#without any sort of outside recs

[fiapple]

every time i see jeph loeb selina i end up wanting to tear my hair out...

#okay some context: a) i do not like jeph loeb for reasons outside of his selina characterization. for one he's racist af. look up #jeph loeb sinophobia. like he's horrid. #b) that being said aside from the selina characterization i do not mind tlh or dv all that much. i'd never rec them without mentioning the #above because oh my god fuck jeph loeb & it's a very pirate only situation. but it's sort of akin to how batman y1 is treated irt to frank #miller if you get what i mean. #c) however i am a newell!selina bitch first & foremost & the way that he just. utterly ignores everything newell set up in v.1 says a lot #to me. #& w those stories loeb very clearly just. does not view selina as her own character. she is only present in the story through her #connections to the men within it. the only motives we are presented with for her character are ones pertaining to those men. she lacks #any real independent drive. moreover she lacks any of the bite or complex emotionality of her prior characterization in her post-crisis #incarnation. the nuanced relationship with right & wrong as social constructs her own morality and what justice looked like to her #along with what she felt obligated to do irt to ennacting it is utterly absent. #it's just boring. it's boring & unoriginal & misogynistic. there's nothing unique to selina about it. #(mind you i have not read when in rome. not sure i want to but i might for posterity.) #it's trite. #anti jeph loeb #dc #selina kyle #gothamverse

[beskarandblasters]

Bluffing Season

Enemies to Lovers!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Author’s note: Ya know like “cuffing season” lmao!! Thank you to @pascalispretty, @fhatbhabie, and @hyzer34 for beta reading! 🤍

Summary: Frankie Morales is your next door neighbor of the worst kind. To put it simply, you two can’t stand each other. But when his girlfriend breaks up with him right before the holidays he asks you to be his fake date for Christmas, not wanting to go home to his family single yet again. You reluctantly say yes and as you spend time with him you realize he’s not as terrible as you once thought.

Word count: 14.6k (what the fuck lol)

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, reader is a baker, two years post Triple Frontier, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fake dating, jealousy, made up lore for Frankie/his family tree, reader lowkey got mommy issues (just a shitty family in general), drinking, mentions of drugs, food/eating, Frankie describing his trauma, some Spanish used, oral sex (F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names (cariño), sort of ambiguous time skips, Frankie is either a Libra or a Scorpio!!, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Late October

Beep Beep Beep

Ugh. Another shit start to your day with shit sleep as per usual. Running your own bakery means a lot of early mornings. Normally you don’t mind waking up early since you love what you do. You bought a new house on Magnolia Drive eight months ago which made your commute to the bakery much shorter. However… Your realtor neglected to tell you that it came with the worst neighbor on the face of the Earth. His name is Frankie and you can’t stand him. When you first moved in, he seemed normal, an ex-military, single guy living on his own. The deception didn’t last long, though. Because after about two weeks of living next to him, the shitstorm commenced. And now you wished you picked literally any other house in this city. His friends are at his house all the time, one of them always blocking your driveway with their pickup truck. They stay until at least four in the morning, blasting music when Frankie knows you have to work early the next day. He’s probably the worst neighbor in the entire state of Florida. 

You’re getting in your car to start your morning commute for work when Frankie is grabbing the morning paper from his mailbox. You physically recoil when you see him. There’s a harsh line of demarcation separating your lawn from his because he cuts his grass once in a blue moon. It’s such an eyesore.  

“Have you thought about, I don’t know, cutting your lawn?” you ask before shutting your car door.

He shoots you the middle finger and mouths something you can’t hear. You roll down the window for him to take a few steps closer to your car and repeat, “Stop feeding the fucking stray cats.”

Okay, maybe you aren’t the perfect neighbor either. But doesn’t he deserve it anyway?

“Bite me,” you respond, rolling your eyes and backing out of your driveway.

He rolls his eyes, too, and storms off. You giggle to yourself, feeling proud that you got a rise out of him. If he’s going to piss you off the least you could do is return the favor. 

-

Work is fine, a little busier than normal. But the afternoon exhaustion is hitting. You can’t wait to go home, take a shower, and maybe get some sleep before Frankie’s friends come over. It’s Friday and they’ll be even more unruly than they normally are during the week. Don’t they have lives? Or like… a fucking family to go home to?? Probably not if they’re hanging out with the likes of him. 

But alas, it’s finally time to go home. You close up the bakery and get in your car to drive back, excited to just melt into the couch for a few hours. As you turn onto your street you see that Frankie’s driveway is empty, for now, that is. He’s not outside, either. So that means you get to just slip inside your house without a hostile interaction for once. Score!

You pull into your driveway, get out of your car, and start walking towards your front door when a disgruntled voice stops you dead in your tracks. 

“Hey!”

Not again. 

“What do you want now?” you say, whipping around and using the bitchiest voice you can muster. 

“Cut your fucking tree,” Frankie says, holding up a lemon. 

…Is he fucking for real? 

You have a lemon tree at the edge of your backyard and a few branches hang over the fence and into Frankie’s yard. You never thought to trim it because you assumed you were doing something nice for him, letting him have some of the lemons. But no, apparently he wants to complain about free fruit. 

“You’re complaining about… free fruit?”

He stutters a bit, tripping on his words as if he just realized how stupid he sounds.

“I guess not.”

“That’s what I thought,” you say, turning and heading into your house.

The fucking nerve of that man. 

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful aside from a bitter man complaining about free fruit. You hear Frankie’s friends next door and grumble to yourself. How do they have the energy to party every single day of the week? You turn in early and do your best to ignore how loud they are, getting ready for another busy day at the bakery. Tomorrow’s Saturday, the busiest day of the week, and you need to be well rested. Well rested as you can be with all the noise from next door. 

-

The morning’s been typical so far; wake up feeling exhausted, argue with Frankie in the driveway, drive to work, open the bakery; and the usual stuff. It isn’t until halfway through your business hours that something… interesting happens. A woman enters the shop and browses the cakes in your display case. 

“I’d like to get some writing on a cake.”

“Sure! Which one would you like?”

“That one,” she says, pointing to one on the bottom, a vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream and strawberries in the middle. 

“Okay,” you say, grabbing it out of the case and taking it to your decorating table, “What would you like it to say?”

“Well, it’s for my boyfriend, Frankie so I’d like it to say “Happy birthday, Franklin” with a fish. I guess his nickname was catfish in the military.”

You know for a fact this is for Frankie because of the nickname. You’ve heard his friends screaming it next door when they’re drunk. But you also know for a fact his name is not Franklin, it’s Francisco. You didn’t have to ask him or anything, Amazon has delivered some of his packages to your house in the past by mistake. So this is fucking hilarious. 

“Any specific color for the writing?” you ask, stifling a chuckle. 

“Black is fine.”

You get to work on the writing and have mixed feelings. It’s kinda shitty that his own girlfriend doesn’t know his full name. And it’s also shitty that he’s going to have a birthday cake at his party with the wrong name on it. You should feel bad but… Nah, this guy sucks. 

You glance over at his girlfriend before moving on to the fish. Although she clearly doesn’t know her boyfriend that well at all, you can’t deny that she’s beautiful. And all of a sudden you’re feeling… jealous? Wait, why are you getting jealous of her? For a guy you can’t even stand?

You gotta finish decorating this cake and get her out of here so you can try to deal with your conflicting feelings. You package the cake back up and walk it to the counter to cash her out. 

“Okay, your total is fifty-three forty-nine. Cash or card?”

“Card,” she says, tapping it on the counter. 

The receipt prints out of the machine for her to sign but before you hand it to her you look at the name printed on the bottom; Heather Ryan. 

“Okay, just need your signature and then you’re all set!” 

She signs her name on the receipt and slides it back to you. 

“It looks great! Thank you so much!” she says before grabbing the cake and leaving. 

Now that she’s gone you can process your weird and sudden emotions. You didn’t know he had a girlfriend and to be honest, it kind of surprises you that he has one in the first place considering his… lifestyle. But why are you jealous? He’s the worst. 

Although… When you first moved in, you did think he was kinda cute before he showed his true colors. He got you with his curly brown hair peeking out underneath his hat but the attraction didn’t last long. Once his antic began, the attraction dissipated. 

…Or so you thought.

Stop it, you tell yourself. He has made your life hell for the better part of a year. 

You bury down your weird and confusing feelings for now, trying to continue the rest of the day as normal. The rest of the day is pretty uneventful and soon enough five o’clock rolls around. Just as you’re locking up the bakery, you get a text from your friend, Ally. 

Hey, bestieee!! Drinks tonight?

You know what, why not?

You respond with: 

Oooh, what time and where?

You get in your car and drive home, excited to have something to look forward to tonight. And at least you’ll be gone for some of Frankie’s antics. As you pull into your driveway you notice his friends aren’t there yet, all the better for you. You  check your phone and Ally says;

7:30. Let’s go to the Harp tonight!! I’ll meet you there. 

She’s referring to a bar downtown but to you, it honestly doesn’t matter where you go. You need to blow off some steam and work through your weird feelings with your friend, get her opinion on this random burst of jealousy you’re feeling. 

You take a shower, change into a skirt and fitted tee, and do your makeup before getting ready to leave. Just to find one of Frankie’s friends blocking your driveway, of course. Why wouldn’t they do this shit on the one night you have plans?

Nah, this isn’t going to fly. You gotta say something. You march right over to his door and judging by the noise coming from inside, his birthday party is tonight. Alright, maybe you won’t be a huge bitch about this right now. Especially when you know how his birthday cake turned out…

You knock and someone other than Frankie answers the door. You recognize him as one of Frankie’s friends but you can put a name to his face. 

“Oh, shit! Neighbor girl is here!” he says, calling out to Frankie over his shoulder. 

Before you can ask him about the truck blocking your driveway he says, “I’m Benny. Come on in!”

Yeah, he’s clearly drunk. Whatever this will be quick. You reluctantly step inside and look around. You’ve never actually been inside Frankie’s house before. It’s honestly nicer than you expected considering his lifestyle and the way he keeps his lawn. You’re standing in his living room with Frankie and three other men. You’re feeling anxious all of a sudden but you don’t show it. Who knows what Frankie said about you to these guys? 

“Look who it is, Fish!” Benny says, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Guys, this is my neighbor,” Frankie says. He looks a little… nervous? You’ve never seen him like this before. 

“I’m Santiago,” a man with dark hair says, shaking your hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, forcing a fake smile. 

“And this is Will,” Santiago continues, gesturing to a man with short blond hair. 

“You got anyone else coming, Fish?” Santiago asks, turning towards Frankie, “What about Heather?”

“Uh, she’s not coming.”

“Shit, man. Is everything alright?”

“We’re fine. But actually, can you help me with something in the kitchen?” Frankie asks, making eye contact with you. He looks bothered, like there’s something he wants to say but isn’t letting it come out. 

“Sure,” you reply, following him to the kitchen where he opens the refrigerator. The cake is sitting on the shelf in its box and your stomach drops. Poor guy. 

He grabs the cake from the refrigerator and sets it on the kitchen counter. 

“Can you help fix this? She put the wrong name,” he says, opening the lid to reveal the cake you decorated earlier today.

“I can try. Can you get me a butter knife?”

He opens his silverware drawer and hands you a knife. 

“Well, I think I can smear out the name and make a swirly pattern around the happy birthday?”

“Whatever you have to do,” he says softly. 

You take the knife and swipe away the “Franklin”, making a tie-dye design on the cake but stopping at the fish.

“You want me to leave the fish?”

“Nah, scrap it. Catfish is pretty much the only thing she knew about me anyway,” he says dejectedly.

“Right…” you respond awkwardly, swiping away your hard work from earlier. You can only assume he doesn’t know this birthday cake is from your bakery. But you fix the cake the best you can so it just says “Happy Birthday” with a swirly design. 

“That better?” 

“Yes. Thank you,” he says, letting out a sigh, “I just didn’t want them to see it.”

“I get that-”

“Let’s get this fucking party started!” Benny says, entering the kitchen and slamming a six-pack of beer on the counter. 

“Oh, actually I have to go-” you start. 

“What?? No way, you gotta stay,” Benny says, putting an arm around your shoulders. 

You could stay and just cancel your plans with Ally. But this is Frankie’s birthday party and you weren’t exactly invited. And you’re both aware of how much you painfully dislike each other. You look at Frankie, searching his eyes for an indication of how he’s feeling. 

“You’re more than welcome to join us,” he says softly. 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”

“Nooo, stay,” Benny says, looking at you with a wide grin on his face. 

“By all means,” Frankie says. 

“Fuck yeah,” Benny says, “Can I get you a drink? We have all sorts of shit.”

“Hard cider?”

“A woman with taste. I like it,” he says, removing the arm around your shoulders and opening the refrigerator. 

You pull out your phone to text Ally. It has to be something inconspicuous. She knows you hate Frankie with a passion so you can’t exactly say you’re partying with him and his friends right now. Maybe just lie and say you’re sick? 

You do exactly that, saying your stomach is bothering you. Just as you press send, Benny’s hanging you your hard cider. And now it’s just the three of you in Frankie’s kitchen, standing around awkwardly. 

“I have some of the MMA guys coming, too. That alright?” Benny says. 

“Fine with me. The more the merrier,” Frankie smiles. But the smile seems forced. 

Just Frankie says that there’s a knock on the door and it’s the guys Benny was referring to. A handful of men pile into Frankie’s living room with Will and Santiago, and now you’re the only girl here. And also sort of regretting your decision to cancel on Ally. 

“Let me introduce to you some of my friends!” Benny says cheerfully, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the living room. You exchange hello’s with Benny’s friends, a group of four guys whose names you can’t really be bothered to remember. 

Soon enough the folding table is pulled out and all of the guys are playing beer pong. You decide to just stand and watch, sipping your drink and keeping to yourself… except for Benny, who has been by your side all night. At first, it was kind of annoying but now that you’re talking to him he’s actually pretty cute. Or it’s just the alcohol talking. 

“Can I get you another drink?” he asks when yours is empty. 

“Sure,” you smile, handing the empty bottle to him. 

Now that you’re alone for a moment your eyes are scanning the room again, and they lock eyes with Frankie, who’s playing beer pong but not really paying attention. Benny comes back with your drink, handing it to you and leaning against the wall with his arm raised over his head. 

“Frankie never mentioned just how gorgeous you are.”

“Oh! Thank you,” you respond, caught you off guard. You’re feeling awkward, not knowing what to say back so your eyes are searching the room again. And once again, they lock with Frankie’s, whose eyes are… angry? But why is he angry? Is he… jealous? Nah, no way. He has a girlfriend. But she’s also proved herself to be shitty. And besides that, you two hate each other. Unless… you really don’t?

You decide to do a little experiment. Benny is super hot, but maybe you could turn up the flirting a bit and see just how jealous Frankie gets. 

And that’s exactly what you do. You’re laughing at all Benny’s jokes, falling for every cheesy pickup line, doing the thing where you look from his eyes, down to his lips, and back up to his eyes, literally anything to flirt. And even though it’s for an experiment, you’re having fun and you could actually see yourself maybe liking Benny.

You look over at Frankie, and to your surprise (and also delight?), he’s looking directly at you. His eyes are almost pleading with you. But at the end of the day, you don’t owe him anything. And he’s taken. So why stop all the fun?

“I just can’t believe this is the first time we’re meeting,” Benny says, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know Frankie had such nice friends!” you respond. 

Benny leans a little closer to you, his eyes fixed on your lips. Oh shit, is he really gonna kiss you? Right here? Right now? In front of everyone? 

But also… why not? 

You lean forward more too, inching closer and closing the gap between you two. Just as your lips are about to meet, Santiago shouts, “Jesus, Fish! What are you doing?!” 

You pull away from each other and look at what’s going on. It seems that Frankie royally screwed up the round of beer pong because he and Santiago just lost. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t yell at the birthday boy,” Will laughs. 

Santiago sighs and says, “Best two out of three?”

The other men shrug but Frankie excuses himself, saying, “I need another drink.”

You can’t help but feel like that was your fault. Shit, maybe Frankie does have some sort of crush on you? Because why else would he get jealous over his friend flirting with you? Wouldn’t he want that to happen, as a means of burying the hatchet between you two?

“I have to use the bathroom,” you say to Benny. 

“Down the hall on your right,” he says.

You set your drink down on the coffee table and walk through the kitchen, but before you head to the bathroom you take a look at Frankie, who’s sipping a beer and looking at his birthday cake. A look of confusion and uncertainty on his face. You just can’t help but feel bad for him in some sort of weird way. But there’s also a nagging feeling deep down inside you that’s telling you that you shouldn’t feel bad for him. This guy has been nothing but a complete asshole to you. Why do you care so much about his feelings? 

You head down to the bathroom and pull out your phone. There’s a text from Ally and thankfully she wasn’t upset about the plans getting canceled. But you look at the time and decide, you should just go home. Besides, it’s getting a little boring watching the men play beer pong and you’re running out of things to talk about with Benny. 

You head back into the living room and say to Benny, “I think I���m gonna head home.”

“Aw, okay. I’ll catch you later. But maybe you can come to one of my matches sometime?”

“I’d like that,” you smile. 

You poke your head into the kitchen and tell Frankie you’re leaving.

“Happy birthday by the way,” you say. 

He nods and waves his hand a little before you bid your goodbyes to everyone else and walk next door. And the only thought on your mind is… What the hell just happened?

You flop down on your couch and the room feels like it’s spinning, your mind swirling with all sorts of thoughts and emotions. You’re feeling a weird mix of confusion, pity, and also… apathy? You run through the basics: 

1. Frankie’s girlfriend sucks. 

2. It’s shitty that his birthday cake was messed up. 

3. You really don’t mind Benny at all and can see yourself liking him. 

4. At the end of the day, Frankie is still an asshole. 

And that trumps everything else, no matter how bad you feel for him. 

-

Mid-December 

Several weeks have gone by and you haven’t seen much of Frankie, or his friends for that matter. Lately, it feels like you've been living at the bakery twenty-four-seven. Especially since Thanksgiving just ended. But that also means you’re heading into another busy season; Christmas time. 

The holidays are your least favorite time of year. But running your own bakery means that you get to keep busy during the holidays. It’s always the perfect excuse for when your mother calls and asks why you’re not coming home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. You can usually get out of one and not the other. This year you skipped Thanksgiving so you’ll be due home for Christmas… unless you can think of another excuse to stay home again. But then you’ll get another phone call from your father claiming that “you’re breaking your mother’s heart” or whatever. 

From what you can tell, Frankie stayed home for Thanksgiving, too. Though you don’t know if his family is around here or not. His friends didn’t come over for Thanksgiving so you assume they were with their own families respectively. And you’re not really sure what happened with his girlfriend. So the two of you were just… alone that day. For some reason, the thought makes you kind of… sad? But like you told yourself weeks ago, don’t feel bad for Frankie, like at all. 

But now that you’re thinking of Frankie�� he’s been his typical self, but maybe scaled back a bit? His lawn hasn’t been cut in God knows how long and his friends still come over to party here and there. But it’s definitely been a lot less than usual. Maybe the holidays are tough for him, too. 

Just as you’re leaving to go open the bakery the week before Christmas, you get a phone call from your mom. You sigh and roll your eyes because you already know what this is about. And you’ve been dreading this phone call since Thanksgiving. 

“Yes, mom?” you say as you answer the phone. 

“Is that any way to answer a phone call from your mother?” she says. God, you can already feel the judgment and disappointment seeping from her voice, even over the phone. 

“Ah, sorry Mom. How are you?”

“I’m just calling to see if we can expect you home for Christmas this year.”

“Uhh-”

“You know, since you broke your mother’s heart and didn’t come home for Thanksgiving.”

“I think.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy, uh, with the bakery and all.”

“That’s always the excuse. I’m getting sick of your shit. I need a straight answer as to whether or not you’ll be home for Christmas now.”

As you open your mouth to respond, probably with some poorly thought-out rebuttal since you’re so heated, you spot Frankie walking across his lawn toward you. Perfect escape from this phone call maybe?

“Shit sorry Mom. Gotta go. My neighbor’s coming up to me.”

As you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up, you hear your mom’s angry protests. But you’re too focused on Frankie to care. Because what could he want with you now? You haven’t done anything to piss him off lately. That you can remember anyway… 

“Hey,” he says with a shaky breath.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Okay…”

“Feel free to say no because it’s weird but I don’t know what else to do. And I’m sorry to drop this on you but-”

“Spit it out.”

“Will you come home with me for Christmas as my date? It would be fake, of course.”

Oh. You definitely weren’t expecting that to be the favor he needed. And for some reason him adding in “it would be fake, of course” is so funny. It’s so funny that you actually burst out into a fit of laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re not being serious.”

“I am.”

“But… why?”

“My girlfriend broke up with me right before Thanksgiving.”

“Let me get this straight. She put the wrong name on your birthday cake and you let her break up with you first?”

“It’s not funny.”

“I know it’s not.”

“So, you’ll help me?”

“Why can’t you just go home alone?”

“Because I can’t go home for another holiday alone. I already skipped Thanksgiving. My family’s always pestering me about settling down and I can’t take it anymore.”

“What’s in it for me?” you sigh. 

“Uh, you don’t have to go home to your shitty family? I mean I’m just assuming from that phone call you just had.”

“Yeah and instead I get to go home to yours?”

“My family’s not shitty. They’re nothing like me.”

You can’t lie to yourself and say that the offer isn’t tempting. Because as soon as you mention the word “boyfriend” to your mother she’ll be all over it. Like Frankie’s family, your mom’s been pestering you to settle down, too. If you offer her some sort of crumb to give her the indication that you’re finally “settling down” maybe she’ll leave you alone for once. 

“Just think about it,” Frankie says while you’re contemplating his offer to himself. 

He turns to walk back to his house but you stop him before he goes anywhere.

“Wait!”

He turns around to face you again with a hopeful look in his eye. You can’t believe you’re actually agreeing to this.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I guess it beats going home to my family.”

“Thank you,” he says, pulling you in for a hug.

“Alright, the fake relationship hasn’t started yet,” you say, wincing at his embrace.

“Shit, you’re right,” he says, pulling away.

“How long are we there?”

“From the twenty-third until New Year’s. That okay with you? I know you have the bakery and all…”

It’s a little earlier than you prefer to close and it’s quite a long time to be gone but you suppose you can make do. Maybe you can catch a short flight home if you need to be back to the bakery by then?

“Yeah, fine with me. Where does your family live?”

“Savannah, Georgia.”

Oof, five hours in Frankie’s truck, just the two of you… But it’s worth it.

“Okay,” you sigh. 

“Great. Thank you so much. We’ll leave around ten, okay?”

“Alright. Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, one more thing. Can you bake something?”

You let out a sigh. “Yeah, sure. I’ll think of what to make.”

“Thanks again,” he says, putting his hands together like he’s praying before turning and walking back to his house. You’re left in your driveway questioning all your life choices that led up to this moment. But now you get to call your mom and tell her about this mysterious boyfriend you just happened upon. 

You get in the car to leave for work and call your mom again, making sure to act a bit more pleasant this time. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom,” you say, putting on your cheeriest voice.

“What happened with your neighbor?”

“Oh, nothing. He just had a package for me. Got delivered to his house by accident.”

“Oh, okay. So are you coming home for Christmas or what?”

“Actually, I’m not. I’m sorry. But I have a good reason?”

“And that is?”

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s family’s Christmas.”

“Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

“Uhh, it’s sort of new.”

“What’s his name?”

“Frankie.”

“Well, don’t fuck this one up. I want to meet him after Christmas, okay?”

Classic mom. She always has to make this about how much you suck.

“Of course. I’ll talk to you later, though. I gotta go open up the bakery.”

“Alright. Love you, bye.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

That’s the best phone call you’ve had with your mom in a while. Maybe pretending to date Frankie will be a good thing?

-

It’s time to go. You're dressed in a comfy outfit for the drive. Everything’s packed and ready to go. You decided to make lemon bars from the lemon tree in your backyard. They’re packed away neatly in your to-go container. You head outside with all of your bags and Frankie meets you in your hard to help you. 

“Jesus, did you pack the kitchen sink, too?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

You’re already questioning why you said yes to this. But then your mother’s nagging voice is deep in the back of your mind. 

It’s better than going home, you tell yourself.

You get into the passenger seat and Frankie backs out of the driveway. You look at his lawn out the window as you leave. Still not cut, of course. 

For the first thirty minutes of the drive, it’s painfully silent. Until Frankie says, “You let me know if you need to stop to pee or something.”

“Okay…” you say awkwardly.

Another fifteen minutes goes by and he breaks the silence again. 

“You know, if we want to sell this we have to act like a real couple.”

You were dreading this conversation.

“Yeah…”

“For one, we’ll probably gonna be sharing a bed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And we have to act like we somewhat like each other when we’re not alone.”

“I know,” you sigh.

“Think you can do that?”

“I said yes to this, didn’t I?”

“Right…”

You can’t sit through another uncomfortable silence again. You’ve still got like four more hours of this drive to go. 

“I guess we have to get to know each other.”

“Right. So what do you do? Oh fuck, I know you have the bakery but I meant tell me about it.”

“Uhh, right. I opened it four years ago. I just make desserts, like pastries and shit.”

“Gotcha.”

“What about you?”

“I used to be in the Army, specifically the Delta Force.”

“Oh, wow. How long were you in the Army?”

“I joined right after I got out of high school.”

“Long time,” you comment, “When did you leave?”

“About three years ago. I was just a pilot for a while.”

“Gotcha. What do you do now?”

“Not much. I’ve been living off my pension for the past two years after some shit happened.”

“We don’t have to talk about-”

“Our friend passed.”

“Oh, Frankie. I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more and you’re so curious for more information but you don’t want to pry either. It falls silent again and then you decide to pry for more information about a less heavy topic. 

“So… if you don’t mind me asking, what happened with your girlfriend?”

“She broke up with me two days before Thanksgiving.”

“That’s rough. What did you tell your family?”

“I pretended I was sick.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t be. I probably should’ve ended things a while ago. I don’t think she had any idea about who I really am.”

“Right.”

“She didn’t even know my full name.”

The cake that you made. 

“Yeah…”

“She put the wrong name and didn’t even get a cake I like.”

“About that.”

“Hm?”

“Do you know where she got that cake from?”

“No.”

“She came to my store.��

“…Did you know it was the wrong name?”

“Well yes, but what was I supposed to say? She’s the customer. I can't correct her. I just have to write what she ordered.”

“I know…” he sighs. 

“Regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that she was the wrong person for you, okay?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I felt bad making it.”

“You did?”

“I mean, it’s kinda shitty if your girlfriend doesn’t know your name, right?” You chuckle. 

“Right again,” he nods, looking over at you from the driver's seat. 

“So what kind of cake do you like then?” you ask. 

“Chocolate. I’m a simple guy.”

“Noted. So now I know Frankie Morales used to be in the Army, used to be a pilot, and likes chocolate cake. Anything else I need to know?”

“That about sums me up I guess.”

“Oh, come on! There’s more to you than that. What do you like to do for fun? Besides partying.”

“Oh, uh, I like to play poker with my friends. I’m into cars. And we’ll go support Benny at some of his matches. That’s pretty much all I do these days.”

“And also not cutting your lawn.”

“Listen-”

“And complaining about free fruit,” you tease. 

“Alright, alright. I know I haven’t been the best neighbor in the past.”

“Uh-huh,” you say sarcastically. 

“I guess after what happened I went down a spiral. And I was just… selfish for a while. Only caring about what I wanted to do and not thinking how it affects others.”

“That’s fair. You went through something traumatic.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but no words come out. It feels like he’s hiding something or not telling the full truth. And he wants to tell you, but he feels just can’t, that you’re not ready for that just yet. 

It’s silent again and this time you find yourself dozing off with your cheek pressed up against the cool glass window. Somehow you’re able to fall asleep to Frankie’s music that he put on to fill the silence. You recognize it’s a Tom Petty song, but as you’re trying to put your finger on just what song it is, sleep fully overtakes you. 

-

You were only out for about an hour and a half. It’s hard to sleep for long periods in a truck. As you open your eyes and stretch a little, Frankie says, “Wake up, sleepyhead. You’re officially the worst co-pilot in the world.”

“Whatever,” you say sarcastically, also while stifling back a yawn. 

“I’m just teasing. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t sleep for too long anyway. It’ll mess up my sleep schedule.”

“Oof, my sleep schedule is pretty fucked up.”

You glare at him from the passenger seat. But he doesn’t get why, looking at you and going “What?” with a shrug.

“I noticed,” you say coldly. 

Everyone knows the best time to air your grievances with each other is when you’re trapped in a moving vehicle together!

“Okay… Why do you seem mad?”

“You and your friends are just… loud.”

“Oh.”

“And I have to be up early in the mornings to open the store.”

“Oh,” he says again like the realization is hitting him. 

“It’s alright…” you say awkwardly, even though it’s not. 

“It’s not alright. I wasn’t being considerate.”

“I know, but I didn’t say anything either.”

“You sure said something about my lawn,” he teases. 

“Because it’s a fucking eyesore, Francisco!”

“Be honest. You just wanted to see me mowing the lawn with my shirt off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t lie! I saw the way you looked at me when you first moved in.”

“Oh, shut up!” you say, playfully slapping him on the arm. 

“You’re not denying it,” he says with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Maybe I thought you were cute when I first moved in. Didn’t last long, though.”

“I know,” he sighs, “I’m trying to be better. Ironically enough I think Heather dumping me was what I needed.”

“I think so, too.”

Before either of you can say anything else, Frankie’s passing a sign indicating there’s a rest stop ahead. 

“Can we stop? I have to pee,” you say. 

“Sure thing,” he says, pulling off the highway and into the rest stop parking lot. 

“Meet you back here?” you say, opening the door. 

“I’ll go with you. All sorts of seedy characters hang out at rest stops,” he says, getting out of the car and walking around to your side. 

He helps you get out of the truck and walks inside with you, placing a hand on the small on your back as you cross the parking lot. His head’s in a constant swivel, eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. 

“I think I’ll take it from here,” you say, stopping in front of the women’s restroom. 

“I’ll be waiting here,” he nods. 

You nod back and look at what he’s wearing; a burgundy t-shirt with a black zip-up sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, and of course the Standard Oil cap. Now that you’re starting to see Frankie for who he really is… you don’t mind him at all? Seven months ago you never thought this would’ve happened, that you’d actually be civil with him. Maybe you just had to give him a chance. 

You do your business and walk back out to the lobby to meet Frankie. He’s on high alert, standing stiff as a board and taking in all of his surroundings. Until he sees you and his face lights up. 

“I got us some stuff for the road!” he says cheerfully, holding up a plastic bag. 

You look inside the bag and “some stuff” was an understatement. It looks like Frankie bought out the entire store. There are bottles of water, soda, different kinds of chips, candy, and gum- you name it, he bought it. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked. So I just got a few different things,” he says, most likely noticing how wide your eyes got. 

“Thanks, Frankie. That was sweet of you.”

“Do you need anything else before we get back on the road?”

“I think I’m all set,” you nod. 

You walk back to the truck with him and he does the same thing he did before, placing a hand on your back as you cross the parking lot. He opens your door for you and you take the bag from him once you’re settled in your seat. He gets back into the driver seat and soon enough, you’re back on the road.

“So I should probably prepare you for meeting my family,” he says, reaching for a Slim Jim in the bag. 

“Oh god, why?” 

“They’re not bad. They’re just… a lot? But they mean well.”

“Okay.”

“So you have my mother, Rosa, and my father Francisco Sr. But he passed away when I was twenty.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I have three older sisters.”

“You’re the baby of the family?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothing. It just tracks.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks. My sisters are Ria, Isabel, and Laura. Ria is married to Emmanuel and they have two kids, Luna and Camila. They’re college-aged. And then Isabel is with her wife, Aurora.”

“Okay,” you respond, mentally trying to keep track of all this. 

“And then Laura is married to Rafael and they have three kids, Sofia, Anthony, and Marcelo. Sofia is twelve. I think Anthony’s nine or ten. And Marcelo is four. He’s my favorite.”

“Frankie! You’re not supposed to have favorites.”

“It’s not like I tell them that. I also have two aunts, Aunt Linda and Aunt Maggie. They’re my mother’s sisters. And then my Uncle Tommy, he’s my dad’s brother. And then there’s Cousin Ben, he’s Tommy’s son, around my age.”

You’re doing mental gymnastics, trying to memorize everyone’s names, ages, and who they’re married to. 

“Got all that?” Frankie says with a smirk, noticing the puzzled expression on your face. 

“I think so?”

“Don’t worry. Everyone will introduce themselves when we get there. They’re not gonna leave you alone so sorry about that in advance.”

“It’s alright. It beats going home to my family.”

“What are they like? I’m assuming they’re… not good if you don’t want to go home for the holidays.”

“Yeah, you’ve got it pretty much. My mom is super overbearing and nitpicking. I can’t do anything, or wear anything, or even say anything without her giving her two cents. My dad just sits there and lets her spew her bullshit without a filter. And then my younger sister, Erica, is just… perfect. She can’t do anything wrong in their eyes.”

“That sounds tough.”

“It is. I stopped going home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. I try to just do one each year but I can’t take it anymore.” 

“I understand,” Frankie says softly. 

“My sister’s in medical school to be a cardiologist. So to my parents, running a bakery just doesn’t compare.”

“That’s stupid. Don’t they know how hard it is to run your own business?”

“No, and they probably don’t care to be honest.” 

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for getting me a way out of Christmas this year, though.”

“Of course. You’re doing me a big favor.”

The rest of the drive goes smoothly and eventually, you’re pulling into Frankie’s parents' house in Savannah. The second Frankie’s truck is in the driveway, an older woman, probably his mother, is running out of the front door and into the driveway. He parks the truck and you get out to meet her. She immediately pulls Frankie into a big hug. 

“My baby’s home!!,” she says, embracing him and placing her hands on the back of his head. 

“You and that damn hat,” she says, “You have such beautiful hair, mijo. Why do you hide it?”

“You know I like the hat, Ma.”

She pulls away and her eyes are immediately on you. You’re nervous about her first impression of you, even though you’re not even Frankie’s girlfriend. But she thinks you are and you need to play the part. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” she says, pulling into a hug, too. She gives the best hugs, rubbing your back and swaying just a little, even though you just met. 

“I want you to be comfortable here, okay? My house is your house,” she says, pulling back and grabbing your hands. 

“Thank you so much for having me in your home, Mrs. Morales,” you smile. 

“Please! Call me Rosa. Let Francisco get the bags and we’ll go inside, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nod, following her inside the house. 

It’s a beautiful home, decorated to the nines with the Christmas spirit. She leads you to her living film where there are pictures of everyone Frankie mentioned on the way here. On the coffee table, there’s one of Frankie’s parents with him and his sisters. You can really see the resemblance there between him and his mom. They have the same warm brown eyes and dimples. 

“You have a beautiful home, Rosa,” you tell her, sitting on the couch next to her. 

“Thank you, honey,” she says, “Tell me about yourself. It’s so hard to get Francisco on the phone these days. I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“I live in Tampa like Frankie. We don’t live too far from each other And I run a bakery.”

“Wow, good for you. It’s hard running your own business. Your parents must be very proud.”

“They are,” you say, lying through your teeth. 

“How has my son been? He’s been a little off since he lost Tom in Colombia two years ago. He’s not doing drugs again, is he?”

“Oh! No, to my knowledge, he isn’t?” you respond, stumbling over your words. That was a lot of information to take in, most of it Frankie hasn’t told you about yet. 

“That’s good,” she sighs, “I worry about him.”

“I get it. But I think he’s on an upward trajectory.”

“Thank you, honey. I know he’s a lot to put up with.”

Frankie meets you in the living room and plops down on an armchair across from the couch, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“Tired?” you chuckle. 

“Yeah,” he pants, “Someone had to pack everything they own and the kitchen sink, too.”

“Francisco! You grew up with all women. Don’t you know this is how we are?” his mother says. 

“Yeah, Frankie,” you add sarcastically. 

“You two are gonna be the death of me,” he says, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. 

“Where did you put the lemon bars?”

“In the refrigerator.”

“You made lemon bars? Francisco told me you liked to bake.”

“Yeah!” you say, turning towards her again, “I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

“Why don’t you both help me prepare dinner for tomorrow night? After you rest, of course. You had a long drive.”

“Oh, yeah. I need a nap,” Frankie says, getting up from the chair and heading up the stairs. 

“Get some rest, honey,” she says, gesturing towards the stairs. 

“Okay,” you say, feeling a little awkward that you’re supposed to just go lay in a bed with Frankie. 

Frankie’s waiting for you at the top of the stairs, smiling down at you. For some reason the sight makes your heart skip a beat. You meet him upstairs and he leads you to his childhood bedroom. His walls are blue and his bookshelves are filled with baseball trophies from when he was a kid up until high school. There are a few car posters scattered on his ealls. The bags are at the foot of his bed that’s tucked away in the corner of his room and thankfully, it’s not a twin-sized bed. Across the room is his desk, a few comic books stacked in a messy pile like he never left. 

“This is my room,” he says, gesturing vaguely to the space around him. 

“Cute,” you say, walking around and eyeing some of the stuff he has on his shelves. There’s a picture in a frame of Frankie as a kid with presumably his father right after one of his baseball games. He was a cute kid, wearing a toothy grin with some holes for the baby teeth he lost. 

“That’s my dad,” he says, noticing you looking at the picture. 

“Now that I’m looking at him, I can’t tell who you look like more,” you comment. 

“Definitely my dad,” he says. 

You turn to look at him and realize he’s right. A lot of his facial features match his father’s, but his eyes- those are his mother’s. 

“Are you tired?” he asks. 

“A little,” you yawn. 

“I don’t have to sleep in bed with you,” he says quickly. 

“I thought you said we were going to? You know, to keep up appearances or something,” you say, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Oh, right. Just making sure.”

He takes off his sweatshirt and his hat, his curls matted down from wearing it on his head all day. He sets them down on the desk and walks over to the bed, pulling back the comforter and slipping in between the sheets. He moves to the side closest to the wall, letting you have the outside and the wall with the outlet to charge your phone like a true gentleman. You crawl in beside him, lying down side by side, mere inches from each other. 

“You don’t sleep naked, do you?”

He doesn’t say anything at first and you take that as a yes. 

“…I won’t while we’re home.”

“Cool,” you say awkwardly, rolling on your side and closing your eyes. 

“Goodnight?” he says. 

“It’s just a nap, but sure. Goodnight, Frankie,” you chuckle. 

…You do your best to fall asleep but to be honest, you’re freezing. You don’t really get why. You’re only a few hours north and Georgia doesn’t typically get too cold. Unless his mom has the air on or a window open; something. That doesn’t make sense, though. Don’t elderly people keep their houses entirely too hot?

“You’re shivering,” Frankie says, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can see you shaking.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to be cold.”

“What’s your solution then?”

“I could tell my mom to adjust the-”

“No, do not do that.”

“Or there’s the other option.”

“Uh huh…”

“I could hold you.”

“…You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.”

“…Fine.”

You feel him scooch closer to you and all of a sudden his warm chest is pressed up against your back. The comforter lifts for a second before his muscular arm wraps around you, pulling you even closer towards him. You’re immediately feeling warmer. He’s like a human space heater or something. 

“Better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

As much as you hate to admit it, you’re much more comfortable now. However, there is one thing that’s keeping you from falling asleep. And that’s Frankie’s bulge presses right up against your ass. 

…You don’t hate it, though. If anything it makes you feel… good? Knowing that you have that effect on him. Maybe he really was jealous weeks ago at his birthday party. All of this begs the question; when did his feelings for you begin?

Lost in thought and enveloped in Frankie’s body heat, you drift off to sleep. 

-

You wake up an hour or so later to the doorbell ringing. Frankie wakes up, too, stretching and removing the arm that was slung over your waist. You already miss its absence. 

Frankie’s mom is talking to someone at the door. And it sounds like she’s talking to… a pizza delivery guy?

Frankie rolls onto his back, stretching again and yawning. You fall onto your back, too, lying side by side. 

“I think she ordered pizza,” Frankie says sleepily. 

“That was nice of her.”

“Just so we don’t have to worry about making dinner tonight while we prepare tomorrow’s.”

“Make sense,” you reply, rolling out of bed and stretching once your feet hit the floor. 

“Did you sleep well?” Frankie asks, sitting at the edge. 

“I did. Thanks for keeping me warm.”

“You’re welcome but it wasn’t all for you, though.”

“Oh?” you ask, wondering if he could be referring to the hard-on he had while holding you…

“Yeah, I can’t sleep next to you if you’re shaking like a leaf.”

You roll your eyes and he chuckles, leading you down the hallway and down the stairs, straight into the kitchen where the pizza awaits. 

“Dinner’s here!” Rosa says cheerfully, gesturing to the pizza boxes on the counter, “There’s a salad and garlic bread, too.”

“Thanks, Ma,” Frankie says, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you say, “Are you sure you don’t want anything towards it?”

“Nonsense! When you’re in my house, I take care of you,” she says, waving you off. 

A saint of a woman she is. Frankie’s lucky to have a mother like her. The three of you sit at the kitchen counter eating while Rosa talks about what Christmas Eve dinner will be. 

“So tonight we’ll prepare the pasteles. And tomorrow we’ll do the rice and beans. Ria is bringing rolls. Laura’s bringing salad. And Isabel’s bringing flan.”

“Ooh, I love flan. I can make gingerbread cookies for Christmas Day, too,” you say, finishing your slice of pizza. 

“Thank you, honey. We’ll have a great time tomorrow. And you’ll get to meet all of Frankie’s sisters.”

“How exciting,” you say looking over at Frankie. 

“Frankie’s the baby of the family,” his mother says. 

“I could tell,” you snicker.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You just have little brother energy,” you shrug.

“What about you, dear?” his mom asks. 

“It’s just me and my sister. I’m the oldest.”

“Well you have older sister energy, so how about that?”

“So I’m wiser and more responsible?”

“Whatever,” Frankie sighs. 

“It’s true, Francisco. You can ask Ria.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he says sarcastically, taking all your plates to the sink. 

You clean up from dinner with Frankie before preparing the pasteles. You’re standing at the kitchen island, stuffing the pasteles and listening to Rosa tell stories about Frankie when he was a kid. 

“He was my toughest kid to potty train,” she says, shaking her head. 

“Mom!” Frankie says, shooting daggers at her with his glare. 

“What? You were. And I have the pictures to prove it. For the first two years, you would only use the training potty. I’ll bring out the photo albums tomorrow.”

“No,” Frankie says quickly. 

“Oh yes,” you laugh. 

“Ughhh,” Frankie sighs while you and Rosa share a laugh. 

Soon enough all of the pasteles are prepped for tomorrow and the kitchen is clean again.

“Thank you both for helping me. Now get some sleep! You’ll need all the energy you can get to deal with this family.”

“Goodnight, Ma,” Frankie says, heading towards the stairs. 

“Goodnight. Thank you again for everything,” you say to her. 

“Of course, honey. See you in the morning!” she says. 

As you’re heading up the stairs, she calls out to Frankie, “Francisco! Make sure you show her where the fresh towels are!”

“I will, Ma,” Frankie says, calling down the stairwell. 

“You want to shower?”

Before you can respond he quickly adds, “Not with me of course.”

“I know,” you snort, “But sure. Where’s the bathroom?”

He leads you down the hallway and stops at a door on the right, opening to reveal a linen closet. 

“Towels are here. Bathroom’s over here,” he says, pointing to a door directly across from the linen closet. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, grabbing a towel and heading to the shower. You shut the door behind you and now that you’re alone for once, you let your mind wander…

What happened in Colombia? And what sort of drugs was Frankie on?

You turn on the shower and strip, letting the hot water run down your body as you think about all the possibilities. He did say he lost a friend. Maybe that’s what happened in Colombia. But that doesn’t explain the drugs. 

A knock on the door brings you back to reality. 

“Can I come in?” Frankie asks. 

“Uhh-”

“I just have to brush my teeth. I won’t look.”

“I guess.”

He opens the door and enters the bathroom, keeping his word and looking away from the shower curtain. In fact, he looks at anything else in the bathroom but the shower curtain, picking up a bottle of Tylenol from the medicine cabinet and reading the warnings. You poke your head out of the shower, watching as he brushes his teeth and reads the label on the bottle. And there’s something so… cute about it, so endearing. And now that you think about it, you wouldn’t particularly mind if he saw you in the shower. You can’t believe you’re actually admitting this to yourself. 

But before you know it he spits the sink and rinses his mouth, exiting the bathroom and leaving you with your confusing feelings yet again. You finish your shower and dry off, thinking about his mysterious past again. All of this strange information begs the question… What was he doing in Colombia in the first place? Does he have some dark secrets he’s hiding? And if so, how could he be so cute? 

You look at the toilet and see that Frankie also brought you your pajamas, flannel Christmas pants, a short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of lacy underwear…

That means he went through your bag, which should make you mad but the fact he decided to bring you your pajamas so you didn’t have to walk down the cold hallway sopping wet is adorable. 

You’ll ask him about his past later you decide. For now, he’s your cute pretend boyfriend and you’re going to live in that fantasy for a while. 

Once you’re dry and dressed, you hang your towel up on a hook and walk back to Frankie’s room, where he’s tucked into bed waiting for you. You crawl into bed beside him, lying down on your side and feeling his warm embrace again. His arm returns around your waist and soon enough you’re falling asleep, comforted by his warmth and his scent. 

-

The smell of food cooking downstairs wafts up to Frankie’s room, pleasantly waking you up. Frankie’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded neatly on his tummy. 

You roll over and ask, “You okay?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine. I think I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous for what? Your family sounds awesome.”

“They are. They can just be overwhelming, I guess.”

“I get it. It’ll be fine, though. Like you said, I don’t think they’ll leave me alone.”

“Right,” he says, shaking his head, “It’s stupid. Today’s gonna be fun.”

“Wanna help me with the gingerbread cookies?” you say, getting out of bed and stretching once your feet hit the floor. 

“Sure,” he says, sitting at the edge and yawning, “Do you need to get anything for them?”

“I could just DoorDash some stuff. I don’t want to raid your mom’s kitchen.”

“Ah, she won’t mind. Let’s go downstairs.”

He stands up and stretches, the short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing lifting a little and exposing some of his tummy. His flannel pajama pants are hanging low on his hips and he’s got a little bed-head going on, his curls slightly matted in the back. God, he’s just so… cute. You can’t deny it any longer. As much as you don’t want it to be true, Frankie Morales is a cute man.

You follow him downstairs to the kitchen where his mother is cooking away, stirring different pots and pans on the stove. 

“Good morning you two,” she smiles. 

“Good morning,” you respond, “It smells amazing down here.”

“Thank you, honey.”

“Ma, I think we’re going to make the gingerbread cookies if we won’t be in your way.”

“Go ahead! By all means. Maybe you can decorate them with the kids tonight?”

“Good idea! Do you need me to get anything from the store?”

“Nonsense! I should have everything you need.”

“Told you,” Frankie says, opening a cabinet and looking through the shelves with you. 

To your surprise, she has everything you need for the cookies. And as you sit down at the dining room table Frankie says, “This kitchen is always fully stocked.”

As you roll the dough you think about tonight, meeting the rest of Frankie’s family. You’re excited to meet them but you’re also wondering what you should wear. You packed a few different options for outfits because every family’s vibe is different. Your family tends to lean more formal when it comes to holidays but Frankie’s family could be the complete opposite. 

“Frankie?” you ask, cutting the gingerbread men out with a cookie cutter. 

“Yeah?”

“What does your family wear on Christmas? Like do they dress up?”

“Oh, we abandoned trying to look nice a long time ago. Especially once my sisters started having kids.”

“Oh, okay. So don’t dress up?” 

“Nah.”

That makes you feel at least a little relieved. For some reason, you’re dying for them to like you. And you don’t even get why. You’re not Frankie’s girlfriend. There’s a large chance you’ll never see them again after you leave and go back to Florida. 

Once the cookies are on the trays, you pop them in the oven and set a timer on your phone. Rosa’s just about finished with dinner for tonight and Frankie’s cleaning up the mess from the cookies. You look at the clock on the stove and ask, “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around five or so.”

It’s already two-thirty now. You should probably get ready soon, in case Rosa and Frankie need the shower. 

“I’ll pull the cookies out if you want to go get ready,” Frankie says as if he read your mind. 

“Oh okay, thanks. Fifteen more minutes.”

“Gotcha,” he says, leaning against the counter beside the stove. 

You go upstairs and into Frankie’s room, going over all of your outfit choices in your head. You decide to wear option 3, light wash jeans and an emerald green sweater, nothing too fancy. You grab your clothes and your makeup and head to the bathroom, taking extra time to get ready. The timer on your phone for the cookies goes off and you hope Frankie remembers to take them out. You continue your shower, anxiously thinking about meeting the rest of his family. 

Eventually, as you’re dressed and putting on your makeup, Frankie knocks on the door. 

“Can I come in?”

“Go ahead,” you say, leaning forward toward the mirror and putting on your mascara. 

He opens the door and looks at you, practically bent over the sink. 

“You look…”

“Huh?” you, turning your head towards him. 

“You look nice,” he says, eyes wide. 

“Thanks. I’m almost done and then the bathroom’s all yours.”

“No rush. Take your time.”

You finish your makeup and gather all your stuff, leaving him in the bathroom and heading back to his room. You plop your stuff down on his bed and think of what to do next. Might as well make yourself useful while he’s showering and get the icing bags ready for the gingerbread cookies. You head back down to the kitchen, where Rosa’s sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. 

“You look beautiful, honey,” she says. 

“Thank you,” you say, sitting down across from her. 

“Francisco’s in the shower?”

“Yes, he is. I think I’m going to get the icing bags ready for the cookies if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she says, springing up from her chair and rifling through the kitchen cabinets. 

She pulls out an electric mixer, confectioners sugar, and food coloring, setting them down on the table. 

“Milk’s in the refrigerator and let me get you some Ziploc bags…” she says, reaching into the cabinet again.

“Thanks,” you say, getting to work on the icing while she sits across the counter and watches. 

“I know I’ve just met you but I want to say thank you, for taking care of my son,” she says. 

“Of course,” you smile, scooping icing into the ziploc bag for makeshift piping bags.

“He hasn’t been the same since Tom died. But now that he’s here, it’s like he’s his old self again.”

Tom. There’s that name again. You have to know what happened if you’re going to keep up this charade. This is the second time she’s mentioned it and you’re playing along like you know what happened. It’s bound to come up again. 

“I’m glad he’s doing much better,” you say, adding food coloring to the bags. 

Eventually, you hear the water turn off which means Frankie must be getting out of the shower. Rosa gets up from her stool and says, “Well now that Francisco’s finally done, I guess I’ll go shower. I’m sure he left me no hot water.”

You two share a laugh and she heads up the stairs. You’re left alone with your thoughts until Frankie comes back downstairs again. So for now, in the fleeting moments of solitude, you think of ways to ask Frankie about his past that don’t sound completely insensitive. You could ask him under the guise of just trying to keep the charade going. This whole thing was his idea. He’d have to understand, right?

“Hey,” he says, snapping you from your thoughts. You didn’t even notice him coming downstairs. 

“Hi.”

“These look good. The kids will have fun decorating them.”

“I hope so,” you say.

You’re both just standing awkwardly in the kitchen, not saying a word. You think to yourself that maybe now would be the best time to ask, in case you need this information for tonight to go smoothly. 

You open your mouth to ask, “What happened in Colombia?” but you’re interrupted by the front door opening. 

“Feliz Navidad!” a woman’s voice shouts. You’re assuming it’s one of Frankie’s sisters or aunts. 

He pokes his head down the hallway and shouts, “Ria!” 

You glance over at the clock and she’s early. Frankie looks over at you and says, “She’s always early.”

“She’s the oldest?”

He nods. It makes sense. 

She comes into the kitchen and pulls Frankie into a big hug. She looks like a younger version of Rosa, a little bit shorter than Frankie. Her husband and kids pile in behind her, her girls hugging Frankie and her husband shaking his hand. 

“So nice of you to show up for Christmas. Not battling some mysterious illness this time, huh?” she teases. 

“I’m not lying! I was really sick.”

You’re standing there awkwardly in the kitchen, not trying to interrupt the family reunion. It isn’t until one of Ria’s daughters looks over at you and asks, “Who’s this?” that your presence is acknowledged. 

Frankie walks over to you and snakes an arm around your waist, proudly saying, “This is my girlfriend!” followed by your name. 

“Nice to meet you!” Ria says, “It’s been such a long time since Francisco’s brought a girl home!”

This is the second family member to refer to him as Francisco and now you’re wondering if you should be doing the same. Before you can continue she motions her daughters over and says, “This is Luna and Camila. Luna’s in her junior year of college and my Camila’s a senior in high school!”

“Exciting times for both of you,” you comment, not really knowing what to say. 

But Ria continues anyway. “And this is my husband, Emmanuel,” she says, gesturing to her husband in the corner. He seems like the quiet type, letting his wife do all the talking in social situations. 

“Where’s Ma?” Ria asks Frankie. 

“In the shower. Are the others on their way?”

“Laura’s almost here. Isabel and Roro will probably be late as per usual. Will you grab the rolls out of the car?”

Emmanuel nods, again not saying much of a word at all before heading out to the car in the driveway. Ria and the girls take off their coats, hanging them on a coat rack by the front door. While Luna and Camila retreat to the living room, Ria takes the rolls from Emmanuel and puts them in the drawer underneath the oven, putting them on a low setting to keep the rolls warm until dinner starts. Soon enough, you’re all sitting in the living room together, awkwardly exchanging glances and waiting for either Rosa to come downstairs or for someone else to arrive. 

And for a while, it feels like the front door doesn’t close, a slew of family members coming in left and right. First, it was Aunt Maggie. Then it was Laura with her husband, Rafael, and their kids, Sofia, Anthony (who insists you call him Tony), and Marcelo, Frankie’s favorite. And Frankie wasn’t lying about Marcelo being his favorite, his eyes practically lit up the moment Laura walked in the door, carrying him on her hip. After Laura’s family, Uncle Tommy and Cousin Ben came. Frankie’s arm around your waist tightened when Ben looked you up and down which made your heart do somersaults. Aunt Linda followed soon after. And finally, last but not least, Isabel and Aurora (who goes by Roro) arrived. 

Somewhere in between all of the commotion Rosa returned downstairs. And you’re left with your head spinning, trying to keep track of everyone’s names and trying to make a good first impression. And you think you succeeded? Laura and her kids are really nice. Marcelo’s been hanging off you and Frankie since he set foot in the door. Isabel is definitely the coolest Morales sister out of the three of them. You don’t really have any complaints about Frankie’s aunts. And Uncle Tommy’s been dozing off on the couch, reminding everyone to wake him up when it’s time for dinner. You don’t mind Ben at all but he definitely has a little crush on you. You don’t spend too much time talking to him, just enough to learn he teaches high school English.

You also noticed that Isabel, Roro, Uncle Tommy, Ben, and his brother-in-law all call him Frankie and not Francisco. But his mom, Ria, Aunt Maggie, and Aunt Linda call him Francisco. And to the nieces and nephews, he’s Uncle Frankie of course. 

Eventually, Rosa announces that it’s time for dinner. Frankie and Ben set up a small folding table for the kids, except for Marcelo who sits on Laura’s lap. You sit in between Frankie and Isabel. Rosa sits at the head of the table and before everyone digs in she says, “Now who would like to say grace?”

“I will,” Tony says, raising his hand from the kids' table.

“Go ahead,” Rosa says.

“Grace. Okay, we’re done. Let’s eat, everybody!”

Everyone shares a laugh and Rosa decides, “You know what? It’s good enough for me!”

The rest of Christmas Eve goes smoothly. After dinner, you help the adults clean up before bringing out the gingerbread cookies to decorate. All of the kids, even Luna and Camila, sit around the table with you, decorating the cookies with your makeshift piping bags. Ria takes a picture of you guys, brows furrowed in concentration as you all try to make the cookies absolutely perfect. 

“Aren’t you gonna do one?” you ask Frankie, who’s standing beside you and watching. 

“Sure,” he says, pulling up a chair. 

He grabs a gingerbread woman and begins to draw a face on her. But before he’s done he gives her a frown and angry eyebrows, holding it up and saying, “Look! It’s you when I don’t mow the lawn!”

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, grabbing your own gingerbread man and giving him not only angry eyebrows but a yellow blob in his hand. 

“Look! It’s you when you complain about free lemons.”

The kids laugh even though they don’t know the full context of the joke. But once the last cookie is decorated, people begin to head out, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and saying goodnight. Once the main level is cleaned up you and Frankie say goodnight to his mom. She tells you that Christmas dinner is at Ria’s and that it starts at two. 

With that, you’re off to bed, returning to your rightful place of being spooned by Frankie. And for once, the two of you are alone again. Your mind goes back to Tom, what happened in Colombia, and Frankie’s drug addiction. You’re just gonna do it, rip the bandaid off

“Frankie?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Well, earlier your mom was talking about your friend Tom and what happened in Colombia… I know it’s not really my business but should I know what happened? You know to keep up the act-”

He sighs and you fear you’ve overstepped.

“I figured it was going to come up sooner or later.”

He pulls away to rest on his back, staring at the ceiling and recounting what happened. You lie on your back, too, looking over at him as he begins his story. 

“A few years ago, I developed a really bad addiction to coke. And it cost me almost everything. I lost my pilot's license. Santiago approached me, Tom, Will, and Benny about going to Colombia to steal money from this drug lord, Lorea.”

“I see,” you comment, letting him continue.

“It seemed appealing at the time. I needed the money, you know?”

“I get it,” you say softly.

“The mission was a fucking shitshow. We took fucking two hundred and fifty million dollars and lost all of it. It was too heavy for the helicopter so we crash-landed in a cocaine farm. They thought we were DEA and Tom killed some of them. So then we had to pay them as some kind of reparation. We went through the Andes on mules and two of the villagers followed us. One of them shot Tom and we had to carry him, the rest of the money through the mountains. When we finally reached the coast, the getaway boat was there waiting for us but the town was filled whatever was left of Lorea’s crew. There was no way we could carry all that cash with Tom’s body and make it to the boat without being killed. So we had to dump most of it down a fucking ravine.”

He’s getting more and more upset as he tells his story. And you feel guilty you even asked in the first place. He didn’t need to tell you all the details. He could’ve said his friend Tom died on a military mission in Colombia and that would’ve been enough to quell your curiosity. 

“Somehow we made it to the boat, but not without a fucking car chase and shootouts. By the end, we were left with a little over one million dollars each, but we decided to give it all to Tom’s family,” he says, finishing with a deep breath. 

You roll onto your side and look over at him. He’s not crying but you can tell he’s visibly upset, his eyes misty. 

“Thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s hard to recount a traumatic experience like that.”

“It’s okay. Figured you should probably know. My family thinks it was some sort of mission for the Army, not that we went rogue. I don’t want them to know the true nature of what it was… greed.”

“Understandable.”

“So after all that I came home with a dead friend and no money.”

“I guess the overgrown lawn and the constant partying make sense now.”

That actually gets him to laugh. 

“I guess it does,” he chuckles, “But thanks for putting up with me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“And thanks for coming here and doing this for me. That happened two years ago and my family has been worried sick about me since. Whenever my mom calls me I just… I just lie. I think if she saw how I was doing now it would break her heart. But here with you, she thinks you’re like my saving grace.”

You don’t say anything because you really don’t know what to say. It’s nice his mother feels that way, but it’s all a lie. 

“I know that was a lot…” he says.

“You’re okay. I’m here to listen,” you reassure him. 

“You should probably get some sleep. You’ll need all the energy you can get to deal with my family for another day.”

“Okay,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side. Frankie spoons you again like he always does. This time you don’t feel something hard against your lower back, instead you feel Frankie’s breath by your ear. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, holding you a little tighter as he falls asleep. 

-

You wake up to Frankie still holding you just as tight. You’ve never had a Christmas like this, one so peaceful. 

And then it hits you… it’s Christmas. Which means you need presents, something you completely forgot all about. You were too wrapped up in pretending to be Frankie’s girlfriend. 

“Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

Has he been awake this whole time? And still holding you just as tight… 

Whatever, worry about that later. 

“I forget to get everyone fucking presents.”

“Already took care of it.”

“Really?” 

“Mhm,” he says, propping his elbow on the pillow and looking down at you, “You’ve never met them before. How could you get presents for people you don’t even know?” 

“Right,” you say, lying on your back. 

“Merry Christmas,” he smiles. 

“Merry Christmas,” you respond. 

“Let’s go exchange with my mom.”

You roll out of bed first and let him grab the presents from his suitcase. 

“What did I get her?”

“A sweater. It’s her favorite color.”

“Ooh, good idea.”

He hands you the present and it’s wrapped like a typical guy would wrap it. 

“I’m telling her you wrapped it.”

“Oh, she’ll be able to tell,” he laughs. 

You follow him down the stairs where his mother is sitting on the couch watching a Hallmark movie. She smiles and wishes you a Merry Christmas when she sees you, grabbing presents from under the tree. 

You give her the present “you” got her and she clocks Frankie’s wrapping job right away. 

“I can tell Francisco wrapped this,” she chuckles, unwrapping the gift and opening the box. She tells you she loves it and pulls you in for a big hug. Even though you didn’t actually buy the gift, you can’t help but appreciate the sense of approval. Your mom would’ve criticized whatever you got her, no matter how great the gift was. 

Rosa got Frankie a wallet with his initials engraved in the leather. She got you an apron with your name embroidered on it. Both presents were very thoughtful and as she’s pulling out the photo albums like she promised the other day, Frankie whispers in your ear, “She’s big on getting things personalized.”

The three of you spend the rest of the morning looking at photo albums until it’s time to get ready to go to Ria’s. For once, Frankie can’t wait to jump in the shower, anything to get away from the “embarrassing” pictures his mom is showing you. 

Once the three of you are ready you drive to Ria’s in Frankie’s truck, with the gifts piled in the back seat. He parks on the street and you head inside to the already bustling house. Everyone shouts “Feliz Navidad” as you’re taking off your shoes before joining them at the table. 

The menu for Christmas dinner is empanadillas, tostones, pernil, and arroz con gandules. And for dessert, there’s tembleque, the gingerbread cookies you and the kids decorated, and of course, the lemon bars. 

Christmas Day goes even better than Christmas Eve. All of the presents got for you to give to his family were a hit, but not without a sly comment from Frankie.

“You know… She did have some help,” he says with a smirk and a wink.

That earned him a smack on the arm.

Eventually, the evening is winding down. The kids are sitting under the tree playing with their toys and the adults are scattered around the house. For once, there’s no one paying attention to you two.

“Come with me,” Frankie says, getting off the couch and grabbing his coat.

“Where are we going?” 

“For a walk,” he says. 

You follow him to the front door, slipping on your shoes and coat. The two of you walk side by side on the sidewalk. It’s silent between you two but it’s a comfortable silence. But as you stop underneath a streetlamp, Frankie says, “I have something for you.”

“Frankie! You didn’t have to.”

“No, I really did. And I wanted to. It’s not just a Christmas present but it’s also a thank you for doing this for me… And also an apology for being a shitty neighbor,” he chuckles.

He pulls out a box from his coat pocket and hands it to you. You lift the lid to reveal a gold chain with a pendant, and a lemon stamped into the metal.

“Aw, Frankie… This is so sweet.”

“Look at the back,” he says softly.

You flip over the pendant and engraved on the back is your street name, Magnolia Drive. You look back at Frankie and his face is nervous, as if he’s waiting for your approval. His brow furrowed, his face dimly lit under the streetlamp, and his curls peeking out under his stupid fucking hat. All you can do at that moment is kiss him. He’s shocked for a second but it doesn’t take long for him to melt into your touch and wrap his arms around you. 

He pulls away for a second to ask, “I take it you like it?”

“I love it, Frankie,” you nod, leaning in for a kiss again.

And for a moment you two stay there, holding each other under the streetlamp on Christmas night. 

“I didn’t get you a present,” you admit, resting your head against his chest.

“You already did. You did me a huge favor. It’s a lot to deal with my family.”

“I didn't just deal with them. I liked being with them.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, like you said before, they’re nothing like you.”

“Shut up,” he says, pulling you in for another kiss. 

After a while he says, “We should probably get back.”

You nod and follow him back to Ria’s house where you bid your goodbyes to everyone and head back to Rosa’s for the night. She turns in early and now it’s just you and Frankie alone again. But being alone with him feels different this time. Not only because you just kissed but also because you think… you have feelings for him. Maybe it’s the holiday spirit talking or how vulnerable he was last night, but you have to admit to yourself that Frankie Morales is not only a cute man but a man you misjudged this whole time. 

Once you’re back upstairs to Frankie’s room, you’re sitting side by side on his bed. The silence is back and you’re wondering if you shouldn’t have kissed him earlier. Maybe all you are to him is someone who did him a favor, someone who’s just his neighbor and nothing more. 

“I’m sorry about the kiss. I-”

“You’re sorry?”

“Well yeah, I-”

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long, cariño.”

“How long?”

“Soon after you moved in next door.” 

“Really? I thought you hated me.”

“No, I never did. I just liked pushing your buttons. You’re cute when you’re irritated.”

Your brain is short-circuiting, in disbelief at what he’s saying.

“Even when you were with Heather?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that why you were so jealous of Benny at your birthday party?”

“...Maybe,”

“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re jealous,” you say, leaning in for another kiss.

This time the kiss is needier, and more passionate, like you can’t get enough of each other’s touch, scent, and taste. His hands caress either side of your face as his body leans into you more, coaxing you to lie down on his bed. His mouth leaves yours, trailing along your jawline and down your neck. Your breath hitches as he nips at your skin, immediately licking the bruised skin afterward. He moves down lower, lips moving along your collarbone, until he’s completely kneeling on the floor in front of his bed. His hands hook around the waistband of your pants, sliding them off in one clean motion before going to remove your panties.

“Frankie?” you ask, resting on your elbows and looking down at him.

“Yeah?”

“What about like… your mom?”

“She sleeps like a rock,” he says bluntly, returning to what he was doing before. 

He pulls off your panties and spreads your legs, looking at how wet your cunt is already. 

“Mm, so wet for me, cariño,” he muses, his warm breath tickling your core.

Before you can respond, he licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you breathe out, eliciting a chuckle from him.

He goes back in for another, licking up and down your entrance slow, enough to drive you crazy. And then, he moves to your clit, tongue swirling around it as your back arches up off the bed. He hooks his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place as he gets to work, nose grinding against your clit while his tongue licks your cunt. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, his face taught against your cunt as you do so. 

Once you’re done, he rests his head against your inner thigh, admitting the mess he just made. The lower half of his face is soaked, his patchy facial hair glistening. He returns back to your cunt for one more lap of his tongue, just to taste you one more time before rising from the floor and taking off his clothes. You sit up and take off your sweater and your bra, tossing them on the floor and lying back down. You inch up a little higher on the bed to make room for him as he hovers over you. 

“I have a confession to make,” he says, looking down at you with a sly grin.

“Oh??”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you naked.”

“Uhh-”

“Your bathroom window faces mine.”

“...It does?”

“Mhm. Saw you drying off one day.”

“Oh yeah? And then what?”

He bends down and whispers in your ear, “Jerked off in the shower to the thought of you.”

Your whole body shudders.

“Touch me, Frankie, please,” you whine.

“Are you begging, cariño?”

“Fuck. Yes, I am,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he whispers in your ear, his hand caressing the outline of your breast before moving to your nipple. His other hand gathers some of your releases and strokes his cock, getting extra hard before sliding inside you, all while he plays with your nipple. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his length stretch your walls; feeling like you’re being split apart.

“You can take it,” he softly commands, bringing his face away from your ear and looking into your eyes again. He studies the expression on your face; the open mouth and the tears in the corners of your eyes, and his lips curve into a smirk. He draws his hips back and thrusts into you again, your cunt feeling completely full. Your soft moans are like music to his ears but he needs to hear more, not necessarily more sounds but a confession from you, too.

“Be honest, cariño. You’ve thought about fucking me too, haven’t you?”

It’s actually insane that this is the same sweet man who gave you the most thoughtful Christmas present earlier tonight. The same man who confessed to jerking off in the shower after seeing you naked.

“Y-yes…” you confess.

“What was that? Didn’t hear you,” he says as his hand to your other breast, taking your nipple in between his fingertips. 

“Fuck, Frankie yes, I’ve thought about it.”

“When?” he presses further, keeping the same pace with his thrusts.

“All the time. Even when you piss me off.”

“Knew it,” he teases, slamming his hips back into you. He rests his elbows on the other side of your head, face to face with you as he fucks you relentlessly.

“Frankie, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Let me feel it, cariño,” he says, studying your face again.

You close your eyes as you cum but that just won’t do for him. He wants you to look directly into the eyes of the man who made a mess of you.

“Look at me,” he softly commands.

You open your eyes, locking with his as you cum around his cock, feeling your walls flutter and pulsate in rhythmic patterns.

“Good girl,” he praises, thrusting into you one final time before coming, too. He paints your insides with his cum before pulling out of you and lying down on the bed. You roll over and situate yourself in the crook of his neck, resting your hand on his chest.

“You’re amazing,” he says, taking the his hat off his head and propping it on the bed post before wrapping his arm around you. There’s his sweet side again.

“I can’t believe you saw me naked,” you tease, still sort of in disbelief.

“Two times now. It’s a Christmas miracle,” he jokes.

You have to agree with him. He feels you twitch against him and he whispers, “Goodnight. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper back, letting sleep consume you.

New Year’s Eve

You’re spending New Year’s Eve at a bar with some of Frankie’s friends from high school. Ever since the night you got together, you’ve been leaning into the girlfriend role more, feeling like it’s not a charade anymore. Frankie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he welcomes it. This is what the two of you wanted all along, even if both of you didn’t know it.

You’re watching the ball drop in New York City on the TV at the bar with Frankie’s arm snaked around your waist. As the clock strikes midnight, you kiss, feeling like you’re starting the year off right for once.

“Look at you,” you whisper against his lips, “Ending the year in a fake relationship and starting the new year in a real one.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” he whispers back. 

Tag list: @wannab-urs @noxturnalpascal @hiddenbabynyc @littlegrungegirlaf @hyzer34 @catchallfangirl @pamasaur @paleidiot @runningmom94 @butiknewyoudlinger @sydneyinacoma @yorksgirl @wilderwizard @hnt-escape @axshadows @fanficlover1414 @lavema @yazsos @tarot-freader @dundienominee @pedropascalfan221 @khindahra @janaispunk @tuquoquebrute @perotovar @clawdee @immarocketman @whoreofabuckethead @grogusmum @idungoofed @fluffygoffpanda @meveispunk @beefrobeefcal @magpiepillsjunior @pr0ximamidnight @elvinaa @survivingandenduring @lincolndjarin @missladym1981 @heavennumber2 @covetyou @anoverwhelmingdin @hellfire-state-of-mind @joels-shitty-puns @stevie75

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction

[mazeinthemiroh]

seo changbin boyfriend headcanons

genre: fluff

word count: 0.7k

warnings: none

requested?: yes

song rec: tomboy by g-idle

please like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

this soft boy, oh gosh here we go...

he makes my heart skip a beat so this gonna be fun

changbin. the man, the myth, the legend

he's an amazing guy, what can i say? respectful, loyal, genuine... god it's so hard not to fall in love with him

idk as a boyfriend he is just the sweetest guy you could ever ask for. he technically acts the same way with you if he was just besties. the main difference is, once he's your boyfriend he tones up the affection to 100%. no holding back anymore

this man is SO TOUCHY

physical affection is totally his thing. he finds himself just wanting to touch you or hold your hand or anything like that because he just needs that contact

he's not ashamed of any pda. he doesn't care who's watching: he's kissing and cuddling and squishing your cheeks no matter who is watching! he's cute like that

even if the other members were to make fun of him for being a massive softie with you, he literally couldn't care less

"you're just jealous that i'm in a happy relationship"

he's so petty lmaooo

btw i mentioned cuddling... yeah there's gonna be a lot of that

changbin works out a lot. he's got a lot of muscle on him, so his chest and arms proved to be a perfect pillow give me one chance changbin ONE CHANCE IM BEGGING so it only makes sense to snuggle into his perfect body and enjoy having his arms wrapped around you

he likes doing spontaneous things with you. it's always a fun time around him. you're always getting up to some sort of mischief

also loves spoiling you omg

he doesn't make a big deal out of it but damn he buys you so many quality gifts because apparently he can't help it??

will talk to you about anything. usually when he speaks to you it's very casual and general chat. he's very comfortable talking about anything with you. if you want to talk about anything important or personal, he's very attentive and provides you with any support you need

for him, he's a very open person, especially if he has his trust in you. there are not a lot of things he would keep from you. how he views it is: he wouldn't date you if he didn't trust you. and with that, he can know in his heart that he can be vulnerable with you if needed because the mutual love and trust is there

likes to spend his nights just relaxing and unwinding from his busy day at work. there are occasions, of course, when he will stay late at night in the studio or bring some work back to do at home. he tries to make time for you but there are some things he can't help. he appreciates how supportive you are of his career, either way. and he always makes sure how much he loves you for being so kind to him as his partner

above all, he wants to be a source of comfort to you. and he sure does a good job at it

dates with him would include:

gym dates - i mean this goes without saying but if you MUST be told again, changbin loves/lives in the gym. he would love for you to share that part of his life, even if you aren't particularly keen on working out. he also proves to be a very good personal trainer so there's a plus! working to improve himself with you makes going to the gym even more of a joy for him. he would appreciate you joining him a lot and finds it all the more fun to workout with you

food date - a bit of a contradiction, i know. changbin not only loves food but also likes to taste and try different types of food. he loves going to different places in the city to try street food or other snacks that he wouldn't usually get by himself. makes for a fun experience with you <3

late night walks - changbin loves the outside but especially at nightime. he also thinks it's romantic going out for a walk in the dark with the city lights lighting the way. it's a good opportunity to have deeper talks with you as well as check out any nightlife

overall, he's the sweetest guy you'll ever meet

#changbin #seo changbin #stray kids #skz #kpop #skz imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #skz headcanons #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader

[wangxianficrecs]

Rewind 2023 - Follower Recs Part II

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023

Before the year ends, we want to share more recs of your favourite stories that were published this year. All these recs were submitted to WangxianFicRecs anonymously and most of them without further comments, so you will have to check them out yourself~

Rewind 2023 - Follower Recs Part I

~*~

After I Met You

by Amandyalmonds

M, WIP, 78k, Wangxian

Summary: "They’re not going to go through with the marriage proposal though, right?” Jiang Cheng reasoned. “You’re ours. And surely the Lan sect wouldn’t want a huli jing, let alone the famed Hanguang-jun.” “Exactly," Wei Wuxian said with a grin. "The Lans are too stuck up to know how to handle someone like me, and they won’t risk forcing their precious Hanguang-jun into such a marriage.” Or, after the end of the war, Wei Wuxian is offered as the last known huli jing to marry into the Lan royal family. The only problem is that Wei Wuxian has never met the man he's marrying, and he's not sure he'll survive in a palace with over three-thousand rules.

~*~

it rains, it pours

by jublis

Not rated, 130k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian dashes across the distance that separates him from his husband, like a child running through the dark as if that would lessen its existence. He grabs Lan Zhan’s hand and holds the arm close to his side, to a soft breath of laughter. “Come on, Hanguang-jun,” he half-whispers, because the atmosphere seems to call for it. “Light the way for us.” (Wei Wuxian has scarcely known fear to be gentle — and still. It's as if there’s something murmuring down the hallway, behind the closed door, next to the window in this howling storm: I’m here, I’m here, I’ve always been here…) Or, as Wei Wuxian starts to look into the reasons behind the unsettling notion that something is not quite right, something else starts to look back.

~*~

Take My Pieces, Make Me Whole

by InTheGreySpaces (@inthegreyspaces)

M, WIP, 203k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji reunites with Wei Wuxian in Yiling only to discover that their union in Xuanwu's Cave nearly three years ago had an outcome he never could have anticipated. Instead of leaving the Burial Mounds that evening, Lan Wangji stays, and his actions set in motion a series of events that will save Wei Wuxian and the Wens. But first, he must battle Wei Wuxian's own lack of self-worth, the clutching hold the resentful dead are determined to keep on their champion, the greed of Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangyao's machinations, his own Uncle's unbending disapproval, and the hatred of the Cultivation World. However, friends and allies are found in the least likeliest of places, and eventually, there is a light at the end of the single-log bridge.

~*~

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos

by dvasva (@dvasva)

M, WIP, 127k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: “Of all the rotten luck I could have!" Outside, in between the gentle embrace of an imposing misty mountain and the caress of soft wind, stood the Cloud Recesses. It wasn’t a section that Wei Wuxian had recognized from his time in the sect, but the motifs of clouds and cranes in the buildings, the impeccable feng shui and carefully manicured paths, and the utter silence as the sect members slept peacefully, all burned themselves into Wei Wuxian’s eyes. No wonder the curtains were so firmly nailed to the walls! Any bit of demonic energy escaping the room could call down a veritable army of righteous cultivators! What sort of person in their right mind would dare to summon a spirit into their own body using resentful energy in the Cloud Recesses of all places? What kind of person would scoff so rudely at the Lan Clans most important rule, ‘Do not fraternize with evil?’ After being dead for four years, Wei Wuxian wakes up in a body he doesn't really feel comfortable with, in a place that he's sure wants him dead, and married to a man who surely hates him.

~*~

A Hop, Skip, and a Jump

by Prince_Enby (@enbiart)

T, WIP, 47k, Wangxian & LSZ/OYZZ

Summary: Two years after the events of Guanyin Temple, the Junior Quartet unknowingly walk into an array during a night hunt, and walk out into the middle of a war. None of them are even slightly prepared to deal with the opportunity dropped into their laps - and yet, despite it all, Ouyang Zizhen's biggest concern is somehow still the fact that everyone thinks he and Lan Sizhui are married.

~*~

fans for hanguang-jun

by saltyfeathers

M, 21k, Wangxian

Summary: “What I mean,” Wei Wuxian repeats with as much gravitas as he can muster, “is that every single day in their marriage bed, the Yiling Laozu sp—spears open the most esteemed Hanguang-jun on his—his mmmmmmonster cock!!!” wei wuxian gets kidnapped by a team of belligerent bottoms.

~*~

not wx in the fic

ruin this on me

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

E, 2k, MXY/WWX/XY

Summary: Mo Xuanyu raises his head from Wei Wuxian’s shoulder to mouth at the exposed skin at his neck, leaving bruises and red stains from his lip balm. He forewent the white foundation today; it is more of a hassle in bed than an enhancement, and he carefully avoids the delicately painted huadian from smearing. Wei Wuxian exhales, not quite a moan yet, and Mo Xuanyu grins against his skin before biting down. The Yiling Laozu is a kind master, sweet to his heir and family, but he is not a gentle man. His breathing hitches at the sudden pain, an approval on its own. Or, Mo Xuanyu pays special attention to his sect leader and shixiong.

~*~

💕

the past drifts away with the waves

by thelastdboy (@thelastdboyy)

E, WIP, 28k, Wangxian

Summary: The next time Wei Wuxian became aware of his surroundings and was able to form semi-coherent thoughts, Wen Zhuliu had just finished tying weights to his feet. Both his arm and his back were still bleeding and he felt as if he had been flayed. “Should I make it quick?” Wen Zhuliu asked him, offering a small mercy. But Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Give me your worst,” he snarled, his teeth coated in blood from where he had bitten his tongue at some point. “I will come back to end you all,” he promised darkly. “Very well,” Wen Zhuliu merely said and drowned him. Or: Yu Ziyuan cuts off Wei Wuxian's hand to appease the Wens. He gets drowned in the lake behind Lotus Pier and resentful energy transforms him into a river spirit. After avenging his own death, he finds his way to Yiling.

~*~

this story plus the lovely podfic

if this one could be ransomed

by harborshore

T, 2k, Wangxian

[podfic] if this one could be ransomed

by jennisaisquoi (@jennisaisquoi79)

T, 10-20 Minutes, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji is too late to save A-Yuan. Sick with grief and pain, he throws himself back in time to try again. But he goes back too far.

~*~

a thousand lifetimes

by SapphyreLily (@sapphyrelily)

G, 2k, Wangxian

Summary: Immortal Sizhui doesn't always go looking for the reincarnations of his fathers, but they always find him, in the end.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

#wangxian fic rec #wangxianficrecs #rewind 2023 #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #fandom event #long post #The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #MDZS #Mo Dao Zu Shi #follower recs #follower rec

[wrishwrosh]

re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

#this post was very challenging to write bc i cannot spell the word bureaucracy to save my life. EVERY time i forget where the U goes #long post #asks #bureacracy. beaureaucracy. bereaucracy. fuck french

[ot3]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere: Poignant, Mind-Bending Sci-Fi Yuri at its Finest

I went and wrote a review for the Flower that Bloomed Nowhere covering the 5 categories Royal Road requires for it's advanced reviews: Overall, Story, Style, Character, and Grammar. I figured I would crosspost it here as a sort of companion piece to my Flower rec post. If you haven't read Flower, give this a once-over and see if it might interest you. If you have, please consider leaving your own review over on Royal Road to help give the story the glowing reputation it deserves.

This review contains no spoilers.

Overall:

Flower accomplishes what I believe is necessary for all great sci fi to accomplish; it provides a world that feels real and prescient enough for its political and philosophical questions to be meaningful and compelling, without just being a futuristic re-skin of contemporary conflicts. Additionally, it manages for its character-driven storytelling and its complex worldbuilding to compliment and reinforce each other. The character writing feels deeply informed and enriched by the story's political context, and the political context is woven in to the story in this matter rather than running parallel to the murder mystery. It's all inseparable.  Additionally, Flower wears its influences on its sleeve without sacrificing any of its unique identity. It skillfully pulls from its sources without being derivative of them, and truly synthesizes the ideas its working with into something new and bold. It is an unflinching work, that categorically refuses settling on any easy answers to its own questions.

Story:

Flower is a mystery story, and it is exacting and thorough about providing a breadcrumb trail for the more theory-minded red string Pepe Silvia types among its reader base. If you, like me, aren't much of a mystery buff and have no interest in solving the mystery yourself, there's still more than enough compelling stuff happening in the story outside of that context that you can enjoy letting Flower take you on its ride. To me, Flower is about getting to watch the complexities of Su and Ran's relationship unfold alongside the political and philosophical complexities of the world they live in. It weaves a compelling yarn about mortality, and what the consequences are of a desire to live without the corresponding means. Its ruminations on death run the gauntlet from brutally cavalier depictions of suicide to existential machinations that attempt to claw all of mankind away from the inevitability of an end.

Flower is slow. This may be a turnoff for some people, but the time it takes is clearly deliberate and does not feel wasted. The parts where I was least engrossed were the parts that were more bogged down in the murder details, but considering this is a murder mystery that sells itself as such, it would be insane of me to criticize it for including genre conventions I'm just not personally fond of. Fork spotted in kitchen, etc. Despite being slow, it is not poorly paced. New revelations about the characters, setting, and underlying mystery are drip-fed to the readership consistently enough that reading feels rewarding. You're not left with the impression that the narrative is detrimentally withholding information in order to artificially encourage continued readership.

Style:

We spend the vast majority of Flower on the receiving end of first-person narration from our protagonist Su. First person can be difficult to pull off, but Lurina nails it here. There's an intimacy and vulnerability to Su's narration as we see all of her worst traits on full display, with the truth of her actions and their motivation trickling in as we begin to peel back the layers of her character. But there's still room for deception, if not dishonesty, in Su's narrative. Very in line with the way Flower questions our ability to ever know another person. It reminds me a lot of how the same subject is explored in Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint which has similarly effective use of first person albeit in a strikingly different context.

This all to say that the style is perfectly fitted to what the narrative is trying to accomplish. Su's narration is suitably pessimistic, deeply prone to navel-gazing, and often judgemental. The biggest stylistic issue I tend to see with first person is when the more descriptive parts stop feeling like a character's own observation and analyses, really jarring you out of their headspace, but every bit of exposition we get throughout the course of the story is so painfully Su. It's a delight to read.

Character:

Oh man is the character stuff here fantastic. Su is Harry DuBois for girls who realized they were lesbians in middle school. No, but seriously Flower is definitely up there alongside Disco Elysium in terms of portrayal of mental illness that have personally resonated with me. On top of Su herself being a peak insane woman in fiction, Ran, Su's best friend by circumstance and right hand man in their personal quest is a fascinating character in her own right. Slowly peeling back the layers of their relationship and beginning to understand what the dynamic between the two actually is has been my favorite part of reading Flower and it's definitely some of my favorite character writing of all time. Flower's supporting cast is an absolute blast as well. Lurina does a great job of writing characters who I almost definitely would not want to hang out with but nonetheless love reading about. The characters don't fall into stale archetypes and instead have enough little details and quirks that make them feel plenty human.

Grammar:

The finicky technical bits of writing rank really low on what I care about in a story unless there's a particularly egregious amount of errors. Flower has some typos and grammatical issues, but with a work of this size that updates regularly and doesn't have the privilege of professional editing services, I think it'd be pretty unrealistic and unfair to expect it to be typo free. None of it has ever impeded my ability to understand or enjoy what's happening in the text, which is really the only standard I hold self-published/ongoing works to in this regard. 

TL;DR:

Flower is good and you should read it if you like insane women or when characters take a break in the middle of someone trying to murder them so they can have an impromptu political debate.

#the flower that bloomed nowhere #flower

[spreta-invidia]

Do you have a daemyra fic rec list please? I’m desperately searching but they don’t live up to what you write I love your writing so much !! ❤️

Thank you so much!!! <3 That means so much to me! Thank you for reading and loving my writing.

I didn't have an actual Daemyra rec list, but I put a short one together today! There's so much fic in this fandom that I love, and so much that I have in my tbr queue also!

One Shots (canon or canon AU)

Those Happy Golden Years by SeveDeChampagne: This is actually a series of one shots set between episodes 7 and 9 that I think are just lovely. This is also maybe my favorite subgenre of Daemyra fic?

girls have their secrets by ginvael: This fits the subgenre above also! This is more focused on Rhaenyra, Baela, and Rhaena, and their relationships as the girls grow up. I really love ginvael's writing.

watching, always from the outskirts by vintagemocha: This is Alicent POV, but hear me out- it's great. The outsider POV works so well here to show Daemyra through the years.

burn for me by luthien_under_bough: Dark young queen Rhaenyra demands a special declaration of fealty from Daemon. Luthien's writing is so, so good basically always, and in this piece what got me was her use of detail. Also. Hot.

Multi-chapter (canon or canon AU)

Lavender Haze by madgirlslovesong: I think this is my favorite take on the idea of a disinherited Rhaenyra. This fic pairs really wonderful emotion with really interesting plotting/politics, and some excellent Daemyra content.

Bigger than the Whole Sky by CharlieLeau: Would you like your heart to be broken and broken and then mended? Then this is the fic for you! Instead of bearing her three sons during the ten year separation, in this fic Rhaenyra suffers a series of miscarriages, so the Rhaenyra Daemon reunites with is very different than in canon.

WIPs (canon or canon AU)

Threads of Black, Threads of Green by madgirlslovesong: I described this the other day as "if HotD was actually like ASOIAF" which is probably the highest compliment I can give. The hunt for the white hart inspires Rhaenyra to step up her political game. I caught up with this over two nights and I was so tired at work. Worth it.

Battlefields by calenlily: I'm a sucker for warrior Rhaenyra, but especially in the way calenlily does it here: very much a young woman in a new arena, with missteps and moments of glory both. Super excited for the rest of this. (Calenlily is another writer whose work I enjoy very much!)

Maternal Love by ginvael: An Aemma fix-it! I LOVE time travel fix-its, and this is one of my favs. There are some excellent moments between Aemma and Rhaenyra here.

Speaking of time travel fix-its... I think these two are abandoned, but I love what's there: Beyond the Black Door and five seconds later.

Modern AUs

Petrichor by sweetestsorrows: Really great Rhaenyra POV that takes the reader on a seven-year roller coaster through her relationship with Daemon.

entropy by firecollide (WIP): One of the first modern AUs I read in this fandom! In addition to being super fun, this fic also reignited my love for Arctic Monkeys.

This is definitely incomplete as lists go. I am perpetually behind on things and sort of a sloppy bookmarker (and also not a great comment leaver, though I am trying so hard to get better at that- it means SO much to me when people leave comments that it's almost talked me out of the incessant "oh god why does anyone care what you have to say, ugh you're probably sounding like an idiot" that goes through my head often/always tbh). There are gaps in here I should fill, and some fics are not available right now that any list of my favs feels naked without (High Hopes, I'm looking at you).

Let me know if you love any of these in particular! <3

#hotd fic #daemyra #fic rec

[c-53]

You can get signal from tölva on steam for $5 rn. And I wanna rec it so bad bit. Its... Such a specific kind of game.

It comes with a lorebook thats basically a novel and has some of the most creative world building I’ve ever seen. A robot uprising where humanity is merely told to stay put. Violently planted on earth, while their creations abandon them to explore the universe. They have simply grown beyond their creators, humans need to step aside. It never comes up in game outside of being an explanation for why every character is a robot, and the general social hierarchy of psuedo hiveminds, and how you fit into it as a sort of infiltrator.

If you aren’t proactive with hunting for the story, you can play the entire game without any idea whats happening. You spend 80% of it just walking in dead silence, just exploring the world around you, and alert for the next ambush. Its a mystery that haunts you. Its about lost history and ghosts and haunted houses.

Its a beautiful experience and I’m so sad I can’t play it for the first time again.

#dataspeaks #media recs

[presidentbungus]

in a similar vein to my one post it seems generally agreed that the mercs all have individual rooms on any given base--again, for convenience, but I really think if Mann Co was any little bit the cost-cutting quality-of-life-defying motherfuckers they claim they are they'd just install a big barracks in the middle of the base with 5 bunk-beds. sometimes the mercs'll go to some stripped historic factory or whatever with a bunch of rooms and amenities and like, yeah, sure (but you'd better believe it's coming unfurnished besides some bedframes and tables because "we gave you that extra floor space for only a 55% pay cut you figure out what to do with it) but more often than not they're shipped off to dinky, actively decaying little portables constructed by mann co--and mann co frankly doesn't care about any of this 'living conditions' bullshit. everybody’s in the barracks, and everybody gets to fall asleep in the general vicinity of 8 other men who also snore like fucking lawnmowers (seriously, standinf outside’s like listening to an extremely localized earthquake), and soldier gets to narrowly avoid death every single morning as he warms up his body and voice by banging pots and pans together and singing America The Beautiful at the top of his lungs.

obviously this solution doesn’t last for long—frankly, everybody’s going even more fucking insane than they were already going, and when you’re already at a breaking point that’s obviously pretty bad. so mercs test the waters, start moving out; the two couches in the rec room are heavily contested pieces of territory, since they’re sort of like beds and more importantly are not surrounded by other beds, and are the cause of many battles and compromises; Scout figures out the bean-bag he uses to read comics is both portable and comfortable, so he sleeps on that even though every morning he wakes up and his spine feels like it’s twisted into a ball the size of a fist; Sniper has his van, and Engie has his workshop, and Medic has the lab (and also Engie’s workshop but shhh), obviously; and every base without fail gets a secret door installed somewhere overnight by private, extremely expensive contractors, and to be frank all the moving’s kind of wearing a huge hole in Spy’s pockets, though he’d rather go bankrupt than sleep around other men. they figure out their own solutions. by the end all that’s left in the barracks is Demo and Soldier (since Demo crashes hard enough to sleep through a nuke and Soldier’d probably sleep in a hole in the ground if someone pointed to it and said this is military housing)—and Heavy, too, and seven of his guns, because the empty, decomposing bunk beds are at least a little better than the gory condition of the armory. literally everyone’s backs are suffering, but they make it work. more or less. sometimes you walk into the kitchen and turn on the light and hear a crash through the doorway and turn around and sniper’s sitting there in the dark of the hallway, laying on a sleeping bag in a clump of tangled limbs, only visible by his shades faintly gleaming brown-orange in the fluorescents streaming through the doorway, like cat’s eyes. did he sleep with his sunglasses on? he’s staring at you and he almost looks offended. scout’s in the hallway somewhere and he’s talking in his sleep loud enough you can hear it through the wall. you should probably really get back to bed. this should not feel like a horror game

#bungus headcanons #one of my most incomprehensible rambles yet #tf2 #i won’t tag everyone LOL. sorry

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Married at First Sight

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

Length: 146,883 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, Comedy, Human AU, Slow Burn

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by Aracloptia

*Minor Spoilers* I've gotta stop being surprised when crack sounding ideas turn out to be really good! I really didn't know if this could pull off the concept. Aziraphale and Crowley are on a tv show where couples are pared up and married before ever meeting. "But Aziraphale would never do that!", I thought before reading this. Yet I very easily accepted his excuse here. He's lonely and fussy, might as well see what this is all about. His excuse boils down to, "I want companionship what about it." This story is not afraid to bring out the bastard in Aziraphale here! He's a total asshole to be frank, he's convinced he knows best and is very holier than thou. It takes Crowley to not only point that out to him, but stay and challenge him on it. I love the little ways they break down each other's walls. How in any other context they would have immediately brushed each other off, but their forced companionship allows them to break their old habits. It's sort of a story of faking it until they make it, but really it's more about stepping outside their comfort zone until they can allow themselves to love and be loved. All the side characters are super fun, I think Newt and Anathema were used very well! Their conflicts are very natural and ties back to the canon well. If you're looking for a fun time, something full of banter, and all the wonderful tension of enemies to lovers, this is perfect. Safe for public, and would be fine to take breaks with!

Read it here, fic by Aracloptia

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #Married at First Sight #Aracloptia #human au #fake relationship #books au #enemies to lovers #wedding #no spice #extra long #comedy #taking breaks #safe in public #slow burn #bookseller au

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

update on asks, submissions, rules, state of the blog, etc

first of all, thank you everyone for the interest in the blog! it’s become significantly more than i expected, and since i’m just one person who works full time and is the process of moving i haven’t had the time to keep up with the influx of attention. i’ve spent the last few days figuring out how to run the blog moving forward to best manage a good balance between it and my actual life

submissions: submissions will re-open wednesday july 26th at 8pm EST. this is where you can send me images or videos you take irl or see outside of tumblr to identify. this includes submitting your own car for me to guess. i won’t give my thoughts or anything in submissions, it’ll be just like the other identification posts. please keep any sort of identification request like this to submissions. asks exclusively requesting identifications, dms, and original posts made for the purpose of tagging me will be ignored and/or deleted after submissions are re-opened. submissions will remain open indefinitely just to see how it goes, but will close if/when they become overwhelming, just to keep up with them all

asks: asks will also re-open wednesday july 26th at 8pm EST, and stay open until thursday july 27th 5pm EST. going forward it’ll essentially open on the evenings before my days off and close the evening of the day off so i have time to give my actual attention to asks instead of rushing responses in between customers at work. i work retail so this won’t be consistent from week to week, but i will announce when asks are opening at least a day or two before they do. asks will be for asking me for opinions, recommendations, questions or suggestions for the blog, etc. identification requests without also adding something should go into submissions

tags: i have been going back through old asks to retroactively tag requests for recommendations as #car recs. going forward any recommendations given will go under that tag as well. i’m working on a permanent pinned post that will have more information on the tagging system going forward

pinned: i’m working on a kind of landing page post. this will have an FAQ, information about the tagging system and links for navigating it, rules for asks and submissions, and most of the information in this update. i may also put the date and time for when asks will be re-opened in that post and keep it updated. if you have any requests for things to put in the FAQ, or any other questions, feel free to reply to this post. it will stay pinned until the big boy pinned post goes up

tagging me in posts: i will continue to try to get to every pre-existing post i’m tagged in, but make no promises about getting to all of them, especially if they have a bunch of cars in them. this goes for submissions and asks as well - as fun as it is to play i spy and try to get them all, i only have so much time. if i can i’ll give it a shot, but the multiple posts and asks i’ve gotten of full yards or highways full of cars will definitely take longer to get to, if i get to them at all. as much as i’d like to do them for the sake of the bit lol

thanks for bearing with me over the last few days!

#not a car id #update

[fanfic-recs-01]

Spideypool Fics

This is just a list of all the Peter Parker/Wade Wilson fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Updated 4/16/24

I Think I Missed a Step ('Cause I'm Fallin' For You) by mokuyoubi

~Peter thinks Wade knows his secret identity, and Wade is really confused by the hot coed who keeps popping up and hanging out with him.~

The Health Benefits and Damages of Being an Avenger by Mushka

~"Tash? You done cleaning up the helpless puppies down there?"

“They’re monkeys. And yes. Status report.”

“I’m up here with Spider-man. He’s bleeding out despite my best efforts. ETA?”~

Join the Club by HashtagLEH 

~Homeless and mute after everything Peter has been through, he somehow makes friends with Deadpool, as Spiderman. And then he meets the Avengers, as Peter.

(Peter is underage here but there’s no romance)~

Peter Parker's Home for the Wayward Villain by BeanieBaby

~A really long redemption story.~

are you sure you wanna' love me? by scarlett_starlett

~Spider-Man is everything Peter Parker wishes he could be—witty, confident, loud, sassy, and sexy…

This is no more apparent to him than when Deadpool walks past him without a second glance the first time they meet. It sucks, considering Peter Parker has an embarrassing crush on the ex-merc.~

Mission by Woodlie

~SHIELD has found where Deadpool lives. Normally, this information would just be added to his file, but a civilian named Peter Parker also lives in the apartment with him.~

Petey and Wade discuss the proper way to go about vigilantism (and maybe they fall in love too) by isaDanCurtisproduction

~Deadpool totally crashes Peter's lunch date with some left-overs Aunt May had inundated him with, and Peter is like "Woah, isn't that that murder guy?" and then it kind of spirals from there. And maybe when Peter first saw Deadpool, decked out with fuzzy panda gloves and enough guns to take down a small monarchy, he should have high-tailed it the other way, but where's the fun in that, right?

Right???~

buddy you're a boy make a big noise by orphan_account

~Wade’s hanging by one leg from the firescape outside Peter’s seventh floor apartment, katanas sheathed on his back and a gun on each thigh - but he’s frozen like a deer in the headlights, as if Peter poses some sort of threat, standing like an idiot at the open window in sweatpants and no shirt, only a flashlight and a thin smattering of chest hair to defend himself.~

Oblivious In Love by Atsvie

~Peter and Wade are sort of a thing. Everyone knows. Except for Peter.~

Off The Record by crookedswingset

~Peter Parker is a corporate lackey whose sole job is to root out problem executives who waste Oscorp’s money and time. Wade Wilson is a reserve Avenger on the hunt for a prize even Iron Man couldn’t nail down: the real identity of everyone’s favorite webhead.

Too bad most people think Spider-Man is Harry Osborn.~

The 6 Months Peter Parker was Dead by Spongeekat

~Peter is forced to fake his own death to save the lives of his friends and family. Now living as his secret identity of Spider-Man, he must cope with the pain he's causing his adoptive fathers Tony and Steve, as well as Wade- the boyfriend he left behind- while adjusting to the lonely life of a full-time hero. It's not easy when his decision keeps finding ways to haunt him, and it seems his identity is even harder to hide from the Avengers when he's 'dead.'~

Petey and Wade discuss the proper way to go about vigilantism (and maybe they fall in love too) by isaDanCurtisproduction

~Deadpool totally crashes Peter's lunch date with some left-overs Aunt May had inundated him with, and Peter is like "Woah, isn't that that murder guy?" and then it kind of spirals from there. And maybe when Peter first saw Deadpool, decked out with fuzzy panda gloves and enough guns to take down a small monarchy, he should have high-tailed it the other way, but where's the fun in that, right?~

Rich in Love and Life by Adsdragonlover   *New

~Peter keeps running into Wade out of costume, and, remarkably, Wade's actually interested in him. In Peter Parker. And he keeps paying for Peter's things.~

Imperfect Strangers by oprime    *New

~Wade Wilson rents out his extra room to the kid that takes all those action shots of Spider-man. Peter something or other. He seems like he'll be an okay roommate and maybe an in with Spidey Cakes but why does everything about him seem so familiar?~

I dunno how to act or if I should be leavin' by sadieb798    *New

~A sudden weight clamps down on Peter’s right shoulder - a hand, he realizes when the fingers give his arm a brief squeeze - that immediately makes him tense. Why didn’t my spider-sense go off? Peter wonders as he turns to look -And comes face-to-face with Deadpool.~

Hot damn, and you too by Winterchildboobear   *New

~"How do you know my name?" Wade asked, keeping his voice light as he cocked the gun. The boys body tensed at the click of the metal, sitting up he stared at Wade sombrely, his gaze slightly unfocused.~

Shelter From Cold by torchestogether   *New

~The snowstorm was too severe for anyone to sleep out on the streets. Peter knew it was a bad idea, but even Deadpool deserved to have someone looking out for him.~

Deadpool's Dating? What the... by Ninjababe   *New

~Deadpool's dating squeaky clean Peter Parker. SHIELD wants to keep an eye on that.~

Time After Time by glaciya    *New

~“I can’t let you kill him.” Peter watches as Deadpool goes almost unnaturally still, the only movement coming from when he tilts his head at Peter. The odd tingling his spidey-sense has been making all night gets even worse as Peter tries not to shudder under the heavy weight of Deadpool’s gaze.~

Propositions by stuckybarnes  *New

~Wade finally convinces a very tired Peter to go to New York Comic-Con with him and enter a Deadpool and Spider-Man cosplay contest, sure they'll win. Obviously. It doesn't go exactly as expected, and Peter is not thrilled.~

hey you (who the fuck are you) by fancastical     *New

~For some reason, Peter thinks Deadpool knows his secret identity so he thinks its not a big deal to chat with the merc in his civilian identity whenever he bumps into him in various locations. Wade, meanwhile, is confused on why a cute but grouchy nerd keeps talking to him like they know each other but hey, its New York! Eccentrics are everywhere and this guy is really cute and doesn’t seem to mind hanging out with him!~

i know your secret by jilliancares    *New

~“I’m your new neighbor,” Wade forged on, oblivious to Peter’s state of shock, and he stuck out a scarred hand. Peter gripped it, feeling numb, and gave it a shake. Did Wade realize who he was? No, clearly not. He was acting way too normally. Wade was one for dramatics.~

The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) by Spongeekat    *New

~Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.~

took no time with the fall by cherryvanilla    *New

~When the Avengers had briefed him on Deadpool, they played up the Kills People for Money and Has No Real Morals angle and left out the Is Pretty Damn Funny and Charming in a Weird, Terrifying Sort of Way part.~

I'll Tell No Lies by doctorestranged    *New

~When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.~

#spideypool #fic recs #peter parker x wade wilson

[mojowitchcraft]

Fave WIP Round-Up [Part 2]

Posted a list of my fave WIPs last night and realized I missed some, so here's Part 2 of my fave WIPs! Find the rest of my WIP Recs here

is your light on? by @toburnup Rated E | Chapters: 17/20 | Words: 196k

"Tell me a secret." Steve says and Eddie shakes his head. "Why would I do that?" "I'll tell you one." Eddie looks intrigued, smirks in his direction. "A secret for a secret? Okay." He looks up. "You go first." (Steve always noticed Eddie. He's been there on the peripheral, easy enough to ignore. Until he's standing right in front of him, unavoidable. And then they collide over, and over, and over)

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In by kiaramgrey Rated E | Chapters: 8/? | Words: 43k

When Steve finds himself alone and without friends, following his breakup with Nancy, he decides what he needs is a distraction. Maybe some new friends who don't remind him of the bullshit life he gave up. When he literally runs into Eddie Munson, school drug dealer and self proclaimed freak, an idea begins to form. Who better to show him what life outside popularity can be like, than someone who doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks? And Eddie? Well, Eddie is just bracing for impact.

Reboot by @plutosrose [Now Complete] Rated E | Chapters: 10/10 | Words: 38k

In 2012, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson film a scene in the teen drama Normal Stuff that launches a popular ship on ao3. By early 2013, they aren't speaking anymore. In 2024, Robin calls Steve with an offer to reprise his role as Andy Hartley in a reboot of their old show, with one important update--his character gets together with Eddie's.

Lesson/Plan by @2btheanswertothequestion Rated M | Chapters: 3/5 | Words: 7k

Eddie huffs. "I'm already 20 fucking years old. I don't want to wait any longer. I want to experience all the shit everyone else already has now." "Everyone hasn't-" "Steve, the 15-year-olds currently in this house have seen more action than I have." "All right, okay, I hear you. We'll solve it for you." "How." "Well," Steve's tongue darts out to wet his lips, "if you just want to get it over with, then... I could kiss you?" Eddie's never been kissed, so Steve offers to teach him. And then he teaches him some more, and some more, and some more.

Sleight of Hand by @flieslikeamoron Rated E | Chapters: 17/19 | Words: 125k

Steve needs a weed dealer. He gets a bit more than that. (This is an AU set a couple months after the Snow Ball in season 2.)

PTA Shouldn't Stand for Pretty Tight Ass by @humanityinahandbag & Invader_Sam | Rated M | Chapters: 14/? | Words 51k

Steve Harrington - ex local legend and fearsome bully, now single father of two - returns to Hawkins after the world spit him out. With a messy life to sort through, all he wanted was settle down and get his kids through seventh grade without any surprises. Cue Mr. Eddie Munson, ex victim of one Steve Harrington, now Hawkins Middle School's favorite music teacher. Or: What happens when your former high school bully raises two absolute nerds, joins the PTA, helps run the bake sale, makes the best cupcakes in Indiana, and may or may not be having a bisexual crisis.

Some Cupids Kill With Dice by @hawkinsheroes Rated M | Chapters: 14/? | Words: 109k

Steve Harrington doesn't have time to date. In fact, between working multiple part-time jobs and raising two rambunctious and poorly-behaved preteens, he doesn't have time for much of anything. And it's fine. He's fine. He's having an absolutely awesome time slinging ice cream, sorting DVDs, and dodging questions from his friends and family about his love life. That is, of course, until the twins come to him with a simple request: go to Parents Night and sign them up for Mr. Munson's Dungeons and Dragons club. Or, the one where Steve is a tired and overworked DILF who may or may not be smitten with his kids' seventh grade English teacher. Featuring: busted old Hondas, milkshakes as an intricate mating ritual, twelve year-old wingmen, and the worst flirting you've ever seen in your life.

breathe out (so i can breathe you in) by @bttmbunk Rated E | Chapters: 11/12 | Words: 91k

“You thinking of getting it for yourself?” The man continues, eyebrows raised, and that’s when Steve realises he’s just been staring, practically drooling over this stranger who's decided to strike up a conversation about a guitar. A part of him wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “Oh, uh, no, actually.” He says, “It’s for my daughter.” Something indecipherable flickers across the man’s face, there and gone again in an instant, “How sweet.” “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” he admits, a little sheepish, “I’m not a musician, so…” he shrugs, “I have no way of knowing if this is a good guitar or not.” There’s a hint of amusement in the man’s eyes as his mouth tilts into a more crooked grin, “Well, lucky for you, I can help.” In one fluid motion, the man drops himself into a sweeping, dramatic bow. The suddenness of it startles a laugh out of Steve. “Eddie Munson, guitarist, musician extraordinaire - at your service.” His energy is infectious - Steve finds that he’s grinning, “Uh, Steve Harrington. Basketball coach, dad,” He tries to think of another good descriptor, but comes up short, “Totally at a loss, here.”

Trouble Looks Good On You by @steddielations Rated E | Chapters: 3/5 | Words: 35k

It happens like a fever dream. The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that. But then, it happens again. Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.

for this gift, I do feel blessed @wheatisstillwheat [Now Complete] Rated E | Chapters: 19/19 | Words: 96k

Steve was supposed to be in Berlin with his best friend Robin, not wandering around looking for a coffee shop, not speaking a lick of German. Steve definitely wasn't supposed to take the only open seat next to a beautiful, mysterious (sexy), and slightly pissed stranger at said coffee shop who cannot believe Steve wasn't angling for an autograph from him, which Steve definitely isn't, because Steve has no idea who he is...yet. (OR Rock Star AU - in which Eddie Munson is a famous grunge/alt/metal band frontman and Steve is as clueless as we'd all expect. hi-jinx and love ensue.)

Edited May 7 to update chapter & word counts Edited May 26 to note completed fics Edited Aug 3 to update chapter & word counts

#WIP RECS #STEDDIE FIC RECS #STEDDIE FIC REC #STEDDIE WIP #STRANGER THINGS #STRANGER THINGS FIC REC #STEVE HARRINGTON #EDDIE MUNSON #STEDDIE #PUBLICLY OUTING MYSELF AS A SIMP FOR ALL THESE WRITERS #mojowitchcraft wip recs

[moonlitkilljoy]

Lo and behold! i’ve finally finished making it, the promised list of Pacific Rim fic recs for anon :-) everyone thank @ihavenomoralsss for proofreading this for me!

There’s a good chance most people who've read any amount of newmann fanfiction will have read the first two on this list, as they’re found on the first and fifth pages of the newmann ship tag on ao3 when its sorted by most kudos descending– however i’ve included them anyway because they’re there for a very good reason (which is that they’re FANTASTIC). also, i've grouped all of the "pov outsider" fics together at the end of this post, as they pretty much make up one third of the list– which feels like it warrants it's own section. feel free to dm me or send me an ask to let me know of your thoughts about any of these (or just pacific rim in general!!)! without further ado, may i present to thou, 10 fantastic newmann fics

It’s All in the Hands of a Lazy Projector by patster223

“Hermann is cursed as a child so that he may never remember anyone he meets. Theoretically, this should make falling in love impossible, but then he meets (and meets and meets and meets) Newton Geiszler.”

~10k words, 1 chapter, rated T; exactly what the summary says, it’s an au in which hermann is cursed to forget everyone he meets, it centers around newt and hermanns interactions and how they manage to grow close despite this

if i had to choose a single favorite pacific rim fanfic it’d probably have to be this one. it’s gorgeously written and tackles some themes that hit very close to home for me, personally. i’ve struggled with memory loss for a very long time now, and this fic manages to encapsulate that experience through the lens of magical-realism in a way i’ve never seen captured in any context. i left a comment to that effect (under a pseudonym because i rarely log into ao3 on my phone) and the author’s response is something that still makes me emotional pretty much every time i look at it, “I wanted to imagine a world where memory still mattered, even if it wasn’t remembered. And now, years later, I think that it does. You and I and Hermann hold memory in our bodies and our minds, even if what’s being held isn’t an exact picture or description, but rather an emotion or a question. Memory still has to matter to those with memory loss, even if we end up experiencing it differently.” so, this is not only a recommendation for quality, but also from a very personal place— it’s a fic that addresses the concept of memory loss through a lens of comfort and hope, which it is so rarely seen through, and does it phenomenally. if anyone looking at this post were to read one fic and only one fic from this list i’d want it to be this one. it also characterizes newt and hermann very well and i love their dynamic in it, it’s PHENOMENAL

Letters From Berlin by spenshi

“Newton keeps in touch with his family when he's shipped off to the Shatterdome. Jacob and Illia send care packages to the K-Science Lab.”

~12k words, 1 chapter, rated T; once more, exactly what the summary says– newt sends letters to his family and they send him packages. eventually hermann starts sending them letters (+ emails) as well :]

i read this one most recently out of all the others so it’s the freshest in my memory :-) it’s extremely homely and heartwarming!! additionally, it includes some really fun and sweet interactions between newt’s family and hermann. OH! and, of course, some very fun characterization of newt’s family

Plausible Possibility by cissues / @cacaesthesia

“Newt and Hermann experience some odd post-drift effects.”

~1k words, 1 chapter, rated G; a little exploration of ghost-drift

short and sweet! absolutely fucking adorable too. plus, this contains some headcanons/a discussion of sexuality that i was delighted to find very relatable (as an aromantic person)

Red Patent by highseize

“It's been months since the ocean closed up. Nothing will take this from her now.”

~2k words, 1 chapter, rated G; a snapshot of what mako’s life looks like after the events of the movie ^^

a rare non-hermann-and-newt-centered fic on this list!! this one actually centers around mako :D it’s adorable and i love mako with my entire heart, especially this depiction of her

fool by kaijusalad

“Newton is going to die thinking no-one left on this Earth loves him. (Fool.) He can't have that.”

~6k words, 1 chapter, rated T; hermann believes that seeking out hannibal chau and drifting with a kaiju brain once more will kill newt, and acts accordingly

i LOVE the way this fic is formatted and written– the word choice and unique use of italics and parentheses is incredible and works so well. it describes every action and scene so gorgeously and it just. man. here’s a small except devoid of context that i think showcases this perfectly: “His words are hollow, anyway. They hang in the air, lies filled with helium, a new year's resolution, an 'I'll quit smoking'. (God is real in belief; maybe if he believes in them hard enough they'll come true, and isn't that something for a man who works in numbers to think?)”

One day from lonely by Raehimura

“Hermann is standing outside Newton Geiszler’s private quarters, bony ankles poking out from under too-short standard-issue sweatpants, his hair a wreck and his red-ringed eye still sore, with a lifetime of stolen memories in his head. What if Newt isn’t there? What if he’s sleeping? Or, worse, what if he is waiting on the other side of the door with his own stolen memories fresh on his mind? Above all he remembers, sudden and frighteningly clear: This is not what they do.”

~2.5k words, 1 chapter, rated G; another very interesting exploration of newt and hermann post-drift

i disagree a little bit with some of the characterization in this fic (particular, newt thinking hermann hates him. i think newt very well knows that hermann’s very fond of him) but it’s a great read nonetheless! the best word to describe it would probably be “cozy”

This is a Totally Normal Thing for Friends to Do by SolarMorrigan / @solarmorrigan

“Hermann and Newt don't talk about it (until they do)”

~21k words, 4 chapters, rated T; a fake dating au in which hermann’s dad nags him about not having found a partner yet and hermann panics, telling him that he actually does have a partner just to get him to asking about it, but it backfires when lars expresses interest in meeting him. newt offers to play the part of partner, hijinks and relationship progression ensue. this fic also has an explicit sequel, if that’s your kind of thing

THIS FIC IS SO FUCKING GOOD. there were multiple times where i reacted out loud to things that happened in the fic– most notably a series of “holy fucking shit”s while eating lunch with some friends. it’s adorable and includes some transmasc newt content :3 this fic also includes hermann snapping and standing up to his shithead dad and its GREAT. one of my absolute favorite pacrim fics ever, i can’t recommend it enough

POV OUTSIDER FICS:

HR Complaints by IDoNotBitMyThumbAtYou / @idonotbitemythumbatyou

“Manny Flores has been with the PPDC for nearly a decade by the time he’s transferred to Hong Kong. He just wants to do his job. And he’s good at it. But when he receives the 15th complaint from one Dr. Hermann Gottlieb in only three days, he finds his patience running thin. He wonders which of the two scientists would be more of a nightmare to cohabitate a working space with: Dr. Gottlieb - sender of endless petty complaints, or Dr. Geiszler, their hapless subject. (...)”

~3k words, 1 chapter, unrated (probably G or T); hermann and newt’s relationship through the eyes of someone reading the (non-serious) complaints that hermann sends to hr

i spent three uninterrupted hours looking for this fic to link it here and it was ABSOLUTELY worth it. this fic is so fun, and it uses my favorite trope of all time!! i’m an absolute sucker for “pov outsider” type fics <3 the characterization is phenomenal, i love the oc from whose pov we view the story, and some of the lines made me actually audibly laugh. definitely another one of my absolute favorites. i think i sent a screenshot of the first sentence from the following lines to virtually everyone i know: “After another few weeks of complaints (“Dr. Geiszler asked me if I have any tattoos.” “Dr. Geiszler made an offensive tweet alluding to my personal style. I have attached a link.” “Dr. Geiszler has named his invention ‘the milking machine.’”) And continued insistence that no disciplinary action be taken, Manny was starting to suspect that the latter was closer to the truth: these were the missives of someone deeply, inconveniently in love. Christ, Manny was half in love with the guy himself at this point.” this fic rocks, do yourself a solid and please read it

On The Outside by combeferrer

“Petra Gottlieb, Hermann's mother, watches the first PPDC press conference after the world is saved and notices her son, particularly his relationship with his fellow scientist.”

~1k words, 1 chapter, rated G; for the third and final time, exactly what the description says! newt and hermanns relationship through the eyes of hermann’s mother, who watches a press conference with her son– who she hasn’t really interacted with lately– in it

ANOTHER GREAT FIC!! I love this characterization of newt and hermann’s relationship, and i find the premise and extremely enticing in and of itself so i won’t be saying anything more here <3

Disconnect, Connect Again by cypress_tree / @cypress-tree

“Raising Newt Geiszler has never been easy. Seeing him fall in love can be harder. The development of Newt and Hermann's relationship, from Jacob Geiszler's point-of-view.”

~13.5k words, 4 chapters, rated T; newt and hermann’s relationship through the eyes of newt’s father, over the course of 12 years

LOVE LOVE LOVE this author’s take on newt’s family. it works so well and is very enjoyable to read about. i wish i could articulate how much and why exactly i love this fic in a better manner, but i can’t quite find the right word’s ^^; i’m just going to leave it at “i love it dearly and i adore it’s depiction/interpretation of newt and hermann’s history (and present + future!)”

thank you for reading!! have a lovely day/night ^^ <3

#benny beeps #fic recs #pacific rim #pacrim #newt geiszler #hermann gottlieb #newmann #newton geiszler #kaiju bros #this is my first time making a post like this so PLEASE let me know if the way i've formatted this has rendered it unreadable

[jennagrinsoverml]

do you know any good adrino fics?

So as lovesquare stan and monoshipper, I’m able to acknowledge that adrino is absolutely amazing and would be my ship of choice if not for the love square. (Seriously, how is lukadrien so popular when adrino is right there???) But sadly, I only read platonic adrino. (Okay, I wrote this when I first started compiling this ask, but I have recently started so I may do a less platonic rec list later.)

However, the amazing @kasienda has put together two wonderful adrino rec lists:

Adrino Rec List 1

Adrino Rec List 2

I do have lots of platonic adrino recs though! I...may have gotten a little carried away with this one...oops? Oh well, enjoy!

Off the Mark by @buggachat​

Ever since Nino’s (frankly embarrassing) akumatization into Rocketear, Chat Noir’s behavior had taken a strange and sudden turn in the presence of Carapace, and Nino could only think of one possible explanation:

Chat Noir hated him.

Somehow, Adrien didn’t seem to agree.

One-shot. As you all may have realized by now, I’m an absolute sucker for misunderstandings, and I’ve been desperate for good fic dealing with the aftermath of Rocketear since it came out. And this is just SPECTACULAR! Nino doesn’t understand why Adrien’s so bothered, but of course it’s clear to us as readers, and it’s finally resolved so beautifully omg I love this fic!!!

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir by @kasienda​

After Ladybug admits to Chat Noir that she told someone her identity, she insists that he do the same. He wants it to be her. She insists it has to be anyone else. He suggests they use the snake. She finds this to be a reasonable compromise.

After many heartfelt five minute conversations that Ladybug doesn't remember, she decides he should keep the snake. That way he can always confide in her if he needs to. He also realizes it means he can talk to anyone… for five minutes... on repeat.

Multi-chapter. This is also a love square fic, but it’s amazing to see Adrien get to confide in Nino and get the support he so desperately needs. An Nino isn’t just some minor character in this, we get focus on him and his relationships too! 

such small things by @guardiankarenterrier​

It starts with such small things.

It starts with things Nino does without thinking about it, because they’re just the sort of thing you do for friends, and he’s never had to think about them before.  Nino hasn’t had that many friends himself, at least not outside of their class, but the ones he does have are good friends- he doesn’t need more than what he has.

Adrien needs more than what he has, though.  Adrien needs friends like Nino needs music.

Two-shot. I have so many feelings about this one. It starts off solid and then only gets better from there! There’s just so much love and friendship and care and LOVE in this fic!! It’s beautiful.

team is a four letter word by @ladyofthenoodle

Alya didn’t want to come between Ladybug and Chat Noir. But she didn’t want to stop being Rena Rouge either. And if Chat Noir didn’t want to talk to her, then she’d need to find a different way to prove all three of them could be a team.

Her plan unintentionally brings a few secrets to light, which leads to even more secrets coming to light, which leads to… well, Alya is sure it’ll all work out eventually.

Multi-chapter. I can’t not rec this one. This fic focuses on the entire core four, and the adrino relationship is no exception to that. I love all of the little bits of information and the exploration of their dynamic here. The way Adrien knows Nino so well but keeps parts of himself from his friend. The growth and development as the fic progresses. Highly recommend.

Shellter Chat by @bridgetinerabbit​

A peek inside Adrien's school bag gives Nino some very unexpected insight as to what makes his good friend tick, but leaves him in a very delicate position. He never expected to strike a deal with the Kwami of Destruction, but now he and Plagg are working together to relieve some of Adrien's (and Chat Noir's) burdens for his own good. But being Adrien's guardian angel isn't as easy as it seems; other secret identities start falling apart, and there's no telling where the falling dominoes will stop.

Multi-chapter.  I loved this so freaking much. I don’t even know where to start. Nino and Alya are such good friends to Adrien! Seriously, this is such beautiful friendship fic. I need to reread it.

A Miraculous Reveal: Rocketear & Meddlesome Friends by @kasienda​

Nino has been watching the Rocketear footage on loop, and one thing doesn't make sense to him. Why hadn't Chat Noir fought back? (Platonic Adrino, hurt/comfort).

Two-shot within a collection of one-shots (description taken from first part). If, like me, you absolutely loved the angst of Rocketear and were so disappointed that canon didn’t follow up on it at all to give us a resolution, you need this in your life. Go read it now!

Alya is NOT Disloyal! by @peppermint-shamrock​

Alya loves to flirt with her boyfriend when he's suited up as Carapace. Chat Noir, for some reason, is upset by this.

One-shot. This is a DJWifi fic that I’m including because Adrien is just such a good friend to Nino, like he cares so much and I love that.

I will take it / It can't go wrong. by @officialratprince​

Be loved by his friends, or love himself, or earn his father's love. Adrien's at a point where he's pretty sure he can only have one of those three things, but he's doing his best to juggle all three of them.

They aren't always compatible. He's doing his best, though.

Series. Summary taken from the first fic. This gets heavy, but the adrino friendship really shines here as Nino supports Adrien in the aftermath of Gabriel’s abuse.

when the dust clears, there is only us by blight_light

Alya figured out that Marinette was Ladybug after she knocked out a bank robber and defused a hostage situation using nothing but a ping pong ball and a bandana. Nino figured out that Adrien was Chat Noir when he rolled under a table and Chat Noir rolled out. A glass table.

A collection where Alya and Nino are helping their superhero BFFs

One-shot. This fic is an amazing mix of hilarious and heartfelt and it just fills my heart with so much joy!!

the naming of cats by @guardiankarenterrier​

"Dude, you know once we beat Hawkmoth you can go by whatever you want, right?" Nino finally offers, not entirely sure if it's the right thing to say.  He can't keep saying nothing, though, because he's not gonna let his friend think he's being ignored.  He never wants him to think that.  "Like, you're a hero of Paris, man. You wanna go ahead and change, just, like, your whole name to Chat Noir, pretty sure they'll let you.  Pretty sure they can't stop you, honestly."

Plagg's quiet little rumble takes on a note of approval.

One-shot. This is so beautiful and heartbreaking and Nino’s such a good friend and excuse me please I need to go have a little cry. I love them so much.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #adrino #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #platonic adrino #ml fic recs #ml fanfic #friendship #jennarecsml

[taihua]

Do you have any funny FengQing fic recommendations? I noticed you may have been away from Ao3 so I understand if you may not but in case you do, I'd love to hear/check them out!😁

Hi anon! I haven't been on Ao3 as much lately, but I do have a few recs for you!

Thin Walls Work Both Ways by delurianne - This one is technically PeiFengQing so it may not be exactly what you're looking for, but in that sort of Pei Ming way where he, uh, lubricates the relationship because they'd never get together without outside intervention? Anyway, Delru probably writes the funniest Feng Xin outside of MXTX herself. So many good dialogue exchanges and this is one of those fics that kept me up until 3 a.m. going "just one more chapter..."

i ain't the worst that you've seen by ruilian - The one where FengQing are competitors in the mattress business. The premise is inherently funny and FengQing are sniping at each other for the whole fic <3

Hot Mean Guy by jagaimocchi - from the Bad Boy Mu Qing and Nerd Feng Xin prompt of a Fengqing week event. FX is down bad, knows a lot about computers, and is sort of an asshole. The end always makes me giggle :3

spooky scary spiders send shivers down your spine by iconmyriad - Feng Xin needs help with the spider in his room. Based on that one video from when XKZ found a spider in his room during Eternal Faith shooting but with added FengQing bickering.

All these authors have solid profiles, so you'll be able to find more good fics if you check out their accounts!

#anon #fengqing #fengqing recs