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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

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a/n: this is part 4 for the enemies to lovers lockwood x reader (out the window) that has been requested by quite a few people! thank you all for your continuing support i love you all <;3 @simrah1012 @wordsarelife @aislinrayne @helpmelmao @superpositvecloudshipper -> since you all were waiting so patiently :)

warnings: descriptions of blood and injury gn reader

full series collection: here

"Five jobs in the past week alone. I think you're starting to make all of these up to spend more time with me."

Lockwood grins at you from across the room. If not for the box of doughnuts he'd showed up with as bribery, you wouldn't have let him into your flat again. You're exhausted.

"I can promise you, they aren't being made up. Every case you help us with gets us more and more business. Which, speaking of, have you thought any more on my offer?"

You take a bite out of a particularly yummy-looking doughnut, taking a minute to reply. "And have this amount of work almost every day? Are you trying to kill me?" Another bite as he laughs. "But, yes, I've thought about it."

"And?" He looks eager, excited even.

"Let's see how this case goes today, then I'll make my final decision."

Despite not getting a straight answer, he grins. "You don't even know what it is you're being hired for."

"And?" You shrug. "Might as well. You'll only muck it up without me."

Leaning back against your kitchen counter, you watch Lockwood carefully. In the past few weeks, something about the dynamic between you two has changed wildly, though it's perhaps not the worst thing ever. Within a month alone, you've gone from hating his guts to being able to joke about with him, which is progress, but there's something else hidden beneath it all, a greater motive your soul is striving for.

It's easier to understand his mannerisms now, too, which makes working together a little easier.

Like, now, for example: he's tapping his fingers against the handle of the mug that has now been designated his, which is the only inclination of his anxiousness. It's not as strong as it would be if he were donning that big grin of his while shaking his foot with his legs crossed.

"So?" you say. "What's it this time?"

"Haunted school."

"Ooh, exciting. Haunted by who?"

Lockwood smiles. "A bunch of angry Catholic nuns."

"How many are we talking?"

"Well, the local kids - this is just out of London, by the way - can't seem to agree on a number, but we're thinking at least half a dozen. Some seem to be Type Ones, so easy enough to handle, but there might be a couple of Twos."

Nodding, you take a sip of tea. "Sounds like fun. George at the Archives?"

"He and Lucy," Lockwood says. "They'll meet us at the train, so, if you wouldn't mind coming back to Portland Row with me to get their gear, too, that would be great."

"Oh, so it was already assumed I'd be joining on this case?"

His smile only widens. "Would you really have turned it down?"

"No," you say with a grin.

You grab another doughnut, holding it between your teeth as you grab your duffle bag, and fasten your belt with your rapier and mix of salt bombs and magnesium flares around your waist. The entire time, you can feel Lockwood watching, but, strangely enough, it doesn't leave your skin prickling with unease. Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, you turn to him, taking a bite out of the new doughnut.

"Want one before we go?"

"I'd never turn a doughnut down."

The train is cool, and you believe the air conditioning deserves a raise. Outside, it's sweltering, and you were sweating by the time you reached Portland Row with Lockwood, never mind the station.

George, within minutes of sitting down, has his notebook and some newspaper clippings sprawled out on the table. Lucy sits beside him, setting things out in a way that makes it make a little more sense - at least to her - and sips on a milkshake you're both sharing.

"The nuns were murdered a hundred or so years ago," George starts. "They had been killed upon finishing the day teaching the schoolkids, but the killers were never identified. Brutal murders: some slashed at the throat, some stabbed, some were even -"

"We get the idea, George," Lockwood says. "What else do we know?"

He barely looks at his notes. "The school is relatively unchanged. Since the start of the problem, they've hung up a few iron and silver crucifixes and crosses, decked the place out with lavender. All the seats and tables have been replaced with iron ones, but the layout is essentially the same. The nuns were killed in the classroom, and that's where they've appeared, according to the locals. A few kids have been hospitalised or killed by ghost touch, along with one of the few teachers."

You frown, looking down at one of the newspaper clippings. "Says here that there were eight that died. That's a lot of Visitors to go up against."

Lockwood waves a hand nonchalantly. "We've dealt with worse, Haven't we, guys? The three of us once took down fourteen Wraiths."

"Kipps' team saved our asses, you mean," Lucy says, taking an angry sip of the milkshake. "Are we sure this isn't more than what we can handle?"

"A few of them sound to be Type Ones," George says, confirming what Lockwood said earlier. "My thinking is that the one in charge, Sister Something-or-Other, will definitely be a Type Two. She has the most reason to want revenge - it was her that was in charge, and it was her fellow nuns killed."

"This is why we've brought extra chains," Lockwood says, and you don't miss how his knee brushes against yours. "Plus a stockpile of spare salt bombs, and we have magnesium flares if we end up needing a last resort. I wouldn't have agreed to this case unless I knew we were capable."

You take the milkshake from Lucy, sipping from your straw. "I don't know... I mean, do we have any clue what the source could be? It's not like there will be anything left of them if it was a century ago."

"Could be an old floorboard left from back then," George suggests. "Or a Bible. That seems likely."

"I still don't feel good about this," Lucy says.

"We'll be fine," Lockwood insists. "Just a few harmless nuns."

Spoiler: it is not just a few harmless nuns.

Upon reaching the town, a crowd of locals rushes up to meet you and the members of Lockwood and Co, showing you the way to the school while recounting stories of what has happened so far. It's a lot of noise, and someone shouts in your ear at one point or another, but it takes only a short amount of time to reach the school.

It looks like the kind of Catholic school you'd see in the movies: almost like a church, made out of dark stone, a cross embedded in the large front door. A fence - this one modern and made from iron - surrounds the playground, which has been deserted for a short while.

A woman stands at the foot of the stairs leading to the school. She's maybe in her forties, dressed in a knee-length skirt and a pretty blouse, but the look on her face is enough to make you even more uneasy than you already were. Horror.

"Lockwood and Co!" she says brightly, but her voice trembles. "Thank you so much for coming."

Lockwood flashes her that ridiculous grin of his and, sure enough, she relaxes a little. "It's our pleasure, Mrs Garrett."

She tries for a grateful smile, but it looks more like a twitch. "The school has been closed for the past week since the last incident of ghost touch. No one has been inside lest the ghosts kill us all."

"That won't be happening, I assure you," Lockwood says. It's infuriating how confident he is. "We'll be rid of these ghosts in no time. For now, I suggest you all start making your way back home; curfew will be soon, and we work best when we're not worrying about your safety, too."

"Thank you, Mr Lockwood," Mrs Garrett says. She can't get off the steps quickly enough.

Soon enough, the playground is emptied of locals until it's just the four of you. The sun is making its slow descent in the sky. Even though it's still bright, ghost lamps begin flickering on. Four are posted at each corner of the playground and, distantly, you can see some on the street of houses, barely working.

Lockwood claps his hands together, startling you. "Right! Shall we get started?"

You want to say absolutely not, but you follow him up the steps regardless.

The inside of the school is chilly, but you don't think it's because of ghosts yet. The entrance hall is small, with pegs on the two side walls with little nametags above each for jackets. Silver crosses hang at random intervals, between boards full of poems and drawings that are too hard to see in the growing darkness.

"Sixteen degrees," George says. "Steady temperature, no malaise or miasma. Who has the gum this time?"

"Me," you say, and your voice echoes slightly.

The classroom itself is moderately sized, packed with tables and chairs, but it's the only one, judging from the only other rooms around being a staff room, a small canteen area, and toilets. Small town, small school.

Lucy calls from one corner of the room, "Fourteen degrees."

"Sixteen," Lockwood says from over near the entrance to the classroom.

"Sixteen," George says parallel.

"Ten," you shout in the final corner, close to the staff room door and the teacher's desk. "Little bit of miasma."

You chew on a piece of gum to keep the bitter taste out of your mouth and wish, despite the summer heat, that you'd brought a coat with you.

"Death glows near where you're standing, (name)," Lockwood says. "At least eight."

An iron circle is set up close to your corner after pushing tables and chairs out of the way, and George places a dim lantern inside it, along with the duffle bags. For extra precaution, another layer of iron chains surrounds the circle.

"Hear anything, you two?" Lockwood asks, glancing between you and Lucy.

"Nothing yet," Lucy says, and you shake your head in agreement.

The silence makes you uneasy as you slowly patrol the area, flashing your torchlight over everything, trying to find out what the source could be.

For a while, the four of you sit in the iron circle, drinking your melted milkshakes and tea, munching away on the snacks you made sure to pack. The room grows darker and darker until there's only a small circle of light from the lantern, kept low to encourage the appearance of the Visitors.

Suddenly, Lucy's head snaps to the left. "Do you hear that?"

You stop eating, focusing on using your Talents and, sure enough, a faint sound creeps into your ears.

"- Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven -"

"Prayers," you murmur. "It's the nuns. They're here."

"Apparition appearing," Lockwood says.

A faint glow appears on the other side of the room. You all stand, turning to look at it. A nun, only a few years older than you, hovers between the desks, careful not to touch them, praying softly as she cries. She pays no attention to the four of you, focused solely on her prayer.

George points. "Another one."

Over to the left of the first, another nun appears, looped in the same situation as her sister, praying and crying. Slowly, the voices become louder, and their crying becomes clearer as more and more appear all across the room.

"Six of them," Lucy says. "But, where are the -"

A scream only Lucy and you can hear deafens you, and you stumble backwards. Your foot catches on one of the chains, and you trip over it, falling out of the circle. Before Lockwood is able to grab you and hoist you back inside, the sounds increase by tenfold, even more horrific than before. You can hear their sobs, their screams of agony, their desperate prayers to be saved that go unheard and then, finally, one more death loop.

"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive others," an ominous, scratchy voice says, soon joined by a second.

You latch onto Lockwood when you regain your footing, unable to let go as you stare at the two apparitions slowly approaching the iron circle.

Two more nuns, their robes rustling in a non-existent breeze. One wears a cross around her neck. Her face would've been beautiful, once, but it's hard to tell with the blood covering it. With a start, you realise that one of her eyes is missing, and a number of scars cover her face. The other nun is free of blood, but her neck is bent at an awkward angle, and her head lolls slightly as if her neck has been broken. Her eyes are unseeing, but you can still feel her gaze.

"Wraiths," you say. "You said you fought of fourteen once, right?"

"Well, sort of," Lockwood says. "Lucy was right. Fittes may have come along and held them off."

"It shouldn't be too bad," George says, but he doesn't sound too confident. "Only two of them. The rest are Type Ones."

Lucy swears. "Type Ones who have the room surrounded."

It's a struggle to quench your fear, but you manage, slowly letting go of Lockwood's arm. "Plan? And don't say improvise."

He smiles. "You know me too well, (name)."

"Plan?" Lucy repeats, a little more urgently. The Wraiths have come even closer, a mere foot or two away from the iron circle.

"George and (name), you find the source. Lucy, you think you can communicate with these things?"

She scowls. "I'll try."

"It was nice knowing you guys," George grumbles.

You look at Lockwood, clutching his hand without even meaning to. "Don't be reckless."

He grins, squeezing your hand softly, and it gives you confidence. "When am I ever reckless?"

Before you can say always, he leaps out of the circle, drawing the attention of the Wraiths. Lucy follows shortly after, and they make their way over to the other side of the room, shouting and throwing salt bombs to keep them distracted.

"See if you can hear anything," George says. "We might have a better chance if you can get any clues from that."

Eyeing the Type Ones nearby, you drown out the sounds around you. The screaming arises again, but you force your way through it, searching for anything else. You're vaguely aware of the sound of fighting a little bit away, and the quiet crying and prayers still continue. And, then, there it is. Someone speaking, her voice filled with confidence and vigour.

"Sounds like... like a Bible verse. Lamentations - that's a verse, right?"

The sound of George's feet scuffling brings you back to reality, and you see that he has darted over to the teacher's desk. He flings papers off the table's surface, throws drawers open and scavenges through them.

Meanwhile, you draw your rapier. The Type Ones are drawing ever nearer, curious. Over at the other side of the room, Lockwood and Lucy are holding off the Wraiths, but it seems to be proving hard - the Type Twos' attention is wavering, flickering over to George.

"You might want to hurry up," you say over your shoulder. "You're starting to draw a lot of attention."

"I'm trying!"

With a grumble, you rush around the desk, crouching down to help the search.

Not even a minute before Lockwood yells, "(name)! George!"

All of a sudden, the table flies backwards, slamming you both into the wall. You can't help but cry out in pain, stuck underneath the weight of the wood. What business does a teacher have needing such a heavy desk?

But, then, there it is.

"The net!" you shout, more winded than you realised. "We need the net! Throw it!"

George's eyes catch where you're looking, and he starts trying to push the desk off you both. With it on top of your legs, it means you can't get into the last drawer - the one holding an aged copy of the Bible.

The sound of metal links hitting the wall sounds above you and, as dual screeches of rage fill the room, you grasp the net tightly, using all your strength to push the desk up, and shove the net into the drawer.

All sounds fade away, and the room becomes dark once more.

Shoes squeak on the floor, and then Lockwood's and Lucy's faces appear, dusted in salt. Together, the four of you manage to stand the desk back up.

With help from Lockwood, you stand on shaky legs, breathing hard. George is not better.

"What took so long?" Lucy asks, but there's no anger in her voice, just relief.

"You know when you're looking for something and it shows up in the last place you check?" you say. "That."

Lockwood still hasn't let go of you, and the warmth of his hands is a welcome feeling. "Well, they're gone now. Are you both alright?"

"Sore," George grumbles. "Stupid ghosts."

Unsure of whether it was George's words or the relief of being alive, you all laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls. You find yourself leaning into Lockwood's side, either for his warmth or the comfort of a living body, but you don't mind. Actually, you quite like it.

"So, have you made your decision?"

You open your eyes, trying to make it look like you weren't just falling asleep on Lockwood's sofa. The fire is just so warm, and the tea you drank in seconds was awfully calming.

"I have."

"And?"

Looking at him, you have to suppress your smile. Something about his smile, the subdued excitement of it, and this unpolished look of his - his tied loosened, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and his hair slightly ruffled - has your stomach doing flips.

"I'll join Lockwood and Co."

The grin that splits his face lights up something inside of you. In the year or so you knew him before 'The Incident', as you call it, and then the past month spent working with him, you've never seen such pure elation on his face.

"Really?" he says.

You nod. "Really. Figure I might as well. Business is slow otherwise and, I have to admit, cases with you lot are quite fun, even if I'm getting accosted by tables or thrown out of windows."

As you sit up, he moves so that he's sitting beside you. You can feel the warmth and happiness radiating off of him, and it makes you happy, seeing him that way. His hand closes around yours, calloused and strong, but his grip is gentle. It sends sparks coursing up your veins. No one but him has ever touched you so carefully, so intimately.

"You won't regret this," he promises. He's awfully close.

You grin. "I better not. I don't really fancy becoming a freelancer again. Terrible pay."

He laughs, and your heart skips a beat, strangely enough. "I'll make sure you're awarded the correct pay for someone of your high status."

Now you're laughing, too.

Slowly, you turn your hand in his until your palms are facing, and you feed your fingers between his. The touch is enough to have your heart hammering in your chest. His eyes, so dark as they look into yours, sparkle, and it's something you don't think you'll ever tire of seeing.

Well, in all reality, you don't think you'll ever tire of seeing him.

#lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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hyperfixatingmenever · 2 months

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Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams | Part 2/2 | 8.5 K | Mature

Title: Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/ Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 8.5K

Cross-posted on Ao3 here

A/N: I wrote part 1 (which I'd recommend reading first) for @theassbuttchronicles back in 2021, but I also wrote a dream that didn't make the final cut, which broke my heart because it was actually the first thing I wrote for the fic. BUT three years later, I've finally finished the fic! I hope everyone can enjoy it, but more importantly, experience the emotional turmoil of the dream with me! lol

"Son of a bitch!"

A sharp, stinging feeling shot through Frankie's hand; he had sliced it open while working on one of the helos he flew for instructing. The cut on Frankie's hand didn't feel like an emergency, but considering he knew you were working, and he cut it on metal, he thought, two birds, one stone. While holding pressure on his hand, he glanced around, looking for some type of fabric to help with the bleeding. The only thing within reach was his dirty, greasy hand rag. He rolled his eyes, knowing the lecture that was in store for him when you saw him. Accepting his fate, he wrapped his hand and headed over to the base clinic.

As he walked into the ER, he saw you busy working, bouncing between helping patients and other staff. He saw you smile and laugh with a fellow army medic. Your smile could light up his darkest days, and it had before. Without knowing, Frankie started to smile, feeling your warmth from across the room.

Out of his daze, he walked up to the registration desk. The sitting area was nearly empty, with only a couple of people since it was already late in the afternoon.

"Hi, Francisco Morales, 75-585-468."

"Frankie! What are you doing here?"

Picking up his head, he looks into your piercing eyes as you walk towards him. He lifted his hands clasped together, showing his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh Jesus"

Leaning forward, you tell the nurse at the registration desk to not worry about it, ‘I'll take care of him.’

Blush starts to rise a little in his cheeks, but he looks down and hides his face under his favourite 'standard heating oil' cap.

"Come on, Frankie, follow me," motioning to follow you down the hallway to a more private room.

"Okay, let me take a look at it."

Taking a deep breath, Frankie releases the pressure and shows you his hand.

"Jesus, Frankie, is this a dirty rag?"

"I couldn't find anything else!"

He waited for you to give him shit, but he saw you take a deep breath and say, "I'm just happy you're okay. I worry about you."

As you cleaned out the wound, you also ordered a tetanus shot and eventually gave him a couple of butterfly stitches.

"You know there are mechanics on base. It's literally their job to keep all the machinery running. Why are you doing repairs to your own helo?"

"Because I know more than most of those idiots! I don't want to be in deep water just because one of those hijos de puta tontos forgot to do something. If I'm going to take 33,000 pounds of metal up into the sky, I sure as hell want to know it's up to snuff."

He can feel the crease in between his eyebrows as he starts to get angry, but that soon melts away as you jokingly massage it with your pointer finger.

“Well, look at you! Flying and fixing, how did you become a jack of all trades?" You softly chuckled.

“Well, my Abuelo could fix anything, but he loved fixing cars and planes in particular. With my mom always busy at work, I spent most of my time with him in the garage, or we would drive to a hangar and fix up a plane. I started out by just handing him tools, but eventually, I learned everything he knew, and I started helping him when I got older."

"Awe, I bet baby Frankie was cute! All covered in grease."

"Are you saying I'm not cute now?" Frankie says in a teasing tone, even though some part of him is completely serious. He wanted even a small piece of hope that could show that you cared about him the same way he cared about you.

He sees you roll your eyes as you start to bandage his hand.

"You know I’m not always going to be here to help with your cuts and bruises, right?"

"But I don’t know what I'd do without my favourite medic," Frankie shoots back, giving his go-to smirk — trying to cover up the hurt around the idea of you somehow not being in his life anymore.

The two of you talk as you continue to wrap his hand. Talk about Rebecca and that horrendous date. In the small silence, Frankie lets slip. "She just wasn't the one.”

Honestly, he knew that even before the date because 'the one' for him was carefully bandaging his hand. The one who worried about him. The one who took care of him. The one standing in front of him.

You finally break the silence, showing that you've finished with his hand. He thanked you, and you both walked toward the nurses’ station. Frankie thinks about how easy it would be to hold your hand as your fingers innocently brushed up against each other while walking. Instead, he just keeps walking down the hall as you stop at the nurse's station.

Stopping in his tracks, he remembers movie night and turns back towards you.

"HEY, MI CIELO! Don't forget movie night at my place on Friday!"

Frankie can't help but smile while leaving, thinking about you and your threat of physical violence toward Benny. Man, he couldn't wait for Friday night.

-----

"What do you mean you're not coming!"

"Allison finally agreed to let me take her on a date, but she's only free tonight."

"Wait, who's Allison? Is she the one with red hair or the one who never stops showing pictures of her hikes?"

"Neither"

"Pope, I can't keep up with you," he rubbed his face and groaned as he continued to push the cart with his elbows. "You can't cancel Pope! Will and Benny both canceled this morning! If you don't come, it will just be Cielo and me!"

"Maybe that's for the best'' Santi's playful tone came from the other side of the phone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He retorts gruffly, already done with his best friend’s shit.

"You and I both know you’ve been dancing around your feelings for her since day one; maybe you should buck up and make a move Hermano."

"I can't! What if she doesn't feel the same way? I can't lose my best friend."

"Best friend? I'm hurt, Hermano. I thought what we had was special."

Frankie can imagine Santi dramatically clutching his heart. "You know what I mean," rolling his eyes at this whole conversion.

"Well, I still can't come. So I hope you two have a good time. I'll talk to you later. Good luck!"

And before Frankie could respond, Santi had hung up on him.

Frankie puts his phone in his back pocket as he continues to wander the aisles. He looked down at his cart full of groceries, snacks, and drinks. Even though it was now just the two of you tonight, the amount of food he got could feed a small army.

As Frankie heads towards the till, he's distracted by the flower section. He couldn't buy you flowers, right? Unless? No. It was already going to be weird, just the two of you; the last thing he wanted to do was ever make you feel uncomfortable. As Frankie lost himself in thought, an older man came up beside him and said, "She must be a special girl."

Tongue-tied, Frankie didn't know what to say. She was a special girl, but she was more than that. She also wasn't his girl. He didn't know what to do.

"My Winifred's favourite was tulips."

He reached down and grabbed a small thing of pink tulips. Giving them a light shake as he took them out of the water.

"It never hurts to surprise them with flowers, make them feel appreciated. They do so much for us, always caring for us."

He was right; even though he and Cielo weren't together, they always took care of each other.

Giving Frankie a small clap on his bicep, "And don't forget to always cherish her."

Frankie gave a small smile and nodded as the old man walked away. Frankie looked at the flowers for another second before picking up some sunflowers and continuing towards the till.

-----

The day slowly progressed; he put everything away and placed the sunflowers in water on the kitchen table. He wouldn't give them to you, but they reminded him of your smile. He made fresh popcorn with butter before running off upstairs to change.

"FRANKIE?"

Hearing you call his name while walking into his house always felt like a dream. He could imagine you walking into the home you shared together, calling his name, declaring your arrival. He would hug you and pepper you with kisses as you came home.

The night that this felt closest to the truth was one random Tuesday. It was the first time you didn't bother knocking; you just walked in… to his home. You walked in, grabbed a beer, and landed on the couch; he eventually brought you a plate of food and shared dumb stories about his students. As you threw your head back laughing, Frankie knew at that exact moment that he wanted to do this for the rest of his life.

But in reality, he never made any of his friends knock. It was well known his door was never locked, and you could just waltz in, but you were different.

"Up here! Coming!" Frankie rushes down the stairs to greet you, still rearranging the clothes on his body.

-----

Surprisingly you hadn't picked 'The Princess Bride,’ which he knew was your favourite movie. He'd never tell anyone this, but when he was having a dark day or missed you, he would watch 'The Princess Bride’ and think of you.

The both of you had watched 'Wonder Woman' and then put on 'Prospect,’ but as the night started to fall, Frankie's eyelids did as well.

-Dream-

Images of Cielo flashed through Frankie's mind. He couldn't help but smile. Cielo was the one good constant in Frankie's life; when things became too much, he always knew you would be there for him. But his lovely, warm memories of you were quickly distorted and changed into what he could only describe as a nightmare.

"Guys, this is Aaron. Aaron, these are the guys, Will, Benny, Santiago, and Frankie."

Aaron’s arm casually around your waist drove Frankie crazy; he could feel his jaw tightening. Thinking that it should be his arm around your waist, his shoulder you lean your tired head against, and finally, you should be leaving in his truck instead of some fucking Prius. Frankie saw a flurry of snapshots and nightmarish memories of Aaron and your life together. Starting with a simple date where Aaron reaches over and squeezes your hand, and you look at him with so much love and potential.

"That should be me she's looking at like that," Frankie thought, but as soon as it started, new images flashed in front of Frankie, Aaron holding you as you cry, movie nights with just Aaron and you. The last one making Frankie physically wince, Aaron rolling off of you, both of you breathless,

"That was incredible," you say while still trying to catch your breath, looking over at Aaron, propping yourself up on one of your elbows before leaning down and mumbling against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie didn't think it could get any worse; he was wrong.

"We're getting married!" You shriek as you wrap your arms around Aaron’s torso. Benny was the first to offer congratulations, hugging you and picking you up off the ground. But while Will was walking towards you to give his congratulations, Frankie was stuck. He didn't understand, how could you be marrying this guy? His eyes unfocused, and stared off into the distance. His head started to race, but before he could completely spiral, he felt a large wack on his shoulder.

Santi leans in and whispers in his ear, "Come on, Hermano, you’ve got to get it together and go congratulate her." Frankie knew he was right; he came out of his daze, walked forward, and wrapped his arms around you. He put his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent like it was the last time.

Pulling back slightly, "Congratulations, Cielo."

Frankie started to feel uneasy; his stomach began to tie in knots. Suddenly, Frankie was in his tactical gear in the middle of the jungle; he didn't know what he was doing here? He was no longer on active duty; his current job was to teach new pilots how to control a helicopter under extreme conditions. It had been years since he was in full tactical.

It felt heavier than usual… without explicitly knowing that there was a picture in his breast pocket, he took it out and realized why he felt heavier. Tears started to well in his eyes; he turned the picture over and read, "30 weeks. Come home safe, Frankie. This baby needs to meet their godfather."

Silently, Frankie started to cry. Crying over the fact that you were pregnant, that the baby wasn't his, but also over the reality of how happy you were. Happy without him. Frankie turned the picture over and started to caress your face and your bump carefully. Frankie loved you with every ounce of himself, and he would choose your happiness over his every single time. He knew there was nothing for him to do; it was too late to confess his love, but he also knew that he wanted to be in your life, and this baby’s, in any capacity he could, and if "godfather" was his role then so be it.

Suddenly there was loud banging in the distance, gunfire? Frankie's breathing hitched, and then, like some sort of glitch, the picture was no longer in his hands but a gun and the photo on the muddy ground. Frankie bent down to pick up the picture of you, but out of nowhere, he was tackled.

"Estúpido hijo de puta! What the hell were you thinking, Frankie? We're being shot at, and you're just standing there like target practice?!" Santi kept his voice quiet, but that didn't mean he wasn't yelling at Frankie.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" Frankie says, completely confused.

"You need to get your head out of the Sky and help me eliminate this last guy shooting at us so we can go home."

Frankie nods; he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.

"Okay, you go left. I’ll go right. They seem to be following us, so maybe we can surprise them from behind."

Frankie follows Pope's instructions and gives a wide berth to the left in hopes of trapping and surprising the person after the two of them. Frankie slowly crept through the jungle, keeping the end of his gun butted against his shoulder and his eyes keeping track of Pope through glimpses in the foliage. Frankie saw the person after them; he stopped and made eye contact with Pope. Pope gave a small nod. Frankie raised his gun and shot twice in center mass. The body crumpled. Frankie and Pope stalked towards the body. Frankie looked around the body for the gun, but there was none?

Frankie turns over the body… shock hits Frankie's entire body like a wave crashing over him. What had he done, what had he done! He dropped to his knees and cradled your body; Frankie’s gloved hand moved some stray hairs from your face. "Mi Cielo, what are you doing here? Baby, why are you here?" He starts to rock your body and cries, "I'm so sorry, so so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. Come back to me". Frankie feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up as Pope looks down at him. "This is your fault, Frankie, she's here because you never told her." As soon as he hears that, he can't speak, he can't move, everything is heavy, this is his fault. Suddenly BANG!

-End Of Dream-

Frankie jumped up from the couch in a terrible panic, trying to comprehend what was happening. His eyes dart around the room; he sees a broken plate on the floor and sees you step toward him. Scared of hurting you, he takes a step back. You're trying to talk to him, but it's all garbled; he can't make anything out. Violently, he shakes his head, hoping that everything will go back to normal. Finally, your sweet voice comes to him.

"Frankie, everything is okay, you're safe, I'm right here,"

As he looks down at his hand, he can see the blood that was there as he held your lifeless body in the jungle. Words tumble from his mouth. Part of him knows he doesn't make any sense, but all he knows is he has to keep you safe. Keeping you safe is all he cares about, and to keep you safe, he had to get away from you.

"I need you to stay back!"

Frankie ran into the nearest room and locked the door. He can hear you running after him, but as he slides down against the bathroom wall, everything feels like it's closing in on him. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, but the more he focuses on his breathing, the more he panics that he can't get it under control. He can feel himself spiraling; he's shaking, crying, hell, he can't even breathe right, but seconds before he feels like he's going to pass out, he hears you humming.

Humming a sweet melody, he doesn't know the song, but it makes him feel safe. You always make him feel safe. As he focuses on your humming, unconsciously, his breathing starts to even out, and he wipes away some tears. Frankie tended to feel nothing or everything after an attack like this. His hands were still shaking a bit, but when he focused on you, he felt better.

“Frankie? I'm going to go clean up the plate. Just call if you need me. I’ll be right back, okay?”

God, her tone was so sweet, which only made this hurt more. This was just supposed to be a typical movie night so she could get her mind off work, but he had to ruin everything, like always. All he wanted to do was go out and act as if nothing had happened, but he couldn't look into your eyes. He didn't want to show you how broken he was.

Frankie was unsure how much time had passed, but then you finally spoke, “You need to let me in, Frankie...please.”

That broke something inside of him. Hearing your plea, realizing how much this was hurting you, he never wanted to hurt you. That’s why he ran. He didn't want to be the reason to hear such hurt in your voice, but as he reached for the doorknob, his mind betrayed him.

“You don't deserve her. You'll always hurt her. She was happier with Aaron. You could never make her happy.”

As if these words caused him physical harm, he winced and pulled his hand back. His head is low as he took a deep breath, trying to hush these thoughts "...I don't want you to see me like this…"

She says something that makes Frankie chuckle, but before she can continue, he reaches for the doorknob again. He stands and slowly opens the door, revealing him behind. You take his non-bandaged hand in yours and, with your other, wipe the tears that still must be rolling down his cheeks. Your hands are so soft; he never wants to forget your touch. Gently, you pulled Frankie into a hug, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly; he stuck his nose in the crook of your neck. Frankie had never felt safer than in your arms, your fingers tangling in his hair as you rubbed circles on his back.

Eventually, Frankie starts to let go but only far enough to rest his forehead on yours; he stares into your eyes; his eyes then fall to your lips. Trying to alleviate any of the tension that was in the air, the first thing Frankie thought of slipped through his lips. "So, is this where we kiss?"

As soon as it leaves his lips, he wants to take it back.

Quickly changing the subject, you ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Frankie can’t even begin to explain how much he doesn't want to do that. Honestly would rather do anything because the only thing that could make this night worse was seeing pity in your eyes. “Can we just talk about anything else other than that?”

What Frankie wasn't expecting was your reply. “Sure.”

As you lead him to the couch and sit down, he lays his head on your lap without even thinking, only knowing that he needs to be close to you, touching you. You talk about everything that comes to mind. As you talk, he can feel you play with his hair. He closes his eyes and enjoys as your nails gently brush across his scalp.

"Frankie, why do you call me Mi Cielo? I know it means 'my sky,’ but I don't understand why you would call me that? I asked Santi in the past, but he just laughed and rolled his eyes at me."

Frankie groans. The only thing worse than you asking this question is you asking Santi first. Unable to look you in the eyes, Frankie explains his name for you, making sure to keep out a couple of details.

-Flashback-

“How about Mi Cielo?”

The rest of the guys give each other side glances before all bursting into laughter.

Santi, still laughing, said, “You can call her whatever you want. When it's just the two of you in bed.” Giving you a large smirk, “But we need a name we all can use.”

Frankie throws one of Santi’s many throw pillows that cover his couch at him. “Fuck you! It's not like that!”

Benny was now getting in on the teasing. “Oh, then what is it like?”

“We’re just friends! Just like the rest of us!” Frankie gestures to the three guys sitting around him.

While sipping his beer, Will quietly adds, “Man, I hope you don't look at us like that while our backs are turned.”

Frankie’s head whips towards Will, but Will’s comment has already sent the other two men back into hysterics. Frankie can feel his cheeks starting to get hot, so he gets up and grabs another beer from the fridge. Frankie throws back the bit he has left before opening the new one.

Santi walks in and grabs the new beer out of Frankie’s hand before he can drink it and takes a sip. “You know we’re just kidding, right?

Frankie glares at Santi as he turns around and grabs another beer.

“You're our brother; we’re going to give you shit, It's inevitable, but we do want you to be happy. She makes you happy, and even though you can't see it, you make her happy.”

Frankie waves off his comment as he takes a sip of his new beer.

“I’m serious! I wish you two idiotas could see yourselves. You guys have already wasted what? Seven years? I know you guys weren't in a good place when you first met.”

Pope was alluding to the coke. Frankie was now clean, three years sober. It was still a daily struggle, but there was no part of him that ever wanted you to see him like that again.

“But what I'm getting at is that you both have grown. You lean on each other. Hell, didn't you once meet her family?”

“Yeah…”

“Exactly! Now you've just gotta make a move! Because I don't know how many more barbeques I can take where you’re both looking at each other longingly when the other isn't looking.”

Frankie takes another sip. “I don't know, Hermano. I know I love her.” Frankie realizes this is the first time he has said it out loud, partially wide-eyed. He continues, “I want to be with her, but if she says no...I don't know what I’ll do. Part of me is happy with her just in my life, even just as friends.”

Frankie leans against the island with his elbows and rubs his face with his hands. “I don't know what I’d do without her, Pope.”

Santi claps him on the back. “I know, Hermano.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Benny yelled loud enough for Frankie and Santi to hear in the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll ask her out! How do you say it again? Pre-ci-ooo-sa?” (Frankie didn't even know you could butcher Spanish that badly)

Shaking their heads, Santi and Frankie both simultaneously say, “Maldito gringo”

-End Of Flashback-

When Frankie finished his explanation of your nickname, he saw you start to stare off. Thankfully, you were too preoccupied zoning out and playing with Frankie’s hair to see the red tint that slowly crept up his face. Frankie enjoyed the soft touches of your fingers intertwined within his messy curls, wishing he could stay like this forever. But you somehow caught him stifling a yawn. "Let’s get you to bed.”

Frankie was incredibly thankful you agreed to stay; he didn't know what he'd do if he had another nightmare like before. Hearing your steady heartbeat and even breathing kept him calm, but as he lost himself in the rhythm, that's when he heard — your confession. Frankie doesn't move; he’s got to be dreaming, right? His brain is playing a trick on him. You could never love him; he’s just a broken man. As his brain tries to process your confession, he can feel your breathing get shallower; you’ve fallen asleep. He lifts his head, looks at your peaceful face, and thinks, “I love you too, Mi Celio.” He places his head back on your chest and immediately falls asleep.

-----

This was the best sleep Frankie had had in years; he could imagine the rest of his life sleeping right beside you. In between conscious and unconsciousness, Frankie reaches out for you to pull you back toward his body, but all he feels is empty sheets. His eyes instantly open as he sits up to scan the empty bed and the empty room.

Where could you have gone? Could you have just left him in the middle of the night? Before heartbreak overtakes him, he sees the light coming out from under the bathroom door; he throws off the blankets, runs over to the door, and tosses it open. Your eyes meet as the bathroom door swings open; you’re at the sink washing your hands.

Seeing your eyes makes everything better. You didn't leave; you stayed; it wasn't a dream; you did love him. He leans into your hand, and everything feels better.

Frankie opens his eyes and asks, “Are you hungry?”

-----

“Can we talk about you kissing me?”

He could have been more delicate, but he was thinking hard about what to say. The words just tumbled from his mouth as he looked at you across the kitchen.

Seeing you start to backpedal made a small part of his mind doubt what he knew. But his love for you won out. He knew how you felt, and he knew he loved you, and he told you just that.

“I love you too.”

-----

The next couple of hours felt like a dream. You both confessed your love for each other, he finally got to kiss you (and taste you), and he got to worship your body as you deserved. After he rolled off of you, both of you still breathless, you turned your head towards him and said: "That was incredible… that was beyond incredible."

Frankie gave a goofy smile to himself, proud to have satisfied you better than your imaginary boyfriend he made up. But just like in his dream, you propped yourself up, leaned down, and mumbled against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie took further care of you, wiping you down with a warm face cloth and gently reminding you to pee. As he laid in bed waiting for you, he knew he wanted to take care of you for as long as you'd have him. He wanted this for the rest of his life: you taking care of each other. When you crawl back into bed, he wraps his arms around you, wanting you as close as possible, and the both of you fall peacefully asleep tangled together.

-----

Frankie woke up the best way he could ever imagine, with you leaning over him, slowly kissing his face. A smile on his face grew, and he greeted you, "Good morning." And with your warm smile matching his, you greet him as well. "Morning, Frankie."

He pulled you in with his bandaged hand to continue this kiss. After a minute or two, you pull back, Frankie’s lips pursed forward, wanting more, but you stopped to say something. "Oh, by the way, Santi stopped by and wanted to gossip with you, but I told him you were busy."

"Oh, am I?" Frankie said, completely joking. At this moment, he couldn’t care less about Santi. The only person he cared about at this moment was in his arms with the most addicting lips.

"Yes, extremely busy," her lips attached to Frankies. Their lips fought for dominance, but Frankie won when he flipped the both of you, so he was on top. With a small gasp, your mouth opened, and he used this to his advantage. As Frankie's hands traveled down your body and got to the bottom of your shirt, he realized something was different; this didn't feel like the shirt you had been wearing earlier this morning. He broke the long kiss between you two, both of you already breathless, and he looked down.

"Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it. Is that okay?” He can tell you're a little nervous.

“Yeah, I…you just look good in it… really fucking good”. Trying to keep his feelings in check. He couldn't tell if he wanted you to only wear his shirts from now on or if he wanted to rip it off your body so he could worship every inch of you all over again.

“You should see how good I look out of it,” you say with a wink.

Option two, he thought, definitely option two.

-----

Frankie woke up with your hair tickling his nose, but this only brought a smile to his face when he realized you were here and he wasn't dreaming. Frankie carefully propped himself up and gazed upon your face. He lightly pushed the stray hairs out of your face, pressing a light kiss on your temple. Then, he caressed your face, neck, and shoulder with the back of his fingers. Still asleep, you shifted your body, rolling on your back, seeking his warmth. Frankie's smile only grew as he watched your naked body search for his. Frankie kisses you once again before covering you up with the rest of the blankets, hoping that would stall your search for his body heat. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he makes his way to the kitchen to once again try and cook a meal. However, the terrible mess in the kitchen looked like it was going to take priority. After throwing away the cold starts of avocado toast, Frankie decides on something simple in case he gets interrupted (his stomach growls in agreement). Not that he'd be complaining; the both of you happily ate the cold takeout that you had ordered before falling back to sleep from exhaustion. He would eat cold food the rest of his life if it meant he could enjoy every noise, moan, and pleasure-filled eye roll you made as he worshipped you like it was his last time.

Frankie quickly whipped up some sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips and a couple cans of pop (deciding it was late enough in the day for pop but not late enough for a beer). Looking at everything before him, he realized he didn't have one of those trays everyone in the movie seemed to have, mentally adding that to a list of things to buy if you were going to be staying over more. He hoped you would be staying over more. Deciding that they would be sharing a plate (one less thing to carry … and potentially drop,) he moves all the sandwiches onto one plate, puts the bag of chips under his arm, and puts a can in each pocket of his sweatpants, which are pulling them dangerously low, but he didn't have to go far. But before leaving the kitchen, Frankie looked over to his table, which seemed to be brighter from the bouquet of sunflowers he bought the day before. With his one free hand, he grabs a single sunflower and heads back to the bedroom. Opening the door slowly, he sees you cuddled up in the pile of blankets he left you in. Frankie walks over to his side of the bed, places everything on the floor, then cuddles into you. He kisses up your jaw, pressing his nose into your soft skin, tickling you with his scruff. He tries to wake you up with a sing-songy voice.

"Come on Mi Cielo. Waaaake up. I've got a suuuuupriiiiise for yooou"

Only groaning your response

"Come on baby, wake up." Really trying to wake you with his scratchy scruff rubbing up against your face.

"Okay, okay, stop it. I'm up!" Grabbing the sides of his face and pushing him away.

Frankie laughs as you groan, sitting up and leaning against his bed frame.

"Okay, what's the surprise?"

"Close your eyes."

You squint your eyes, suspicious of Frankie, but you both know you trust Frankie with your life. Closing your eyes, you wiggle to make yourself more comfortable against the bed frame.

"Okay, open'em!"

Frankie sees the genuine surprise on your face. "It's nothing fancy, but I-"

Covering his mouth with both of your hands, you interrupt him. "Frankie. This is perfect. Thank you." Releasing his lips, you pull him in and kiss him. Both of you break the kiss rather quickly, knowing if you don't stop, it will be another forgotten meal.

Frankie saw you look at the sunflower on the plate's rim before delicately picking it up and gently tracing the petals with your finger. Internally, Frankie debated whether to tell you the meaning behind the sunflower, but as he saw your soft smile only grow, he simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

“It reminds me of your smile!”

Both you and Frankie are suddenly startled by Frankie's unusually loud declaration. Cocking your eyebrow in confusion, you look at Frankie in hopes of an explanation.

“I - uh, when I was at the grocery store getting food for movie night, I walked past the flower section, and when I saw the sunflower, I couldn't help but think of you… and your smile.” Frankie didn't think he had anything else to say, but he just couldn't stop. “I met this old man, and he told me about his wife and how she liked tulips, and all I could think about was us at that age. What we'd be like. But then I saw this sadness in his eyes, and even though he didn't say anything, I could tell how much he missed her. And all I could think of was how much more I'd miss you if we were that age, and I still hadn't told you how I felt.

As Frankie finished, he felt out of breath, like he had released all he had been holding on to for seven years. It took all of Frankie's conviction and confidence not to hide his eyes from your all-encompassing gaze.

There was a long silence as the two of you stared at each other. This was only broken when Frankie saw your eyes turn partially glassy, and panic flooded his body, but before he could apologize for anything and everything that possibly could have made you cry, he felt your arms be thrown around his neck, and with a tight squeeze he knew everything was going to be alright.

—--

The next two days, neither of you spent more than a couple minutes out of bed and almost always in arm's reach of each other. Contact became practically a necessity, Frankie constantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. Your hands traced each scar, cut, and bruise that littered his body. Neither of you wanted this to end, but Frankie was the first to declare a solution.

"Why don't we both call in sick?"

"We can't just call in sick, Frankie."

"Why not?"

"The both of us calling in sick? That's suspicious. Someone is bound to figure it out."

"We work in two completely different sections, no one would ever know." Frankie knew you. He knew you wanted this; it just might take a little extra convincing. But for a couple extra days with you in this bubble, it was worth it.

"I don't know, Frankie." Frankie saw you hang your head, and he knew this was his moment

"Come on Mi Cielo, play hooky with me." Giving his signature smirk before leaning down, kissing your temple, and whispering in your ear, "I'll make it worth your while."

Frankie pulled back to gauge your reaction. And when he saw your smile, he knew he had you.

"Oh, is that right, Mr. Morales?"

Hearing 'Mr. Morales' come from your lips made him give a low moan before biting his lip, trying to contain it.

"Si mi amour"

Frankie barely answered before dragging you back to the bedroom.

-----

Slowly, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday passed. Frankie and you found a rhythm in your rose-tinted bubble. Nothing appeared to be able to burst it, that was, until an unexpected guest.

Frankie was washing dishes from supper the night before as you dried and put them away. This felt like the most natural thing, sure you had washed dishes together in the past, but now, as Frankie looked over at you, everything was different. You were wearing an old shirt of his and an even older pair of boxers. You shook your hips and swayed to the music that played throughout the kitchen. From time to time, touching his waist as you move past him to put something away, often followed by a kiss on the cheek or behind the ear.

This time, however, Frankie saw you coming and turned to catch your lips; he could feel you react at first but, in an instant, melt into him. Not caring about anything, he turns, making sure not to break the kiss, and pulls you into him with his wet soapy hands, one on your back and one gripping your ass. You gasp in surprise, which Frankie takes advantage of, deepening the kiss. The smell of you fills his nostrils, and the sweet taste of you starts to fog his mind, but before he can do anything else, he hears, "Ahem."

Pulling back, Frankie turns to look at Pope, giving the two of you a shit-eating grin.

Frankie's head falls to your shoulder, and without looking at him, Frankie asks, "What do you want, Pope?"

"Oh well, when I heard my best friend was out sick, I went to see if our licensed medical professional knew anything. But to my surprise, she was out sick too!" Sarcasm dripped from Pope's statement.

Frankie feels a whack on his shoulder. "I told you someone would figure it out!"

Frankie lifted his head and rolled his eyes. "Pope doesn't count as someone."

Looking directly at Pope now, Frankie asks, "Again, what do you want, Pope?"

"Like I said, I wanted to check in on my best friend!"

Frankie cocks his eyebrow, knowing nothing is simple with Pope.

"I've given you guys four days together. Isn't that enough?"

Frankie, already incredibly annoyed by his best friend, matter-of-factly says “No.” before quickly pulling you in and passionately finishing the kiss Pope had so rudely interrupted. Frankie can feel you initially melt into him, but feeling Pope's eyes on you, you quickly come to your senses and push away from Frankie. He can practically feel the heat coming from your cheeks as you look down, making sure to not make eye contact with Pope before quickly excusing yourself to get dressed.

Watching you walk up the stairs to his room, he couldn't comprehend how lucky he was, but his fantasy was quickly dismissed when Pope declared, “Enough about you two, let me tell you about my date!”

Turning his neck, Frankie gave Pope one of the coldest stares he could muster this early in the morning. Either completely missing or ignoring the stare, Pope went into his story about his date with Allison “Okay, so I picked her up and took her to that hot new restaurant I told you about, and then we-” It was then when Frankie tuned Santi out and continued with the dishes, only occasionally adding in a helpful nod and ‘uh huh’ as the story continued.

By the time the story was wrapping up, Frankie heard you coming down the stairs, and he couldn't help but turn to you and smile. Like it was second nature, Frankie opened his arms, welcoming you into his embrace, but before you could Santi had to ruin the moment. “Wipe that goofy smile off your face. She was gone for like ten minutes.”

Santi and Frankie couldn't help but roll their eyes at each other, which only made Cielo giggle as she secured herself in Frankie's embrace.

“So what is this? Are you guys together? Or just fucking?”

Instantaneously, both Frankie and you shout, “Santi!” but Santi brushes this off with a shrug.

Frankie suddenly panicked. These days of playing hooky had let him imagine a life with you. In a perfect world, he'd propose to you right now, and you'd be married, moved in (and hopefully pregnant) by the end of the week.

But maybe that's not what you wanted? Maybe you wanted to just enjoy these days of playing hooky, and once it ended, never speak of it again.

Before fully spiraling, Frankie felt your hand on his chest, grounding him. He looked at you, and even though you were glaring at Santi (much like a sibling would), he knew that this was in no way, as Santi put it, just fucking.

"Santi, I love you like a brother. And because of that, I'm going to politely ask you to leave before I start throwing things. Particularly at your head." The smile on your face was radiant, but Frankie knew the look was dead serious.

Santi barely started, "But I-"

Still with the brightest smile spread across her face, Cielo picked up a plate and stared at Santi.

Santi squints, “You wouldn’t?”

You pull your back, ready to throw. “Try me, pretty boy.”

Seeing she means business, Santi lifts his hands up in surrender and makes his way out of the house.

Before the door closes, you yell out, “Bye, Santi!”

Frankie chuckled and turned to her, “Were you actually going to throw it?” to which she only answered with a shrug before continuing with the dishes. Frankie couldn't help but let out a booming laugh, with tears of laughter.

Once the laughter ends, there's a calm silence around them; the only noise is the sloshing of water from washing dishes and the clinking of plates as they're put away. Frankie knows what he wants, and part of him believes he knows what Cielo wants… but the voice of doubt still lingers in his head. Once again, Frankie is unable to keep his thoughts from spilling out.

“You want this right? You want us…” There's another pause, but this one feels less calm. In the silence, all Frankie can hear is his own heartbeat, slowly starting to rise. He puts the cup he was holding down on the counter, worrying that his sudden clammy hands will fumble it. Frankie sees you stare at your reflection within the sink. As he stares at you, waiting for a response, he sees a tear drop roll down your cheek and hit the water in the sink, making a small ripple.

Without even thinking, Frankie's hands are on your cheeks, wiping the silent tears with his thumbs and turning you to face him. Your brilliant eyes, which he loves so much, are glassy and red from the tears. Frankie sees your throat bob as you swallow hard. Frankie's voice can't help but come out as a beg, “Mi amor, ¿qué es?”

Cielo takes a very shaky, deep breath, and you responds barely higher than a whisper. “I'm scared.”

Another shaky breath was taken before she continued, “I'm scared we're moving too fast. I'm scared that we’ll ruin our friendship. I'm scared you'll fall out of love with me. Im - Im -I'm scared I’ll lose you!” You couldn't help but sob at the last statement, and your knees finally gave way.

Frankie immediately scoops you so he's on his knees, and you're clinging to his chest. He doesn't care that your hands are wet and soapy from the sink, he doesn't care that his shirt is wet from your tears, he doesn’t even care that he landed on his knees so hard he’d probably be sore for weeks. All he cares about is you. Taking care of you. Being there for you. Whatever you need. All that he did was for you.

Unconsciously, Frankie starts to rock you in his arms, whispering “I love you’s” in Spanish and English. The snobs eventually turn into much smaller cries. Frankie is still rocking but now humming a song that he didn't know the words to. Cielo finally looks up at Frankie, and he wipes your tears. “You’re humming my dad's song. He'd sing it to me when I was little.”

“It's also what you sang to me after my nightmare.”

“...I just wanted to help.”

Frankie nuzzles his nose against her cheek, “I know.”

This silence now felt like home. He could only hear their heartbeats, their synchronised breathing, and the song he continued to hum.

“I know you're scared, but being with you is all I’ve ever wanted. And I'm never changing my mind. I want everything with you, big or small,”

Frankie cradles your cheek in his hand and looks into your eyes. “I want to get married and have kids, but I also want to hold your hand when we walk side by side. I want to buy you flowers whenever I think of your smile. I want to have a picture of you in my cap. I want to hold you when we watch Princess Bride.” Taking a breath, he continues, “I want to wake up beside you every day for the rest of my life.”

Frankie leans down to kiss you, and the kiss contains multitudes. Frankie kissed you with a promise of your future together. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I promise. Nothing could ever take me from you.”

As You looked at Frankie, he knew, in his heart, they would be together for the rest of their lives.

-The Next Last Friday of the Month-

“Hey, Fish were here!”

“Hey guys! We’re in the kitchen!”

As Santi, Benny, and Will enter the kitchen with armloads of beer and chips, they are greeted by both you and Frankie, who are making popcorn and grabbing cold beer from the fridge.

Benny hugs you, lifting you up off your feet. “Oh my god! You're here first? You never beat us!”

“Oh, you know they let me off early today because it was so quiet.” You have a small smirk when Frankie catches your eyes, which he can't help but return. You actually arrived first because you and Frankie had been driving to work together for the past month.

Frankie glances at Santi to see if he's kept his word and not gossiped with the boys about the two of you. The two of you swore him to secrecy because they wanted to tell them together, which he begrudgingly agreed to.

As the five of them head to the living room, you and Benny continue to argue.

“It's Fish’s turn to pick! Those are the rules!”

“But no one showed up last month! All you fucks canceled!”

“It was your pick last month, and Fish’s pick this month. ‘thems the rules!” Benny shrugs nonchalantly.

You land in the middle of the couch with an indignant “Ugh!” as you cross your arms. “This is so not fair.”

All the boys chuckle, Will sits beside you, Benny sits in the armchair, Santi spreads himself over the loveseat, and Frankie goes to the DVD shelf to pick a movie.

Since Benny never knows when to call it quits, whispers under his voice as he takes a sip of beer, “Everyone cancelled because we couldn't stand to watch The Princess Bride again.”

Frankie can hear you gasping behind him, and then he hears what he can only imagine as pillows being pelted at Benny. Everyone starts to laugh again.

Benny starts to scream in defeat. “I'm Kidding! I'm kidding! I'm kidding!”

Frankie puts the movie in the player and turns to see you standing over Benny, who is on the ground trying to dodge punches, pokes, and tickles. Frankie chuckles and sits down on the other end of the couch to Will and presses play to the movie.

“Admit defeat Miller! And I’ll take mercy on you!”

“Uncle! Uncle!”

“Say it!”

“The Princess Bride is the best movie ever!”

Satisfied, you stand and take the middle seat between Will and Frankie.

Out of breath, Benny crawls back into the armchair before asking Frankie, “So what are we watching, Fish?”

“The best movie ever.”

You look at Frankie with a touch of shock and he can't help but smile. Benny lifts his eyebrow in confusion until the movie tile screen comes up.

Benny groans and everyone laughs. You kiss Frankie on the cheek and cuddle beside him. Frankie kisses you on the top of the head. “Cualquier cosa por ti mi amor”

There's approximately 1 minute of silence before Will speaks up. “What the fuck?”

Benny is still staring at the two of them with a blank face of confusion.

Will once again, “Are we missing something?”

You shush Will “ssssshhhhh the movies starting!”

Benny, this time, stands up and blocks the TV. “No, no, no, explain.”

Frankie glances at Cielo to which she answers with a shrug. “Fine if it gets us to watch this movie quicker. Fish and I are together” Benny goes to interrupt but she stops him “Uhp! Uhp! Uhp! We've been together for a month, we are happy, and we will be taking nobody else's opinions.”

Benny and Will finally look at Santi, who has been playing on his phone the entire time.

Santi turns his head, “What?”

“Do you have anything you want to add?”

Santi thinks for a moment before throwing some popcorn in his mouth. “We should all start knocking because I walked in on them basically having sex in the kitchen.

This made both Frankie and you yell, “Santi!” and for good measure, you threw another pillow, adding, “We were just kissing!”

Hearing giggles from the Miller brothers behind you, you whip around “Anything else?”

Almost immediately, they leaned back in their seats like nothing had happened.

Frankie pressed play, and they started watching The Princess Bride when Benny quietly whispered, “It's about goddamn time.”

To which they all can't help but laugh.

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #alix orignal post

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Note

Tumblr has been eating messages and requests lately so the lovely @ateliefloresdaprimavera sent in a request to my inbox and I figured I'd still put it in a request form so they can get the notification when it comes out!

The request is for an OC!Henderson!Reader (only OC because making the character a biologically sibling of a character implies assigned race/ethnicity and Dustin is white) x Billy Hargrove. Kind of enemies to lovers where he starts off kind of skeptical of her but eventually comes around and they become like The Couple of the Hawkins group.

I pray this is good.

If you asked anyone in the group of misfits that I watch over, 'who's the leader', they wouldn't hesitate to say that it's Steve. Steve has been the staple babysitter for the longest time, taking care of my younger brother Dustin and his friends, for almost three years. He's a good role model, especially since he dropped his douchebag attitude and developed a personality.

I mean, I think that anyone would improve upon themselves and gain a few braincells back after dropping Carol and Tommy as friends, let's be honest.

He was just a solid dude with a good head on his shoulders and after all of the near death experiences and weird multi-dimensional demons we've fought, they couldn't have asked for a better role model.

Except for me.

Steve was deemed the team mom for the longest time and has even started to develop some maternal instincts; putting himself on the line for the safety of the kiddos, giving the unwarranted advice, not totally understanding the term TMI, and he's annoyed by them a perfect amount for him to be deemed 'mom'.

And yeah, he might be the mom of the group, but I'm the daddy.

Every single thing that mine and Dustin's dad missed out on, I was there for those kids. I was the dad who went and got the milk and actually came home. I was, for them, what I needed from such a young age and it's ended up mending that empty space in Dustin's heart that he's felt every day that he's grown up without a dad.

But every birthday, I was there, every school project and Hellfire campaign, I was prepared to help them get ready, every frustrated tear, every world ending catastrophe- all you could see was me. A second parent to all of them, an older sister- anything they needed, they could find in me.

But somewhere between the mind flayer and Vecna, I got a bit lost.

Maybe not lost but distracted to say the least.

I've always hated people who use a position of power to inflict pain upon other people. You see a lot these days in men, especially my age, getting ahead of themselves and becoming way too full of themselves. Science would tell you that they're just wired differently, that men have this ego thing and it typically relates back to being treated poorly by one of their parents.

It's ironic how the same types of abuse occurs in females, yet, most of the time, we're not raging psychopaths. Most of the time.

The first time I saw Billy Hargrove becoming a bit too snippy with Max, I watched and waited for something to happen- something big enough to give me a reason to intervene. It's not like I had been waiting to punch him across his silly, stupid, handsome face, or anything.

Except I totally had been waiting for that exact opportunity.

And boy, oh boy, did I get it.

I watch from the steps of the arcade as Billy storms around the other side of the car to glare down at Max, a menacing smile on his lips as he mutters quiet words to her. The red head looks tense, her eyes looking anywhere but his as he quietly chastises her, his fists clenching at his sides and she goes to finally open her mouth in words of rebuttal.

I know how this goes, the anger and the frustration, he was bound to snap sooner or later with Max being out and about so much with me and the others. I could only imagine the back talk that he was getting from his dad every time that Max was out a little too late and, though Max didn't see it, I saw that every time she slipped up, Billy was the one getting punished for it.

But somewhere between Billy cornering her against the car and practically spitting in her face, Max finally has enough and steps away from Billy, pushing him a bit with her shoulder. I can tell by the look in his eyes that it would not fly well and he almost immediately reaches forwards with unrelenting speed, wrapping his fingers tightly around her wrist and he tugs her back towards him.

I'm on my feet in a moments notice, marching over towards them as Max catches me out of the corner of her eyes, urging me not to get involved but there isn't a care in the world. He would not get away with being so cruel to her and he wouldn't dare lay a finger on me.

My hands push him roughly away from Max, his eyes slitting and his lips part to argue but he doesn't get a second to speak before my hand is slapping him across his face. He groans loudly at the sting, immediately reaching up to coddle his sore cheek as I tug Max into my side.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He spits, the red mark on his cheek only making me grin as I rub up and down Max's trembling back.

"Not your bitch and neither is she."

All it took was for his fingers to wrap around the pale girls wrist, tugging her towards him to spit some awful words in his face and I was pushing him away from her, slapping a hand right across his face. He was stunned for a few moments, gawking at me with wide eyes, a smirk too, before muttering out a 'who's this?' to Max moments later.

I explained that I had recently taken her under my wing and that obviously no one was looking out for her or her safety. He was almost annoyed at first, eyes looking me up and down, almost trying to figure me out as if I had an ulterior motive.

But he learned eventually that there were no ulterior motives, I slapped him because he was being a dick and I hung out with Max because she needed someone to look out for her and care for her.

Which, apparently, I would end up doing for both of them months down the line.

Billy and I, at first, were in no means friends. We weren't amicable, we didn't like each other or have any common ground other than the fact that we knew the same people. And I had met him in his life guard days, where he was the most self deluded version of himself. Maybe it was the mind flayer but maybe it wasn't, maybe the supernatural aspect just brought out the even more accurate, terrifying version of himself.

It scared Max but it scared me just as much. We knew he was dangerous, that he was capable of a lot of things, but we never realized just how much of an asset he would become when the evil side of Hawkins took over.

"Billy, this isn't you, stop." Max mutters behind me as I hold my hand up to the glass, looking through the sauna window at Billy but he doesn't look like him. His eyes are more sunken in, hopeless and completely at the will of something else, something distant and far away from me and from the rest of us. He's normally got a look of anger behind his eyes but he looks nothing but calm.

The calm always comes before the storm right?

He just looks at me, ignoring the bickering behind me, tracing his gaze over the grooves and dips of my face, as if he's trying to place me in his memories- like the mind flayer is sifting through Billy's memories to find where I fit in his life.

He pauses, a small smile stretching across his lips in subtle familiarity and it makes me flush, nervous that the mind flayer would say something, that he would speak horrible things about me from deep within Billy's subconscious. But he doesn't, his lips part as if he's going to say something but he doesn't, he just looks from me to Max who stands beside me, her eyes staring into his lifeless ones.

"Why is he acting like he doesn't know you?" Lucas asks behind us and my chin cranes to look back at him, sighing with a heavy heart. I know exactly why he looks like he doens't know me and there's one other person in this room who knows it even better. My eyes turn to Will next who already has a knowing, terrified look on his face.

"It's like when I was possessed by the mind flayer, I didn't even know who Bob was o-or Hopper." Will explains, a look of realization passing through everyone's expression at the memory of Will being completely and utterly gone.

Just like Billy is right now.

When he survived the mind flayer, no one really knew what to do with him.

Here he was, retired bad guy who had his body used by an inter-dimensional freak who needed him to carry out his bidding. He was trapped in his own body for the longest time as is, following exactly in his fathers footsteps- racist, dark, demanding, dominant, judgmental- as to not upset him, to make his dad feel a sliver of pride.

Daddy issues, am I right?

When he came out of the mind flayer, he was hospitalized for the huge gash on his abdomen, Max and I stood at the end of the bed and just game planned for hours on how to deal with him; we had no clue if he would remember anything that happened or if he would be different like Will.

We imagined that if he did remember everything, he would hate himself, beat himself up just like Will did and need hours and hours of supervision and help. But Max explained that he wouldn't take it, he would never take help or comfort especially when he felt like he didn't deserve it.

But when he finally woke up after days, he was terrified. He didn't trust that we were there, that what he was experiencing was real or not. He kept looking through Max and I, not focusing on us long enough to even recognize who we were for a few days. It took weeks of therapy and patience for him to actually start to open up to us about how it was like.

He described that the mind flayer would show him images, dream-like pictures, of the people around him and he never knew whether it was real or not and it led to him not knowing what actually happened over the course that he was 'taken over'.

My eyes widen at the sight of Billy's gaze locked on me, a slight familiar look behind his tired, red eyes. He has dark circles around his hues, his hair matted against his forehead from sweat. I just hand him a glass of water which he takes almost immediately, lip quivering as he takes a sip. Billy's eyes are the definition of sunken in as he looks around the room, jaw gritting at the sight of Max sleeping beside his bed, tears strained on her pale cheeks. He almost looks sad that she's sad, biting at his lip that's already cracked and broken. He looks to me next, his lips parting as the realization crumbles down onto him that he's finally back in his own body, safe and sound.

"How many people did I hurt?" He asks, voice gravely and hoarse as his lips tug down into a frustrated frown. My heart aches at the sight of him showing a sliver of vulnerability, a side to him that not a lot of people have actually had the pleasure to see. Knowing this is hard on him, I take a breath, realizing that the last thing he needs is to be reminded of the horrific pain that we all went through. He doesn't need anymore demons. I know that he's probably beating himself up as it is at the thought of being completely out of control, watching himself hurting everyone else around him without the ability to stop.

So, to take the tension off, my mind does the only thing that I can think of doing.

Cracking a joke.

"Because of the mind flayer or in general?" I tease quietly, having some apprehension, not wanting to make him upset. But moments later, I watch his face relax a bit at the non-judgmental tone in my voice. A small, tired smile spreads across his lips, his shoulders drooping a bit back into the bed at the playful edge that's cut through the tension in the room.

"You're still being an asshole to me, sweetheart? Really?"

After that, he didn't talk about it unless it was absolutely necessary.

Still to this day it's like pulling teeth.

But the only silver-lining with the town going to shit, with Billy getting scarily wounded, was that it was the final straw that sent his dad over the edge. When Billy was released from the hospital, we all found out that his dad had left in the time that we were there, waiting for him to come back to his normal self and to finally be released. Max's mom had been at the hospital with us, staying overnight for days on end while his dad was at home packing his shit and taking all of the money from their joint bank account.

He ran away with his tail between his legs, leaving his son, wife and step daughter to fend for themselves.

I was the one who actually ended up finding the trailer opening at the park, Max's eyes dulling a bit at the glum vibe that was given off by the small community but at least Eddie lived across the street. That would mean that Lucas would be over there along with the rest of the gang.

Speaking of Lucas, Max and I both held it over Billy's head that he was an asshole to Lucas the most and that the boy deserved more than an apology from the recovering man. Billy was hesitant at first, not understanding the need to apologize or maybe he just didn't want to admit that he was a terrible person.

He claimed it was ingrained in his mind from a young age and, maybe he's right, but that was no longer a sound excuse for him to use with me around. He eventually apologized to the boy and the rest of the friend group, including Steve, even though he was embarrassed and felt utterly stupid.

Max and I even believed his apology was sincere.

But the true reason why he hated me so much at first was because I could pick him apart. He hated me at first because I was not afraid to call him out on his bullshit whether it was regarding Max or school, or even his racist comments towards Lucas; I would be there to chew his ass off and make him walk off like a kicked puppy.

But eventually, that anger and annoyance shifted to familiar care and even admiration through all that we had been through and everything that Hawkin's put him through. Eventually it would come out that his mother left at a young age, Max would realize why he was so bitter about her mom, realizing he just didn't trust or like woman that much. He was always afraid of making new friendships and relationships out of fear that he would become too much like his father and that they would run for the hills as quickly as they came.

It was weird to see him softening, to see him apologizing and making right with the people around him, not because we told him to, but because he wanted to be done with it and put it behind him. It was weird when the both of us realized that we were actually becoming friends and it was even more shocking when we realized there was more than friendship between the two of us.

But no matter how strong our personalities were, there was no ignoring our feelings when Max was constantly pointing them out.

"You guys are terrible liars." Max suddenly speaks up from the backseat after minutes of silence, taking Billy and I off guard as we look to each other before stopping at a red light, turning in our spots to look back at the red head.

"Where on earth did that come from?" I ask, deadpanning a smile with a tired look. I know that she knows. She sort of, kind of, walked in on Billy and I moments before we left for the arcade, my mind still replaying the moment that just happened not even twenty minutes ago. I was wondering when she was going to bring it up but I didn't think it would be today let alone right now.

Max just smiles with a shit eating grin and points between Billy and I.

"You two, you're just terrible liars. You act like no one sees it but we all do." She says simply, almost as if she's proud for figuring it out, but I continue to protest and feign ignorance, my brows furrowing, gaze turning to Billy. He just shakes his head with wide eyes, before turning his attention back to the road.

"What do you mean?" Billy asks, looking at the girl through the rearview mirror as I watch him, his fingers tightening around the wheel in anticipation as Max laughs behind us.

"I mean, how you guys are fucking each other and giving each other heart eyes. You think we don't see it but we do- I see it-"

"Max-"

"No, Billy- look," she pauses, sitting up to look at him from between the seats," you've been through shit in the last few months. If you found comfort in Y/n, I get it- so did I. But be fucking honest about it and show her off cuz she deserves to be shown off."

As thrilled and supportive as Max was, Dustin was not as thrilled to find out that Billy and I were together.

Maybe it was because I'm his older sister who really never entertained any sort of relationships with people. I was always there, always responsible for him and the rest of the group, especially after everything that happened with Will. No one would've understood the huge secret that Hawkins was hiding and it's not like I could exactly hide that from someone when dating them. So I just waited and hoped that someone would get involved in the mess and become a potential suitor.

But it just never happened.

Eddie wasn't my type and I don't think I was his, Steve and I were like platonic parents of the kiddos, and everyone else was taken or thinking of someone else. It was just complicated, so I stuck to my role as the older sister and focused on protecting the people who I love.

Dustin also has been more protective over me than anyone else in my life so it wasn't exactly easy to date with him breathing down the back of my neck. Any new friend or crush that I would have, he'd ask an impossible amount of questions and pry into any sort of business that I have. I couldn't keep anything from him so it's not like it was easy when I actually had to come clean to him and tell him that Billy and I were pursuing each other on the down low.

Dustin just didn't understand and that in itself, to me, was understandable. He didn't see all the behind the scenes stuff, only hearing about how Billy had become nicer to Max and I, and how he stopped terrorizing Lucas and owned up to his toxic, oppressive behavior. Dustin really didn't believe it and, to be honest, he had no reason to believe it.

But, days after telling him, Dustin told the rest of the group and eventually they all rounded up and sat us down, forcing us to explain 'what happened' and why all of a sudden we were closer than before.

"This is a joke, right?" Steve asks with a frown, pointing between Billy and I who sit awkwardly on the couch in Eddie's trailer. I send him a quick glance, asking him quietly to take this one. I was in charge of telling Dustin and explaining how we fell for each other to Max but he was in charge of explaining it to everyone else.

The group looks at us, confused and full of questions, all of them silently begging us to explain how this relationship came about.

"Not a joke, Harrington." Billy sighs, looking down at his lap before reaching over to take my hand in his. A few gasps sound out from around the room, my eyes rolling as my head flops back to rest against the couch. "Not that it's any of your goddamn business but, yeah, we're together." He says with a forced smile, looking around the room with a 'well?' expression, begging anyone else to just say something.

"I'm just confused as to when this happened?" Robin scoffs, reaching up to rub her hands down her face before looking to me, wondering why I never opened up to her about my feelings for Billy but there's some truth behind the fact that he snuck up on me in a way.

"Me too honestly." Dustin chuckles and my jaw drops, feeling utterly betrayed because I thought I was passed explaining this to him. "I'm confused as to when it happened. Was it after the mind flayer but before Vecna or sometime other than that?" His question makes my head spin, especially because Billy and I never actually talked about when our feelings developed for one another.

One day, they where just there.

"The confusion thickens." Eddie chuckles, clapping his hands, taking the attention off of Billy and I as the group looks to him. "Let's leave the lovebirds alone and maybe talk about something a little more fascinating because I'm sure we all can assume that this 'relationship' definitely started with them hate fucki-"

"Ew Eddie- gross."

Maybe it was the effort that Billy was putting into changing himself and being less like his dad, maybe it was his sudden kindness towards Max and her mom, though he still held some sort of annoyance towards both of them; something pushed me towards him and I couldn't explain it.

Maybe it was trauma.

Eventually, Billy would slowly acclimate to the group and helping out in the more supernatural aspects of the town, hating the rural space more than he did before. He felt unsafe and unsteady now knowing what was actually out there, hiding under the surface of our homes.

But now he had something that he never had before. He had people, an actual family and friends. He was done being the new king of Hawkins, he was done with the fighting and the bullying. He was trying his best to settle into being an actual human, with actual goals and relationships with people around him.

People like me.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi

@crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht

#billy #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things fic

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just-promise-me-jm · 5 months

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Make it right, it's gonna be all right

I'm just going to include this gif at the top because its one of my favorite Jimin gifs from this past year.

I had meant to come back here sooner, but to be honest my life is kind of a mess right now and work has been killing me so I haven't wanted to spend any more time on the computer than I have to during the day. But as we approach enlistment week, I felt like it made sense to come back on here and share some of the feelings I've been trying to process since news of Jimin's enlistment first dropped.

There are a couple of things that I feel like are important to preface before I share the rest of my feelings:

I am not Korean and have never lived in South Korea, so I don't have an intimate understanding of how the enlistment process or military service in South Korea works. I will do my best to just share my feelings and opinions without getting to deeply into things that I don't really have a place to comment on.

Generally speaking, I am a pacifist so I wish that we lived in a world where no one had to serve in the military, voluntarily or involuntarily. I also understand why that isn't always a reality.

I am a woman, so in most cases mandatory military service isn't something that would apply to me and therefore I can't really speak to how this would make me feel if I was in his shoes.

Obviously we knew this day was going to come eventually, especially once Jin had started the enlistment process, but it doesn't make it any easier to sit and think about not having Jimin around for the next 18 or so months. It's a weird set of emotions to process the absence of someone who you don't know personally, but who has been a constant in your life for years. The fact that this comes during December, a month which many people (including myself) find to be a difficult time of year, only makes it harder.

Because a conversation around whether or not the members of BTS should have to serve is basically irrelevant at this point, I'd rather focus on some of the conversations I've seen around whether or not Jimin will "do well" in the military.

Now, some of what I've seen posted is coming from PJMs or other Jimin fans who are concerned with his welfare and whether or not he will be subject to bullying or harassment like some other idols have experienced. I've also seen some really unhinged takes saying he is too "weak" or won't be able to cope due to some imagined mental health issue (obviously this is not coming from anyone who really cares for or supports Jimin). I even saw posts detailing Jimin's martial arts prowess meant to defend him against those accusations.

So let me be real for a sec - I think Jimin is one of the most dedicated and hard working people I have ever come across and I'm including people I know IRL in that calculation. That isn't just about his martial arts background (even though he could definitely kick some ass if he wanted to), how many hours he spent on his own practicing his singing and dancing leading up to and after his debut, the amount of work he put into FACE, or even how grueling the life of an idol can be. I think it comes down to the type of person he is at a fundamental level - no one can keep up that level of effort on an ongoing basis unless it's hardwired into them. Ultimately, this is what I think will help Jimin to survive and even thrive during his service.

Beyond all that, seeing how well Jin and Hobi seem to have done during their service so far also gives me a lot of comfort. Knowing that Jimin and JK will be stationed with Jin for the next few months gives me hope that he can show them the ropes and help them get settled in. Having those familiar faces will have to make things easier, especially in the beginning.

Even though I'm sure Jimin will be fine, I am wondering what the best way to cope with all of this will be. It feels a little weird to be worried about his fans in a situation like this but at the same time I know I'm not the only one who cares deeply for him and will be impacted by this situation. I think my game plan right now is to light a candle that day for Jimin and send out some positive vibes for his happiness and a safe return, but if anyone has some good suggestions please share.

I probably won't be able to be super active on here until after the holidays are over, but if I think of anything slightly interesting to share I will try and post that when I can. I've also been thinking of what I might want to do in the new year to continue to celebrate Jimin until he comes back. I was considering doing some posts discussing some of my favorite songs or music videos of his, but would be open to suggestions if there is anything you would like to hear my thoughts on. I'm also happy to be here to listen if you need someone to chat with about missing Jimin.

Hope wherever you are you are having a good morning/day/evening/night 💗.

#bts jimin #jimin #park jimin #jiminie #jimin bts #bts #pjms #enlistment

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silverfoxstole · 10 months

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I came across some old interviews and things I'd typed up yonks ago the other day, so I thought you lot might be interested in reading them. 😁

THE JENNIFER SELWAY INTERVIEW

DAILY EXPRESS 11TH OCTOBER 2001

“IT’S NICE TO HAVE BROTHERS. WE STAND IN FOR EACH OTHER ON ACTING JOBS AND IN THE PAST WE HAVE EVEN SWAPPED GIRLFRIENDS”

Paul McGann was burgled a couple of weeks ago.

“Oh, no,” I coo, like you do. “It was just stuff,” he says casually, sounding like an old hippy, which is not unfeasible. After all, he’s 41 now, which surprises me when I think about it. 41! I had assumed he was younger, something to do with those boyish, studenty looks – something to do with being immortalised in Withnail and I.

The really bad thing about the raid on his home in Bristol was that the thieves made off with his wife Annie’s computer, and she (a writer) lost several weeks worth of work.

“There are some scumbags in the world,” says Paul mildly. “They came through the front door at night. The kids and I were in the house asleep. Though apparently – I asked the policeman about this – the real rush hour for burglaries is two o’clock in the afternoon. It makes sense when you think about it. You wouldn’t look twice at someone hanging about the house at that time. There are always people round our house.”

“Like who?”

“Mates, musicians…you know.”

No, I don’t know really. It sounds lovely. Mates and musicians chilling out at your house all afternoon, the twang of an acoustic guitar, probably joss sticks and instant coffee.

The funny thing about Paul McGann is that it’s difficult to tell whether he is really very intense and energetic or as laid back and ordinary blokey as he makes out. Take his face, which can look somewhat grey and severe one moment and then all young and smiley the next. He can switch from headmaster to naughtiest boy in the class by just lifting the corners of his mouth.

He is the second oldest of the McGann brothers, the Liverpudlian acting family. No one (I’ve enquired round the office about this) can ever remember how many there are though most people seem to throw in a few names like Mike [eh?], Joe and Steve.

Paul – he ought to be reliable on this one – says there are five McGann siblings including one sister. Mike [She means Joe] is the eldest by just 16 months. Amazingly, there don’t seem to have been any rifts or feuds over the years. Paul thinks that being part of a clan can be a positive advantage to an actor. “It’s true that if people don’t see you on screen for a while they forget about you. But if you’re a McGann you get four times the opportunity of being seen. We are pretty interchangeable.”

He pauses for a moment and studies my face for a reaction. “You think I’m joking, don’t you? But it’s true. We’ve stood in for each other on acting jobs. The last time was a couple of years ago and no one was any the wiser.” He says he can’t remember what TV show it was. But I have the suspicion that this may be a diplomatic memory lapse.

Boys will be boys. And being so close in age the McGanns have also shared, not only jobs, but girlfriends. “I don’t remember us exactly passing girls around. It was more a case of the girls taking themselves around under their own steam,” explains Paul.

Quite so. “Women love the McGanns,” said Richard E Grant, Paul’s co-star in Withnail and I, adding, “while my admirers are mostly old men in trenchcoats.”

Withnail and I, directed by Bruce Robinson in 1987, is one of those films that brings a smile to people’s faces at the mere mention of the title. A low-budget surprise hit, McGann and Grant played a couple of out-of-work actors living in majestic squalor who spend the entire film veering from one bender to the next.

“It’s one of those films which just cheers people up. It’s always a laugh if someone comes up to me and talks about it. I’m always glad to meet Withnail fans. The funny thing about Richard is that you can’t think of a better drunk act than him but in fact he is allergic to alcohol and never drinks. He can’t metabolise it. But you know almost everyone has had their Withnail era, lived in a terrible flat, endured the squalor, we’ve all met that drug dealer, we all stayed up too late. It’s great to have been in something that has got into folklore in the way that Withnail has.”

Not all of McGann’s projects have been so happy. In fact he has been dogged by the most awful bad luck. In the mid-eighties he was very much the bright young hope of British TV, starring on BBC1 as First World War soldier Percy Toplis in Alan Bleasdale’s controversial Monocled Mutineer. A move to Hollywood seemed on the cards and off he went in 1987 to appear in Steven Spielberg’s Empire of the Sun, though most of his screen time disappeared on the cutting room floor. A similar fate awaited his role in Alien 3.

And there was more bad luck to come, including a car crash in Spain in 1991. Three years later he was in the Ukraine filming Sharpe for ITV. “We had a day off and were out on the beach playing football when I ruptured my knee. It was horrible, it swelled up like a balloon and I just wanted my mum. I tried to soldier on but in the end I had to be flown back to London.”

Sean Bean took over the coveted role of the dashing Sharpe and McGann found himself embroiled in a protracted court case concerning his contractual obligations. “Let’s just say that none of us was aware how badly injured I was. It was tough because I needed the dough at the time – and there would have been a lot of it – and that would have got us out of a domestic hole. It sent me into a bit of a spin, to be honest.” McGann’s next doomed project was as Doctor Who in the Hollywood-produced version which became the centre of another lawsuit between the BBC and a consortium of backers. The film, made in 1996, was a flop.

“I can’t regret it. It was a laugh. If it had gone ahead I would have been committed to five or six years in the US and I’d have had to move the family there. I didn’t want to be Dr Who at first – it’s a bit like taking over the responsibility of becoming the Pope – and I thought it was a silly idea. After all, I’m a po-faced dramatic actor.”

Last year McGann starred in Fish, BBC’s off-beat legal drama which was pulled because of dismal audiences. Recently he filmed The Biographer, playing Andrew Morton at the time when he was writing his celebrated book about Princess Diana. The film has yet to be released.

“I’m glad I did it. The scripts might have been salacious and awful but they weren’t. You don’t see Diana at all – just a fleeting glance from a distance with her back to us.”

Now, finger crossed, he’s back in another new BBC drama, Sweet Revenge, playing Patrick Vine, an “expert” in revenge whose clients want more than the old tried-and-tested methods involving “cutting up clothes and dead fish”.

McGann himself has toyed with the idea of revenge in the past. In 1996 [Actually 1994] he was spotted kissing Catherine Zeta Jones and became the subject of intense media interest. That Catherine was an old friend and the kiss no more than a mwah-mwah peck did not prevent the McGanns’ lives being made a misery. “It caused my wife Annie and I – and Catherine – huge distress. It’s very upsetting to be at the centre of that kind of attention. And did I want revenge? Too right I did. I wanted to get out there and throttle someone. Rightly or wrongly, I chose to do nothing. I didn’t want to dignify it by making any kind of statement. In the end the whole thing petered out because it was a non-story.”

Together for 20 years, Paul and Annie have two sons – Joe, 12, and Jake, 10. Annie studied acting at the Bristol Old Vic and their move from London happened over a long period of time. “We were in our own Withnail phase and felt we had to rejuvenate and get out of London, so we used to go to Bristol for weekends. We created a kind of bolt hole and eventually just forgot to leave. Then, when Annie was first pregnant we had to be grown up and buy a house. It was at that time in the late eighties when houses were a ridiculous price. That’s the real reason we stayed on in Bristol – we just couldn’t afford to live in London.”

He lives in Bristol almost by accident and he is an actor almost by accident.

“I never wanted to be an actor. I never went to Stratford-upon-Avon, or kept scrapbooks or had pictures of – I don’t know – Alan Howard on my bedroom walls. I would have liked to have been a musician. It was almost obligatory growing up in Liverpool – you kick a ball around and play in a band. But what I really wanted was to be a track and field athlete. I would have been perfectly satisfied with that – an athletic career or even teaching sport. But I didn’t make the Olympics which I wanted to do. It just didn’t happen. It was something to do with being 16 and highly sexed like all 16-year-olds and discovering the inside of the bar. So in the end I just slipped into the acting.”

McGann may have the ability to go with the flow but it’s clear he is not always so easy going. “I’m mellowing a bit. But there are times when I’ve wound myself up in knots, and in egotistical terms I think I was a bit of a bastard. I have thought about revenge in childish moments and temperamentally if I was going to get back at anyone I’d do it long after the event. That’s not nice, is it? I don’t forget but I’m reaching the stage where I can forgive. I’ve been a very jealous person as well. I’ve been jealous of my wife, jealous of my brothers and I’ve been jealous of people I’ve never met. Anyone who says they haven’t felt the same is a liar.

“I’ve reached the slow realisation that no one is really looking at me. You know how when you’re a kid you think you’re the centre of everyone’s attention? Discovering you’re not is refreshing, especially for an actor.”

McGann’s mellowing process is the result of hard experience. And he seems remarkably sanguine about his woeful luck. And old (well, middle-aged) hippy that he is, he quotes Sanskrit at me.

“You find what you should be doing through your mistakes. I really believe that. And so much depends on luck. There’s a Sanskrit saying: ‘Where you stumble, there your treasure is’. Do you like that? It’s good, isn’t it?”

#paul mcgann #interviews #how did this woman manage to write this without checking some simple facts?#poor mark whose name is apparently difficult to get right #headdesks #mcgann monday

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lestappenforever · 1 month

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💜🌊🌚🪻(🧡 But only if you comfortable enough)

Thank you so much for these, anon! ❤️

💜 describe yourself in five words or less!

Loyal, kind, altruistic, observant and hardworking.

🌊 a kink you would like to write but you think you’d be judged

I honestly have no shame when it comes to kinks I enjoy, so if I wanted to write a specific type of kink, I would write it.

🌚 a show you’d tell people to stay away from

The Manifest. I watched it when it first came out because I thought the plot seemed exciting as hell. What a waste of time that turned out to be. I kept waiting for it to become good, but it never did.

🧡 what is your sexuality?

I'm bisexual!

I'm putting the last question under a 'Read More' cut because it might be triggering to some people. TW: Mentions of emotional and verbal abuse/terror, trauma, anxiety, despression.

I went to see my doctor the next day and began therapy with an excellent psychiatrist the following week. Two and a half years of weekly therapy sessions later and I'd finally began to properly heal from two+ decades of trauma, and untreated anxiety and depression. I went back to therapy for about 10 months a couple of years after finishing my treatment the first time around, and I'm very proud of the person I have become since.

🪻what is the toughest thing you had to go through, but can say you’ve successfully overcome?

Well, I had to watch my father verbally and emotionally terrorize my mother, threaten to leave her every time they had a disagreement, turn every major holiday into living hell for us all, and completely robbing the kindest, strongest woman I've ever known of every ounce of self-respect, self-worth and confidence she had. When she had finally had enough and left him when I was in my early twenties, it had seriously fucked me up and I had a complete breakdown on my way to uni around 6 months after I moved across the country and was on my own for the first time ever.

Ask game.

#Asks #Anon asks #Personal #Ask games #Get to know me ask game

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 3 months

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How do you guys read hate tweets/comments about Jimin without it upsetting you? I see some Jimin focused blogs here posting screenshots about Jimin antis saying the most awful things about him, and I ask myself 'how do they do that?'. I read something terrible being said about Jimin, I get so heartbroken that it puts me in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Sometimes I wanna respond to these comments but when I try to type down what I want to say, I literally already feel so exhausted. So I just report the person, block them and stay out of social media altogether for the rest of the day. Sometimes this feeling can stretch on for days to a week, so I'd stay off social media for that long

I really want to know how to read anti stuff and not let it get to me so much because all that hate just can't be escaped if you love Jimin and follow socials about him. Even if you curate your timeline and block Jimin stans who like getting into petty fights with rival stans, it all finds a way to slip through in some way. So how do I become emotionally strong?

I used to be a lot like you, too. Maybe it wouldn't ruin my day but I've cried. Many times. Last year, when these things didn't even matter to me as much as they used to, the things I read one day were so bad that I threw up. Now... I have low blood pressure and a meek stomach so I used to throw up a lot even on good days (now it's under control), but sometimes it was triggered by stress or negative emotions. And that's what happened that day.

2021, 2022 I used to get back at people. Not all the time, not even often, but yeah sometimes. And my tweets used to get lots of engagements too. I mean, at least what was "a lot" for solo spaces back then; 200, 300 likes. Nowadays I see akgaes tweets getting 2k likes, but it started being like that after face. Anyways, I used to get back at people who were lying, because that's what's always bothered me the most.. the lies. As I've said before, it wouldn't bother me if the things they said about Jimin were true. If he was a terrible person, or if let's say he had actually gotten any special treatment, then I'd understand if people were mad. For example, you can't call Jimin names and say he sleeps with his boss only to have photos of Jungkook having dinners with said boss. The hypocrisy, the lies always bothered me. The character assassination mission people have been on when it came to Jimin. The gross edits, I never knew what to say to that because I don't have it in me to be sexually violent to other people and I also never wanted to bring that stuff to others. But lies were something I could at least try to correct.

I'm not sure I have a real advice, though. I don't exactly know when I started getting desensitized to it. To be fair, I don't read the tweets. Maybe it's once a week that I come across some report page or some pjm profile where they're having a back and forth with another akgae. But I usually don't see the hate lately.

I think what worked for me was deactivating my Twitter account every once in a while. Everytime I came back, I would go back with less "emotions" if that makes sense? I would not react so strongly like I did before; you'll start seeing things as less important than before. I used to deactivate whenever Jimin didn't have schedules, or sometimes I just felt like I had had enough and wanted to take a break. Maybe nothing happened, but I just felt like it was necessary. You have to learn how to deal with fomo, though, and then you'll be able to do that. I used to deactivate and then check stuff from fanbases and not fan accounts. I still do that, mostly though I do check a couple of fan accounts, too.

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nicxxx5 · 1 year

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okay sooooo i went to see a psychologist two years ago and she said that i fulfilled the criteria for autism. but then i went to see another psychologist and she said that i wasn’t neurodivergent. it’s kinda confusing but maybe it’s because in the second assessment i was masking my symptoms a lot more because i was a lot more aware of them???because college has been incredibly difficult for me with the disruption in my routine and also i’ve always had an issue with food and sensory issues. my mum thought that i was autistic when i was 15 because of my problems with food. i also have some hyper mobility and when i was younger i saw a speech therapist and i had additional classes for maths because i found it difficult. i also have bad hand eye coordination and find sports difficult.. also idk if this classifies as a special interest or not but when i was 17 i loved gilmore girls.

i watched it once and then during the summertime i watched it four times back to back, also bought all seven seasons on dvd. another thing about me is that this summer i loved stranger things so much that i would spend hours on end analysing it.

do you think that’s similar to anyone else’s experiences on here ??? i’m a little thrown off because of what the second psychologist said😭 but also maybe this is just me but does anyone on here find that people who are loud and bubbly are overwhelming to be around… because they’re always talking and it can be quite overwhelming… and they can just be so bubbly that it’s hard to keep up… they’re so loud that it’s hard to be around them…

i also find the sound of people eating so annoying like the texture and sound is just too much for me also the smells , i find really hard to deal with unless it’s something nice like chocolate or pizza. i just feel like i can get so attached to people really easily and they just aren’t like that and tend to take advantage of me😭😭 but idk if i’m autistic🫠🫠 does anyone find that this relates to them too?obvi you can’t diagnose me, just wondering if anyone relates.

also, i did a couple of tests on here and here are my results.

autism spectrum quotient: 27 out of 50

RAADS-R: 140 out of 227

empathy quotient: 26 out of 80

clinical partners test: 20 out of 30

aspie quiz: 127 of 200

AQ 10: 5 out of 10

AQ: 23

toronto empathy quotient: 60 out of 64

masking test: 131

hi! i've never gotten an ask like this before so i'm going to respond to this the best i can but i want to make it very clear that i am not a professional of any kind so everything i say is based off my own experiences

to me it sounds like there's a high likelihood that you probably are autistic if you, your mom and the first psychologist thinks so. sometimes psychologists are wrong or not educated enough about autism. there are some psychologists and therapists that specialize in autism so they are better at recognizing and offering help to those who are autistic.

i'd also definitely call the thing about the shows at least a hyperfixation if not a special interest. the difference between the two usually has to do with how long you are focused on that things. a hyperfixation may last a few months while a special interests can last for years in comparison.

i have come across people on here who have had similar experiences. everyone's experiences are different. personally for me...i guess like i have a lot of sensitivities or preferences to things like certain types of people are overwhelming (some of this is also due to trauma for me) or certain foods i won't eat, but these can also change depending on my mood. like if my mood is good i might be okay with talking to different people or trying a different food, like i don't want to but i can bare with it. but if my mood isn't good i'm more sensitive to things and if i can't handle it i'm more quick to get frustrate because something isn't the way i need it. and back to the trauma things, i'm also a little less trusting of people because of that, but i also have higher standards for people and so if they don't immediately meet my standards i'm not really gonna bother with them.

i hope this makes sense. this was kinda a lot of word jumble but i'm trying to respond to this at home and i'm surrounded by my family right now which has me really stressed so i can't concentrate but i hope what i did say was at least a little helpful

also i'm sorry but i don't really know a whole lot about those scores. i've 100% probably taken all the quizzes you're referencing but without them infront of me i can't really make heads or tails 😭

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callmeghostly · 4 months

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Okay, well this is going to be different from my horny weeb content but I don't know where else to post it...

TW: Mental Health discussions, trauma dumping (possibly), General Angst

if you are not in a good headspace to read this, don't. please - Take care of yourself, I'll be back to my regularly scheduled shit posting after this brief message.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay -

To make a long story short, I'm.. I don't know what is going on anymore. I feel like a shell of myself, an empty husk.

To clarify;

these last few months I have been back and forth about being an absolute shell of myself, In November I lost my job without any real reason - Not to worry though, I started a new job this past Tuesday, this will come back up later.

I also have been in a relationship for the last, almost 6 years (again, this comes into play shortly)

Now, none of you know who i am, or what I am like outside of this chaotic website, which is why I'm sharing it here. I have been slowing spiraling and I have no one to talk to about it so I'm going to scream it into the fucking abyss and hope that works.

This last week while it should've been happy and refreshing, has been absolute bullshit and hell in a handbasket. I've been feeling some type of way about my relationship for months now - Am i comfortable? you're supposed to feel like roommates after the initial honey moon phase, he's just not the affectionate type, Etc. The more time I spend online the more i don't find myself 'awwing' at couples, I feel jealous, unloved and unwanted - I'm 24, I should know that EVERYONE on the internet is only going to show the best side of themselves, and I do.. so I can't help but find myself confused over all of this. I've noticed I've pulled away from him, not becuase I want to necessarily. Heres the thing, I know he cares - He wouldn't have been there for me through half of the things he has been if not, but at this point I feel cared for - not loved, and only cared for out of obligation.

On top of this, I feel like my strongest assets are not knowing how to communicate with people effectively and by proxy, pushing those people away.

I feel like the fights I get into, both with my partner and my friends, are due to lack and breaks in communication in tone. Which is definitely something I need and am trying to work on.

In this last week I have gotten into, verbal disagreements we'll say, with two of the people in my life, on the same day and ever since then, I've been foggy mentally.

So, lets wrap back around -

I started my new Job this past Tuesday, it was fine - however due to my fucked sleep schedule from being out of work for 2 months I had been up since 12am and I had to set through training from 8:30-5. I was fucking tired and ready to just crash, however that same night content that I had been waiting on dropped, now something to note - My partner and I have a 2 bedroom apartment, one we use as an office- I get very loud and obnoxious when I see things I enjoy, which he doesn't like to listen to me scream (which is fair) so I told him, possibly rather harshly to admit my own fault, to give me a few minutes becuase I knew I'd be screaming (from excitement) or he could put his headset on, and That pissed him off and other than some hurtful words we didn't talk much therefore ruining both any appetite or enjoyment for the content I was watching, never the less I tried to do both and regardless, my night was soured regardless.

Moving forward from that, I trauma dump on one of my friends - she was so gracious to listen and I would like to be clear, I am in no way trash talking her or this situation. I know she may see this (If you do, Hi I love and appreciate you, I promise) I just... Need to frame the situation. She listened, gave me advice and tried to make me feel better, in turn I came across as an absolute dick, misreading a conversation and upsetting her causing her to log off for the night.

5 days later, I can't shake either of these incidents and to them, life is back to normal, and here I am - Screaming at strangers on the internet for someone to care.

I don't know what to do, I feel like a cornered animal with no outlet or way way of escape - I just, I want to fall in love with being alive again and I feel like that is the worlds hardest ask - I'm slowly shutting myself out and down..

There is no way to wrap this up peacefully, light heartedly, or humorously. There are so many other things I could add to this, and while no one is going to read this - It's gone on for long enough. So, I'll end it here.

Moral of the story; Take care of yourself, try to love yourself first and maybe things will turn out okay for you.

to whoever may see this, I'll always be here for you all if you need someone to that, I promise.

Sincerely,

Ghostly

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 1 year

Text

Mad Libs: Harry Potter Edition #1

As with Mad Libs, you replace every bolded section with the required type of word. Good luck!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remember our days back in Hogwarts? The night we were sorted into [House] was probably the best of my life. And I know that on your end, you really [Verb] it.

On our first morning, we ended up getting lost on the way to [Class] and ran into [Person #1]. Of all people too! Thankfully [Person #2] came out of nowhere to be a distraction so we didn't lose any points. You know, I don't think they made a map of the school yet. How are kids getting into trouble for being late when they are new and the classrooms literally change when they feel like it? Hogwarts is sentient! Hel-lo?

Seriously, [Person #3] needs to do something about that. As Head of the school you'd think some thought would actually be put into the rules. Wait, is there even a handbook? I don't remember ever getting one.

Anyway, onto topics that don't make me [Verb].

Remember our first Quidditch match? [House #1] against [House #2]. [Person from House #1] got hit in the face with a bludger and spent a month comatose. I never understand how magic couldn't just fix things in a jiffy. Like, [Hogwarts Teacher] was always going on about how amazing it was and how there were so few 'impossibilities' when magic was involved. You'd think the curriculum would improve to include the truth of the matter, huh?

After all these years?

Oh! Remember how you fell down a flight of stairs in our [Year]? I know you broke your [Limb] but it was kind funny how you rolled all the way to the bottom floor! It was strangely slow and somehow you didn't manage to catch yourself!

Hey! No need to get all [Adjective] about it! If you recall, I ended up flashing [Person] my knickers while climbing up to the Astronomy Tower, and then slipped and ended up taking us both to the floor. It hurt a lot and was embarrassing!

Also, that was the first time I ever wore a thong, so I'm not sure if they count as knickers since not much fabric was involved. Things were seen that day, I'm just saying!

Either way, I definitely had it way worse that you. I fractured my [Bone] in that fall after all. My ego and my body suffered. I was never the same.

No, I'm not going to tell people about how you [Verb] [Person] at [Hogsmeade Shop] and got laughed at for it. I mean, I'm totally mean but not that mean, you know? Friends first and all that rot.

Oh! I also saw [Person] in Diagon Alley last week. Remember that time you both went to the Yule Ball together? Yeah, that was the worst [Verb] I'd ever seen. And you never improved either. Don't look at me that way, you totally didn't.

Okay, fine, maybe you did improve a bit. I especially like it when you [Verb] with your [Body Part]. It's definitely something to my tastes.

What? Graduation? You mean with the Giant Squid [Verb] [Person] right off the boat on the way across and disappeared under the lake? Yeah, that was... not good. Bit not good. [Same Person] was never the same after that. I thought they were going to have the Giant Squid executed or something. The kind of tantrums we had to witness all the time made it a strong possibility.

Didn't you trip while coming off the boat?

No, I did not forget my hat in the [Hogwarts Room]! That was [Person]. Anyway, I never had a hat to begin with. I was always getting into trouble for it because [Hogwarts Teacher] didn't like it. Lost us [Amount of Points] every week I didn't have one. Same with [Item-Singular]. Never had that either.

I was woefully unprepared all the time. You were always giving me [Item-Plural] and having to bail me out. And then I would take the best notes and let you have them. We make a great couple, huh? No wonder we're [Relationship].

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a little thing I did because I was bored.

Like it? I got a Ko-Fi.

#HP #writing #Watermelonsmellinfellon #Self-Insert #2nd pov

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im-a-gaymess · 3 years

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How do I tell him?

Young!Tom Riddle x Male Reader.

7th Year.

Angsty Fluff? Contains suggestive/smut scenes.

Slight mention of violence (Just Tom wanting to punch the stupid out of people).

Summary: You and Tom are in love with each other, always were, though you only realize it after ending a pretty toxic relationship.

Word Count: 1786

A/N: I thought of this while listening to Strawberries & Cigarettes thought I'd share

[1:42 AM]

"Look, I'm not saying that I want their attention 24/7, it's just that, well, they don't ever try to make time for me. Even when I need them, they're never here. But I'm expected to be there for them at all times. I'm just so tired of it. I don't know what to do anymore." You sighed, lowering your head as your eyes wander around the ground.

You've lost sense of time, place even. Only once you stopped to take a breath did you note how late it became. As you raised your head you saw how dark it really was there. The clouds over the stars making their light nearly non existent, and the moon half hidden behind some trees.

And as your eyes travel all over the quiet, dark yet beautiful sky, Tom's attention is strictly fixed on you.

If only you knew how much that man felt at the moment. Really, he was almost overwhelmed with the amount of different emotions.

For one, how badly he wanted to punch your partner for how deeply they hurt you. He knew, from your previous vents, that there was so much more than them just having no time that bothered you. He wanted to make them cry out apologies with regret guilt for how they made you feel.

But also, he couldn't help but feel the need to hold you, keep you close to him, tell you how everything's going to be alright. How all he wants to do is protect you from all of the world's evil, to keep you from anything that could cause you harm.

Without you even noticing, Tom gently put his hand over yours, rubbing circles with his thumb on your hand. How can someone be so,, so endearing,, so loveable and be treated this way? How could someone ever look at him and want to use him? he thought, not brave enough to bring himself to tell you what he truly thinks of you.

"You know you deserve better, right, my love?" he asked, and you, all too familiar with the pet name reply with a little smile. "Would you be surprised if I said yes?" you chuckled, turning to face him, the sight of the boy in front of you making your smile grow a little bigger, causing the other to look at you with loving eyes.

"I still love them, though, I don't even know why, but I do. I still hope they're going to change, even when I know they won't" you continued, a short, awkward laugh leaving your lips.

"Believe me, sweetheart, I know exactly how that feels." he smiled at you, gently stroking your face with his free hand as the two of you continued to talk about everything, and anything, enjoying the company you gave each other.

[Following day, 4:27 PM]

Who knew that drawing in the library's restricted section would be so relaxing? Sketching animals, book covers, objects and even some random fellow housemates. It wasn't so bad, right?

But let's be honest, you were only using it as a means of distraction, trying to get yourself to forget about the fact that you're going to break up with your s/o. You don't even know how Tom managed to convince you.

Of course, it's for the best, you know that. Doesn't change the fact that you feel so damn guilty about it. I mean, why do you even? It's not like they value you, it's not like they won't have other people lined up to take their bullshit right the moment you decide to leave.

Okay, that's it. You're doing it, you're definitely doing it. You mumbled to yourself. After, of course, another art session in your little distraction place.

[5:54 PM]

What's the worst that can happen if I confess? I mean, it's not like the world would end, not like the world would explode and I'd be buried underneath layers of rock and lava.

You had him feeling something he's never even imagined he'd feel; he was nervous. His forehead full of sweat, causing his hair to stick on to him. What are you putting him through?

Friendship...That's all I am to him. I'm just a friend to [Y/N]. He only sees me as a friend. Nothing more than that. Maybe I shouldn't. I probably shouldn't.

[6:11 PM]

To his surprise, Tom heard a knock on his door. He most definitely wasn't in the mood to see, yet even talk to anyone.

"Tommy? My love, are you in there?" You questioned quite loudly, making sure to be heard from across the wall.

That petname, you have no idea what it made him want to do. Did he want to have you underneath him, touch every little bit of your body? Did he want to show you that you're his? Hear you whine and beg for him to kiss you; and so, so much more than you could imagine.

It's not the time to get lost in such sinister thoughts, Tom, he mumbled to himself, finally walking over the room to let you in.

"Hello, darli―" before he could finish, you rushed into his arms. Wrapping your hands around your friend's waist as your head rested under his own. "I missed you all day, dummie" you spoke quietly, finally happy to spend time with him.

He was quite surprised to say the least, you weren't the type to enjoy going for any type of physical affection of any type, unless it was under certain circumstances. Especially the hug being so long.

He wasn't complaining, he adored it, but he couldn't help but worry. Was something wrong? Were you hurt?

"Love, as much as I enjoy moments like this, is there anything you need to tell me? Should I kick anyone's arse?" he raised his brow, looking down at you.

You shook your head, never letting go of the taller man, a smile appearing on your face. How cute he is when he's worried, you thought.

That's pretty much how the rest of the day night went. The two of you in each other's embrace, spending it in utter silence, just glad to be in your own little world together.

You told him, before going back to your dorm, about how you finally broke up with that douchebag, and was your man proud.

The couple next days, weeks even, went by quickly. You and Tom would hang by the library after classes to complete and give help with what the other might have been stuck on.

Tom walks towards you, so dangerously close, you can practically feel his lips on yours. A hand's glued on the wall next to you, right above your head. Your body pressed against a door, his knee right in between your legs, brushing against your crotch. His other hand pulling you closer by your waist, soon planting kisses all over your jaw and neck. You can't help but melt into his touch, his lips- you just want more, more of him.

You gasp, practically jumping up your bed. It was only a dream, wasn't it you thought, sighed in slight disappointment. You wouldn't like to admit it to yourself, but you've been thinking about Tom in a certain way lately.

That only made things worse for you. Because according to you, he would never see you that way. Because the way you saw it, Tom only ever thought of you as a friend.

And so thought he. He was just as disappointed every time he'd dream of the two of you being intimate, romantically, sexually, it didn't matter. He was just as devastated when he woke up. Always went back to sleep hoping those wonderful dreams would go on.

Both of you had a few dreams like those. Some were a whole lot sweeter. Dates together, just the two of you softly making out with the sound of classical music in the background. All of this causing the two of you a bittersweet feeling, thinking that all of this was just hopeless dreams, impossible to come true.

════════════════════

Starry night, you and him, the lake, the full moon shining bright. There's nothing that could ruin this delightful night. It feels like a dream, so much that you even question the reality of what's going on.

"Is this...real?" you ask Tom, not taking your eyes off the sky you so dearly loved. He raised a brow at you, looking at you in a clearly confused expression.

"If it wasn't, we'd be doing more than just stargazing, love" he chuckled, really hoping you'd take it as a joke.

"What would we be doing then, darling?" you question once again, mocking the way he calls you petnames while at it, a visibly evil smile painted on your face.

Tom takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, turning to face his pretty boy. "Do you really want to know, [Y/N]?"

The usage of your name kind of, just a little bit, frightened you. Not in a necessarily bad way, more like in a 'I have no idea what to expect next' way.

"What would you do if I kissed you?" he smirked at you, feeling oddly confident, though your silence and shocked face slowly faded. He was about to mutter apologies 'till you let out a mumble. "I'd like that" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What was that, my prince? Would you kindly repeat that for me?" he told you with a straight face, making you wonder if he truly didn't hear you. If only you knew the amount of pride he felt at that moment, barely four words and his mind wandering to so, so many things he knew the both of you would like.

The shade of your cheeks changed a bit, was it from embarrassment? Or from the idea that he may actually like you back. Either way, you did repeat what you had told him, blushing even harder as there was an ever-growing smile on your face.

Soon enough, Tom sat up, leaned against a tree nearby. Motioning on his lap, he asked you to sit there, and happily you did.

You've never seen him smile like that. He looked at you like you're the only person in the world. His hands firmly on your cheeks, slowly pulling you in.

Your arms instinctively went around his neck, tilting your head to the side in order to deepen the kiss.

Once you pulled away to take a breath, his hands rested on your lower waist, his eyes staring at you lovingly as they always did.

"You know I'm no good with words." you looked at him exactly the way he was looking at you; you were truly each other's everything. "I know, my prince" his hand wandered around his loverboy's hair, soon pulling him in yet another kiss.

He knew he loved you, and now he was sure you loved him too. Only thing is, he wasn't sure how to ask you to take over the world with him, but for now, he was happy with what you had, and so were you.

#i loved the process of writing this #I feel like Tom would really treasure the person hes in love with #harry potter x gender neutral reader #harry potter x male reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x gendernatural reader #tom marvolo riddle #writing #scenarios #tom riddle headcanon #harry potter #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction

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moved2usagiiboo · 3 years

Text

That body belongs to me

Warnings: HardDom!Mitsuya, squirting, spanking, oral male receiving, manipulative!Mitsuya, breeding, spit, female fingering.

Mitsuya, a successful rookie designer and his stunning model girlfriend clash heads when his beloved wishes to wear a dress from another designer to boost her credibility as a model. Her boyfriend wasn't happy with her decision in the least bit.

Author note; I've been sitting on this for a while, it randomly came to me when I was day dreaming in things that would piss Mitsuya off. For some reason I love making guys mad ✊🏿

Mitsuya, ever since he was younger wanted to become a fashion designer and in the face of all adversity he successed. He never complained about living situation, about never having time for himself, nor how he grew up too fast. How he was never able to just be a kid, he faced his problems head on and worked towards his dreams through it all.

He was an inspiration to everyone around him, his sisters, friends, and you.

Y/n Kataga, you met him during your third year of highschool. Your family had just moved to Japan due to a travel assignment your mom accepted. You had been adjusting to your new life in Japan, trying to figure out where things were, what's what. You were trying your best to adapt to the change, for your mom's sake. Lord knows how stress she has been, going through a divorce, raising 4 kids seemingly on her own. You wanted to help her out, even if it was just a little bit.

Your mother has been working so hard that she hasn't been able to explore Japan, going to work and straight home. It's been a few months since you moved to Japan, still being on summer break you didn't have to worry about school just yet. You made your brothers breakfast, cleaned the house, and set out to explore the city.

That's when you came across two little girls crying at the park, you went to see what was the matter with them. At first they were weary of you.

"N-Nii-san said not to talk to strangers..." The older one spoke up.

"Well, I'm a nice stranger who doesn't like seeing such pretty little girls cry. I just wanna help hm?" You spoke in your softest tone to gain the trust of the little girls.

They were still cautious of you but something told them they could trust you, they told you their names. Mana and Luna. They were absolutely adorable, you held the youngest one in your arm while holding the hand of the older one.

"So, what's does your big brother look like?" You asked the girls while walking around the block to see if you could find him, realizing without a description it would be a lot harder to spot him.

"Like a prince!" The little one cheered joyfully. You could only laugh at how she admired her older brother.

"Ey? Is that so?" You looked down at the older sister, she nodded aggressively agreeing with.

"Well, we can't just say we're looking for a prince can we? Any distinctive things about him?"

"Oh oh! He has purple hair!" Mana recalled.

"And he has piercings." Luna interjected, putting a finger to her chin thinking about other things that would help describe her brother, "and he's really tall!" She finished.

"So purple hair, tall, and piercings, got it." You repeated their description of their brother wondering just what type of person he really was. He seemed interesting in the least bit.

The morning sun slowly began to set as you and the girls walked around looking for this boy. You lot went in and out of stores asking around trying to find this mystery brother, you began to think that he left off without them. What a dick.

As the evening sun began to roll in the little girls grew tired, as did you. In the end you all ended up back at the park sitting on the bench with the girls crying themselves to sleep while laying on your lap fearful for what would happen to them.

You caressed their hair trying to comfort them as beads of tears landed onto your pants. Maybe you should file a missing children's report, you zoned out as you tried to think of ways to bring these children back to their parents or brother.

"Mana! Luna!" A gruff voice called out, through the corner of your eye you could see a tall boy running through the streets calling the names of the little girls now sleeping in your lap.

"O-over here!" You yelled waving your hands like a mad man to signal the young man. You caught his attention. He began to run over to the park. As he got closer you could see him, his piercings, the purple hair.. The way his skin looked in the evening light, he really did look like a prince.

"Mana, Luna, look it's your big brother." You softly shook the girls awake.

"Nii-san?" Luna muttered wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked up and saw her brother standing running towards them.

"NII-SAN!" She shouted, almost tripping trying to get out of your lap she ran up to him hugging his legs.

"Nii-san, nii-san, nii-san." She chanted it like a mantra, "was so scared, thought you left us!" She cried out holding onto his legs as her tears fell.

"I would never leave you guys, never." He comforted her, bending down to her height enclosing her in tight hug. You watched this sentimental moment with a soft smiled curled on your lips.

"Mana, look." You whispered softly. She opened her eyes and saw her brother hugging her older sister.

"Nii-chan!!!" She exclaimed running to him hugging him tightly.

You got up from the bench, dusting yourself off. You looked at the girls and they seemed okay, it was time for you to head home. You turned the opposite way and began to walk off.

"W-Wait!" The boy called out. You hummed in question, turning around to face him. The boy gets up bringing his sisters with him.

"Mana tells me you looked all around the city with them to find me... Thank you." He says gratefully, he bows his head forcing his sisters' heads down in the process with his hands.

"I-its okay! Please lift your heads, seriously!" You stutter out, you lock your hands together behind your back feeling shy all of the sudden, "It wasn't a big deal, they were really sweet." You smiled. They lifted their hands, Mana and Luna locked hands with their older brother watching you with their beady eyes.

"They seem to really like you, they normally aren't so accepting of people." He confessed with a chuckle.

"Maybe I'm special." You smugly say.

"I'd say... Takes a different type of person to spend all day with kids you don't know, just go make sure they get home..." He pauses locking eyes with you, "you're amazing."

He's so genuine every word was spoken with respect and appreciation, you never seen this before in a guy. Not a hint of sarcasm, nothing. Just pure. You felt your face heat up as you locked eyes, you quickly averted your eyes turning your body the opposite direction.

"W-Well, I'm just happy they found you." You stuttered out once again, you covered your face with your hands feeling the heat seep through. How embarrassing. You suddenly shook as your pocket began to vibrate.

"Oh shit!" You closed your mouth, "I mean, oh crud...." You look back at the little girls hoping they didn't catch that. "I, I have to go!" You looked at your phone realizing you had over 60 messages and 9 missed calls from your mother. You began to run off waving goodbye before disappearing into the evening sun. You didn't even catch the young boy asking for your name.

When you made it home, you got yelled at for what seemed like hours. Your mother took your phone and any freedom you thought you had. It was fine though, at least those girls made it home, you didn't have to worry, yet they were still occupying your mind.

Much less they and more like, him. He was running through your mind, over and over you replayed your interaction feeling more and more embarrassed everytime you think about what you did. You felt your heart beat faster when you hear him repeat the words, "you're amazing".

You didn't think you'd see him again, but you did. It was spring, the flowers were blooming, bees were buzzing, birds chirping, sun shining as beautifully as ever and the only thing you could think about was that boy. You didn't even get his name. It's crazy how much a first impression will impact you. You wondered if he went to the same school as you, actually, you hoped so, but that would be too much of a coincidence, it will start to seem like you guys were.... Soulmates. You couldn't help but squeal at the idea, how perfect would your life be.

"Snap out of it!" You slapped your face as you stood outside your classroom, you took in deep breaths trying to calm yourself down. Your first class of the day, go in, make good impressions and you'll be able to make friends. You hoped, you prayed you didn't say anything too embarrassing.

The first introduction went smoothly, despite stuttering a couple of times. You even got a few numbers from some girls in the class who liked the way you did your hair. Things were going great, only, your dream boy wasn't here. Why would he be? Stop being so hopeful for things that will never happen.

You made your way to the home economics club making a delivery for your teacher who was too busy grading papers to make the delivery himself. You had no problem doing it, it was lunch break and you had nothing better to do after all. Maybe you could make some more friends, plus side you could check out the club and see if it's something you want to do. After all, you always wanted to be a model, might as well see what this club is like.

You carried boxes that were twice your height but quite light despite the size of them. You could barely see the door but you could see the class number. Now onto the problem you now have, how to open the door, you held the boxes with both of your hands. If you even move one hand it will all come toppling down. Then comes, the bright idea. You stood there trying to open the door with your foot, trying your hardest not to fall over due to lack of balance.

You should've taken those yoga classes with your mom! Curses.

It wasn't long till the door opened up, your ears perked hearing the sound.

"Wow, you're carrying a lot, you could've called out I would've came sooner." You heard a soft voice speak out, it was smooth like honey yet deep. Whoever this voice belonged to was blessed.

"Sorry! I didn't want to disturb anyone....." You mutter softly.

"Come on in, let me help you." He spoke reaching to grab some of your boxes.

"Nu-huh, I got it!" You chirped back, you heard him laugh softly as you felt his hand touch your back as he guided you into the room, his touch oh-so soft. Normally you would feel uncomfortable with this but with him, it felt okay. Felt nice actually.

You swatted these thoughts following the guide of his hand.

"You can set them here." He stated talking half of your boxes setting them down on the table.

"Hey, I said I had-" Finally you could see, and thank god you could. You locked eyes with your prince. The boy from the park. Both of your eyes widened as it hit you guys.

"You're the guy from the park!"

"You're the girl from the park!"

You both yelled out, you could only laugh at accusations you yelled at the same time.

"Wow, who knew we'd end up in the same school?" Talk about fate." He smiled.

His smile was so bright, just like that day you met. He hasn't changed. He's so pretty....

"Y-Yeah, fate.." You cursed yourself for the person you became when you were around him, your voice felt soft and weak. Your face constantly felt hot, your heart beating out of your chest. Was it...

Love at first sight?

"You know, I never caught your name." He speaks out trying to lightening the mood after seeing your awkward disposition, slightly fidgeting your fingers, twirling the heel of your foot.

"Right! I never caught yours either, I'm Y/n Kataga!" You replied cheerfully with a huge smile that blinded him. He held his hand out to shake yours,

"Takashi Mitsuya, pleasure to meet you Y/n." He smiled back, you looked at his hand and shook it.

That was the start of something bigger than the both of you. You both became close very quickly, bonding over your love of fashion and modeling. He introduced you to his friends, mother, re-introducing you to his sisters, officially. They were so happy to see you again, soon enough you guys were like a small family.

You learned all about him through stories from Chifuyu and Draken, you knew about Toman and his past gang life, how he raised his sisters, you knew all of it. You felt special, even though you weren't present during that time, you felt as if you were there with him. It was perfect and you would cherish these stories forever.

Mitsuya learned everything about you, much less from asking and more by observing. He learned how stressed you'd get when meeting new people, how you bit your lip while concentrating, how you fidget your fingers and advert your eyes in the cutest way when you were feeling shy. He learned it all. He loved learning more about you, you were like a book he couldn't put down. You, Y/n had him completely obsessed, wrapping around your perfect little finger.

One day you told him about how you wanted to be a model, then and there he proposed you model for him and only him. He'd make you beautiful clothes that match your style and you wear them for him.

Of course you agreed, his designs are gorgeous. He's really talented, and now you had an excuse to be around him more. Not like you needed one, all it took was one text and he would be running to you, wherever you were.

Fourth year of highschool, final year, Mitsuya was going to the College of Designs and you had a job opportunity to work under famous models. You were separating, and only after a year of being together. You haven't even confessed yet. To be honest you didn't even know if you should, what if you ruined what you had. You didn't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship, but you wanted to be more than friends. You wanted more than hugs when he dropped you off, you needed more than your hand gently brushing against his. You deserved more than unnoticed glances at him when he was too busy making designs to notice your stares.

But he did, he noticed it all. He knew, kind of. He had a suspicion, after all Hina was whispering things to him about you and your little secret crush. It came out a few months back that you liked this guy but refused to say who he was. You only gave vague details about him, but in those details he saw himself, maybe he was being overzealous but he prayed it was him you liked and not some other guy. Only he could treat you like the princess you were, you were his since the day he met you.

"Y/n, wanna go to the park?" He asked pointing to the small park across the street.

"That's...." You said as you walked towards the park. You glided your finger against the slide where you first found Mana and Luna crying their eyes out.

You made your way over to the swing where you sat down softly smiling at the memories. When you first fell in love.

"Yeah, where we first met." Mitsuya smiled sat the memory, he walked behind you. Taking your hands and placing them on the chains holding the swing up. You got used to these soft touches, you hated them. They were the touches that could lead to more but never did, you despised them but took whatever you could get. You were greedy, you couldn't help it. Mitsuya began pushing you on the swing, comfortable silence fell over the two of you, you felt the wind softly brush against your face as he pushed you at just the right pace, the night moon looking more beautiful than it has before, maybe it's because you're with him.

"You were cute back then." Mitsuya spoke up.

"What? Saying I'm not cute now?" You scoff at his claim. Feigning to be hurt.

"Not what I'm saying." He rolled his eyes, you were his little drama queen.

"Then what are you saying Mr. Takashi Mitsuya?" You asked looking behind you to lock eyes with the man pushing you. He had that look in his eyes, the one he has when he's sketching clothes or working on bringing his design to life, the eyes of complete concentration and admiration. He leaned down, holding either of your eyes with his own bracing himself. He locked his lips with yours without a single word, not even a warning. His lips were slightly cracked yet soft. The kiss was one that told you everything.

"I've always loved you."

Since that day, it was official. You were his and he was yours. You were a picture perfect relationship, arguments were rare with him, he was kind, considerate, supportive. He was just perfect. You took each others' firsts and planned on taking everything from each other till their was nothing left.

Like said before, arguments were rare. Only sparking when Mitsuya wasn't talking care of himself like he should have been to finish a project, or you put yourself at risk for your career.

Arguments weren't a thing with you two, but when it happened, they were heated and here you two are, present day. Hashing it out.

"And I'm telling you I can protect myself!" You shouted at your lover who had his arms crossed peering at you over the kitchen counter.

"It doesn't matter if you can protect yourself or not, he's dangerous." He spat back completely ignoring your statement.

"He's not dangerous, he's an awkward kid trying to get his product out there," you groaned frustrated at your lover, "you know what that's like..." You mumble.

"Yeah, I do, but at least I wasn't shady." He gruffed, rolling his eyes.

"Mitsuya! He's not shady. Ugh!" You exclaimed throwing your hands in the air.

"You're in denial. You're not doing it. Period." He said the turning around no longer facing you, diverting his attention to the food on the stove.

"You don't tell me what I can and can not do." You pettily said walking out of the room and into your own slamming the door. You plopped onto your bed screaming into your pillow. Pissed at how stubborn he could be. You laid face first into the pillow not moving, until you got a ding on your phone. It was a text, you lifted your head to check your phone.

Aykoyama

"This Monday, 8am? How does that sound? 🙂"

Aykoyama, a new designer, you met him on a photoshoot and exchanged numbers. Normally you wouldn't model for anyone other than Mitsuya but you figured once wouldn't hurt. Besides, you need to build your clientele as a model, you would want him to branch out with different models as well. It's for work, nothing more.

Y/n

I'm sorry, I don't think I can anymore-

"You don't tell me what I can and can not do"

'Fuck you Mitsuya' you thought, time to build your clientele you smiled softly to yourself.

Y/n

Sounds great! Can't wait to see what you have in stored!! 😁

You know you didn't do anything wrong, it's not like you cheated on Mitsuya or anything, yet... Why do you feel so shitty.

You curled up in bed feeling as if you burned down an orphanage, the guilt was killing you.

Over the course of the week you and Mitsuya haven't been talking. You both went to work, lived your life as if the other person didn't exist. It was more you holding a grudge and Mitsuya giving you your space. He'd simply sigh when you would leave the room after he'd enter it, or how you would sleep on the couch to stay away from him.

Slowly it started to piss him off, who the hell said you could ignore him? He's just worried about you. You'll get over it, he'll apologize and you'll say sorry back. Soon you'll be in his arms again waiting for your daily kisses. Like normal.

Yet that time didn't come, what did come was the event. You left the house earlier than excepted, earlier than Mitsuya ever woke up.

He woke up to an empty bed, which has been this week's normal, he checked the time on his phone, 12:50 pm, he slept pretty late today.

No matter, it was his off day. He yawned with a stretch, pushing himself off the bed to check to couch and you weren't there. Matter of fact, there was no sign that you even slept there.

The house was void of all signs of life besides the small signs of his existence that he left laying around the house. He checked his phone to see if you left any message yet you haven't. Now he's worried. He sighs and texts your manager, Polly.

Boss's hubby

Have you seen Y/n?

Read 1:03 pm

"What the hell?" He mumbled to himself running his free hand through his hair.

Boss's hubby

Polly?

Wifey's manager

Sorry! I was busy doing Y/n hair! But she's here with me, we're getting ready for the Gala tonight, you should come 🤧

Boss's hubby

Gala?

Wifey's manager

She didn't tell you? She must've forgot, silly her. Shes helping Mr. Aykoyama With his debut today at tonight's Gala!

He couldn't believe it, you deliberately hide the fact that you were still working with him after he told you not to. It's safe to say he was livid, which is rare. Mitsuya is a calm man, after raising two little girls he had to be, you were one of the only people who knew how to push his buttons and do it correctly.

Boss's hubby

She must've, send me the address and the best time to arrive

Wifey's manager

Of course! The theme is "Golden shine" here's the address;

Read 1:20 pm

The time read 6:30 pm, just five minutes before the red carpet walk, you were sweating buckets. The event was fairly small but had a lot of big faces there in the modeling and designing industry. You couldn't help but be hit with a huge wave of guilt when you thought about what you're doing.

You snuck behind his back to go to a Gala, with another man, after he told you not to. Maybe you did it out of spite or you wanted to prove something but this looks bad all the way around. You're even wearing someone else's dress, you promised. You promised to only wear his clothes.. But you can't deny, the kid has talent. You look breath taking and Polly did a stunning job on your hair and makeup.

Your hair was put into a low bun with a deep side part. Your makeup was light but effective, you had soft red lips with a neutral soft glam brown and yellow look that complimented your eyes perfectly, and the dress.... Lord.

The way it framed your body, showing off each all your curves, the way it instantly perked up your breasts, cupping them like a corset would. It was a great dress but, it wasn't Mitsuya's. As you wore the dress you didn't feel that rush of excitement that you felt when you wore your lover's clothes. You felt tainted wearing this, it made you want to rip it off your body, but this is your job. This is what you signed up for as a model. You can't back out...

"Carpet time in minus 5 minutes!" One of the crew members shouted into the changing room for the models and other crew members to hear.

"You ready?" Polly asked popping up behind you out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of you causing you to shake.

"Didn't mean to scare ya. Nerves?" She questions holding your hand to try and comfort you.

"Yeah... First time doing this." You muttered staring down at the floor feeling almost lightheaded.

"Don't worry, you'll do great." She cheers you on, "Besides, I invited your fiance so you don't have to worry." She smiles giving you the finger heart sign, clearly proud of what she did.

"You did what!?" You shouted softly gripping her shoulders, "Why did you do that?"

"Because he should be here to support you? Is everything okay?" She asks now worried looking at your form.

"Carpet time people, let's go!" The same crew member shouted. The models get up making their way to the door.

"You too Y/n!" The crew member calls you out after not moving. Polly pushes you wishing you a good luck to the door.

You had to calm down, you had to do well. You have to do well not only for yourself but for Mr. Aykoyama. You can't let your personal life get in the way of your work, you're a professional Y/n. Act like it.

You are one of the last people to get on stage, you grab your umbrella prop and begin to sway your hips as you walked down the stage. You looked over to the side to meet eyes with the patrons there, you meet eyes with a happy Mr. Aykoyama who's giving you thumbs up and a not so happy Mitsuya who's leaning forward in his seat, his elbows on either side of his knees with his hands clenched together.

He just watches you, stares you down, your every move, the sway of your hip, the way you averted your eyes when you saw him.

You met the end of the stage and did put a hand on your hip, the other hand pulling the umbrella back giving the lookers a closer, more clearer view of the dress that was on your body. You tried you best to be professional, to focus on your job, but the way Mitsuya glared at you, you could feel your core heating up. You were honestly terrified.

You spun on your heels turning around to leave the stage as the onlookers clapped cheering your name. Mitsuya didn't move a muscle, he just flashed a tight close eyed smile your way.

You're fucked.

The event couldn't seem to go any slower, Mitsuya was standing behind you with his hand on your back gripping your waist shining a soft smile towards the fellow designers there. He hasn't said a single word, just holding a death grip on your waist as you socialize with the people there.

"Y/n! You were amazing out there!" Mr. Aykoyama cheered running up to you, he had a glisten in his eyes, his smile was so wide.

"It was all thanks to your design, it's stunning." You said returning his smile.

"No-no, I can't take all the credit... The way you strutted down the runway with grace and ease, everybody was enchanted by you.." He scans your body blatantly ignoring your lover's presence.

"She is beautiful isn't she?" Mitsuya interjects, holding his hand out towards the younger man standing in front of him, "Takashi Mitsuya, senior designer." He introduced himself with a smile that seems genuine at first glance yet his filled with annoyance and slight anger. It's a smile that could kill a man.

Mitsuya has mastered the art of passive aggressiveness, especially working in the fashion department, he had to learn or he would be eaten alive.

"A-ah, yes! I'm Aykoyama Lin!" He shakes his hand. The young man winces at the grip your fiance had on his hand, "Firm grip! My father would love you." He laughed and Mitsuya joined only entertaining his bullshit until the event was over.

"Thank you for giving my beloved fiance here the opportunity to work with you. However, she must politely decline any future work with you." Mitsuya pulls you by your waist closer to him, you could only blush looking down at the ground.

"Excuse me?" He glared at Mitsuya, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Ah, well, there's no reason for her to work with you any further, after all...." He pauses, "She has me." He gruffed out, "Now if you'll excuse us, my princess seems to feel sick. We'll return the dress immediately."

"No, no, that's not necessary, she can keep it!" He beamed. Mitsuya just flared at him, taking his anger out on your already bruised hips, tightening his grip on your waist.

Mitsuya said nothing else, he turned around and guided you out the building. He walked you to the car garage. He swiftly pushed you against a random wall in the parking garage, pushing you by your hips. Smashing his lips against yours, taking your breath from your mouth with his own, the grip on your waist lightened up but was soon taken over by the same pressure being around your neck. You gasped into the kiss as you felt his hand ring around your neck. His tongue pushed further into your mouth exploring your mouth, swirling his tongue with your own.

He applied more pressure to your neck as he deepened the kiss. You both pulled away to gain air, your chests heaving trying to pull oxygen back into your body.

"S-Suya—" You moaned out.

"Take it off." He gruffed out of breath.

"What?" You questioned him, looking baffled.

"You heard me, take the dress off. I'm not fucking you with another man's design on you." He spat. You must've been taking too long, Mitsuya span you around making your back face him, he unzipped the dress, gently removing your arms from the sleeves before pulling it down.

There you stood, practically naked in a parking garage, you thanked the stars that you left early, it seemed to be only the two of you. You felt the cold air hit you like a tidal wave, goosebumps covered your body as you wrapped our arms around your most delicate places.

How shameful, you should be ashamed. Embarrassed, disgusted, yet there was a pooling in your panties that said otherwise, Mitsuya was never aggressive with you, he treated you like a precious China set, something to be protected. Now you felt like nothing more than a cheapened slut.

"Such a slutty little thing, you didn't wear a bra?" He whispered into your ear, licking your neck before biting it, leaving small bruises. You felt Mitsuya cup your breast from behind, massaging your nipples in between his fingers, the cold air aided in making them hard under his touch.

"W-Was told not to— Ah." Moaning out as he caressed your breasts and biting your neck.

"You're enjoying this hm? Being violated in a parking lot, here I thought you enjoyed being pampered..." He ranted on, "Being treated like a princess, if you wanted to be treated like a cock hungry slut you should've just said that." He cooed, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder.

"Don't wanna be treated like a slut.. Suya." You mumbled, feeling his hot breath against your shoulder, his gentle kisses, knowing this was the last time tonight that he would be this kind.

He turned you around, taking his suit jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, buttoning just the middle of the jacket.

"Wouldn't want you to catch a cold before I finished with you."

Your body felt hot, hotter than ever. Your panties getting wetter by the minute. He walked you to his car with his hand back on it's designated place, your hips. Digging into his right pocket with his free hand to grab his car keys. He unlocked the car door, opening the passenger side for you. He tossed you in the seat, muttering a buckle up before closing the door and getting in himself.

As soon as he got into his seat, he grabbed you by your hair, pushing your face towards his own, locking his lips with yours once again. He licked your lips with your tongue signalling you to open your mouth further. Moaning into the kiss as Mitsuya made his way to your wet panties.

"Soaking are we?" He chuckled into the kiss, pushing your panties to the side prodding his finger at your entrance. You struggled to kiss him back as his finger pushed passed your tight entrance, moving at a gentle pace, hitting all the right places. You moaned louder as you felt his finger curl inside you hitting your G-spot ever so softly with the tip of his finger.

"I've barely done anything to you doll... You can last longer than that can't you?"

He pushed another finger past your entrance, scissoring them together inside of you. You gripped his hair trying your best to continue the pace of the kiss but struggling as he was teasing your hole. You broke the kiss,

"Suya! R-Right there—" You moaned as he moved his fingers in and out, pushing them against your G-spot just before taking them out all to do it again, inching you towards your orgasm,

"M'gonna cum Suya~" You purred out. Arching your back wanting to feel more of his fingers. "Close, m'so close...."

Just before you were able to have your high he pulled out, before you could protest he shoved his fingers in your mouth muffling you.

"You thought it was gonna be easy? Hm? Whoring yourself out to another designer, going behind my back? What makes you think you should cum?"

He shoves his fingers down your throat forcing you to gag on his slender digits.

"Bad girls like you should be punished, not rewarded." He pulls his fingers from your throat watching you cough catching air, he pulls your face towards his once more before, forcing your mouth open with his thumb before spitting in your mouth.

"Swallow." With that you struggled to gulp down his saliva, yet you did, with the bob of your throat you swallowed what he gave you. Opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him that you swallowed it all, hoping he'd praise you.

"What? Wanna be praised for doing the bare minimum? You're gonna have to do a lot more than that. Now spread your legs."

You opened your legs further allowing him a full view of your soaking area, he brushed his hand past your clit, only to reach into his glove compartment. He pulled out a small pink bullet vibrator, he looked at you with a closed eye smile. He teasingly poked your entrance with the toy, nudging you with just the tip. You let out a soft hum of pleasure as the vibrator brushed across you.

You were so aroused you couldn't handle it, you just wanted him to fuck you, pin you down and use you however he wanted to. Your walls clenched at the thought of being his ragdoll.

"What are you dousing off for?" He scoffed in annoyance before pushing the vibrator in, "You better not make a mess in my car. If you go the entire ride without cumming, I'll fuck you. If not, you'll go to sleep without feeling my cock inside this slutty pussy of yours."

"T-Thats just mean Suya—" Being cut off by the vibrator turning on, feeling it deep in your core. The pleasure was immense, it felt so good, so deep inside of you. You bit your finger muffling your moans, not wanting to show Mitsuya how good it felt. You couldn't cum yet.

"What? Gonna cum already?" He cooed rubbing your clit with his fingers, whispering against your neck, peppering you with small kisses. "You can do it, go ahead princess, cum." He encouraged you, he wanted you to suffer. He was pissed despite how sweet he cooed at you.

"D-Dont wanna! Wanna cum on your cock Suya!" Your back arched as he picked up the pace on your sensitive nub.

"Yeah? Wanna cum all over my cock? Wanna feel it deep inside you?"

"Yes Suya, m'wanna feel you inside, only you."

He moved his face away from your neck, the movement on your clit stopped.

"Then you better not cum before we get home."

The drive home was long and excruciating. Mitsuya purposely grazed your clit or breasts to amplify your pleasure, trying to get you to lose yourself and have an orgasm. You were fighting it so hard.

The car was filled with your soft moans and whispers, you chanted his name begging him to turn down the vibrator, it was too much. You couldn't handle it, he only replied telling you,

"If you want my cock then you'll be a good girl and hold it in."

And so you did. He purposely took the long way home, followed and obeyed every traffic law to the T. He even had the audacity to make a pit stop to get some more fabric while he made you wait in the car.

You couldn't help but cry as you forcefully help in your upcoming orgasm. Tears ran down your face, Mitsuya cooed at you caressing your face kissing your tears away. You were doing good, you were doing well, so well. You watched as Mitsuya pulled into your driveway feeling great relief.

Your relief was brief, as he parked in the driveway you felt his fingers push the vibrator further into you.

You arched your back, letting out a loud moan in response.

He had that look in his eyes. His orbs were focused on you entirely, watching your every facial expression. The way your eyebrows furrowed together, your mouth agape, the way you put your fingers to your lips trying to muffle your own moans.

He selfishly captured your lips in a kiss once again, sucking on your tongue, exploring your mouth as if he's never tasted you before. His free hand turned up the power of the vibrator.

"Suya— too much! I don't wanna-" You panicked at the rush of pleasure.

"Then don't."

You couldn't help it, you were doing so well, so well... All of those efforts gone as you released onto the vibrator, your juices dripping out of you as you closed your legs tightly letting out a prolonged moan, coming to your release.

Mitsuya clicked his tongue as he watched you come undone on the vibrator. Your chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath after having such an intense orgasm.

"N-No, unfair! Suya, please." You pleaded gripping his dress shirt,

"How unfortunate, we just made it home too.." He sighed, looking down at his hardened cock confined in his dress pants. Bringing your shaky hand to feel his cock through his pants,

"It was all ready for you too, at least you got to cum hm?" He smiled, before helping you get out of the car and bringing you inside the house, placing you on the couch. He undoes his tie and kicks off his shoes, leaving you a broken mess on the couch.

"I'm going to shower first okay?" He chirps as kissing your forehead before leaving.

"Suya please!" You cried out, "M'sorry, m'so sorry" You begged as he walked off,

"Princess, don't be a brat. You knew the deal, you agreed to it."

"Please don't leave me like this, I— need you..." You walked up to him pressing your breast against his back, "Need you so bad.."

He hummed in response,

"Now why should I? Last time I checked, I told you not to work with Mr. Aykoyama didn't I? You didn't listen, you wanted to do your own thing, surely you can cum on your own." He smiled as he faced you. That same smile he has plastered on his face all night, the one that says he's pissed but not showing it.

"You even went as far as ignoring me, sneaking behind my back.." He trails off, wrapping his hand around your throat, "Why should I do anything for you?"

"... Y-Youre right, Suya, I was being stubborn, I didn't listen like I should have... M'sorry, it won't happen again." You cried out, coming down to your knees slowly rubbing his entrapped cock with your hand. "Never again, will be your good girl." You promised as you undid his belt buckle, working your way to his zipper. "I love you Suya... Love you so much."

"You want it so bad? Do it yourself." He spat while watching you pull down his pants, he unbuttoned his shirt to get more comfortable, you were still in his suit jacket before telling you to take it off.

And you did, along with your panties.

You kissed his pelvis making your way down to the hem of his underwear, the final layer before meeting with his harden cock. Despite being angry he could never say no to your pretty mouth, his cock always told you want he truly wanted even if his mouth didn't.

You pulled down the final layer, his cock sprung out gently hitting your face. You stared at it like it was the greatest thing in the world. Your eyes sparkled as you saw it, you began kissing it from the hilt up to the tip.

Even his cock looked angry, pale base color with light blue veins pulsating against your lips.

#tokyo revengers mitsuya #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #mitsuya smut #mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya

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serpentandthreads · 2 years

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Lately I've had a few people ask me about how I started my craft, what resources I can recommend and what it is that I do now. I don't think I can give a short answer for this because my journey has been a complex one. The easiest way to put it: if you have been practicing magic for a long period of time, and your craft looks the exact same as when you started, you haven't progressed as much as you think. I'll get into what I mean by this after I tell y'all a little about my own journey.

Most of my family are Christians to some degree, though not all of them are as passionate about their religious beliefs as others. Personally, I didn't like going to church as a kid. The most I liked about it was being around other kids, though I never had any serious friendships. Despite some of the more shameful Christians in my family, others had a more open view of religion. Some of the older folks in my family have gifts, or what some of y'all would call "psychic abilities". I ended up inheriting these gifts.

I've always had a certain level of curiosity about religion, spirituality and the occult. I've always been superstitious. I didn't know much about the occult until my brother's ex-wife came along. I remember her having a bunch of crystals on a massive altar in her room. I'm not totally sure if she was Wiccan or something else, but regardless I knew she was into something magical. That was my first experience seeing something like that, but my own interest in magic didn't come along for another couple of years.

A little over three years ago is when I took up divination and magic myself. I bought my first tarot deck and started studying magic. I had heard about folk magic early on, but when I read about the Christian aspects, I rejected it. I was on the bandwagon of "anything related to Christianity is garbage and there cannot be Christian stuff in magic ew". I started off with all of the basic things that float around the internet: burning bay leaves, crystals, appropriated practices like chakras and burning white sage... It wasn't good. I've learned my lesson with that.

I dabbled with a lot of things for about a year and a half. Although candle magic worked well for me, almost everything else was mediocre. Results I got were either nonexistent or not nearly what I wanted to achieve. I started looking to social media, especially discord servers, to help me figure out where to go from there.

It was around that time when I circled back to folk magic. I still hesitated due to many variations of folk magic involving Christian aspects. I do have religious trauma, so anything Christian was a red flag to me. I decided to keep reading about different variations of folk magic, though, because it was the only thing that consistently kept my attention. It was around this time when I finally started to come to terms to my trauma and understand that Christianity is still a valid religion.

While I was looking for books and other resources, I came across a person on discord who practices Appalachian folk magic. I had never seen a person on discord claim to practice this type of folk magic. The Appalachia has always felt like home to me, and it has become my home now. For those of you who don't know a thing about folk magic, here is a link to my post explaining it. I don't think folk magic is for everybody, and my post about folk magic will give you an idea on why that is.

I decided to reach out to this person, and she turned out to be pretty friendly. Locals in the Appalachia tend to be skeptical of outsiders for a variety of reasons. Appalachia has a long history of outsiders coming in and causing trouble. Between the coal mining industry, disrespectful tourists and harmful stereotypes... They are within their right to be skeptical.

This person is still a good friend to me, and she was kind enough to share some resources and teach me some things about Appalachian folk magic. I'd say she's pretty damn close to being family to me in some ways.

Now, anybody who knows anything about folk magic knows that folk magic looks pretty different from a lot of these new age practices. To say my craft looks different now compared to when I started is an understatement. Not only has my craft changed, but so have my beliefs.

Going back to what I said in my initial statement about your craft... If your craft looks the exact same as you started after a few years, you're probably not progressing as much as you think. I'm not saying you have to be an old school folk practitioner or a high priestess or whatever else there is. What I am saying is a lot of the "basic information" you will find on the internet probably won't apply to you once you've stepped out of your comfort zone to try something a little different.

I feel like there is an expectation that beginners must start with the same generic infographics that the magic community shares. There is also an expectation that most practices and concepts are "too much" for beginners to be dabbling with. I say most of the people who say this are power hungry and spewing bullshit.

And before any of you who want to come at me for this, I was one of you before. I know what kind of words y'all like to use to scare beginners and keep them in their little bubble. If you don't realize that you are power tripping, that is on you.

That's how my craft started and progressed. I can't really share any specific resources because most of the resources I would share probably won't apply to most of y'all. A lot of what I've learned has been heavily based on folklore, superstition, culture, psychology and other things that aren't exactly "magical".

Consider some of the things I've said here, because some of you have a lot of untapped potential. Even if you don't actively practice something, let your curiosity guide you and see where you go. Know your boundaries, though... Don't tamper with closed practices if you know that they aren't for you.

#witchbr #witchcraft #folk magic #beginner witch #witchcraft 101 #witchcraft basics #magick

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dinner-djarin · 3 years

Text

dar'manda (Mando x f!reader insert)

Prologue

(Inspired by this scene)

Summary: You've been working as a merchant on Nevarro for years now, only out of necessity. Life really wasn't going your way. At least until the Mandalorian came by your booth. Now he's all you think about, and soon he'll be even more.

Warnings: Probably some swearing (real and in universe), violence (eventually), smut (eventually), No use of Y/N, slowburn/fluff (for the first little while)

Notes: Takes place at the end of season 1, and will mostly take place between season one and two. I have been sitting on this for a while due to some fear about reception by the fandom, but honestly I just need to stop thinking about it so here we go. She's going out into the world, and I hope you enjoy. (Also I wrote this prologue like 2 months ago so it isn't quite where I'd like it to be but if you read this please just stick with me, I swear my writing gets better lol)

You don’t know how long it’s been since you last saw him. Weeks? Months? But you can’t get that damn tin can out of your head.

You really have no reason to be this hung up on him. He’s barely spoken to you, you’ve never even seen his face, so it should be easy enough to move on from whatever childish infatuation you have over him. Right? Maker, what kind of person crushes on a mask and a suit of armour?

But there’s something about him, something that keeps him planted in your subconscious. You’ve tried to find the words to explain it, but nothing ever comes close. You can't even begin to understand how this man has completely overtaken your every waking thought.

He used to come by every couple of weeks, and you’d savour every delectable minute of the interaction, but that was all before shit hit the fan of course. You weren't there to see it but when you came back to work the next day it was all anyone could talk about.

“Apparently the metal man broke some Guild rule, and practically all of the other bounty hunters tried to kill him for it.” You heard over your shoulder. As much as you liked to keep to yourself, you couldn’t help form eavesdropping on a conversation between merchants. You did have a guilty pleasure for drama, probably to fill the uneventful void that your mundane life had now become.

“The Mandalorian? He broke their code then!” one exclaimed.

“I heard he went back for a bounty,” someone else whispered.

“What could make someone do something so stupid?” questioned a merchant lady you already didn’t particularly like.

“He doesn’t strike me as stupid,” you interrupt, trying to stick up for the man you were currently enamoured with. “If he did it, there must be a valid reason.”

“If he did it?” She sneered. “Do you not see the damage he left behind? People will be out of business for sure. It’ll take weeks to clean up the mess he made.”

“Then I guess I hope it was worth it. That it wasn't in vain.” You state, putting an end to the conversation. You hoped the man – that you already liked against your better judgement – wouldn’t cause so much harm without some justification.

In the wake of his rebellion, a covert of other masked hunters revealed themselves, shot up the town, and then vanished without a word. And so did your Mandalorian.

Woah hold on. Not yours. Just one random Mandalorian that you’ve said a handful of words to and have harboured a secret crush over.

From the second you saw him you pretty much knew you were screwed. Between the husky modulated voice, and the broad as hell shoulders, there was pretty much no way to quell the instant attraction that rose up in you. His presence alone was suffocating. Nothing could stop the way your vocal cords tightened to the point of forcing out a soft squeal at his sight. The whole time he talked to you, you could feel his visor latch onto your body – pinning you to the spot.

You thought you might find some relief when he left. Quite the opposite. You couldn't help but gawk at the way his body moved, like he knew he was hot shit. He took your damn breath away. And you were glad to know that he couldn't see your lips part to let out a soft moan, or the way they pursed back together as you unconsciously swallowed the suddenly copious amount of saliva pooling in your mouth. Fucking delicious, you thought, shamelessly.

Maybe it was the fact that you knew he could take anyone down in milliseconds. He was untouchable, and this latest defiance proved that. No one crossed the Guild. Well, no one crossed the Guild and got away with it. But if anyone could, it would be Mando.

And there’s another thing. You don’t even know his name. Which means that you’re forced to call him the colloquial slang that is commonly used by outsiders of the Mandalorian culture. “Mando”. You couldn’t help but think about how it almost sounded like an insult, especially when slurred from the mouth of other criminals. You hated the way people spat the word out at him, obviously trying to get him worked up; to see what he was made of. It made you desperately wish that you had a better name to call him, his real name. An intimate piece of knowledge that you could hold on to, something of him that no one else had.

Maybe that made you selfish. Even so, there was so much you wished you knew about him. He was a complete mystery.

To be fair, he probably didn’t even know your own name. You can't recall him asking for it, or if you ever introduced yourself. You were pretty much a bumbling mess the first time you met him. To the point where even if you had tried to say your name it probably would have sounded like you were speaking Huttese. Although, who could blame you. It wasn’t very conventional to introduce yourself to every customer. The people on Nevarro usually kept to themselves, especially the bounty hunters. There wasn’t much room for ‘customer service’. But damn you wish you had tried to make some sort of introduction. Even if it had come out as incoherent nonsense, you think it may have made talking to him later a bit easier.

However, none of that matters if he never comes back, and you bet he won’t. He’s smarter than that. To pull what he did, he’s probably on the other side of the galaxy right now.

Even so, you’ll miss the shared awkward silences and stolen glances that came with each of his visits. Whenever he’d come into the shop, he’d list off what he needed to stock up on, using the most deep and captivating voice you think you’d ever heard. If he hadn’t had that helmet covering his face, you’d swear he stared right into your soul as he did so. It almost made you weak in the knees every damn time. You’d then rummage through each supply crate and gather the best quality of every item, and finally – just to bring your humiliation to an all-time high – you’d give him a discount for absolutely no discernible reason. He took notice of the reduced price the first time and thanked you, only for you to be berated by your boss once he left. Eventually, to your dismay, the niceties came to a halt. Maybe he forgot what full price was, maybe he just couldn’t care less.

Either way, it looks like you’d risked your job for the last time. It’s a shame. For a planet full of bounty hunters and hardened criminals, there’s actually not a lot to entertain you. A shootout here, an escaped bounty there, but nothing that satisfied your desire for an exciting lifestyle.

The closest you got to that would be each time some wide-eyed, eager, wannabe-bounty-hunter strolled through town looking for a chance to weasel their way up the ladder of the Guild. They definitely thought they were more important than they actually were, and they always made a point of showing off for you. Not that you were anything special, just the closest thing with cleavage usually. They’d probably brag about their rank and their kill counts, things you could not care less about. A few of them actually had the balls to ask you out, but it usually only ended in a free meal or drink. To be fair though that was very intentional on your part. It was fun to play the part of a flirtatious girl from the market for a while, and almost exciting to think about how you were completely screwing over those assholes.

Over the time you’ve spent alone in the galaxy you learned exactly how to read those kinds of people. You knew just how far to go, just what to say or do until you got what you needed. As much as you weren’t a fan of physical affection, you often brushed your target's arm or thigh, played with their hair, or if the situation really demanded it – madeout with them behind the cantina. But you always made a point of stopping before things got too far. You may not be a complete saint, but you knew none of the scumbags you met were worth your time.

You wouldn’t have allowed things to go any further. Not with them. Going any further could only be a letdown, and you were fine to take those matters into your own hands…. literally. You may be a complete flirt, but only as a skill to survive in this grimy and dangerous galaxy. You learned early on that being young and female was a vulnerability. That was at least until you discovered how that vulnerability could be shaped into one of your most valuable strengths.

When you think about him though… well something about him made your entire badass facade disappear into thin air. You lost any cool you had the minute he walked past your vendor. Not to mention that there was something else about him that told you he’d see right through it anyway. Maybe it was the visor. Some special setting to read the level of bullshit.

As far as you’ve seen, he doesn’t take anyone’s shit. He definitely isn’t the type to make others feel comfortable in a conversation. He says precisely what he needs to get his point across, nothing more. Never once had you heard him use more than 10 words at a time.

On a few occasions you were lucky enough to end up in the cantina at the same time as him. Whether you were on a break or entertaining some dead-beat for free lunch, you remember how fast your heart would beat when the glint of his helmet met your vision. You wondered if he noticed your presence, or if he even recognized you away from your vendor at the market.

One time you were in the next booth over. Your spine straightened, and your whole body shivered when he slid into his seat and placed himself directly behind you. The proximity was electrifying. It made every neuron in your body fire rapidly and your blood vessels pump impossibly fast. You were probably supposed to be listening to the slimeball buying your drinks drone on about how impressive his last capture was, but the baritone emanating from behind ensnared every ounce of focus you had.

“I’ll take the highest pay” he muttered through the modulator.

“I do have other hunters, Mando. I can’t always guarantee you get the best of the lot.” replied his employer. A smile maintained on his face even when confronting an unforgiving barricade.

“I’m sure you do. But high price means high risk.” Mando responded. His employer’s confused silence forced him to continue. “Those skilled enough to take on the bounties know better than to do so.”

The Guild leaders' laughter bounced off the walls making many patrons turned their heads, while others continued their business, obviously being used to this behaviour.

You were left puzzled in that moment, completely baffled by this interaction. It wasn't until much later that night when it finally clicked. Although you didn’t know exactly how ranking in the Guild worked, you knew Mando was up there. He had the status to strike fear into almost every other bounty hunter he outranked. Mando had staked his claim long ago, and no one in the Guild was stupid enough to try and take a bounty from him. If he wanted something, he was going to get it.

You’d remember that interaction vividly. Not only because of how close you were to the Mandalorian as you overheard it, but also in service as a reminder to you, proving just how dominant he was in this world. He held power over every member of the Guild, including its leader, whether he wanted to admit it or not. You felt idiotic for not instantly understanding the control he wielded wherever he went. Sometimes it's a wonder how completely oblivious you could be.

Although you certainly were not oblivious to the drastic upgrade he got just before leaving. If you thought Mando was intimidating before, his new head to toe silver armour was sure to strike fear into any of his prey. You remember thinking you saw his reflection pass by earlier in the day, but he quickly dissolved into the shadows, as he often found a way of doing. However, later that night when you had just gotten off from work, he strolled back into the cantina for a new batch of bounties and all eyes were drawn to him. Most eyes were filled with jealousy since – as his employer made clear – he completed the job none of them could. They were probably even more enraged by the fact that he wore his reward back into the room, when most of them would have gladly taken that metal to the highest bidder and sold it for a hefty profit. However, you saw him differently than the rest. Your eyes were fixed on him in fear and in wonder. This metal man, already a force of nature, just became that much more impossible to defeat. As if anything could get to him before, it was clear now that no one could reach the Mandalorian.

But again – it doesn't matter. Not a single soul on Canto Bight would bet his shiny ass walks back into this sector. Not unless he has some kinda death wish…

Turns out he has some kinda death wish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1 is up now!

More notes: Hello there! I hope you enjoyed this lovely mess. I'm not the most proud of it, but I do want to continue this story (which I know we've all read 100 iterations of by now). Either way, I'm having fun writing it, so I might as well post it!

I'd love a like or comment if you'd be willing to share, I'm very new to writing so I'd enjoy any constructive criticism (especially on the first few parts, I know they need work, but at this point I just want to stop thinking about it and continue on with the story). Also this will be ongoing, so if you wanna keep reading feel free to drop your @ in my inbox or in the comments and I can tag you when I update!

So long for now my fellow helmet whores!

#mando x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin #fanfic #pedro pascal #mando #din #the mandalorian s1 #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x you #din djarin x you

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jsio · 3 years

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ANARCHY BERYL

Moebius' precious gemstone

Anarchy Beryl is the Moebius equivalent of Chaos Emeralds, both gems giving the user an immense surge of power, and both opposites. Chaos Emeralds only come in 7, however, Anarchy Beryl is the opposite, there's tons of it, 100s, thousands, maybe millions of pieces of the gem around Moebius.

But yet, Anarchy Beryl is only seen once, and in that one Apprearnce, the design is just bad. Officially in Archie, Anarchy Beryl just looks like the green Chaos Emerald, nothing special about it design wise, and I'm here to change that.

The official design of Anarchy Beryl is the green Chaos Emeralds, but just alot of them, and to me? That's pretty uncreative! So, what did I do to it?

I flipped it. I've made the colour purple instead of green, and created 2 forms of Anarchy Beryl, Refined and Unrefined. So, let's get into the Unrefined Anarchy Beryl first.

Unrefined Anarchy Beryl

This is Anarchy Beryl in its unrefined form, less powerful then the Refined version but far more common, this is his you would find the gem just out in the world. In this state Anarchy Beryl is pretty dangerous, sure it looks nice and would make for a neat decoration, but actually using it would be very, insanely dangerous. The gem like this is pretty unstable, and actually absorbing and using its power could give the user tons of side effects, tons of possible issues to face later in life.

Scourge actually used it, when he went Super, this is what he had stashed in his throne, completely unrefined Anarchy Beryl. The only reason it hasn't ruined his life is thanks to his previous exposure to the Master Emeralds power, it helped null the affects of the Anarchy Beryls issue's. However, if you do survive using the gem, and by the end of your Super transformation, you will lose all your energy, strength and overall just become really weak for a little while.

Refined Anarchy Beryl

This is Anarchy Beryl after it has been refined. In this state Anarchy Beryl is useful, not just for world takeover, but for every day use. Anarchy Beryl like this is what you want to use, because now it works like Chaos Emeralds, Strong and Powerful, while not hurting the user, however it is stronger than the Chaos Emeralds, significantly so. You can teleport farther, Super forms last longer, etc, but because of its increased strength it still causes you to feel weaker per use, and once you come out of your Super form you will be completely worn out, unlike the Chaos Emeralds.

The shape of the Gem matters, it can come in many different shapes, and depending on that changes how strong the gem is in that field. The Anarchy Beryl is great at everything no matter the shape, but the shape makes one area amazing. For example, sharp Anarchy Beryl increases the gem's power, how strong you get from the gem, sharp Anarchy Beryl allows the user to tap into its Super Strength easier. Then there are the Oval ones, these allow easier and stronger access into Anarchy Beryl's Anarchy Force, E.G the equivalent of Shadow's abilities, like teleportation, time manipulation, magical attacks. The next form is the Marquise Anarchy Beryl leans towards the Speed aspect of the Gem, allowing you to react and move significantly faster than before, and for Speedsters (Such as Scourge) it can make them go far beyond their limit. Then the last one I'll talk about here is the Radient Anarchy Beryl, this version of the Gem is best if you're looking for one that focuses on all areas of Anarchy, it's Great in everything, but not amazing in anything, basically it's what you want to start learning how to use Anarchy Beryl with.

Now, there are more types, each different Shape you make Anarchy Beryl into can change the outcome. There's Round, Emerald, Asscher, Princess, Pear and heart left, and I'll leave that up to your guys.

Monarchy Beryl

The Monarchy Beryl, Moebius' Master Emerald. This artifact, this powerful gem, the ruler of Anarchy, hasn't been seen in 100's of years. Why? It was destroyed, in a war, centuries ago.

Back in the old days of Moebius, long before any of the Suppression Squad were born, there was a tribe of Echidna, isolated on Angel Island, the floating Island above the ocean. The tribe were peaceful, looking out for eachother, sworn to pacifism and always willing to help a stranger, they were the guardians, the protectors of the Monarchy Beryl, and it was their God.

Then, the "Land Dwellers" as the Echidna's called them, they were selfish, in it for themselves and wanted power, and there was a race guarding the most powerful thing on the planet, so what did they do? They attacked, they raided Angel Island, they went to war with the Tribes. This war went of the weeks, ending with alot of lives lost, but the Echidna's victory. But...the Land Dweller's were not having this loss. If they can't have the Monarchy Beryl, no-one can.

One last time the Land Dweller's went to Angel Island, but not for a fight, but a terrorist attack. Using new technology they sent a handful of bombers, and sent them straight to the Gem, and, they blew it up, into tiny pieces to broken to ever put the Gem back together. And...we all know what happens when Angel Island's Gem is destroyed...the Island fell, straight into the ocean, the force of the fall, the force of the landing, the tidal waves and all the rubble and destruction caused by this wiped out the majority of the Echidna race. This was a mass extinction event, and, a couple 100 years later, only one Echidna Remains. O'Knux, Sunken Island's protector. And all he wants is to uncover his extinct race's history before he dies, taking the Echidna's with him.

The Monarchy Beryl no longer exists by the time of the Suppression Squad, it's lost to time, only in what little remaining artwork and writing survived the Echidna Extinction. No Chaos, no Tikal, Just Moebians fighting over power.

The history of Anarchy Beryl

Anarchy was Discovered early in Moebius' documented history, thanks to it being naturally stronger in some Moebians, and this lead early philosophicers to believe there was more to it, eventually finding the the rock underground, in mountains, cliffs, even boulders, it was everywhere. They learnt the 2 were connected because the Beryl glowed when In contact with a Moebian strong with the Anarchy Force, and this led to test after test, all culminating with Anarchy Beryl becoming one of Moebius' most expensive gemstones, if not one of the most expensive things, even though it's high in quantity. Anarchy Beryl was tested on lots, and only a couple hundred years after its discovery was it learnt that the gem acts differently when in different shapes, this being used to the advantage of the people. Anarchy Beryl was quickly integrated into every day life, and it still is to this very day.

Before the days of the Suppression Squad, Anarchy Beryl was used as tool for any everyday folk, it being useful for any task, and anyone could use it because it was so easy to get. However, once the Suppression Squad came into the picture, Anarchy Beryl was one of their favourite tools. So, they took it. They took almost all of the world's Anarchy Beryl for themselves and if someone didn't give theirs to them? They'd hurt, maim and make a message out of them, showing they won't have people say no. The Suppression Squad took it for themselves because it allows them to have easy access to Power. However, Once Scourge started going too far, making himself ruler instead of Alicia, taking Actual lives, attacking peaceful people and overall being awful, the Suppression Squad hid the Anarchy Beryl across the globe, and made sure Scourge had no idea where it was, unfortunately for them, he had a stash in his throne.

What actually is "Anarchy" on Moebius?

Anarchy on Moebius is just like Chaos on Mobius, but to the 2 universes, they're looked at differently. Anarchy and Chaos is the mystical energy that allows both universes to exist, it's the all-encompasing energy of the universe. Everyone has it. Scourge has it, Miles has it, even Boomer has it, you could have that power too. These forces are in everyone, stronger in others, it's more or less every magical ability we see in Sonic, for Example, Shadows abilities are Chaos, he has them from his strong connection to the Chaos Force. Same all goes for Moebius, Anarchy and Chaos are the same, just named differently.

Wrap up

Whelp. That's my take on Anarchy Beryl, what did you think? Is it an improvement? Is it a downgrade? What about design wise, do you prefer the official or my designs?

Honestly, I kinda wish we saw it more (wow shocker), but in all seriousness I think it did deserve more time to shine. I'd of loved to see how it was different to Chaos Emeralds, I'd of loved to see how a Mobian reacts to it, stuff like that! The idea of an Anti/opposite Chaos Emerald is neat in my opinion, but like most of Moebius, it was underused and then the lawsuit happened, causing it to be forgotten.

But anyway, thanks for reading! This took me abit, soooo I hope you liked it! Ima leave you with some extra notes now, bye!

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Extras

-Anarchy Beryl is found in clusters.

-Mobians can use it, but it is far weaker on them then it is on Moebians.

-Before the Suppression Squad, Anarchy Beryl was Moebius' most precious Gem.

-The Monarchy Beryl's existence is more of a legend than a fact.

-Sonic Universe's 25 years later "Light Mobius" References an "Anarchy Beryl bomb" located under Castle Mobius.

-It was Referenced in the Sonic Forces tie-in comic, but that actually turned out to just be a coincidence.

-All Anarchy Beryl art was drawn by me

#moebius #Anti-Mobius #Suppression Squad #scourge the hedgehog #chaos emeralds #Sonic #sonic headcanon #my art #Anarchy Beryl #sonic the hedgehog

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