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#no one will write fanfic about this movie either but i DO want to go swimming now
mylittleredgirl · 1 year
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there are many good reasons not to see avatar but if you DO see avatar definitely see the 3D version. the entire movie is effects. same movie as the first one just underwater now. also if you are wearing 3D glasses it is less obvious that you will cry like seven times.
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certainlynotasimp · 10 months
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Walking on Sunshine
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A/N: Hello✨ I realize that my post about Miguel’s height kinda blew up and I kinda wanna try writing a quick little blurb to see if you guys will like it. I been wanting to dove into fanfics, but I’ve been too scared to do so. Please leave some critics for me as I literally just typed this little thing on my phone last night.
Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, established relationship? (It’s kinda up to interpretation how deep you want it to be), no use of Y/n (‘Sunny’ is there nickname’).
I haven’t seen the movie so this maybe inaccurate.
TDLR: Miles is meeting all sorts of new Spider-Men as he adventures the Lobby, but who is ‘Sunny’?
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As Gwen led Miles around the Lobby with Hobie and Jessica, they reached the main area where they were set to meet the leader.
In the distance, the group can hear arguing, which causes the others to sigh as Miles looks to them in confusion.
“Um, what’s all that about?” Miles questions as he listens more closely as they head towards the noise. As they draw closer, he realizes that the argument sounded more like a deep masculine voice fuming while a softer voice attempts to calm them down.
Jessica chuckles and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing, most likely Sunny trying to calm down our fearless leader.”
“Sunny?” Miles quirks an eyebrow as Hobie groans.
“I swear, if Sunny wasn’t here, I would have thrashed that prick by now.”
“Now, Hobie, you know Sunny wouldn’t let that happen.” Jessica chuckles as she rubs her aching back. “Besides, you know he can’t stay mad at her for long.”
“Um Excuse me,” Miles interjects, clearly annoyed that they ignored him. “Who is this Sunny? Is she another Spider-Woman or?”
Gwen giggles at Miles’ frustration and nudges him. “Sunny is one of us and Miguel’s favorite, so if you plan to piss off Miguel, make sure Sunny is there to calm him down.”
“Why would I plan to-“
His sentence gets interrupted as the door opens and someone peeks their head out. The woman was about the same height as Gwen and had on a black spider suit. The suit had sections of white on her chest and inner sides of her arms and thighs. The lines of her costume appear to be black with a faint green iridescent in the light. Her eyes shined with a silent apology as her cheeks glowed red. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she smiles at the group brightly.
“Hey, guys.” She greets them in a sweet tone before her eyes lock on Miles. “I see you brought in the legendary Miles Morales, Gwen.”
“You know who I am?” Miles questioned the woman as she opened the door for the group. His eyes glare at Gwen as she responds with a giggle.
“Of course, Gwen told me all about your inter dimensional adventure. You certainly handled yourself well. Even Miggy was impressed.”
Hobie and Jessica laugh at the mention of the nickname while Gwen at least attempts to try not to snort. Sunny tilts her head as she looks quizzically at the laughing trio while Miles looks dumbfounded.
“Whose Miggy?” He ask before a tall man appears on the platform above them.
His burgundy eyes glared down at the group with annoyance as he sighs. “Cariño…”
Sunny looks up at Miguel with an innocent smile as she looks at Miguel with eager anticipation. Miles’ watches as the intimating Spider-Man’s eyes soften as he places his hands on his hips.
“Why don’t you go meet Peter and babysit Mayday for him? I’m sure this meeting won’t take too long.” Miguel’s voice sounded stoic as Sunny’s energy bounced at the thought of playing with a baby.
“Okay!” She agrees as she quickly gives everyone either a hug or a pat. “And Miggy?” She calls as she shoots a web out of the open door, ready for her quick escape.
“Yes?” He answers with a lifted brow as he chooses to ignore Gwen, finally snorting out a laugh.
“Don’t.” She warns with pleading eyes with an unspoken request.
A silent argument playing between them as they both know what’s about to happen. An unfair choice about to be given to a kid. A choice that everyone else had to make in order to become the protectors of their worlds. A judgement that they both wish didn’t have to happen as they weren’t even given the option for their own loved ones.
She looks at Miles briefly as she knows he can’t help to make this life changing decision. She knows how this is probably gonna go and she doesn’t blame him. She would probably fight her hardest if she had known what would have happened to her-.
“I won’t.” Miguel answers, drawing her attention back on him. His eyes stern with a glimmer of guilt, knowing he can’t exactly promise that he will stay in control of his rage if Miles decides to run.
“Alrighty.” Sunny replied before smiling. “You guys have fun.”
With that she left, Miguel softly returning her smile as he watch her leave before becoming stern again as Miles asks,
“So how do I join this team?”
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A/N: That’s all I got for now.😅. I would appreciate some critique and if you wanna see more of ‘Sunny’ and Miggy, let me know.
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
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would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?
Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3
Part l to this fic can be found here
Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.
Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3
„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.
“Did you just see that?”
“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.
“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.
“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”
Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.
“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.
All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.
“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.
“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”
“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”
Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.
“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.
Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.
“Gojo-sensei!”
Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.
“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.
You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.
“Yeah, like being married for example!”
“Maybe I am, who knows?”
Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.
“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.
“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”
“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.
“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”
“So you want to know what this ring means?”
Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.
“Please tell me!”
Let’s see what happens.
“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”
Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.
“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”
“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.
Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?
“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.
“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.
Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.
Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?
“I am muscular!”, he cries out.
“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”
If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?
“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.
Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?
“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”
He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.
“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.
Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.
“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.
“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.
Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?
“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“
“I AM MUSCULAR!”
You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.
“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.
“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.
“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.
Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.
“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.
“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.
You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.
-in the evening-
“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.
“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”
That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.
“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.
Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.
“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”
“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”
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morallyinept · 6 months
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I don't rant very often - it's negative energy that I don't want or need in my life - but I feel that as a fan of Pedro Pascal, I'd like to take a moment to highlight what being a fan actually means.
As clearly, some people, some "fans", have demonstrated having a hard time grasping that concept...
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Being a fan of Pedro Pascal means I enjoy his career, his portfolio of works.
Sure, I enjoy his physical looks too; the man is certainly as handsome as they come, let's be real here. Yes, I find him attractive.
More importantly, I enjoy what Pedro stands for; his beliefs, his passions. He stands up for injustice, he is an LGBTQIA+ advocate and friend. He is a feminist. He is politcal. He's proud of his heritage.
Is Pedro perfect? Do I believe the sun shines out of his ass? No, he's human and has flaws and off days like the rest of us.
Ain't no-one that is perfect, babe. That's delusion talking if you truly believe that.
I enjoy that Pedro inspires me to be a better human being.
Being a true fan, to me, means only positive things.
It means respect.
It means respecting Pedro's boundaries, be that in person, or online.
It means respecting Pedro's privacy. He has the right, just like any one of us, to a personal life seperate from his career.
Pedro doesn't have to answer to you, me, or anyone else about his private life.
You are not entitled to him, or his time, just because he is a celebrity. (God, I fucking hate that word.) He does not owe you anything, and nor should he be expected to.
Pedro Pascal is a human being.
As a fan of Pedro, I will not write fanfic about him. Only his characters, because his characters are primarily the reason why I admire Pedro. His characters are how I discovered Pedro to begin with.
He can make me laugh, cry, fall in love, wince when he loses an arm, gasp when he double crosses the protagonist. I can survive a fungal apocalypse with his characters by my side.
That's an incredible testament to his talent as an actor that no matter what role he plays, I don't see Pedro on the screen. I only see his characters.
It's his job and he enjoys it. As a fan, I enjoy his craft.
If you do write about Pedro, that's up to you and I am not going to judge, but for me personally, it's a hard no. And I won't be reading any of it either, sorry.
As a fan of Pedro, I can draw the line between fantasy and reality. Meaning, I would never go out of my way to invite, devise, plant myself in deliberately, or exploit a situation where Pedro is in my personal space, or I in his.
Firstly, I'm a realist. And secondly if I ever met the guy, chances are I'd walk right past him and not even notice. (It's happened a lot, not with Pedro but with other actors etc... I live in the capital, there are a lot of them here.)
And thirdly, I am not a stalker.
I would never intentionally track him down in another country whilst he is working or vacationing, and then post about how slighted I am on IG that he told me to politely leave him alone because I was too persistent in getting too close. I would never relocate and uproot my life just to live near him in the hopes we bump into one another and fall desperately in love. 🙄
This is real life people, not a movie.
This kind of behaviour from Pedro's so-called fans is questionable, and frankly concerning to anyone with a sane mind.
I would also never bully or belittle anyone because their fan account is more popular than mine. I would never actively enforce or seek to enforce the deliberate closure of any fan accounts because I am petty or jealous.
Unfortunately this has happened and I am sorry to have heard about those who were affected by it - you did not deserve that.
Sadly, all these things have happened. For real. And it's utterly gross behaviour from, in most cases, fully grown women who are old enough to know better.
We are all here to enjoy and support Pedro, so why is that such a hard concept to grasp? Why does fandom have a toxic corner?
I'll tell you why.
Because thanks to social media, and platforms like Tumblr, it's all too easy to sit faceless behind a keyboard and do and say whatever you want, without any real consequence.
There are always a few bad eggs, in any fandom, who feel they are superior, that they know everything. That because they found a new image or a clip first that they are entitled to police everything. That they are entitled to dictate how fandom should be run.
I've got news for you; you're not.
Fandom is inclusive, sharing, a creative hub for ideas, inspiration. A place to forge friendships, relationships because you have common ground. The coming together of like-minded individuals to celebrate and endorse their admiration for their idol in a safe, non-threatening place.
A place for creativity to flow, for confidence in yourself to grow. To create original stories from canon, to create unique head canon because we don't want these lovable characters to die. To paint amazing pictures. To get excited over Pedro's new projects and discuss your favourites.
That's fandom. That's being a fan.
Being a fan doesn't mean creating, spreading, peddling or posting harmful material that 1) is frankly abhorrently disgusting and is not only insulting to Pedro, but also his family, his friends etc... and 2) could also be potentially damaging to his career.
I am referring to the vile deepfake of Pedro currently doing the rounds now on Tumblr because some idiot thought it was funny to clog up our timelines with it.
I don't want, or need, to see that, thanks.
And whoever created it originally should be fucking ashamed of themselves. I would wholly encourage you to report and block any accounts that have done this.
Imagine how you would feel if your face, your image was used and violated in that way.
You'd be outraged, right? Hurt? Sickened?
This kind of manipulation of AI is exactly what the WGA and SAG-AFTRA are concerned about and were/are striking for.
What Pedro is striking for, and then someone has the gall to pull this sickening stunt.
It's what artists are concerned about. What writers are concerned about. AI wasn't created to be abused in this way.
So, what makes you think that all this behaviour is acceptable to do to a man, who is nothing but generous and kind?
A man who would give you help, no questions asked, if he ran into you, in his own words:
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And you have the audacity to call yourselves fans?
A man who, if he knew, what his "fans" do, I'm certain he would be absolutely disgusted and not condone any of it.
☝🏻Let me make it abundantly clear:
If you have looked for, deliberately searched for, posted, jerked off to, liked or shared that vile deepfake clip, video, pic - whatever the fuck it is - in any way then, YOU ARE NO FAN OF PEDRO PASCAL.
And I am certainly no fan of yours.
Do better. Don't be a dick.
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k2ntoss · 3 months
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DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
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tw ⭒ swearing, angst, couple argument, mean jason todd (he's kind of a jerk with his words but uhhhh, he's cute), jason todd x fem!reader and okayyyyyy that's everything i think and some fluff sandwiched with more angst at the end bc i can't leave this just like that
a/n ⭒ song based fanfics are my weakness, i'm so sorry i just can't stop listening to certain songs just to write something related - the all-merican rejects, dirty little secret here okayyyy
i stopped counting words, sorry lmao
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jason has been a nice boyfriend, so long he has never raised his voice or got angry when there was a little problem, he has taken you out on a few nice dates but there was something off.
you knew basically nothing about his surroundings, not his family nor his friends, probably seen once any of his close class mates and before you could go to say hi he was next to you, it was almost as if he didn't wanted you near them but you tried to push it away. for over three months.
you've had enough of pretty much all of that situation, dating jason for almost a year, going on one or two dates every two months and just getting texts from him, probably a short movie night if he had any time for you and it was making you feel so little and less for him, what was the problem with taking you with his family? or asking you to hang out with his friends? because he made some time to spend a few hours with them, drink something and have fun but there wasn't place for you with them, with him.
"jay... do you think we can go to the movies this weekend?" you ask him, sitting on one of the stools you had around your living room when he was spending some of his spare time with you "there is this new movie..." you trail off, trying to get his attention.
"don't think we can do that, doll, already made plans" he looks at your for a couple of seconds with a small frown and you're thinking that maybe you are the problem, maybe you're not enough for jason and he knows it, he's nice with you and the way he looks at you, how he brushes your hair when he walks next to you before sitting on your couch.
"you going out with your friends?" you ask softly, receiving a nod and a soft hum from him "maybe i could join you, i don't know your friends..." your voice is still low, calm but there's a clear intention on it and as soon as you present the idea jason scoffs.
there something in the way he does it that makes you feel like a spark ignited inside of your chest, between a bolt of anger and a sharp pain, what was that supposed to mean?
"you don't wanna know them, trust me, princess" jason trails off, almost lying on your couch as he looked at his phone "not your kind of people..." he whispers and it makes you near explode.
"what is that supposed to mean, jason?" there's an edge to your voice that makes him sit straight, he looks at you and places his hands on his lap "it means exactly what i said, my friends are not your kind of people, why?" he shrugs, as if it wasn't that much of a big deal.
"and what is my kind of people exactly? not so interesting? not as good as you?" you start, the light in your eyes replaced by something else and jason noticed it "is your family also like that? not the kind of people i am around?"
"exactly that" he says, simply and blunt, he looks at you unamused as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back "not your kind of people either, now stop the tantrum, okay?" and for a second you are speechless because he has never said something like that.
"why can't i meet your family? it's been almost a year, do they at least know you are dating someone?" you ask, not letting go of it just like that makes him sigh in frustration.
"why would they have to know? i don't see your point, y/n." and as soon as the pet names stop you know that he's not happy talking about this "i haven't told anyone, okay? and i don't plan on doing it, i have my reasons."
"maybe they have to know because i'm your damn girlfriend" your town grows a bit louder, not longer sitting on the stool you walk until you're in front of jason "maybe they have to know because what the hell have you've been doing the days you spend here instead of with them?" the way jason looks at you isn't helping, his eyes are fixed on the ceiling and his lips are pressed on a fine line.
"i don't want to tell them, okay? i can't see a damn issue besides you wanting everyone to know i have a girlfriend and that's not a big deal" he trails off, his hand moving in a motion that made your mood go worse.
"it is a fucking big deal, jason!" when you snap at him he turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise bit it quickly changes to a expression of pure tiredness "we barely have a date every full moon, you text me whenever you remember i exist and your friends don't even know i'm your girlfriend" you number with your fingers, your voice shaky because your emotions taking over were too much.
"i do what i can, i don't have that much free days to waste my time here!" he snaps back and his words hit hard but that's just the start "i still can't get why you have to make a fuzz out of it, it's enough with both of us knowing we're dating"
"wasting your time, fine" you mutter before turning around, back facing him as you walk to your room and you can make the sound of his steps following you "it's so fucking funny because no one knows i'm your girlfriend so you get a lot of girls flirting with you and i have to deal with it but as soon as any of my friends gets too touchy with me at the campus you're calling me" and it's true, jason can't stand seeing other people so close to you and so freely because that's something he can't do and he does had his reasons.
"are you really gonna make a problem out of this?" he asks, it's like he isn't able to wrap his mind around of it, how much you wanted everyone to know that someone like him laid his eyes on you, that he liked you from all of the girls it was you "you're the only one that needs to know"
"but at least give me a goddamn reason for me to be a stupid secret, jason" you are almost crying, voice struggled and eyes burning from how much you wish things were at least a little different "is it so bad it's me who you're dating? am i not enough?" your words hurt, not just you but also him because he would love to show you off but his life won't allow it.
he won't risk you to get too deep into his shit, it's enough you deal with his presence and his absence too.
"that's not a game you would like to play, you'll find out shit you don't wanna know" he warns you, jason's voice is now stern and his eyes are no longer soft, he stands towering over you as he seems to be holding back his tongue "i can't tell anyone and you don't even try because that would be so dumb of you" he sounds absolutely mad and he is, but with himself.
jason hates this, he knows that maybe he's breaking your heart and he despises his whole being for that. he loves you and that's why he can't drag you into his world, all the pain and worry it would bring to you would be a burden you don't deserve when you're the only one who brings something nice into his days.
"you're still not giving me one single reason, i don't even know if you're ashamed or what the hell is going on" your voice breaks and he sees the tears pooling on your lashes, he wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you but maybe he has to break you a little to keep you safe.
"i don't fucking want them to know about you, that's all! is it so hard to wrap your head around it? do i need to spell it out for you like a fucking child?" he's yelling in a way that draws your tears away, wet trails on your cheeks "it's stupid, you know? i'm wasting my fucking time here when i could be doing something else"
you see him passing his hands through his hair, desperate and frustrated "i thought this would be different but you had to decide to get on my nerves and be a pain in the ass, is this what you expect me to take with my family? a brat like you that can't take a no for an answer?"
he is cursing his name in his head, he sees how your heart shatters into pieces and the way your hands fall flat on your sides, tears falling silently through your cheeks.
"do i need to get you a damn banner to announce it? take you out so you can scream it out loud? you've got to be joking" he scoffs, jason outs a show for you. a show of breaking your heart, making you feel so stupid for expecting to be important enough for him.
"get out" your words tremble and he stops to look at you, there's a brief glimpse of regret on his eyes but it vanishes in a second. "i don't want you here, get out of my place" you point every word, crying but still angry at him. the sharp pain in your chest is making it hard to breath and it shows on the gasps you let out as he walks out of the room.
"i hope that later tonight you regret everything you've said" he hears you, his chest aching because he wants so bad to erase each word he said.
"i regret a lot of things, y/n" he says harshly, looking at you intently before he leaves. just like that you're left alone in your apartment, crying and letting yourself fall onto the floor.
night falls like that, rain pouring heavily and it muffles your sobs while you lie on your couch, hugging a pillow and hiding your face because you've been crying without rest since jason left. the headache you feel is killing you but there's no will to get up to take a pill.
on the other hand, jason drives around the city. he has been around your block a few times wondering if he should go back and hold you but he shrugs and leaves, you said you didn't wanted him there so it would have done things worse. jason also looks at his phone, thinking about calling or texting you but he decides is better if he doesn't.
until he stops thinking or at least he thinks he did, he stands outside your door with his copy of the keys on his hand and it's too late when he snaps back into reality because he's already on the doorway. it's almost midnight and the lights are all off, not even the tv is on but he listens clearly to your soft sobs and the sounds of you shifting on your place.
"i told you i didn't wanted you here" you croack, voice hoarse and raspy from how much you've been crying your lungs out. his heart breaks when he turns on the lights and sees your red eyes, puffy and still teary.
"i know... but i couldn't leave you like that" there was the jason todd you knew, his voice was soft and there was a tenderness to his eyes that always made you sigh "i said a lot of shit today and you have no idea how much i hate myself for it" he starts before walking towards you.
he shakes his head when you try to sit on the couch, making you stay still as he lets his body fall sit on the floor and reaches a hand to brush a few strands of messy hair out of your face, he sighs when you pull away refusing his touch.
"i don't wanna know, jason" he wants to kiss your forehead when you snuggle yourself a little more against the pillow but he knows it's not the right moment for it. not when he was losing you.
"but i need to tell you... there are a lot of things about me that you don't know and you are different from my family and friends, baby" his hand finds a way to ylur cheek, cupping it gently as he wipes away a few tears "and that's not bad because you're better than any of them, you're better than me anf right now i'm so damn sure i don't really deserve someone like you" his words are full of meaning, that you can feel it because jason has clear eyes for you, green pretty eyes that had always allowed you to stare into his soul to let you understand his feelings.
"i could never be ashamed to show you off but you have to understand i'm not a good person and letting anyone know how much you mean to me... i can't risk losing the only good thing i have" and it makes you feel weird, part of your brain tells you to kick him out because his words are not real.
but your heart is beating fast, the way jason looks at you and his voice feeling like a warm embrace that keeps you safe from the hard world, there's no pain when he's next to you "i don't know what you're talking about, jason, this just doesn't feel right"
"i've let you into my life, everything i am is an open book for you because i trust you" trying to calm down your words sound a bit more steady, not so broken when you look up at jason "because i love you and i want to share with you everything that i am, is it that i'm asking for too much?"
"that's not– you're not asking for too much, princess... you deserve the world laid at your feet but it's hard for me to let you into a world that you probably won't like" he says, looking away from you as if he felt shame about who he was "what if i let you in and you can't love who i really am?" his eyes bore into yours again, you can see the pain and fear on them.
jason can't stand thinking about losing another loved one because of his life.
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houxe · 1 month
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Regarding my SBI/DSMP Fics
TW: Abuse, Trauma, and Mentions of Suicide.
With all that has happened, I did want to come out here and make my stance clear. I will always stand with Shelby (Shubble) and all of the victims who are speaking out against Will Gold (Wilbur Soot). If you still support that bastard, unfollow me and leave my blog and whatever small community I made.
I've already stated this is my Discord channel, but I want to put it here too.
For me, c!Wilbur is so far removed from cc!Wilbur that I don't connect the two. The characters are vessels for my own characterizations and stories. It's a bit like writing Supernatural*, Twilight, or Hazbin Hotel fanfics. I don't support the guy, monetarily or otherwise, he does not interact with fanfics, I have plans to be very vocal that I'm on Shelby's side no matter what/make it clear that what Will did is wrong, and I don't use his real life events as plots in my stories. At least, I certainly don't try to. It's why I typically change traits about the characters. (I.e. Tommy is shorter, Phil is taller, Techno is bulky, and Wilbur always has golden/hazel eyes.)
I'm aware that it's a tad different because it's rp and not something like a full on book or an actor in a movie, but DSMP has also been over for over two years and the characterizations I make for SBI are not at all based on the CCs. Real life Techno isn't a literal terrorist, Phil ain't a father married to a goddess, Tommy is not a traumatized child soldier, and Wilbur isn't suicidal and blowing up countries.
I think I'll likely focus more on Techno, Tommy, and Phil for a while, but I'm not gonna let one dude ruin a fandom and things I've made for myself. Nothing I write is ever made for Wilbur, as I've seen people saying. Additionally, Wilbur was not the only writer. Technoblade, Philza, TommyInnit, and so many others made that story what it was. Not him.
However, if any CCs come forward saying they don't want their old characters interacting with his, I will respect that.
Though I do think there is a tendency to take real life events (i.e. Techno's cancer, LJ's music, Tommy's real life parents, etc.) and put them into fiction about DSMP. I, however, don't try to do that and have stated before that I don't feel comfortable doing so. The truth is that we have not gotten any genuine SBI content outside of DSMP for years. The dynamic in real life is very different from what was presented in the DSMP. Did personalities still bleed over? Yes, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not going to act like they're exactly the same between character and person either. We've had that conversation like in 2021, it's why we have C! and CC!.
The rather sad truth is, SBI is what got me really into writing and it's a comfort for me that nothing can compare to. Obviously, I don't think it's appropriate to be writing certain types of stories right now or to be involving characters made by CCs outside of the DSMP. I think it's up to everyone else to decide on what they want to do, however, rushing it also isn't the way to go either. Give yourself time to heal and think it over first instead of throwing away something that gives you comfort and has not been associated with by the creators for over two years.
Anyways, fuck Will Gold. Fuck the fact that he hurt so many people, and fuck that he lied and manipulated his way around the damn internet. ESPECIALLY fuck the fact that he tried to diminish what he did and not take proper accountability.
Go and support Shelby so so much, she and everyone who spoke out really deserve it. I'm glad silence on these types of issues is not being normalized.
Here is a list of (American) resources for DV help:
TNLR
RAINN
WOAR
Love is respect
The Trevor project
Futures without violence
National domestic violence hotline
Resource on what DV and abuse looks like
*Changed it from Harry Potter to Supernatural because Harry Potter is a significantly worse and more problematic franchise, even just within the content of the books. It'd be better left in the dust. I've talked about it before, but it was the first thing that came to my mind at the time and was a poor comparison on my part, I'm truly sorry for that.
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whippedspread · 4 months
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OKAY LISTEN, Link Headcannons 😍😍 I’m so into that man, like, I’m gonna be writing 1027329328 fanfics of him one day but lets start slow 🙏 (nsfw marked blue)
𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹:
- The way he’d be so loving and put you first. Like, of course he has to be out a lot saving the world and whatever, but I can imagine him coming back and immediately tend to your needs, ask you if your hungry, and take absolute care of you
- He’ll be kinky as hell. Like unbelievably. But at the same time, he’ll be gentle and make sure you want to do what he wants first because he’s such a gentleman. But when you say he can do whatever he’ll be so into it, oh my god. He’s so the type to be into begging. And the type of man that’ll whisper in your ear what he’s going to do to you. Oh, and I bet he’s a teaser. He’s definitely the type that wants you absolutely under his control, doing what he wants, and calling you a good girl when you listen. He doesn’t seem like a punisher to me, but I believe he’d do small ones. Like picking you up and fucking you until you lose all control and you can’t tell him when to stop. He’d punish you in ways that make you a mess. Not spanking, but biting you and marking you in obvious places so you have to walk around with it, and see it for yourself.
- I think he’d be so affectionate. He’d come home and instantly give you a hug and a kiss. He’s the type of person that if you’re watching a movie together, he’d want to be snuggled under a blanket together. He’d always want to be the big spoon when sleeping because he’d love the feeling of his arms around your waist, or just around you in general. Link would be the type of guy that always wants a kiss, but is either too shy to ask, or wants to wait until you want one.
- He loves cooking for you. I mean, in the game, Link hums when he cooks and looks so happy when he gets something really good, so I can imagine him being more excited in a relationship. Like if you come home and he’s cooking, he’d be stirring and humming, and telling you what he’s making. And whenever you cook, he’ll either help or be pouty because he wanted to.
- He’d be so gentle during sex. But in a “I don’t want to hurt you” way, not in a “this is how i like it” way. He would totally fuck you however you want if you just tell him. He prefers something between rough, but he wouldn’t mind being rougher with you if you wanted it. Or if you wanted him to be gentle, he’d do that too.
- He’s 100% the fingering in public type, or whenever he wants to. If you messed with him, as in trying to tease and turn him on in public, he wouldn’t care where you’re at. He’d start rubbing your clit through your clothes, or maybe even try to slip a finger in if you’re wearing a skirt. He’d also be the type to get embarrassed about it later, as if he wasn’t in your ear talking about how wet you were 10 minutes ago.
- He’d love picking out outfits for you or going shopping with you. If you asked him to pick anything he wants you to wear, he’d get so excited over it. He would be in your closet for hours, trying to see what combination is best and what looks great on you (which is a struggle because he thinks everything looks great on you). And when shopping he’d excitedly ask you if you like this, if you want that. He’d also ask you if you think this or that looks good on him or not. He’d be like a little kid looking at stuff from the windows and smiling.
- He wouldn’t be hugely into you wearing lingerie. I mean, he wouldn’t complain if you did, he just prefers seeing you naked when he fucks you. He would like a particular type though. Mainly like a lace robe, because he can take it off easy and still see everything with it on. He’d tell you how pretty and sexy you look in it, and then ask you politely if he can fuck you however he wants today before taking it off. He’d be the type that’ll reward you for wearing one he likes, or looking pretty for him.
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h0r0gur4mu · 7 months
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everyone who writes and supports miles smut can block me, that includes 42 btw.
PLEASE SHARE THIS TO ANYONE WHO SUPPORTS AGED UP MINORS (SPECIFICALLY MILES MORALES)
TW: BELOW THE CUT IS DISCUSSION OF P//DO, UNDERAGE CONTENT. (I don’t go too far into detail but I know some people have been affected by it).
elaboration on why aging up (for sexual purposes) is bad
miles is canonically 15 and dont even pull that “he’s aged up” shit with me cause you know damn well on aged up fanfics they use pictures of CANON MILES. so its pretty obvious u have the teen in your mind. and you know what the ones that are around his age are annoying too but it doesnt put nearly of a bad taste in my mouth as the GROWN ASS ADULTS who make that shit.
and btw dont go and say “oh, it’s hormones and plus miles has hormones” and to that i have to say:
1. if you are a child who likes miles like that, fine, deal with that shit in private tho. you posting s*xual content of a minor is catering to creepy adults online
2. if you’re an adult saying that shit then i can say nothing less that you have the mindset of a groomer. You’re not very far from the mfs who say that “teenage girls are at their ripe age at 16.” you as an adult SHOULD NOT be using teenagers having hormones to your advantage and excuse. That’s disgusting.
“they’re just a fictional character” 😟 can you get a grip? go outside. Miles is a fictional character who is BUILT and DESIGNED to look like a teenager. And astv aint that unrealistic that you can say he’s ambiguous. He’s not. And even if he was he does activities that I do as a teen—I go to high school, I’m nervous about my future—miles is literally a relatable teen, as he was designed to be.
“Then stop looking for the smut posts.” I DONT NEED TO! It infiltrates my ASTV tag and at times the Hobie Brown tags too. You act like your tags aren’t public. If someone wanted to read a Miles fic that was normal fluff they would have to scroll through some smut too!
anyway thats all and dont even both coming up in my comments and reposts throwing a hissy fit you niggas r weird asf and can block me. maybe then id see less weird shit on my tag page. do us all a favor and log off.
+ Update: His ages from any other media isn’t a valid excuse. If you were clearly writing for canon adult miles you wouldn’t have astv miles as the icons and astv as the tag.
+ Update: Miles is CANONICALLY 15 in the first movie, and somewhere in the last movie he was YOUNGER. As mentioned above, mentioning other media as an excuse is bs when in the movies your writing for (itsv, atsv) he’s clearly a minor.
+ The thing that pisses me off the most is how ya’ll act like the people who are uncomfortable are weird. Are you not writing s*xual content about a 15 year old on a daily basis? please.
+ Fiction DOES affect reality. Why do you think people have nightmares after horror? Why does a sad film make people cry? Why does a deep movie change perspective?
+ In the scene where Miles argues with his parents, he says something along the lines of “I’m 15!!!” So if you think he’s not underage, you either didn’t pay attention or don’t have google. Plus what 18 year old discusses college that late? (without any other discussions prior?)
+ if you like little boys stop tryna hide that you like little boys it makes you even more manipulative and gross. no but in all seriousness telling minors that behavior is okay has gotta be SOME form of grooming on a more subtle scale. sorry if that’s too bold for ya’ll but as someone who’s been tricked into thinking content like this was okay when I was younger, I can confirm that this isn’t okay.
+ If to prove character that’s canonically a minor isn’t one you have to pull up seven different source materials that barely correlate to the one you write for, that character is still a fucking minor! It’s giving “she’s actually 3000!!!” when she looks 8.
yeah. kay bye!!!
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ravenrune · 1 year
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A little Luis x F!reader thing I've been working on for the past few days. I enjoy writing the reader meeting a character for the first time, so here is one for Luis. I went for she/her pronouns this time. I'm sorry I didn't go for gender-neutral. I will again next time! <3
No warnings. Fanfic. Not beta-read. Around 900 words.
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The first step
Under any other circumstances, Luis loved to attend parties. The wedding he was at right now, however, had killed his joy very early on. Luis barely knew the couple and didn’t understand why they’d invited him. Politeness, he figured. He used to work with the man, and they had kept in touch after he’d left Umbrella, but to call them friends would be a massive overstatement. Vague acquaintances seemed much more fitting.
Except for this time, anyway.
Initially, Luis had looked forward to the wedding. Not because he cared much about the wedding couple, but because he always wanted to meet new people. This wedding, however, was boring with a capital B. It seemed as if everyone present was in a relationship and didn’t feel like interacting with strangers.
Luis himself had come alone. He’d tried to get a friend to join him, but nobody had been interested. Luis didn’t have any women in his life that he was romantically involved with, so he hadn’t been able to score a date, either. Didn’t matter much, though, because normally, he was pretty good at keeping himself, and strangers, entertained.
Bored and annoyed, he got up from the table, seemingly invisible to the people around him. He’d go out for a smoke, have another drink, and maybe then it would finally feel appropriate to leave. He didn’t think he’d ever be home before eleven after a party, but he really wasn’t feeling it this time.
“Ai, ai, ai,” he muttered, stepping out into the rain. He was pretty sure the weather forecast had promised clear skies, but apparently they’d been wrong again. “How hard can it be to predict the weather?”
“Surprisingly difficult, actually,” came a female voice from behind him. “Want to stay under my umbrella?”
Luis turned around and saw a woman standing there. Relatively young. Nice dress. It was too dark to see the colour of her eyes or hair. She was holding a big umbrella and gestured to him to come over.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Luis flashed her a big smile and stood next to her. “You mind if I light one up?” He held up his pack of cigarettes.
She shrugged. “Nah, go ahead.”
Luis lit his cigarette and placed the pack and the lighter back in his pocket. “Why are you outside? It’s a bit cold, no?”
“Cold doesn’t bother me much,” she replied. “It’s a bit too… crowded inside.”
Luis glanced at her. She had nice features, but he still couldn’t tell what colour her eyes or her hair were. “Is it too crowded, or is it just too boring?” He asked, only half joking.
She laughed and looked around to ensure nobody was close enough to hear her. “It really is very boring,” she groaned. “I kinda regret coming here. I could’ve stayed home and watched a movie. Would’ve cost me less money, too.”
“Yeah… I don’t even know why I was invited,” Luis muttered. “They don’t seem that interested in their guests.”
“Money, probably. They just want gifts. Isn’t that why people get married in the first place?”
Luis nearly choked on some smoke. “People get married for money? Where’s the romance in that, amiga?”
“Romance is dead,” she stated matter-of-factly, “everything is just a financial transaction nowadays.”
Wow. Luis wasn’t sure about what to say. How could someone think that way? He wondered if perhaps something had happened in her past, that someone had hurt her badly enough to turn her away from romantic interactions.
It was hard to imagine, and the thought made him feel a bit sad. His first instinct was to see this as a challenge. A challenge to try and conquer her heart. Then again, he also knew very well that that could end badly. He may consider himself quite the ladies’ man, but he wasn’t in it to hurt people. He didn’t hop from woman to man to woman just to satisfy his needs and move on. Not anymore, anyway. Not like when he was younger.
Luis had gotten so lost in thought, his cigarette started to burn his finger. “Agh!” He threw the thing on the ground and stomped it out. “That hurt!”
“Not the smartest thing I’ve ever seen,” she joked. “Do you need a plaster?”
Luis smiled. “Nah,” he muttered. “I just gotta pay attention.”
He liked hearing her laugh, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.
“You eh… you got a name, amiga?” He asked.
“Y/N,” she replied.
“Good name. I’m Luis Serra.” He extended his hand, which she shook. “Encantado.”
“Same… I think?” She smirked. “How about we go back inside and get something to drink? I’m sick of the rain.”
Going inside for a drink. That seemed like a very nice first step for Luis. “Yeah, why not. I’ll buy you one.”
“Eh?” She frowned at him. “Drinks are free tonight.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Luis laughed. “Well, I’m sure that after tonight you’ll want nothing more than for me to take you out and buy you one elsewhere!”
“I doubt it,” she muttered while folding her umbrella. “But hey… surprise me, I guess.”
Now that was definitely a challenge, and Luis wasn’t the type to say no to one.
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olderthannetfic · 2 months
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I know about the origins of the Bechdel Test, but I do think it's inaccurate to say it's not meant as a criticism of movies that don't do that. I think that when people stop thinking in binary terms of "is this feminist?" or "is this anti-feminist?" and instead look at things more holistically, that you can recognize both that a character like Mako Mori is great, a step in the right direction for female characters in action movies and especially WOC, go forth and stan her and write all the fanfic you want.... but yeah, it is also a valid criticism of the movie (and many others like it) that she doesn't talk to or have relationships with any other woman in the film.
I think one thing to help people realize just HOW much of women's lives are being left out of media representation when we never talk to other named women about something other than a man in movies, is to just think about your own life. I talk to my mom every day, and if we are not talking about my stepdad or my brother-in-law (and I don't think we've ever had a conversation that wasn't at least IN PART not about them or another man), then it passes the test. I'm a professor and when I talk to a female student about her homework or project (which is, again, something that happens pretty much every day I teach), that's passing the test. If I order food from a female cashier and she has a name tag, that's passing the Bechdel Test! It's literally just constant for the vast majority of women on the planet, and that's what's being left out of our stories.
Like, I like the takes I've seen about how part of the joke in Dykes to Watch Out For is that this is *particularly* alienating to lesbians - as a lesbian myself I agree - but I also think it should be frustrating to straight and bi and ace women as well, because like unless you are like exclusively interacting with your husband or male relatives every single day + you work in a workplace where you are literally the only woman, you are almost certainly passing the test constantly. That's a pretty big part of women's lives that Hollywood is leaving out!
But I think it's important to view it as just one piece of the discussion about feminism and women's representation in film, not the final judge on if a film is feminist or not. Which it wasn't intended to be - as you said, it was mostly a joke on the extreme maleness of 80s action movies. Honestly, I do not miss those days on Tumblr where people were obsessed with declaring certain movies/TV shows/other fandoms they liked as "feminist" or "anti-feminist" and the really bizarre granular discussions people would have between two works that BOTH had a long way to go in terms of representing women. I remember people in the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom would use this to argue about if the original anime or Brotherhood/the manga was better - when both have some fantastic female supporting characters, but are ultimately male-centered stories where even a lot of those women's lives and stories are centered around their male love interests and family members. It's better than a lot of shounen, but if that's your bar for feminism - either version - you have a long way to go (and need to watch WAY more anime because there's sooooo much of it that is female-centric). I also remember people coming up with other tests that were blatantly silly: like I thought the Mako Mori test about "if a woman has a motivation/story that isn't centered on a man" was fair because it did point out a legitimate criticism, but there was that ridiculous "Tauriel Test" where it was "a woman who is good at her job." And it was entirely about someone just disliking that movie critics and feminist commentators alike were down on the Hobbit movie trilogy, which a) were bad movies, sorry you have bad taste, b) are absolutely not where you should focus your attention if you're so concerned about women's representation in film, Tolkein has always been a sausage fest! And her big thing was being mad that people thought Judi Dench's M in Skyfall was a better female character, and so she arbitrarily decided she was "bad at her job" and Tauriel was "good at her job" even though that's completely subjective and can be challenged in both cases.... but also, once again, why are you looking to the fucking JAMES BOND franchise for movie feminism! There's nothing like comparing the relative "feminism levels" of JAMES BOND and LOTR to make it obvious that this is 100% about validating your subjective taste preferences by giving it a "progressive" excuse, not actually about feminism and not actually caring about women's representation beyond how it makes you look good. And yet SO many people took that transparently stupid post seriously. I'd see professional articles mention the Tauriel Test as "one of the new tests" like there was anything serious about it.
And then on the flip side, over-reliance on the Bechdel Test alone led to some clueless conclusions especially in anime fandom, given that anime has an abundance of shows that exclusively feature female characters in school clubs being cute, where those characters are nonetheless two-dimensional archetypes designed for the male gaze. Someone like fandomsandfeminism did a presentation at an anime con that called one of those types of shows "feminist" and some Japanese user eviscerated it, but that just led to the equally shallow fandom analysis of "everything a Japanese person says about anime is automatically more valid" and "any Westerner who wants to criticize anime on feminist/progressive grounds is culturally appropriating and ultimately coming from a place of ignorance, even if they literally have a degree in Asian studies."
Wow, this turned into a rant about the history of bad "feminist media criticism" on this website. Sorry about that, I think I had a point in here somewhere. I guess that the Bechdel Test is indeed a joke and those origins should be understood, but also, I don't think it's wrong to say that it identifies a real problem and one that people could probably take MORE seriously than they do - but as just one part of the conversation, not the Feminism Litmus Test, and certainly not as a dick-measuring contest about whose fandom gets them more progressive brownie points.
--
I think as long as we grasp that the joke is "The bar is so far under the ground that we might as well go home and eat popcorn there", it's fine.
The real issue with the test is that people started thinking a pass was meaningful.
If you say something like "X% of 2020s movies can't even manage this weaksauce level of women existing", that's a meaningful statistic. Even if you got a couple of data points wrong, you're not factually wrong enough for it to matter because X is going to be some massive, massive percentage, and the overall trend is so clear.
But a pass is nothing to celebrate, and that's where we went wrong.
Like you say, litigating which of two big franchises that barely do anything with women wins on tumblr points is idiocy.
I think people are so unaware of what media that genuinely centers women even looks like that it's hard for them to even begin having a discussion.
I personally have been a massive fujoshi type from adolescence, and media that centers female characters isn't actually what I typically want. (Though media that is by and for women and that doesn't give a fuck what men think of this is.) I am also not much of a fan of slice of life in general...
But when I was coming out and figuring my shit out, being able to go buy collections of Dykes to Watch Out For was incredibly valuable to me.
Ditto the other lesbian comic books that were just sitting there in the bookstore. I'm sure if I went back and reread them all now, I could find things to nitpick or ways they were more for lesbians and less for me as a bi girl, but the really distinctive thing they did was let me exist in a world where media isn't all 80s sausagefest action movies where women are not people.
In fact, they were a world where men don't matter terribly much—not because they're dramatically rejecting men in some facile and reactionary way but because... who cares? They just had other priorities... and this was normal.
It feels like people who've never taken a vacation from really mainstream media just have no concept of what it would feel like to exist in some other space.
And I think that's a pity even if, like me, they later choose to go read mostly BL later instead of focusing on female characters or they genuinely love trash 80s action movies despite everything wrong with them. It's not just sexist media that's the issue: it's that feeling like the fish can't see the water it's swimming in.
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skzdarlings · 1 month
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dont you find it weird to write smut on actual people..?
depends on the type! i actually really don’t like speculative works inferring into real life preferences or dating habits, they do make me uncomfortable. anything about real relationships or tastes or speculating on their types, ‘does so and so like xyz in a partner/the bedroom/whatever.’ i don’t like em and i also just… dont care lol. i like fiction stories and i don’t care about celebrity life nor am i interested in any of these men in real life.
i write a couple different things. some fanfic is based on a skz property. ie. wolfgang is, unsurprisingly, based on wolfgang, as the kingdom performance has a narrative in it that i want to play with. thunderous and circus also set up little worlds that strike inspiration. in a lot of their properties, they often have pronounced characters or roles, it’s just those characters have their names lol. in my opinion there is a difference between writing something based on thunderous than, like, a video of ed sheeran playing his guitar
other fics are, frankly, fully original characters and skz are just the fancasts. if i changed every name in these stories there is zero identifying information. no one could read bodyguard with a name change and go “this sounds like felix from skz.” it’s just not there. there is less of a relationship between those stories than there is for stuff like the crown or other books and movies that purport to be about real people and their “true” story, however sensationalized or not. i am not purporting chan is a werewolf lol.
if tomorrow they said stop, i’d delete their names and could keep posting because the stories are so unconnected to their faceclaims🤷 seungmin is not a law student and chan is not a cat burglar and minho is not a race car driver.
the side of fic fandom that i like is either getting creative with skz properties or just basically writing stories for people who want to faceclaim the same faces in their original romance novels and short stories. it provides a built-in fan community to post. it’s still not for everyone and that’s fine, but for me fan works are not about their real life counterpart, it’s fanfiction using their characters or worlds or personas and sharing with a fan community interested in the same thing.
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l0serloki · 1 year
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If that's not a problem can I request Gekko, Neon and Jett (separate headcanons or fanfics) x Overworked fem! reader?
The reader studies on the computer (back hurts, neck hurts from sitting in one position and typing for such a long time) and does college projects almost all nights and attends classes during the day. Unfortunately, the reader does not have much time for herself and the requested characters...☹️
The characters are fed up with the stressed out reader and decide to sneak up on us from behind in the middle of the night (scaring us in the process) and try to help? Back massages, neck kisses etc
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Overworked!
(Gekko, Jett, Neon)
CW : Anxiety, overworked fem!reader, body pains
A/N : Gekko was actually a lot of fun to write for! Thanks for the request! :)
Gekko : 
When he gets back from missions and still sees you at the desk… he’s not happy.
Of course it’s not your fault! He thinks youre so ambitious and driven to work for that long but he worries. A LOT.
He’s an emotional kinda guy! He’s direct when asking anyone how they feel and checking up. His ‘little buddies’ will check on you as well! (Dizzy sleeping in your lap <3)
He will massage your neck and slowly convince you to come lay in bed. Besides, he can’t sleep without his girl!
Gekko had left two days ago with Reyna and Sage for a recovery mission. You had been in your shared apartment typing away for college classes, time blurring together. It wasn’t until the main door opened that you realized. You had really been autopiloting work for two days. Shaking your head, you continued to type.
A sigh was heard from behind you and cold hands trailed your neck.
“Babe, you’ve gotten up.. Right?” Your boyfriend leaned down to peck your temple. Your bloodshot eyes scrunched at the affection.
“Yeah. I ordered food earlier. It’s in the fridge.” You mumbled, body still tense at the thought of the essay. 
“Yeah.. That’s great. But you know what’s even better?” Gekko’s breath tickled your ear as his hand shut the laptop. Your eyes widened, anxiety coursing through your veins.
“Why would you do that!? I have so much work to do!” You screeched, eyes meeting his. He shrugged and pulled you out of the office chair. 
“Maybe because you’ve been doing that for days? You are human! Not KAY/O! Well.. He wouldn’t work himself like this either. Babe, you need to find an equal balance. We are taking a break. It’s not a relationship if I talk to a wall.” 
You took deep breaths, nodding along. What he was saying was correct but you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself. The world wouldn’t end if you didn’t work 24/7 and the papers weren’t due for days. Your heart clenched at the thought of Gekko talking to himself and being lonely.
“You’re right. I love you and I’m sorry.” His strong arms buried you in his chest, stroking at your scalp.
“No need, beautiful. I’ll always have your back.”
Jett : 
She will get annoyed if you don’t give her time.
She knows your work is important but come on.. At least give her five minutes!
“I know it’s not about me and you need time for work.. I just need you to give yourself a break. Okay?”
Kisses your neck and cheek, grabbing your hand to help you stretch. 
“Let’s go grab a snack and watch a movie. Sound good?”
Your girlfriend was NOT having another work day. You were currently being dragged through the house, far far away from the office.
“I love you but we are not having another one of these days. You hear me? You’ve totally ignored me for three days straight! I was respectful about it but you know you’re not the only one in the relationship. It’s not even that! You need to give yourself a damn break!” Jett waved her hands around as she spoke down to you. 
She was right.. It was a bit much. You couldn’t even remember the last time you ate. 
“You’re right. Sorry, baby. I love you too.” You reached up, lips pecking at hers. She hummed at the simple affection, hand trailing down your collar bone. 
“Good. Come on, let’s get you something to eat. We can watch a movie and cuddle on the couch after.” A large grin was plastered on her face as she yanked your sore body up, feet already trekking to the kitchen. 
You smiled back, murmuring a “Sounds good”.
Neon : 
“Look at my studious girlfriend. I may be fast but damn.. Your typing skills might beat me.”
Her fingers run down your arm, tracing patterns all over your skin. 
She’ll give you some time to finish up any sentences but once she’s in the room.. Work is done!
“Babe, drink your water and stand up. I’m gonna stretch out your back!” 
She knows how to help with tense muscles since she runs A LOT. Talk about a lifesaver for a sore neck.
Neon’s fingers worked on your arms, lips dusting across your neck. She had finally convinced you to ditch the computer and give yourself a break from the draining school work. Your eyes drooped at the simple touches and comfort of the bed.
“This is a better alternative to work. Besides, you need rest. Close those pretty eyes.” Neon teased as she pulled you flush against her. You had to agree with her - it really was better. Besides, it had been days since the two of you had been able to have a moment together.
“You’re right. Thanks for everything. I love you.” You yawned, giving your girlfriend a soft smile as you drifted off to sleep.
“I love you too, little nerd.”
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seastarconstellation · 10 months
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Does anyone want to scream about Lily Evans and her relationship with Snape with me? I'm writing a longfic and I'm struggling a little with my characterisation.
Okay, actually. I'll start:
Lily fascinates me because we know so little, and what we do know often contradicts in very interesting ways. Who Harry’s parents were is presented as a mystery that Hary solves throughout the books. Lily appears to be even more obscured than James; he has a group of friends to tell Harry all about who he was. People seem much more hesitant to talk about Lily (the marauders mostly bring her up to talk about her green eyes. That part where Lupin talks about being close with her is movie-only), and her closest friend and family actively withhold information. There are never any Griffendor women who talk to Harry about being close to his mom. It leads me to assume that Lily, a known muggle-born from a poor town in the middle of nowhere and a known associate of Severus Snape, wasn’t quite as popular as Slughorn suggested in Hbp
I’m also going to go out on a limb and say she wasn’t quite as put together as you’d assume; she had a baby at 19 or 20, in the middle of a war. I’m really trying to put what I’ve seen happen first-hand with super young parents aside. But even when I accept that Lily was able to be a good mum at such a young age, I can’t pretend that this was a mature decision. A war was happening, and Lily and James were both prominent soldiers in it. Surely she realised how much danger they both were in.
The big bombshell is, of course, her friendship with Snape. We know they became friends at eight years old, considered each other ‘best friends' at one point, that their relationship started crumbling in the fifth year and that she officially cut him off after he called her mud blood at the lake. Other posts have already masterfully illustrated how they were torn apart because they were fundamentally unable to see things from each other's point of view. Severus talks about being bullied, then dismisses the bullying other Slytherins were doing (when Lily tells him about Mulciber using dark magic on a student he waves her off. “That was just a laugh.”). Lily, on her end, seems very eager to believe Griffendor's gossip over her supposed best friend when it comes to the shrieking shack incident. They’re both hypocrites. Completely ignoring each other's issues while blaming the other for not acknowledging their own. So one thing leads to another, Snape yells a slur and Lily decided that enough is enough. Which makes sense, it’s not her responsibility to fix him if he’s starting to get radicalised. There’s a certain tragedy in baby Sneeple being thrown in the dungeon with a bunch of wannabe-death eaters at eleven, but again, that was not for her to fix.
But I’m still completely baffled by the fact that she laughed. Whywhywhy did Joanne(derogatory) write that. That’s your best friend being publically humiliated and borderline sexually assaulted, what in the hell are you smiling for. I’ve tried to argue that she’s not laughing at Snape, she’s getting flustered by James’ antics. But no, that doesn’t make sense either. At that point, she’s still very turned off by him, and she calls him a toerag only a few lines later. His show-off is precisely what she dislikes about him. This would not be charming to her even if she already had a crush.
One explanation I’ve seen is that the friendship was one-sided from Snape’s end. She pitied him when they were kids, got sick of him at Hogwarts and then dragged this dead horse of a friendship around for five years before finding a way out. Meaning that she laughed because she genuinely thought Snape being bullied was funny. And to be honest, I hate this interpretation. It’s just sad, but not in an interesting way. There’s no tragedy there. It reminds me of those fanfics on Wattpad where the love interest was only fake-dating Y/N as a joke.
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It’s wildly unrealistic, renders Snape’s sacrifice kind of meaningless, makes him seem like a total idiot and her like an evil harpy. I’m rejecting it on principle.
So… then what? Lily just has a lack of empathy? Demonic possession? Honestly, it seems as likely that Joanne(derogatory) had not quite figured out what their relationship was supposed to be. Because it makes perfect sense if they don’t really know each other, doesn’t it? The smile emphasises that Snape is socially ostracised. The fact that she composes herself emphasises that Lily is a moral figure and does not approve of James’ conduct.
If you have another interpretation that makes sense, please tell me! I’d love to know how others are reading this scene because I feel it’s essential to her characterisation but I’m just not quite able to get there yet.
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axel-skz · 11 months
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You’re not funny…
A/N: I feel not tired at all and kind of nauseous. I think I’m severely dehydrated but drinking the water gives me even more nausea so… tf do I do? Write a fanfic and ignore my problems. I did not proof read it and It’s not a literary masterpiece so please, lower your expectations lol (shuffled my stray kids playlist and we got thunderous this time ;) for our boys thunderous dance moves (I mean that was terrible but I wanna play a song for every fic now so, yeah lol))
Summary: Minho is expecting a nice weekend together that he needed very much but you’re planning to play a prank.
Minho x Gender neutral reader
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Minho had been getting frustrated very fast lately. Getting burnt out a lot because this comeback had been so demanding. He could see all the work coming too because they had been told, they were going on tour.
Now he was agitated because he was working all the time and he couldn’t spend time with his loved ones.
He knew what would make him feel better though. Spending time with you. All he was looking forward to all week was a whole weekend with you.
What he didn’t know was that the perfect storm was brewing. At the time where he wanted nothing but affection fhe most, you had the plan to play a prank on him.
You would try your best to swerve anytime he wanted a kiss or a hug. You had seen it on tiktok a lot recently and you just really wanted to try it out.
Horrible timing honestly but you had no idea.
He had called on monday and you would both be spending the weekend together. He hadn’t told you about the tour either because he hadn’t got the chance to. You would never be playing this prank if you knew.
Friday afternoon, he arrives. You hear him knocking on your door and instantly, you ready yourself. Usually you would run to him in the most dramatic way possible and give him a hug. He acted like he hated it but it made him feel wanted.
While he thought about how much he needed that hug, you were making sure you wouldn’t do it. As you opened the door, he stood there for what felt like a century, expecting the hug. You looked st him with confusion.
‘You good?’ You asked with a puzzled look.
‘You usually hug me when you open the door,’ he also looked extremely confused.
‘Oh, you hate it so I thought I wouldn’t do it. Come in,’ you smiled at him. As he walked in, you took the things he was carrying. It was your way of busying yourself.
He let out a sigh as he sat on the sofa, ‘I’m so tired. I could barely sleep yesterday.’
‘Aww, that’s sad. Have you had a hard time sleeping for a while or just last night?’ You came back after putting his bag in your room.
He looked at you and you could see how tired he was, ‘all week. So much work and I just don’t even want to think about it. It’s early as hell but can we watch a movie and take a nap?’
Code for watch something and cuddle. He wasn’t one to just outright ask for physical contact so you had gotten use to recognising when he wanted it and how he asked.
‘Of course we can do that,’ you smiled at him and set up everything for a movie.
You got some sweets and popcorn with the softest blankets. You picked a feel good movie that you both really liked and started to get settled. You played the movie and sat down on the floor.
He was surprised, ‘why are you on the floor? There’s plenty of room on the sofa.’
‘You should stretch out and get comfy. It’ll be easier to fall asleep. I have some work I need to do so I’ll sit here and do it when you fall asleep,’ you said while feigning interest in the movie.
It’s like you could feel him pouting. And he was.
‘Could you not do the work tomorrow?’
‘I’m sorry, my love. It’s urgent. I need to get it in by the end of the day.’
‘S’okay…’ he covered himself in blankets and got comfortable. He didn’t let it show just how hurt he was by it.
He fell asleep after a little while. He woke up a couple hours later and you had nodded off while working on the floor. Your brief was on the table and he looked at it.
He tried to help you with your work sometimes because you liked his opinions on it. As he read through it, he noticed it wasn’t due for another two weeks. That hurt him again because he didn’t understand why you lied.
He moved back and laid back down. He didn’t know how long he stared at the cieling before you woke up. He pretended to sleep when you got up to check on him. You picked up your stuff after you fixed the blanket so it was covering him properly.
After that, you started cooking for dinner. He took a little while before he got up. He acted groggy as he walked into kitchen. You heard him shuffle in and it was so hard not to hug him when he looked so cute with the wayward hair and the puffy cheeks.
‘Sleep well?’ You asked as you moved to the fridge.
‘Mhm, something about this place helps me sleep,’ he smiled.
‘Pff- you’re so sweet,’ you giggled a bit as you gave him some juice.
‘I was talking about your sofa and the tv but whatever helps you sleep at night.’
You playfully glared at him, ‘they’re mine and they help you so ultimately, it’s all me.’
You began washing some extra pots as you let him know what you were cooking and that it was almost done. You felt him get up and walk over. As he got closer, you quickly put what you were washing down and moved away to the stove.
A look of hurt and confusion flashed on his face for a second but it was gone as fast as it came. He followed to look at the food but kept a little distance. He didn’t understand at all what was going on.
You guys set the table up and ate your meal.
He was extremely silent the whole time and it was a very awkward 25 minutes. He offered to do the dishes and as he grabbed the last one, he leaned in to kiss you out of habit as he said thank you. You swerved and this seemed to be his breaking point.
He froze for a moment but then put the plate down and kneeled next to you. He took your hands in his and he looked into your eyes.
‘Y/N, what have I done? I don’t remember doing anything to hurt you and that may also be bad but whatever it is, I’m sorry. Please just tell me and let me fix it,’ he looked so torn up inside and it hurt your heart to see him like that.
And then you broke. (Because you would be a menace to society if you didn’t finally tell him what was going on)
‘I’M SO SORRY! Hold on… I’ll explain,’ You pulled him off the floor and took him over to the sofa. You both sat down. ‘It was such a stupid idea but I saw this prank on tik tok and I wanted to do it.’
The sad look on his face hurt your soul, ‘so you don’t hate me?’
‘God no! I could never!’ You leaned forward and gave him a hug. ‘I’m so sorry! It was a stupid idea!’
He hugged you back in an instant. You were basically in his lap, his face hidden in your neck. ‘Can we just stay like this for a while?’
You nodded and hugged him harder, ‘Can I turn off the kitchen light first?’
‘I’ll pay your electricity bill.’
‘I was kidding,’ you smiled.
‘Someone has to tell you, you’re not funny,’ you could feel him smirk.
‘So mean and hurtful, for what reason?!’ You jokingly sniffled.
‘Feel my pain,’ he laughed.
‘If it makes you feel better, fine,’ you hugged him a little tighter. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘S’okay. I’m just glad it was a prank.’
‘I love you most.’
‘I love you even more’
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A/N: I’m thinking of a part two for this. I dont know. Cus I mentioned a tour so maybe it’s worth playing that out a bit. Lemme know what you think.
Please like and reblog and submit your prompts/requests :)
I’m writing anything that comes to mind right now so suggestions would be great.
[I’ve tried to look over it but if there’s anything that isn’t gender neutral about the reader, lemme know and I’ll fix it]
The following parts will probably not come and this was made as a stand alone story. If you’re still wanting to continue reading after this, go for it :) I just wanted to warn you cus if I were you, Id want someone to warn me.
Part 2
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thefangirlfever · 3 months
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The studious type (a Miguel O'hara fanfic, 18+, MDNI)
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Summary: Boyfriend Miguel helping you relax during your finals week.
Tags: F/M, afab reader, College AU, established relationship, smut, oral sex (F. receiving), Miguel being a munch (because I can), use of condoms, masturbation, thigh riding, PIV penetration, fluff, soft Miguel O’hara, a bit of dirty talk, aftercare
Note: Finals are not the only thing coming… Very self-indulgent. My first time trying this format, hope you like it.
I am too tired and I don’t have much time, so please, accept this blurb instead of a real story ToT
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Saying that you are anxious for your upcoming finals is an understatement. You keep on pulling all-nighter after all-nighter, taking micro nap sometimes, eating only instant noodles… Finals are really taking a toll on your physical and mental health. And it shows. You also start to get tired and more susceptible.
This doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, Miguel. Not only does he notice all of this but he also tries to help you as much as he can.
He also has to think about his own finals but that doesn’t stop him from texting you every day, making sure you’re eating enough, taking some naps and just to check on you in general. He is not really prone to public displays of affection or such things but he cares. And his way to show it is by his actions, as small as they may seem.
The two of you also had shared study session. It didn’t matter that you had different classes and majors. You would just keep helping each other, exchanging glances from time to time… And each time Miguel would feel you close to falling asleep, he would either tell you to rest or wake you up with a gentle nudge, depending on the time of the day.
Always brings your favorite snacks to make sure you have eaten at least one thing.
He doesn’t say it but you really amaze him. You’re always motivated, determined to do your best no matter what. One would even call you a perfectionist but that doesn’t bother him. He is really supportive of you in everything you make. You got a presentation? He’ll gladly listen to you as if he was your future audience. You could be talking about something he knows nothing about and he would still be 100% invested in your speech, asking questions afterward… You want to write a phd thesis? He got your back. You want to spend more time than it’s necessary on a paper because the topic matters to you? He will proofread you.
Needless to say, you gladly do the same for him. In fact he likes when you ask questions about what he is working on. And it’s actually endearing to see him geek out about things like dark energy, quantum physics and other things that would usually bore you to death.
After every study session, he walks with you to your bus/ subway station. You usually don’t talk much since you are both tired. Sometimes he would take your hand and slips his fingers between yours without saying anything about it.
Always texts you to make sure you did get back home safely.
You can be sure that the last day of your exam (or a few days after if his finals end later), the two of you will have one of your usual date nights.
Depending on how tired he is, he would either cook something or order take out. If he cooks something, you always make sure to bring something of your own. Even if he tells you that you don’t have to, he always ends up eating what you bring because he is a sweet tooth.
You’re usually too tired after finals to do anything else than just sitting on his couch, watching a movie the two of you probably already watched a hundred of times but that doesn’t matter. There’s something comfortable in what’s predictable.
And every part of this evening is predictable. From you falling asleep while the two of you cuddle to him gently playing with your hair in order to keep you awake. If it’s cold outside, you are wrapped under a warm blanket that covers each of your limbs. His hand that holds your waist slowly drifts to your thigh and draws lazy shape over it. He is not even thinking about it; it has become a habit of his.
Just like the way you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck while wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Was it the most comfortable position? Not. Did you care? Also no.
The night would usually end with Miguel having to carry you to bed since you passed out on the couch.
NSFW content ahead
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But sometimes the night would take an unexpected turn. All these days and even weeks spent studying had left the two of you filled with pent-up sexual frustration. And no alone time was the same as the intimacy you guys wanted.
You’re sitting on Miguel’s lap in front of the TV, but none of you are really paying attention to the movie at this point of the night.
He is too distracted by the scent of your hair since your head is so close to his face. His fingers playing with the locks of your hair are not enough for him. He has reached this part of the night where he wants more. He kisses the top of your head in an attempt to test the waters, see if you’re in the same mood.
He would make it look like it’s nothing, or an accident but the two of you know each other too well. After the third kiss, you understand what he has in mind. And you’ve been thinking the same thing all night long, if not longer. These last weeks have been nothing but frustration and you’re more than ready to give in.
You lean further into his embrace, clearly indicating your will to go further. You do this in a nonchalant way, as if it was nothing but he noticed the way your thighs brush against his and how you rest more of your weight near his crotch region.
The hand that was on your lower back supporting you slowly snakes up along your spine until it rests on the back of your neck. His free hand drifts toward your thigh to draw lazy shapes over it. But this time he is deliberately thinking about the moves he makes. His fingertips brush over you as if it was an accident once again, it’s barely a flicker.
The back of his fingers drag along the curve of your thigh, running over your skin until he reaches your knees. He repeats this movement over and over before gripping your thighs more intently. His fingers dig into your flesh, making you feel very aware of his presence behind you. He would usually use his thumb to draw small circles on your inner thigh, eliciting a trail of goosebumps all along.
While the two of you played this little game, you never look at each other. On your side, you still pretend that nothing’s happening, keeping your eyes on the TV but still pushing yourself more against him. He can feel your chest presses against his, your hair brushing his chin and at some point, you’re practically just sitting on his groin.
As the evening goes on, Miguel’s hands get bolder with his actions. He squeezes your thigh from time to time before eventually bringing it under your shirt, avoiding the spot you want him on on purpose. His warm touch on your stomach makes you squirm on top of him. The way your hips shift doesn’t help with his growing erection and his hand on your neck keep you in place, holding you in a careful but firm way.
Without saying a word, his fingertips dance their way over the curve of your belly. He makes sure to trace over the folds of your skin, of every roll on your tummy, to just explore and take in the softness of your belly. He can’t wait for the moment his face will make contact with it. Your skin is too smooth to resist it in his opinion.
You’re a blushing mess at this point and you don’t dare looking at what his hands are doing on you. Your breath gets a little more shallow with every stroke of his on your stomach. He leans closer and brings his face to the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin while making fun of you for not being attentive to the movie playing in the background. When he sees how flustered your are, he decides to act upon it.
“Got something else on your mind?”
You just nod your head and tighten your grip on his shoulder. But he has other plans for you. The hand behind your neck now grabs your waist and makes you sit still over his bulge. Your eyes are on the TV and your mind is on Miguel’s body.
His fingertips brush over your crotch, making you squirm more. Your butt rubs against his crotch and he can’t hide a smile this time. His fingertips barely tap over your crotch before his middle finger rubs over your slit. He then rubs two of his fingers over your groin, pushing his fingers against the fabric of your pants, rubbing his fingers in circle… When he gets too frustrated by the fabric covering you, he asks you if he can just take it off.
“Wanna feel you closer, muñeca...” That’s what he would usually whisper into your ear before kissing your earlobe. You can feel his warm breath, his voice almost shaking with desire as he toys with your zipper. A nod of you and your pants are pulled down your thighs. He doesn’t wait for you to remove them fully or even take off your underwear. His eager finger keeps rubbing you over the fabric of your panties until a damp spot appears in the front.
You lost the count of time as the minutes pass. You’re making a mess of yourself, rubbing yourself on him and when he finally pulls down your underwear and his hand cups your sex, the two of you let out a low moan. His fingers find their way through your bush and he rubs your labia, waiting for you to let him know when you’re ready to take him.
You bite down your lower lip and completely leans back against his body. He wraps his arm around you, holding you tightly and making sure you’re comfortable. Miguel then kisses your cheek. He rubs his nose against your skin, kisses your jawline before nuzzling his face in the crook of your nick, kissing and lapping at your skin.
The movie has already come to an end and in the silence of the room, your moans and Miguel’s heavy breath are the only thing that can be heard. His hooked fingers stimulate your clitoris and when you get comfortable enough, he starts thrusting them in and out of you, almost scissoring you.
He then brings his attention to your clitoris, rubbing it in slow motions. He can feel it throbbing under his fingertips and that makes him moan against the skin of your neck. His warm breath raises all the small hair on your nape and you’re getting hot and bothered. His words aren’t helping either.
“I’ll be damned if I don’t taste you before the end of the night. Been craving this pussy of yours for day now...”
When he catches you trying to relieve yourself of all the tension, he whispers “What are you doing?” There’s no anger in his voice, just pure astonishment. “You know you could just ask…”
The mischief in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you. He likes seeing you this needy and you can feel it. Your body writes on top of him and your shoulders slouch down when you whisper his name. You know what he wants to hear and you finally surrender when the teasing gets too overwhelming. “Please, Miguel…”
Your needy voice gets him to smile again. He leaves an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck before pulling his fingers out. He wouldn’t mind having his way with you here and there but he has more self-control than that. He gently kisses your shoulder before lifting your body up.
He usually carries you to the bedroom, helping you lay down the bed while the two of you undress. When your clothes are discarded on the floor and he is busy looking for the box of condoms in his nightstand, you take a good look at him. You watch his figure being drawn by the shadows in the room and your gaze lingers on his back. From his shoulders to the small of his back, your eyes trail down his spine. You smile when you see his back dimples and he catches you staring.
With a cheeky grin on his face, he gets back on the bed. You’re expecting a kiss but his lips land on your stomach. His face rests against your skin while he kisses you all over the smooth surface of your belly. Maybe it’s the scent of your lotion. Maybe it’s the way he can feel your breath catching up. Maybe it’s how close he is to your arousal and can literally smell it… he doesn’t know exactly what makes him love him love this moment but he never gets tired of kissing you there.
Of course he has to taste you after that. Each of his kisses send an electrifying feeling to your body and you can feel yourself growing more aroused. When he starts eating you out, you wrap your legs around his head and this feeling immediately gets stronger.
One of his hand holds your thigh while the other keeps teasing you. His fingers keep thrusting in and out of you while his tongue focuses on your clitoris, sucking and licking. When he feels you close, he keeps his pace steady, focused on only one thing. You. Your thighs quivering around his face, your hands holding his hair, your soft moans… He has waited too long for that and when you finally relax and release all the pressure inside you, he growls against your lips.
He quickly wipes your juice off his chin and gets up. His body towers over you, watching the aftermath of what he did to you. His thumb rubs over your sticky thighs and with his free hand, he brings his cock closer to you. You can see the red and swollen head of his member rubbing against your clit while a few moans escape his throat. He throws his head backward, his shoulders quivering as he feels himself growing more impatient.
He is still careful when he penetrates you, using a tad of lube to make this easier. And the fun part is that he gets to tease you more while rubbing it over your entrance. You wait patiently, at least you try, with your hands gripping the sheets while he gets you prepped up.
Everything feels worth it as soon as you feel him moving inside of you. He keeps his pace gentle, making the moment last as longs as possible. You’ve both been waiting too long for this for it to end too soon. Your limbs are entangled over the sheets and he melds into you. You brush away a few strands of hair from his face and he leans his cheek into your palm. His lips place a few kisses on your hand and even your wrist.
You both make sure to never break eye contact, reading on the other one’s face his emotions. He can see from your red cheeks and parted lips that you enjoy this moment. With one hand on your cheek, he leans closer and kisses the tip of your nose before whispering sweet nothings to you. It could be about how he likes your scent, your eyes, or even how good you feel wrapped around him…
Your hands travel down his back that you were admiring earlier and grabs his butt cheeks firmly when he starts to fasten his pace. You keep guiding him with not only your expressions but also your words. When he gets closer to his release, his shoulders lock tightly and you can feel every muscle on his body flex.
He is not really vocal in this moment and usually a few groans let you know that he reached his climax. However he likes hearing your small whimpers while your body writhes and arch under him. He watches you reaching your orgasm with a content smile before kissing your forehead, telling you how good you were.
The two of you stay in bed a few minutes after this moment. He doesn’t usually pull out immediately after, letting you feel him inside of your walls as his member gets back to its usual size. Even after that, you’re still locked together in a tight hug. He knows he will have to let you go at some point but for now he just wants to keep you inside his arms as long as he can.
The aftercare can vary depending on your mood. If the two of you are in a good mood or still feeling playful, you keep exchanging a few kisses. Miguel’s fingers keep running over the curves of your body, especially your stomach and your thighs. On your side, you like letting your fingers run down his spine until you reach the small of his back. Your fingers then brush against his skin in slow circles. He both loves and hates when you do that. You know he is very sensitive down there and he can’t hold back a few moans.
Some days he would help you get into your pajamas while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. You don’t speak that much these days but the silence is not awkward. It’s rather comforting. His fingers run down your hair and he can’t help but take in the scent of your curls. He watches you detangle your hair after a long day of work. This has easily become one of his favorite rituals of yours. When you’re done, his fingers run smoothly down your hair and he watches you in awe braid it, helping you when you ask for it. You can be sure that as soon as your nape is exposed, he will kiss it gently.
It usually doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep after this. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, even though he knows you will probably move too much during your sleep for it to be really useful. But he doesn’t care and you nestle yourself against him.
==========================================
Note: This was supposed to be really short but I got carried away ToT
Thansk for reading.
142 notes · View notes
pedrostylez · 5 months
Text
Something Else - pt. 8
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pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader
chapter summary: Frankie and Benny confront Santiago and Will, and the leadup to the mission
rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit
word count: 6.4k
warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, ptsd, mention of drugs, smut, p in v, honestly pretty tame, tears, drinking, bars/club
A/N: Aaaaannnnddd we’re back! After rude anons and a mini break while I tried to remind myself that this is just for fun, I’m back with part 8. A huge and massive shout out to Hemmy, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for not just cheering me on, and beta reading, but also helping me dissect my own brain to make sure my worries about how I write these characters were put to rest. Imagine the conspiracy theory gif? That was her with spreadsheets. Thank you so much for helping me and being just what I needed. There is 1 more drabble and 1 more part and then that is the end of Something Else! How spooky and scary! There is no timeline for posting at the moment, but just a heads up!
Anyways, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. There is this lovely little arrow at the top left when you start reading that if you don’t like it anymore, you can click on it to stop reading. However, I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you! 
Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos
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Frankie’s anxiety is at an all time high going back to the hangar to tell Santiago that he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t settle, even though he wasn’t the only one-that Benny didn’t want to go again. To be retraumatized again. 
His anxiety was put to rest when he stepped into the garage, boots echoing on the concrete to Santiago and Will sitting at the folding table in the corner. A sudden calm over his nerves when he saw Pope’s face. “Fish!” Will exclaimed shortly, nodding at him to come over. 
Frankie approached the table and sat down across from the two of them, sighing heavily before clearing his throat. Pope looked like he wasn’t doing well; like he had lost sleep with the bags under his eyes.  “I’m not going.”
It’s quiet for a moment before Santiago starts to apologize. “Frankie, I didn’t mean to put you–”
“Stop,” Frankie holds his hand up, taking a deep breath. “I’m not ready to go now, but…in a year? I could…I could be ready by then.”
“Should we really be planning that far in advance?” Will asks, tilting his head toward Pope. Still relying on who he thought should be the leader. 
The door to the garage already opened again, Benny standing off to the side as he listened in. He shook his head in mild disgust, addressing Will. “If we plan now we can avoid what happened last time.” Benny calls, hanging up his hat on the coat rack. “Because clearly it wasn’t planned well last time.”
Will shakes his head with a scoff. “Hey woah–”
“No, let me talk.” Benny stands at the table, tapping his fingers incessantly against the chair. “Frankie and I have changed.” His hand rests gently on Frankie’s shoulder, squeezing to try and tell him that he’s got this.  “We aren’t the same loyal dogs you brought last time Pope, and we can’t just go into this without some planning.”
Santiago nods, swallowing roughly. “I had a plan last time, it just…” He blinks, unable to finish his sentence. 
“It didn’t go well.” Benny nods, filling in the blanks. “Listen, I get it. You want all of us to be taken care of.”
“I want to make up for last time.” Santiago says quietly, flicking his eyes between Frankie and Benny. 
“Is the best way to do that by going back?” Frankie asks just as quietly, eyeing Pope. “How much of this is actually thought through?”
It’s silent for longer than before, as Pope swallows hesitantly. “I just…thought-”
“You can’t be in charge of this.” Benny states. “You’re too emotional, wanting to fix whatever happened. But we need to be logical, take the bull by the horns and think rationally. And you–” He points to Will. “You were just going to go along with this?”
Will shakes his head, pointing at Santiago. “What? No I thought he had a plan–”
“But you didn’t confirm it? Before calling Frankie incessantly and sending him almost over the edge and back to his dealer?” Benny exclaims, causing a silence to fall among the group. 
“You’re using again?” Santi asks breathlessly. 
“No! Stop.” Frankie turns to Benny. “I am fine. But we need to do what Benny says and handle this rationally. If we want to do this, then we need to be methodical.” Frankie stands his ground, looking between Will and Pope as they look at each other. 
Will finally nods, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right.” He crosses his arms and debates for a moment. “One year from today.”
Frankie and Benny nod, in unison. “One year.”
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1 Month Later
“Are you coming with us tonight?” You asked hushed into the phone. Anna is still in the bathroom, and you’ve snuck around the corner to her bedroom where you could speak to Frankie quietly. “I miss you.”
Frankie’s chuckle is dark through the phone, delicious against your ear. “I miss you too, hermosa.” A heavy sigh and some shuffling. “You said it was girls night weeks ago, I can’t crash it now.”
“You know Santi might!” You exclaim quietly, giggling when you hear Frankie’s huff. 
“No, he’s going to be here in maybe five minutes. We are going to review logistics.” You swear you can hear Frankie smile after the pause he takes to inhale. “What are you wearing?”
“Don’t start.” You say seriously, looking down at your clothes. You resist the urge to cringe at yourself, trying to step into this new found confidence that you’re trying to convince yourself you have. Anna had wanted you to have fun tonight, dress however you felt and she would be the one to watch over you. A change in the routine-something that you’ve noticed she’s been working on. Her ability to apologize and to turn things around had shocked you at first, but it was different-it was better. “You might die if you see it. Would be better if you didn’t come out, actually…”
“Well now I’ve got to know, baby.” Frankie muses, humming when you deny again. “Should I convince Pope that we need to go out?”
As you’re about to answer, Anna steps into her bedroom with a pointed look. “We agreed on girls only! No boys!”
You laugh at the same time that Frankie does, telling him you’ll see him later before hanging up and putting your phone into your purse. “Alright! It’s gone.”
“Good.” Anna laughs, brushing out her hair one more time in the mirror. Her jeans are riding low on her hips, crop top showing off her belly button as she turns to you. “How’s my outfit?” She asks quietly, almost timidly.
“Very belly forward.” You joke, looking down at what you borrowed from Anna’s closet again. You hear her giggle and sigh as you mess with the dress painted on your body, blue and sparkling, strapless with fake sleeves, a cut out just below your chest. This is out of your comfort zone.
You feel slightly self conscious, adjusting until Anna’s hands stop yours. “You look amazing honey. If Frankie doesn’t have a heart attack when you get home later, then he doesn’t deserve you.” 
You smile, looking into her eyes for a moment before sighing. “Alright, I’ll trust you about this dress. It feels like it’s going to fall down.”
Anna giggles, picking up her phone when it vibrates and sighing. When you give her a questioning look, she shrugs. “Santi has been…strange, recently.”
You frown, following her to the door as she slips on her shoes. “Do you want to talk about it before we leave?”
She hesitates, debating in her head. “He’s just, really insecure right now after Frankie and Benny told him they weren’t ready to help him in South America.” She gives a rueful smile. “I don’t mean to bring up Frankie-”
“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head, yanking on her arm to bring her to the couch. Anna had updated you on what she had been told from Santiago a few weeks ago, and was flustered when you had told her all the information that Frankie had spilled so early on. While she knew a lot of it, there was some that she hadn’t-such as how their friend died. Anna was on this streak to be blunt with everyone around her, so she had confronted Santiago. “What’s he saying?”
She sighs, shaking her head. “I think I’m being impatient with him. He’s not…saying anything.” She furrows her brow in concentration. “I asked him how much money was on the line a couple weeks ago. He kinda just froze. Said he would take care of me. But I told him that wasn’t what I was asking and–” She hiccups, holding back tears. “Now it’s like he doesn’t hear anything I say. Just stares off into the distance, saying he shouldn’t be the leader of the group. I asked for details about Redfly and he just tells me that I wouldn’t understand the hell he has been through. What is that supposed to mean?”
You take a deep breath with her, nodding. “Give it time, Annie. From what Frankie said it seems like Santiago always has it together, and now he’s trying to…get his footing again.”
Anna nods, agreeing with you. “Yeah, I’m just being too impatient.”
You go to tell her that’s not the case, that she’s really just trying to navigate a situation with a man that doesn’t know what he’s doing either, but she stands suddenly and plasters on a smile. “Come on, let's have fun. Sprite for me, rum and coke for you.”
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You’re shit faced. 
It’s probably the first time in a while that you’ve actually had more than a couple drinks, which frankly has always been plenty, but tonight you’ve indulged much more. It reminds you of the first night you met Frankie, when you indulged and had to spend the night at his place, and you can’t help the smile that appears on your face, dancing with Anna in the center of the room. 
You never dance.
“You look fucking hot!” Anna yells in your ear, giving you a thumbs up before twirling and giving an excited squeal. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes!” You yell back, laughing at how ridiculous you’re both being, yelling to each other in the middle of a dance floor that very few people are attending around you. 
As it gets more packed, you squish closer to Anna, keeping a protective hand over her shoulder, her opposite hand on yours. You’re a wall together, only having fun with and for each other. The bass of one song begins to hurt your ears, wincing when the beat drops. You go to tell Anna, hoping that you both can step away from where the speakers are focused, when you feel a large hand slide on to your waist. 
Anna’s eyebrows come together in concern, looking around your shoulder to see who has their hand on you. She relaxes almost instantly, smile appearing. “Hey!” She yells, removing her hand from your shoulder. “I knew you would show up anyways!”
“Pope is by the bar, buying you a drink.” A familiar voice booms next to you, and you immediately know it is Frankie. You turn around in his embrace, watching the smirk on his face creep up into a smile when he looks down at you. “Hey, baby.”
“Hi, Fishy.” You slur, giggling when his eyebrows shoot up at your nickname for him. You hadn’t called him Fish, even after learning of the nickname. 
“How many drinks have you had?” He asks, leaning into your ear to speak more softly. He brings one hand up to your cheek, lightly stroking at your jaw with his thumb as if he knows the music is too loud for you.
You bite your cheek, swaying in his arms before holding up your hand. “Plenty!” You yell, slapping your hand on to your jaw over his fingers. “The music is too loud.”
Frankie nods, pulling you with him over to the bar. You’re smiling at him, eyes unable to move away from his face until he sits you down on a barstool with a quick kiss on the cheek. He looks over to  where Anna is leaning against the counter before raising his eyebrows subtly at you. Her arms crossed and annoyed next to Santiago. “Alright over here?” Frankie asks, resting his hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah, man.” Santiago calls, looking over to Anna who downs a shot. She looks over at you, softening her gaze. 
“Are you all set?” She asks, looking only at you.
You nod, pushing away from Frankie. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and then I’ll have Fishy take me home.” You hold your hand out for her, snatching it and letting her pull you along to the bathroom as Frankie watches you. He winks, making you giggle happily before stepping into the low lit room. “Are you okay? You want to come home with me instead of Santi?” You slur out. 
“No, it’s okay.” She sighs, laughing as you step into a stall and stumble to sit. “He and I need to talk anyway.”
You hum, sitting quietly before blurting out. “I feel hot in this dress, I get why you have so many now.”
You hear Anna laugh through the stall door, your coordination slow and clumsy as you stand. “It’s all about how you feel in the dress, honey.” You open the door, looking at her and smiling. “And, sometimes, it’s the alcohol too.”
-
When you say your goodbyes to Anna, hugging her tightly and waiting for her to get into Santiago’s truck, you’re whisked away by a smiling Frankie. “You’re very funny.” He muses, helping you into the passenger seat of his own vehicle.
“What did I do?” You question, pushing crunchy hair out of your face unsuccessfully. The hairspray you and Anna had thought you needed suddenly feels too heavy on your head.
“Fishy? Really?” He laughs, shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver’s seat. “Where did that come from?”
You shrug, tilting your head to look out the window as he pulls away from the curb. “It’s just the rum.”
He hums again, placing his hand on your knee and driving with just one hand. His thumb traces circles into your skin, causing you to break out in goosebumps that he smiles at. “That’s a very pretty dress, hermosa.”
You smile, looking at him and attempting to bat your eyelashes. You think you’re probably unsuccessful. “It’s sparkly.” You whisper. The sober part of your brain wants to hit you, as that was not what you intended to say. 
He chuckles, giving your knee a squeeze. “Very sparkly. Lots of skin too.” He husks out, pulling into a parking spot in front of your apartment. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
He helps you out of his truck, sliding your key out of your fingers to help you into the apartment. You sink into your couch, leaning back and eyeing him as he slips off his boots at the door, and his hat on your coat stand. “How was your meeting with Santi?”
“Good.” He confirms, standing straight and walking over to you. “Need help with your shoes?” He smirks when he kneels down and you gasp, nodding happily with a blush painting your cheeks. God, him on his knees– “No funny business tonight.”
You give a small pout as his fingers clasp the strap, wiggling it through the buckle and sliding it off your arched foot. You sigh happily when he sets it down on the carpet, moving to the other foot. “Got some things planned out for this trip, and we’ll make some adjustments as needed. Need to get a bank ready too, even though it seems too soon.”
“Anna and Santiago are having issues.” You hiccup, watching as he looks up your legs before to your face. “She says he just stares off into the distance.” 
He nods, patting the side of your leg. “He’s upset. Thinks he’s going to let us down.” Frankie admits, wincing when you frown. “Do you need help putting on pajamas? Or can I make us some food and you won’t fall asleep on the bed?”
You clock that he has changed the subject, but can’t help it when you say. “You don’t want to help me? Take off this dress?” You wiggle your shoulders as tantalizingly as you can, making him laugh. 
“As tempting as that is hermosa, you get too handsy when you’re tipsy.” He laughs, helping you to stand and petting the hair in your face to be behind your ear. “Go get changed, I’ll make you something.”
You watch him go to the kitchen, pouting for a moment longer before flouncing into the bedroom and finding comfortable pants and a shirt of Frankie’s he had left recently. You could get used to this.
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6 months later
Frankie finishes the sentence on the page in front of him, glancing his eyes up to your face. He sees the way you’re biting your lip, anxiously tapping your foot against the carpet. “Querida–”
“You can tell me it’s bad.” You spit out, running a shaking hand through your hair. “I have to read this to the class, and if it’s not good then you need to tell me. I have to rewrite it.” The clock is ticking as far as you’re concerned, and Frankie is acutely aware of it. He has tried to coax you away from the assignment, over and over to no avail. You’re dead set on finishing it. 
“No.” Frankie says firmly, smiling at you as he holds the page close to his chest. “It’s beautiful. Really, really good.” He means it, to his core. Just as he had with all your other work, but something about this one was different.
Your face softens, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck at the tone of his voice. “You’re just saying that?” You question, holding out your hand for the piece of paper. 
He shakes his head, refusing to give it up. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” He says quietly, looking down at your words again.
Your poetry was what he would describe as easy. Smooth reading, vivid in painting a picture, without large and confusing words for dummies like him. He could feel your voice, hear you in his head as he read it silently. Ever since you had taken the courage to start school again in creative writing, he could see the improvements. He could see the passion as you sat next to him most nights, his couch or yours, scribbling away until you were satisfied, leaning against him to fall asleep after the words had consumed your every thought. Between your class and him being at the hangar more, he had opted to start driving you to work just to spend more time with you.
You cleared your throat, shaking your hand at him to give back your work. He stood, taking a couple steps over to you and setting the paper on your desk. Leaning in, his lips pressed softly to your forehead. “I want to see your name on a book.” He whispered quietly. 
You gasped, eyes wide as you pulled away from him. “I’m nowhere near close to something like that!”
“Eventually.” He shrugs, resting his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place. “Your cute little smile on the back cover.” He smirks, squeezing the tension out of your muscles. “You’re talented, baby. You’ll write poetry for a generation. Do you hear me?”
You try to brush him off, but he’s not having any of it. He refuses to let you speak negatively about your writing as he leans over you and presses kisses to your face, over and over until you are giggling in delight. He laughs with you, pressing a final kiss to the underside of your jaw and holding his breath as he feels you relax against him. “I hear you.” You sigh, eyeing him sleepily. 
“Good.” He husks, pulling you away from your desk and on to your bed, where his hands find purchase at your thighs. You hum as he maneuvers you to be cuddled against him, legs wrapped around his body and his arms around your shoulders. His hand trails up and down your back slowly, soothing himself as your breathing gets heavier with each passing of his fingers. “Relax with me.”
It isn’t long before you nod off with the setting sun, exhausted from self-induced stress and worry of the assignment you took on. Frankie feels you slack against him, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dream, warm in his embrace. He feels peaceful, after months with you supporting him and him returning it for you. 
Frankie shuts his eyes at the thought of how close he was to caving into his addiction when Santiago first suggested going back. How you, unknowingly, had kept him grounded enough to seek the help he needed. 
“You can’t rely on just one or two people, Francisco.” You said quietly, eyes flicking to Benny who was sitting in the corner of his couch. He nodded along with your words. “It’s your decision on what to do, and I’m so thankful you’ve been honest, but I need your help in finding what works best for you.”
“Do you want to do AA or therapy?” Benny gruffed out bluntly, wincing when you shot him a look in warning. 
Frankie laughed quietly, shaking his head from the doorway. It wasn’t the ambush he thought he would get, but it was the appropriate one. “The AA meetings around here aren’t great. So, which therapist is it then?”
He feels lucky to have you. 
You adjust in his hold, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply. The humid breath against his skin makes him smile, his hands twitching to tighten around you. He thinks he’s in love with you, whispering it into existing as you continue to sleep soundly in his arms. 
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1 year later
You’re nervously pacing around your kitchen, phone stuck to your ear as Anna tries to soothe you. “They’ll be alright honey. This is why they waited the whole year, right?” Anna confirms, but you hear the sound of her biting at her nails. She’s nervous too. 
“Are you sure you’re okay with me talking about this?” You cringe, bringing your shoulders up to your ears as you hear the tell tale huff of her trying to control her emotions. She’s been sad-it’s been months since the girls night out where her and Santiago broke up, but Anna continues to be the sounding board for your nerves about Frankie going to South America. 
“Yes, of course it’s okay that you talk to me about this.” You hear running water through the line. “I still…care about him. You already know how I feel about Santiago. He needs to do this before he’s normal again and Frankie is your boyfriend, you’re allowed to be concerned about him. This is…not a typical thing to have to deal with.” Anna amends, the water stopping and a dull thump. “These dishes have to be soaked anyway.”
“I knew you were doing dishes.” You say triumphantly, stopping in your tracks and looking to your own sink. You had avoided doing dishes for a couple days, and now you thought they were piling too high. Maybe you should do some too…
“Focus, honey.” Anna giggles, taking a deep breath. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Well…they could die. And we won’t know.” You immediately blurt, tears threatening to bubble over at the mention of it.
Anna hums thoughtfully, carefully answering. “Frankie won’t keep you wondering.” 
You nod, forgetting she can’t see you. “I know.”
“It’s alright to be scared.” She whispers through the phone, and you swear you hear her sniffle. “You love him, don’t you?”
“We haven’t…” You stutter at the thought, a soft knock on the door before Frankie’s head peeks around the corner of your entryway. He smiles, silently stepping in and sliding off his boots. “He’s just gotten here.”
“I’ll text you.” She sighs. “Keep me updated tomorrow? Love you.”
“Of course, love you.” With a quick click, you slide your phone into your back pocket and turn to Frankie, whose hands are in his pockets as he observes you. “What?”
He shrugs, smirking. “You look wound tight, querida.” 
You scoff, walking toward the couch and sitting heavily. “Well, one of us should be.” You mumble, pushing him away from you half-heartedly when he sits down and wraps an arm around you. 
Frankie waits for you to settle, watching you intently as his eyes flick back and forth between your lips and eyes. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” He says lowly, tightening his hand around your shoulder. 
“I’m asking because…I’m concerned.” Frankie was running his fingers through his hair like his life depended on it, yanking at the roots before sitting down on your couch. “Do you remember how you shut down in the coffee shop? What happened there?”
Frankie had been more open about his feelings since starting therapy, and you wanted to encourage that. Sitting down next to him, you sigh. “I was insecure.”
“Why?” Is his immediate response. He didn’t understand how you could be insecure-he was absolutely infatuated with you. 
“I thought that Anna wanted to…try and…” You shuffle and readjust, embarrassed next to him. “It feels silly now, but I thought she wanted to like…take you away from me. Even though we weren’t together.”
Frankie pauses tilting his head. It suddenly clicks in his head, the day he was hiding in your closet and the face you made after her comment. “Was she serious? That day I was hiding?”
You shake your head. “No, no. She and I have this, stupid running joke from high school that I grew out of and she…well she didn’t. And, I didn’t tell her sooner–”
“Why?” Again Frankie pushes, clenching his teeth. 
“So many questions.” You smile as he leans back, mumbling to himself to chill out. You take a deep breath and try to start somewhere in the story that makes the most sense. “A couple years ago, I was trying to rebound off a guy that had been dating me that was really in love with her.” He grumbles more, not giving a true response but frowning deeply. “And the rebound, he was just a fuck boy…didn’t mean anything, but I was getting attached because it had been so long since I felt like someone wanted me, you know? And he had sex with Anna in the bathroom like that night anyway.”
“She knew you liked him and fucked him anyways?” Frankie’s anger is apparent now, and your cheeks heat with both embarrassment and happiness. Frankie being protective over you was a nice change. 
“I thought she knew, yeah.” You say quietly. “But she didn’t know. I’m giving her a chance to…fix it.” 
Frankie pauses, trying to go through his memories of Anna interacting with him before he cuts them short and grabs your hands. “Thank you for telling me.” He brings your hand up to his mouth, peppering kisses to your knuckles until you lean back on the couch with him. He pauses when you sigh, a small smile appearing as you look at him. “I don’t like guessing what you’re feeling.”
You nod, clearing your throat of any lingering emotion. “I’m working on it.”
A final kiss to your cheek before he squeezes your hand. “We can work on it together.”
You take a deep breath, trying to avoid his gaze. You’re still trying to make sure you say exactly what you’re feeling-no room for guessing. No room for error, just like you both had agreed on. “I’m worried.”
He hums, bringing his other hand up to your cheek and lightly tracing your jaw. “I am too. Anything specific?”
You bite your lip, wincing at how the immediate thought was of him dying. “I’m worried about whether you will be okay.” You whisper, trying your best to hold back tears. 
You don’t succeed when Frankie tilts his head and blinks slowly at you, a small but sad smile appearing on his face. His thumb brushes under your eyes, willing your tears away. “You know there’s a plane ticket for you, for two weeks from now, to come down there with a list of locations and names if you don’t hear from me.” He whispers back. “Do you want me to not go?”
You scoff again, pulling your face away from his hold and wiping at your own eyes. “Of course I don’t want you to go.”
“But do you really not want me to go?” He asks again, resting his hand on your knee. 
You pause, shaking your head. “That’s not up to me.”
He waits, squeezing your leg to get your attention back on him. “Let me bring back this money, with all of us in one piece.” 
You nod, letting tears flow freely now. “I’m scared, Francisco.” 
He gasps lightly, the sound of his full name rare to come out of your mouth. “I’m scared too.” He goes to stand, but falls on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs to let him shuffle between them, to be closer to you. “Look at me, baby.” He pulls your attention with a sudden jolt at how serious his tone has become. “I can’t make promises to you. I can’t tell you I will come back without it eating at me while I’m there. I would hate to make you a promise and for the worst to happen. But everything has been thought of, from every angle possible.”
You nod, wiping at your face again. He grabs at your wrists, holding you firm before pulling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours. He pushes his tongue against yours, aggressive in how he shows his want for you, and something tells you that he needs it like this–that its the only way to distract him from his own worries. 
You think it will distract you too. 
Burying your hands into his hair, you press your mouth to his desperately again. He groans in surprise, but lets you lead and slides his hands down your sides, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You pull back enough to nip at his jaw, at the bald spot in his beard before sucking a mark into his skin.
He hisses, pulling you flush to him and silently lifting you and himself, blindly walking toward your bedroom. You stay attached to his neck, desperate for something he can feel for the next few days while he is gone. He drops you on the bed, laughing when you squeak in surprise and bobbing up and down on the mattress as he reaches for the band of your shorts. 
You’re trying to commit it to memory. The sound of his moans, his laugh, the way his skin slides against yours. There’s this voice deep in your brain warning you to not forget, because you don’t know what will happen. It distracts you enough that suddenly you look up when Frankie calls your name, waiting for your eyes to flick to his. “Come back to me, baby.”
You shakily inhale, reaching for him to lean over you rather than sitting above, pressing your lips to his again lightly. You’re naked together, skin to skin as he breathes deeply and watches you. The words are stuck in your throat, dry and unable to emerge. 
Frankie brings one hand to your cheek, holding you steady. You feel his press against your center, wet with want and anticipation. “I love you, querida.”
You gasp at the words, him slowly sliding into you and holding his position fully seated inside. He groans, closing his eyes for a moment before locking them back on yours. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.”
“I hear you.” You whine, shutting your eyes tightly and wincing at the feeling in your heart-how it breaks that he might not come back. “I love you.”
He sighs in relief, sliding out of you before pressing in again and setting a slow pace. “That’s it baby. Take me. You’re so fucking good for me, huh?” He holds himself above you, leaning back to sit up straight as he watches you squirm, clutching at the bed sheets, for one of his arms. He keeps eyes contact with you as he gathers spit in his mouth, letting it slowly drop on to your clit before pulling back again and setting a rougher pace. “Fuck–I love you so much.”
You begin to cry, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you, of the feeling of him loving you. He leans forward worriedly, asking if you’re alright but continues when you dig nails into his back. “Keep going. Fuck–p-please.” 
He shushes you, keeping close to you as he brings you and himself to release. He whispers how much he loves you, and you to him, resting on top of you while still inside. You revel in the feeling of each other, only realizing you’ve started to doze off when he leans away. “You’ll either love it, or you’ll hate it.”
You frown, confused by what he’s saying while trying to be conscious enough to understand. Frankie slides off the bed, naked as he walks back into your living room and shuffles around in the duffle he brought with him. 
When he comes back he smiles, hands behind his back before kneeling on to the bed and relaxing next to you. He pulls his hat out from behind him, holding it out to you expectantly. “I…I want you to hold on to this.”
With shaking fingers you reach out, rubbing the worn fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “Are you sure? It’s your favorite.”
He smiles, nodding. “Yeah, baby. Don’t want to lose it in the jungle.” Your breath hitches, tears coming to your eyes. You nod, watery and worn as you lean into him for a hug. You feel his own breath hitch with your ear against his chest. “I love you, baby.”
You sniffle, trying to control yourself. “I love you too.”
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You swallow your tears as Frankie drives up the long dirt road to the hangar. “Covertly leaving.” He said early this morning, kissing you lightly at the crook of your neck. “Don’t want to be stopped at the airport like last time.” 
He can feel your nerves, and he works hard to keep his own at bay as he holds on to your knee. The bumpy road doesn’t affect you like it did on the first date, the early morning light just barely peeking over the horizon. 
You’ve been silent since you left the apartment with him, stoic in how you present. You’re trying to keep it together. 
When Frankie pulls up to the building, Will’s truck is tucked behind a few trees and covered with a tarp just as planned. You’ve been given explicit instructions to drive Frankie’s truck back to your apartment and to work as if he is staying with you, as well as where all of the paperwork is for what he owns and who to contact. You’re a crucial part to the plan. 
Frankie grabs his spare hat from the backseat, old and ratty, placing it on his head with a sigh. He swallows roughly as he steps out and around to your side, opening the passenger door to find you still sitting and staring straight forward. “Alright?” 
You nod, grabbing onto his outstretched hand and hopping out of his truck. You clear your throat as you step into the hangar, Frankie’s fingers squeezing yours briefly before he stepped away to the helicopter that had been brought in for the mission. You stand awkwardly at the doorway, eyes flicking over to the other boys who are around the folding table where hot coffee is made. 
“Up early, aren’t you?” Santiago’s voice filters through your thoughts, his gentle smile filling your vision. 
“A-a little.” You flash a smile, accepting the coffee from Santi’s outstretched hand and holding it with shaking fingers. You hope it will keep your hands warm. 
Santiago stands in front of you awkwardly, watching Will and Benny gather duffles and loading them into the helicopter while Frankie does his routine of checking the helicopter in the pit. Santiago’s brow furrows for a moment before he looks up to you again. “Is…a-are you and Anna, doing better?”
The question disarms you, shaking your head in confusion. “Yeah, of course.”
“Good. I just ask because…well, you know.” Santiago clears his throat awkwardly again. “Sorry, I uh…is Anna doing okay?”
You sigh, seeing where this is going. “She’s okay. Yeah.” You pause for a moment, debating how much to share. “She…worries about you.” 
Santiago’s eyes brighten in what you think is hope before dampening. You stare at it for a long moment, his eyes are dark, tired and drooping. He looks to be frowning, but you think it’s just how his face has stayed since him and Anna broke up. “I worry about her too.”
He nods at Frankie as he approaches, stepping away without another word. His hand rests on the small of your back, your hands still clutching the cup of coffee Santiago gave you. It’s purple out now, the sun filtering through the trees in a way that makes everything appear different. The air is still crisp, biting against your skin. 
When Frankie turns you to face him, his fingers pushing your chin up to look him in the eye. “It’s time for you to go home, baby.”
You breath catches as you nod. “O-okay.” You swallow before blurting out. “Please be safe.”
He blinks slowly, smiling. “Two weeks. I left my wallet on my bedside, I want you to buy yourself groceries while I’m away with my card.” You go to tell him no, but he stops you with a heavy sigh. “I love you. Do you hear me?”
“Frankie, I’m not using your card, there won’t be a trace of you leaving anyways. I’ll drive your truck I swear–”
“Do you hear me?” He interrupts, holding you still as he looks to be committing you to memory. 
You sigh, nodding once. “I love you, too.”
You wait by the driver’s door of his truck, as he takes a step back. “Buy food with my card. Not because of the mission, but because I want you to eat. Two weeks, and I’ll be back.” He says quietly, waiting for you to open the door and drive away. 
It’s awkward for a moment, as your mind is racing but your body is still. “Right. Two weeks.” You agree, finally turning to his truck and shutting the door. You look at him as you start the ignition, pulling the gear into reverse. He stands in the drive as you go down the dirt road, watching him in the rearview mirror. He stands tall, hands in his pockets as he watches you before waving just once. Tears sprout out of your eyes the moment he disappears over the hill.
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