Sweet Tooth - Tumblr Posts
I love Anakin, and I love pumpkin spice season! Too adorably fluffy not to share.
going with ani to the cafè for pumpkin spice latte only for him to be super nervous since we are so cool and he's some random engineering nerd ☝️🤓
‘Fall In Love With Me’
main masterlist Word count: little over 3k
pairing: modern!Anakin skywalker x fem!reader
a/n: you sending this request in as soon as i mentioned wanting to write fall fics is iconic of you and i love you for it 💋
“come on y/n, this is the only good thing about college! skipping without any repercussions” Honey continued to beg as you walked across campus.
“that’s easy to say when you're skipping a language class you’re already fluent in” you protest as she clings to your arm, pleading like a child.
“you don’t even care about French class, you just wanna ogle your little crush” she retorts before tugging on your arm as she comes to a stop forcing you to stop with her.
“okay that’s only half true, i like French class” you hardly believe your own lie as it tumbles out of your mouth. judging by Honey’s deadpanned expression she doesn’t believe it either.
“you were complaining just yesterday how the Teacher refuses to speak in any other language than French and you had no clue what was going on.” if only you didn’t vent to her about everything maybe then she wouldn’t be able to call you out on your bullshit.
“you’re gonna make me late” you sigh, slumping forward solemnly. she rolls her eyes not buying the act for a second.
“good, if you’re going to be late then it just makes even more sense for you to skip with me.” you let out a groan, gently pulling your arm out of her hold before starting to walk again. “you could at least talk to the guy if you’re gonna keep going just to look at him.”
“he’s too smart for me, i mean he’s a mechanical engineering major for gods sake” did he tell you that himself? no, you and Honey just did a little snooping through instagram after you got his full name and found out for yourselves.
“i have a friend who dated an engineering major and she told me they are not as smart as they think they are.” right but he was, he had all A’s it was a known fact around campus. Anakin Skywalker the college’s golden boy.
academic wise anyway, he didn’t socialize with anyone. you had guessed it was because he was much too focused on keeping his grades as good as they were, he had to if he wanted to keep his full ride scholarship… was it considered stalking if you got this information on a public platform?
“yea well Anakin’s different Honey” you can feel the look she’s giving you and you hate it. she jogs up in front of you now, forcing you to look her in the eyes.
“fine don’t skip but you have to talk to him, you’ve got the confidence and social skills to charm a snake y/n stop selling yourself short” you both stare at each other, a silent challenge that you always lose.
“alright!” you huff defeated and she cheers, throwing her arms up in victory before doing a celebratory dance.
“have fun talking to the boy of your dreams” she teases before spinning on her heel to walk in the opposite direction as you.
“have fun skipping spanish” you snort and she shouts back a quick ‘i will’ as you continue walking towards the building.
your professor was the type of teacher to close the door as soon as class began. ’if you want to waste my time by being late, don't bother coming at all’ was the first thing she’d said at the beginning of the semester, it was the only sentence she’d said in english.
which is exactly why you speed walk past her right as she’s starting to head to the door, keeping your head low when you see the annoyed look on her face as you do. internally counting your lucky stars that you somehow managed to make it before she’d closed it.
Anakin was always one of the first people to arrive in class so it was no surprise he was already there when you get to take a proper look at your surroundings. he was sitting in his usual spot; last row, second to last seat from the aisle.
you take a deep breath mustering all the courage you have as you walk down the aisle past your usual spot and straight to one of the empty seats next to him. he stiffens, hands freezing mid type on his laptop before he forces himself to relax and continue like normal.
you spare a glance at his laptop screen, wondering if it was related to the class. maybe you had missed an entrance ticket or something. you’re met with a shit ton of equations that makes you want to do a double take, unable to even process what you’d just seen.
the sound of your professor starting the lesson pulls your attention before you can. not that you could even understand what she said, all of it going in one ear and out the other. still you pretend to listen, wanting to give it a little time before you possibly ruin this man’s whole mood.
you pretty much dissociate, resting your hand on your palm without a thought in your mind. it’s about thirty minutes later when everyone who didn’t already have their laptops open are pulling them out of their bags that you snap out of it, following their lead you take yours out before turning to Anakin.
kind of a perfect way to start a conversation if you think about it. “sorry, but do you know what we’re supposed to be doing?” you tilt your head slightly watching as it takes a second for it to click in his mind that you’re speaking to him.
“we have to go onto canvas and answer the newest discussion post and then we have to comment on two other people’s answers all in French” he says after clearing his throat, his voice a soft rumble that makes your heart flutter.
you smile warmly at him, a whispered “thank you“ rolling off of your tongue before you turn back to your laptop. you’re about to copy and paste the question into google translate when you realize you could use this as another excuse to talk to him. “don’t suppose you’ve got any clue what this is asking us?”
his attention is on you again, eyes flicker over your face with uncertainty before he looks at your screen “comment prépares-tu la journée?” he reads it out loud in an accent that rivals the professors “it’s basically a formal way of asking how you prepare for the day”
you nod thinking of your answer only to remember a second later you’d have to respond in French. you bite your lip fighting back the urge to ask another question, afraid that you may start to annoy him. you tap on the table lightly locked in an internal debate, and right when you’re about to cave and go back to your trusty friend google Anakin speaks up again.
“do you need help forming your answer in French?” you can’t help but laugh as you turn to him, a shy smile growing on your face.
“is it that obvious i’m struggling?” you joke at your own misery and he rubs the back of his neck, nervously chuckling.
”no, no i wouldn’t say that…” he trails off before finishing with “well maybe a little bit” which makes you snort and cover your mouth to make sure you don’t laugh too loudly.
“help would be much appreciated, thank you” he smiles, wiping his palms on his jeans before clearing his throat again.
“it’s no problem i already finished my work anyway, i was working on homework for another class” he says while closing his laptop “i’m Anakin by the way” he extends his hand and you're quick to shake it. his palms are clammy, his grip gentle yet firm.
he was definitely nervous, even more than you were which somehow helped fuel you with more confidence. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you” you greet back, releasing his hand and turning your laptop screen more towards him.
“it’s.. uh nice to meet you too” it’s almost funny how awkward he is, you’d expected the college golden boy to be more.. well suave. it was endearing though, and you wish you’d made the effort to talk to him sooner.
you tell Anakin your normal routine before leaving for the day and he translates it for you, at first you were the one typing it but when he saw you failing to spell out the words correctly he offered to just do that as well.
of course you agreed, sliding your laptop more towards him. he reaches forward immediately retyping what he’d told you, and you get a front row seat to watch his mind work. so casual and effortlessly translating each thing you told him onto the discussion post. you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t attractive.
thanks to Anakin’s help you’re able to get the discussion post done and comment on two other people’s posts in under 10 minutes, leaving you with nothing to do as the professor waits for everyone to finish before continuing the lesson.
“so do you usually finish all your work early and work on homework for other classes?” you ask wanting to spark conversation again before he gets the chance to reopen his laptop.
“yeah, French is kind of my first language- my mom had me speak both French and english growing up” he answers, shifting in his chair nervously. uncomfortable from the attention you were giving him. “so this is sort of.. my easy pass class, i just took it for the credits”
“i wanted this to be my easy class, and then the first day she spoke almost purely in French and i knew i was fucked- it’s a miracle i’m passing” that miracle was your usual seatmate who would always give you the answers.
“not to be rude but uh.. how are you passing?” you can tell he didn’t want to come off too blunt but there wasn’t really another way to put it that wasn’t beating around the bush.
“lots of google translate and help from peers” he laughs at how proudly you say that, and you can’t help but smile enjoying the sound of it.
“right, that makes a lot of sense” you raise your brow at that unable to resist the urge to mess with him.
“a lot of sense is crazy wording” you act offended and he instantly starts to panic, backtracking his statement while attempting to apologize. you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you making him freeze when he realizes you weren’t actually upset.
he doesn’t respond even as you apologize, simply shaking his head with a faint smile. he relaxes in his seat, a look on his face like he wanted to tease back but was still unsure.
once you’ve calmed down and chosen to ignore the looks you were getting from the people around you there’s a brief silence until your professor speaks up, calling everyone’s attention. all of the discussion posts must have been turned in as she now continues the lesson.
it’s not until the end of class that you and Anakin speak again, you turning to him as he packs his stuff away. “hey, we should hang out sometime” you suggest, rather bold for someone who was afraid to talk to him a little over an hour ago.
he whips his head towards you, completely caught off guard. “i- i…” he stutters, his brain trying desperately to catch up with the situation.
you wince worried you misread him, maybe you had actually offended him with your joke or perhaps he had no intentions or desire to talk with you after today.
when he sees you physically pull back he forces an answer out of himself in an almost panic. “no! well i mean yeah- i’d like that..” he squeezes his eyes shut cringing inwardly.
“you’re cute” you giggle, and he reddens. eyes snapping open as he tries to catch his breath, you’re too much for him. like taking a sip of coffee that has way too much sugar and cream in it.
“cute?” he repeats practically breathless, he swallows hard. looking down to his bag for a distraction, busying himself with zipping it closed.
“there’s a cafe i like to go to with my friend that we could go to together?” you offer while pulling your phone out of your pocket. readying it for him to put his number in as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
he hesitates for a moment before taking your phone; typing in his name and number, eyes flicking up to you every once in a while like he expected you to change your mind and tell him to stop.
“i’d love too” he finally responds, handing your phone back with his number officially saved into your contacts. you have to hold in a giddy squeal, doing your best to play it cool.
“great it’s a date!” you cheer singsongy, putting your phone back in your pocket. Anakin looks like he may pass out, every time he thinks you can’t surprise him more you do. “i’ll text you the details later tonight”
his mouth opens and closes, every possible response dying on his tongue. you give him the time he needs, brows knitted together in understanding.
he fakes a cough, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “okay, i look forward to it” he says voice cracking slightly which he tries to play off with another fake cough, turning away from you and heading out of the classroom in a hurry.
as soon as he’s out of sight you let out the squeal you’d been holding in, jumping up and down before excitedly running out of the classroom to go find and tell Honey about what happened.
you wait just outside of campus. rocking on your feet as the cold autumn breeze rushes past you making your nose cold, honestly you were far too happy to care.
i’d been two days since your interaction with Anakin and today was the day you’d both agreed to meet up after classes finished. the wait was agonizing but worth it, especially when you see Anakin heading towards you.
he had on a flannel overtop a gray shirt, hair tussled from the wind. palms sweaty which he tried to keep under control, alternating between wiping them on his jeans and trying to fix his hair.
he hasn’t noticed you yet, mumbling something to himself as he walked. you contemplate whether or not to say something, afraid you may startle him if you do but thankfully he finally looks up from the pavement eyes locking with yours. he stiffens mouth snapping shut before standing tall as he tries to look relaxed.
“y/n hey..” it was awkward for sure and you had to bite back a giggle not wanting to make him second guess himself.
“hey, you ready to go? it’s not too far a walk from here” you point behind you in the opposite direction from which he came. he nods, robotically coming to your side as you begin walking.
there’s a awkward silence between you both, Anakin wanting to talk to you but unsure where to start. “sooo…you like coffee?”
you laugh, unable to hold it back this time with how strained his question came out. “i do, it’s a college student's saving grace don’t you think” you half joke, after all there have been many times coffee has actually saved you from passing out and turning in a late assignment.
he smiles, relaxing with your easy going nature. “oh yeah, coffee the holy grail for all college students” he jokes back for the first time and you beam. “you said you go to this cafe with your friend?”
“yep, me and Honey go all the time. they’ve got the best coffee and baked goods. it’s also the perfect environment to do homework or study” you both round the corner of the sidewalk, walking a little ways down to the crosswalk.
“oh that reminds me i’ve been meaning to ask, what’s your major?” well if he was asking that then he had yet to see your instagram account since it was in your bio. good because you’re pretty sure there’s a photo of you from middle school still up on your page.
“i’m an art history major” his brows raise slightly at that, making you tilt your head curiously. “what’d you think i majored in?” he shrugs unsure what to say.
“i don’t know… maybe psychology” this time your brows raise and he laughs. “you seem like the type” your nose wrinkles unsure how to take that but you ultimately decide to brush it off when it was clear he didn’t mean it in a bad way. “why art history?”
“i wanna become an art teacher, i need a bachelors degree for that to happen and art history seemed like the most interesting.” you both slow to a stop as you arrive at the cafe; Anakin steps in front of you, opening the door and holding it for you.
”thanks” you smile, walking in and heading to the usual table in front of the big storefront window that you and Honey sit at, placing your backpack onto the back of the chair. Anakin follows your lead doing the same with his bag before you both get into line.
thankfully it was short, most students preferred the other cafe directly across the street from campus. “ooo they finally have the fall flavors on the menu” you chirp excitedly upon seeing the newly chalked on pumpkin spice latte on the menu.
“are they any good?” your jaw drops dramatically, turning your head slowly towards him in full theatrics.
“you’ve never had a pumpkin spice latte before!?” he smiles, laughing awkwardly while shaking his head no. “oh we’re gonna fix that right now” you don’t even let him respond before stepping in front of him once the person in front of you leaves the line, ordering two pumpkin spice lattes and apple cider donuts for the both of you.
you don’t let him pay either, brushing him off with a “if i’m the one indoctrinating you into fall culture then it’s only right i pay” he only relents when you add “you can pay next time” a content smile on his face at the prospect there was even going to be a next time.
the cashier hands you a bag with the Donuts as well as two disposable cups with your lattes which you take to the table you saved. animatedly sliding the cup over to him as you pull out the donuts placing them on napkins in front of you both. “come on try it, i bet you’re gonna love it”
“a lot of confidence for someone who doesn’t even know if i like sweets” your face falls not having even thought about that, he laughs instantly making you flush when you realize he was messing with you.
still you smile back, it was about time he got you back. really you were just happy he was even comfortable enough to do it. “alright enough teasing, chop chop Frenchie”
“what am i a dog” he snorts, brows creasing together when he laughs this time. it was hardy and from his chest and gods did it make you warm to have been able to pull that out of him. “okay, okay i’m doing it” he says after you nudge him under the table with your foot.
you wait with anticipation as he brings the cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the warm nutty pumpkin flavored drink. you lean in as he takes his time, one hundred percent keeping a straight face on purpose. “..well?”
he pulls the cup away making a show of smacking his lips together to ‘savor’ the flavor. “Anakin!” you groan and he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense before grabbing the cup again.
“you’re right, it’s delicious” you cheer at the success, and he just watches with a smile. taking another sip of his drink before taking a big bite out of the donut you'd given him. his eyes widening as he tries it. “oh this is a dangerous combination”
“addicting isn’t it?” he nods enthusiastically, practically wolfing down the donut in a few seconds and almost completely chugging the latte. “oh my gosh” you laugh, before taking a sip of your own. “it’s not going anywhere”
“not technically true, you said it yourself these are seasonal items” he says and then chugs the rest of his drink. you may have actually just sent this man on a path of addiction.
“well we’ll just have to make it a tradition to come here every fall then. just for the coffee and donuts” he smiles brightly, more than satisfied with your words.
“is the rest of their menu this good year round?” you nod and he leans back in his chair, fiddling with the napkin his donut had been on. he licks the bottom of his lip in thought, bitting the inside of his cheek to hide his nerves before he finally speaks. “well maybe we should make it a year round tradition”
you lean on your palm, absolutely crushing harder on him with each passing second. “year round dates? kind of sounds like you're asking me out” he practically falls out of his chair, choking on whatever sugar the apple cider donuts had left at the back of his throat.
“i-i…i mean..” he stammers and you start to worry you may accidentally be the death of him. “i’d like that a lot.. you know only if you’re into it too-“ he cuts himself off mumbling a ‘she brought it up of course she is’ to himself which makes you giggle.
“why don’t you ask me?” you wait for his answer, not even trying to give him a break. he’s still barely recovered from your initial tease, cheeks a bright red that he’s trying desperately to push down.
it takes him a moment, before he finally works up the courage to speak again. “would you wanna go out with me?” he’s quiet and you briefly contemplate dragging it out more, just to watch him squirm but the poor boy looked tormented enough so you finally grant him reprieve.
“i’d love to” he smiles, relaxing before laughing at himself and you join in. the two of you lost in a fit of giggles, that’s how it is the rest of the date. the two of you getting to know each other better and tossing jokes around.
the more comfortable Anakin becomes, the less awkward and shy he seems to act. no longer as nervous as he was when you first spoke to him.
the cold weather outside is the perfect contrast to the warm cozy bubble around you both that the cafe helped provide. the beginning of many moments to come.
a/n: hope this okay!! im so used to writing Anakin as the more confident and collected one so this is a little different for me but it was so fun to write 😋😋
also how do we feel about Honey becoming a reoccurring character in my fics and oneshots? would you guys prefer me putting ‘y/f/n’ instead?
anyway hope you all enjoyed reading 🫶🏼🫶🏼 have a great day huns!! Xx<3
Needles Kane has gotta be my favorite Twisted Metal character, before Calypso-
A friend suggested I draw Sweet Tooth for today’s prompt, “tailor!” Which I definitely was gonna hop on cuz I love this guy so much; didn’t think the new show would be able to put him in a sympathetic life when he was last seen wanting to kill his daughter but...they did it!
@clownartmonth
'The Diplomat' reina suprema en la lista de los 10 mejores televisores de Netflix, 'The Night Agent' cae al número 4.
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'The Diplomat' reina suprema en la lista de los 10 mejores televisores de Netflix, 'The Night Agent' cae al número 4.
View On WordPress
Tommy Jepperd from Sweet Tooth (2021) projects the exact same vibes as Nam San from Badland Hunters (2024)
Big scary apocalypse dude who takes shit from no one and they will fight (kill) for who they are found of.
Something that isn't making any sense to me is how did THEY (the bad guys) find the cave???
They had Thacker's diary, so what? So did Birdie and it never got her anywhere.
Without the map, that map, there was no way they could have gotten even near the place.
So HOW??
Please correct me if I'm wrong, I really need to know.
This song is just beautiful. Can’t wait for Maya Hawke’s album!
WE LOVE WENDY AND BOBBY
@b1u3p0t4t0
Sweet Tooth
“I don’t want to be special. I want to be like everyone else.”
Here is a quick sketch of gus from sweet tooth :)
Sweet Tooth was such a good show <3
a steadfast heart will conquer
summary: you show up at frankie’s doorstep in the middle of the night after your boyfriend gets violent. he invites you in and lets you stay with him.
pairings: frankie morales x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of bruises
At midnight, you speak in fragments.
“I’m at your front door.”
He’s more asleep than awake. He doesn’t have the brain to question you.
“It’s raining.”
He can tell. He can hear it through the phone and from his bedroom window.
“Can you come let me in? Please?” You ask, and before he can say anything, you hang up. He stares at his phone, but figures there’s a girl at his front door, waiting to be let in.
He takes a second to unlock the door, in his groggy state, and sure enough, there you are, in all your midnight glory, on his front doorstep. It’s more romantic in movies, he thinks.
There’s nobody outside except for you. The streets are desolate, and the lamplight is obscured by the pouring rain. It thuds off of your car that’s parked in his driveway, and he knows it’ll bleed in through the crack in the door that doesn’t quite meet the frame.
He’ll help you fix it tomorrow.
But right now, you lean into him, slowly, and wrap your arms around his neck. You're wet, he notes. Wet and cold. He’s sure you're soaked down to your socks. Hair, jacket, shoes, all dripping onto his hardwood floor. You're still on the steps, so he pulls you in, but you refuse to untangle yourself from him. The wind sounds even harder now with the two of you inside.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he mutters, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He pulls back to look at your face, but you're buried deep in his chest. He wishes it was under different circumstances.
The pouring rain punctuates every silence. He can feel you shaking.
You don’t answer.
He lets you not answer.
There’s a storm brewing in his chest. He has a sickening premonition as to why you’re here. He tries to ignore it, but his gut instinct is always right.
He shuffles awkwardly to close the door, and it muffles the rain. He can hear you sniffling now.
“What happened?”
There is only moonlight streaming in from the window over the couch. You keep your face buried in his chest when he flicks the light on. It’s harsh and bright and he grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you back to look at him but you don't remove your face from his warm, dry chest.
So he waits.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again, softer, in your ear. You rub your forehead on his worn t-shirt, and his arms find their way around your shoulders.
You find the strength to look at him from somewhere deep inside you, eyes red and swollen, eyelashes dark with tears. You squint almost imperceptibly, adjusting to the light. You’ve never felt more safe than in his embrace. Your noses almost touch.
The last and only thing he wants to do is kiss you.
He notices the red mark right away.
On your temple. His eyes soften. You watch him look at you, almost like it’s the first time.
“He hit me,” you say, congested from the tears.
Like he doesn’t notice. Like he doesn’t feel anger shoot up into his chest, heat and warmth and fire in his fingertips, down the back of his calves and aching his face. His sickening premonition coming true. He can’t come up with a single reason as to why he would do this to you. It makes fury throb in his bones. He can see your boyfriend throwing the punch and it makes him want to vomit how enraged he is.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks sincerely.
“Want me to hurt him? I’ll hurt him, you know I will. I’ll hurt him so bad,” he trails off, jaw hard and teeth grinding. Nostrils flared and lip twitching.
“No.”
He watches you rest your head on his chest, the side that your good-for-nothing dick stick didn’t punch, and he’s so careful with you, soft hands and rigid muscles.
“I just...” you start, and he’s listening. He’s listening to every word.
“I didn’t want him to hurt me. And I didn’t want to hurt him. So I... left. I went and sat in the CVS parking lot,” you admit. He figures you needed someone to talk to. He wanted someone to listen to. He’s wide awake now. He still has fight in his blood, so he repurposes it. He holds you, securely. Strong and firm.
“I was gonna fight back... but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I really didn’t.” you say. He closes his eyes. He steadies his breathing. How could someone so sweet, so powerful, so kind, end up with the exact antithesis of all of those things?
“I know,” he reassures, “I know you didn’t.”
You sigh shakily into his chest. He’s there for you. He’s steadfast and unwavering. You could collapse into him and you trust he would catch you, help you up, dust you off, or in your case, dry you off. But you don’t. You stand strong with him, and you let herself be supported by him. You yourself whole still. Shaky, and faltering, but whole, all by yourself. With him there, you feel a little steadier, resolute in your decisions. He supports you, and you love him for it.
“Can I stay here?” you ask.
“Of course,” he replies.
His clothes don’t fit you, but you don’t mind and neither does he.
Your hair smells like roses and rain.
You take his bed; he takes the couch.
It’s hard for him to fall asleep there, but he doesn’t mind that, either.
It’s four AM when you wake him up for the second time this morning. The grogginess is stronger than before, it seems. You’re on your knees in front of the couch, face level with him, and he jerks back in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” you say, placing a hand on his chest. His bare chest. His shirt is somewhere, he doesn’t care where. It got hot, he recalls.
“Y’scared me,” he mumbles. Would this girl let him get any sleep?
“Come sleep with me. I feel bad,” you say.
“Woke me up ‘cause y’feel bad?” he asks, and you can tell he’s irritated, but tired more than anything. Sleep carries heavily through his voice.
“No,” you clarify, “I woke you up ‘cause I had a nightmare.”
Now he’s the one that feels bad.
He lets you lead him to his own bed, but he makes a pit stop on the way to use the bathroom. He finds you curled up under his covers, staring at the doorway, waiting for him.
He smiles and joins you. He sleeps on his back. You sleep on your stomach.
He has one pillow. you have one too.
You both listen to each other breathe.
You throw an arm over his stomach. He rubs his thumb over your hand.
It’s not storming anymore, but you can both feel the electricity in the sky.
The old, squeaky mattress creaks as you move, swapping your pillow for his shoulder. It’s not as bony as you thought it would be.
You only wake up when his alarm goes off on the nightstand beside you.
You groan, and realize you’re curled up with someone in a bed that’s not your own. Your face aches as you relive the events of last night.
He wakes up when you shift to turn off the alarm, taking his time to notice you.
“Hey,” you say, in his shirt.
“Morning,” he yawns, not in his shirt.
“Thank you,” you start, but he cuts you off.
“No no no, don’t do that, don’t make it...” he trails, sitting up in bed. He rubs the sleep from his eyes again. All things considered, he got some decent sleep. He thinks it might have something to do with the warm body that was pressed up against him all night.
“No, really,” you say. You sit criss-cross on your side of the bed, and he has to remind himself that it’s his own bed (singular), not your bed (plural), and the whole bed is his bed. But for now, he can say it’s your side of the bed. At least to himself.
“Thank you for being there for me.” you say finally. He smiles at you.
“Of course.” He whines as he yawns, and things are okay for now. The storm is over.
“You want breakfast?” He asks, getting up and stopping at his dresser to put on shorts. His boxers were fine last night, but now that the sun is shining through the window, it’s kind of weird. He pulls on a shirt too.
“I have taquitos,” he says walking into his kitchen, and you squint at him, hot on his tail.
“Taquitos for breakfast?” you ask skeptically, and he makes his way over to the freezer.
“Taquito time is all the time.” He clarifies, taking the cardboard box from underneath a tub of ice cream and a bag of frozen peas. He freezes, before he turns around to look at you.
“Do you, uh, want some ice for that?” He says, and it takes you a second to realize what he means.
You touch the bruise softly, applying light pressure and wincing when it hurts.
He notices and puts the box down on the counter, wrapping the peas thoroughly in paper towels before handing them to you.
You nod a thank you, and hop up on his counter, holding them to your face.
He notices his shirt on you again, and his shorts on you, and how domestic this would be if that mistake hadn’t laid his hands on you. Though he does admit, you probably wouldn’t have been here in the first place without that run in.
He thinks he’d rather never see you again rather than have you come to him hurt like that.
He moves over to you, and carefully moves your head away from the cabinets holding the dish ware so he can open it. There’s tension in the air. He plates the taquitos and you listen to the buzz of the microwave as they warm up.
Neither of you touch your respective phones while you eat your taquitos. There are decisions to be made that will have consequences. You glance at your phone, but look away each time. Your eyes never meet. You both focus on the plate of miniature crunchy tortillas made with fake corn, filled with beef that was probably artificial. Neither of you mind.
After breakfast, or what could be sufficed as breakfast, he watches you finally check your phone.
“seventeen missed calls,” you read, “and thirty something texts.”
“Wow.”
“Not as crazy as I expected,” you note.
“Wanna see if he left any batshit voicemails?” you ask, grinning. He’s less than excited. Your smile falters as you read the texts.
“What? What’d he say?” he asks, getting up from the table to read over your shoulder. You make no move to hide the texts from him and something like relief floods his veins for a split second.
“Nothing,” you clarify, “just that... he’s so sorry… how he’s such a terrible person, that he’ll never do it again.”
He stares at you.
You ignore the messages and lock your phone.
You look up at Frankie.
“So?” he asks.
“So?” you ask back. He clears his throat.
“What are you gonna tell him?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh, grabbing the empty plate and sliding past him. You turn on the faucet in the sink and wait for it to get hot.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says, but you don’t respond.
You add soap to a sponge and start washing the minimal dishes there: a bowl, a few spoons, your plate, a whisky glass.
He stands by you, grabbing a hand towel from the countertop and wiping the dishes down before putting them away.
“Why don’t you have a drying rack?” you ask, as he puts away the last of the glasses.
“I dunno,” he says, “I don’t have that many plates and forks and stuff, so I just dry it and put it away as I go.”
“Hmm,” you remark, and turn off the faucet. He hands you the dish towel and you wipe your hands dry before folding it and placing it on the counter. You look at him and sigh. The elephant in the room is demanding your attention.
“What do you think I should tell him?”
He stares at your bruise, and he feels the anger from last night bubble up in his throat again.
“That you’re gonna send me to beat him the fuck up.” He says, and you roll your eyes, staring at him endearingly.
“I’m not getting back together with him.” you say, and he feels his heart do some weird stuff in his chest.
“It’s over for us. I’m breaking up with him the next time I see him.” you say, a finality in your words that make him confident you would do as you said.
“Good.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to one side.
“Should I go see him today?” you ask.
“Do you want to?” he questions. You sigh and shake your head.
“You’re no help.”
“Hey! I’m so much help,” he defends, and you smile at him.
“Sure.”
“I can go with you if you want,” he says seriously. You stare at him.
“If you want,” you offer, and he nods his head.
“Okay.” you say.
He watches you grab your phone and your now dry clothes and make your way into his bathroom. He listens as you close the door and waits until he hears the water start running, accompanied by soft music.
He squeezes the bridge of his nose and takes a second to examine the thawing bag of peas on his kitchen table.
He smiles to himself as he makes out the lyrics of your song.
As he puts the bag back in his freezer, he runs a nervous hand through his hair and stares at your car in his driveway.
He wants nothing more than to bruise you up himself, his mouth on your skin, his hands on your hips.
But that thought is fleeting. He gets closer to the bathroom and can hear you singing clearly, and he takes a second to listen before he speaks.
“Hey, I’m gonna go take a quick look at your car, okay?”
The water turns off.
“What?”
“I’m—I’m gonna go look at your car!” he says loudly, “the leaky door!”
There’s quiet for a moment before you’re unlocking the door, in only a towel. His towel.
“Thank you!” you beam, and with one hand clutching the towel to your chest, you hand him your car keys.
“They were in my pocket. It’d be kinda hard to get in without them,” you joke.
“Yeah, ‘course.” He grins lopsidedly, keeping his eyes a respectable distance from your naked torso.
With a smile, you close the door in his face.
The music resumes, as does the water, and Frankie breathes.
It would be a miracle if he made it through the day without sending someone to the hospital.
I took a notion and made a cake! Now my night is 1000% more delicious. Couldn’t even wait long enough to take a pic before eating a piece
one of the baes <3 follow her 😌
donut know where to go from here
if you haven't watched sweet tooth yet I highly recommend, the last episode made me cry so much lmaooo, gus is such a sweetheart ❤
So anyway where's this show's fandom hiding
(screenshot version below)
