Andre does accompany Cal to those big family events, he feels slightly overwhelmed and out of place.
Since Andres extended family is more than likely all back in Germany, it feels so alien for him to see a whole family around like this. Grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, you name it.. he has no idea it feels that’s like. It’s literally always has been just Andre and his parents the majority of his life.
That being said though, I think Cals close and extended family welcome Andre with open arms. They’ll chat with him and pull him either which way at a party to go see something or someone :,)
(Speaking of, wouldn’t it be funny if one of Cals cousins had a little crush on Andre.. and they tell Cal something like, “Yeah your friend over there is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” And Cal just… becomes a total dickhead and is like “Let me introduce you to him :D he’s single!” And drags them along to meet Andre despite their protests. He himself knows that Andre will more than likely not be interested at all but Cal loves pushing Andres buttons and making him uncomfortable every now and then.)
So Cal will walk off after he introduces the two and says some bs like “hey you aren’t seeing anyone right Andre? I want you to meet my cousin.” Andre is dying on the inside because he has no idea what to say to her and it’s just so uncomfortable for them both. He definitely finds Cal after and hits him in the back of his head)
•Cals siblings are obsessed with Andre. They always run to the door when he comes over and show him things they made or new toys they got and unless Cal puts up a fight or Andre is just really not in the mood, they’ll try to pull Andre outside so they can play things like football with him.
Initially, Andre didn’t think he’d like being around Cals siblings because for all he knew, all kids were just annoying and loud but once they started going on about how they like Andre more than their own brother sometimes, he’s making sure he’s the coolest guy they know. He likes the feeling of being someone others look up to and the little ego boost that comes with it :,)
•Again with Cals siblings, I think even they can tell how totally joined at the hip Cal and Andre are.. which leads to some teasing and “Uncle Andre” being said 💀 Andre won’t even take it to heart like he would if anyone his age was saying that kinda stuff to him since their just kids and are genuinely just playing around. He’ll just playfully shove them away or put a hand over their face to make them shut up.
•Andre isn’t particularly close to Cals parents but they like him well enough. Andre doesn’t really know how to deal with parental figures that well because his own parents are kinda just yknow ‘there’ for the most part. He doesn’t particularly feel very close to his own parents besides maybe his mom a bit.
————————————————————————
•Andres mom loves Cal a lot! I feel like Andre never had any close friends growing up so she’s so happy Cal hangs out with him. Especially because he seems so nice and a good influence (💀).
I like to imagine that one day, Cal went to Andres house because he needed to vent and just get out of his own house for a bit but when he showed up, Andre wasn’t there. Like maybe he’s working later then usual or some school thing came up. Usually, Cal would just go up to Andres room anyways to wait for him but Andres mom insisted on making him something.
Cals sitting there at the dinner table dissociating and she notices somethings off so she asks if he’s okay and.. he just starts bawling. He doesn’t even mean to but yknow how just hearing someone ask if your okay can make u cry? Yeah. So she sits down with him and tries her best to calm him down and understand what’s going on.
Hes’s eventually able to calm himself down with a mix of her help and him just being embarrassed he broke down in front of her. Andre comes in soon after and is very confused why Cal looks like he just got done crying with his mom next to him. And is even more confused when his mom tells Andre to keep a eye on him and maybe take him out somewhere.
•Andres dad and Cal barely interact besides Andres dad patting his shoulder and asking about school, girls, what he’s been up to and etc. Cal can tell that Andres dad doesn’t like him that much since Cal doesn’t really act all tough and masculine but it’s nothing crazy. Just kinda a thing where they’ll occasionally chat and nod to each other but that’s about it.
•Andres mom loves to share embarrassing things about Andre so much. Like telling stories about how cute Andre was and how he’d follow her around all the time when he was younger, how’d he pick her flowers, how he still believed in Santa a bit past the appropriate age to still believe in him, and etc. she also loves showing Cal Andres baby pictures and videos too. Andre will straight up leave or put his head in his hands but Cal doesn’t give a shit. He’s SO giddy about seeing this old side of Andre. It takes everything in Andre not to hit Cal when he asks “Where’d that sweet, kind boy go?”
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blobfish.
#doodles#bad art#lousy drawings#doodle#blobfish#sometimes we just have to be uncomfortable#healing#recovery#sit with the suck
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Saw a post about working class butches in physical labour jobs and wanted to make my own, so: I love you butches who do childcare or early education. I love you butch nurses. I love you butch house cleaners and janitorial staff. I love you service industry butches. I love you butches who do sex work. I love you working class butches who do “feminine” jobs you are cool as hell
#butch#lgbtqia#lesbian#its me im butches doing stereotypically feminine work#when I was nannying full time I kind of thought of it as I was doing Nanny Gender#like especially bc I wore mostly dresses then for practicality reasons#which gave me The Dysphorias but yeah. my way of navigating that was to get a little fluid with it.#also even tho they don’t get perceived as such: all of these jobs are as physically demanding as many ‘physical’ jobs#like girly at least when I worked in a warehouse/delivery bay I got to sit down#look I could probably think of a better term than ‘physical labour’ but like. you know what I mean.#anyway. sometimes you have those I am uncomfortable when we are not about me moments#and then you remember that you can just go talk about your experience
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i wish i could take the time to parse through my taylor swift is/isn't a gay icon thoughts on here but i fear people on this website don't know how to behave
#like she isn't a gay icon. but she is a lesbian icon? but like in different ways than gay icons have historically been gay icons#basically what i'm trying to say is that her status as a lesbian icon has literally nothing to do with her interactions with the lesbian#community. like i don't feel particularly revered or nurtured by her in the way someone like gaga has taken the time to#actually sit with and deliberately cater to gay culture for example#like it's different.#and almost entirely fandom-led#whether taylor is actually queer is also irrelevant to this#am i making any sense?#like okay i think you could argue she did a little bit of it in 2019 but we all know how that felt/came across#she's better at being a gay icon when she's explicitly not including the queer community in her work or acknowledging them in any way#because it's literally not of her own volition#and i'm honestly not convinced it's an aspect of her art or fanbase she considers#sometimes it feels like it actively makes her uncomfortable#and yet she really has become entrenched in modern day lesbian pop culture iconography in these last few years#anyway this isn't me Saying Anything. i'm just thinking about it#vi is typing...
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