#garth studies

[castielsprostate]

the thing about garth is that he literally broke the cycle. he got!!!! out!!!!! he became what everyone was supposed to fear and hate and he!!!!!! broke!!!! the!!!!! fucking!!!!!! cycle!!!!!!!!!!!!! he got a house and a family and HAPPINESS!!!!!!!! HE BECAME A DENTIST!!!!!!!!! and he. broke. the. cycle. and he SURVIVED. he SURVIVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he didn't have luck, or final girl syndrome or god or anything cosmic on his side. BUT HIMSELF!!!!!!! and he!!!! FUCKING!!!! DID!!!!!! IT!!!!!!!! HE BROKE THE CYCLE!!!!!!! AND HE SERVED CUNT WHILE DOING SO

[garthglaz]

Pixel Weather, "Pinball Sunset Over M-27"

This sky was created from the inspiration of a photo I took locally in a mall parking lot. Big cloud skies require a big space to realize their full drama.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

sorry I will drop this after today but I think it's so interesting that when I make writing posts/content geared toward helping writers feel better about their processes, helping writers feel less isolated/overwhelmed in the vast ecosystem of writing advice that exists online now, etc, the assumption is then that you can't do that AND also critically engage with writing craft. that is very revealing.

anyway my whole thing is centering joy in the process because that's not an easy thing to do in a capitalist context where it's assumed all artistic endeavours MUST monetarily meet the public eye because moneyyyyyy. & how I centre joy is by doing what I wanttttttt. my instinct will never be to commodify a craft I love.

[basofy]

don't let miguel be sleepy he starts posting yaoi in the lisa tag

[lovebirdgames]

DnD/Fantasy AU! What would the boys' races be? (Cadence would be human)

Sorry for the wait! I’M GLAD YOU ASKED because I’ve been meaning to draw this forever since I’ve been obsessed with Baldur’s Gate 3 (it basically makes up my DnD knowledge)! I had their race/classes jotted down in my notes for months. Here’s what I came up with, hope you like it!

[loverboydotcom]

not about poetry but i don't trust people who go online spewing vague declarations of "in order to write you need to understand Form And Structure!!!!" because there's prose fuckheads who do the same thing where they just vaguely say you need to understand Structure before you write a novel, but by structure they usually just mean the three act structure and the hero's journey and they've never studied or considered how structure can function beyond that, especially in non-western/non-english writing theories. the minute someone is like ohhhh but the Structure.....in a vague manner like that i'm like okay so you don't actually know structure because if you had deeply studied structure in writing theory as you claim to have done, you would know how complex and fluid and varied and malleable it is and it's not just one thing you Learn How To Do like putting a table together. and it's not something you will one day know perfectly because you will, ideally, encounter new ideas to structure a story as you expand your reading and your own writing. anyway i'm done for now i'm logging off to read more filthy animals by brandon taylor, potluck was such a good short story collection opener. i'm excited to see how he links these stories into a structured collection. i'm excited to read family meal by bryan washington when i'm done because he did a lot of fun things with really short + really long chapters in memorial and i learnt a lot about structure and pacing from there.

[arda-marred]

Regarding the fictional Sam Gamgee’s link to the First World War, Carpenter’s Biography quotes Tolkien as saying, “My ‘Sam Gamgee’ is indeed a reflexion of the English soldier, of the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.” A batman, in military parlance, was a soldier who (as well as being required to fight) was tasked with looking after an officer’s kit, cooking, and cleaning. Tolkien’s phrasing in the letter sent to Minchin is different, and very interesting too: “My ‘Samwise’ is indeed (as you note) largely a reflexion of the English soldier—grafted on the village-boys of early days, the memory of the privates and my batmen that I knew in the 1914 War, and recognized as so far superior to myself.” It gives the extra dimension that in portraying Sam, Tolkien had also drawn on memories of lads from the rural outskirts of Birmingham, where he had lived between the ages of three and eight. This dovetails well with his statement elsewhere that the society of the Shire is “more or less a Warwickshire village of about the period of the Diamond Jubilee” (Letters p. 230)—that is, a village like Sarehole in 1897, Queen Victoria’s 60th year on the throne and Tolkien’s fifth on earth. Amid all Tolkien’s astonishing inventiveness, and alongside the vast knowledge of matters mythological and medieval that he poured into his legendarium, this is a point too easily overlooked: contemporary life, especially the life he knew in his formative years, was a powerful well-spring of creativity in The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien’s comment to Minchin also provides support for a point I have made in various talks on how the Great War shaped The Lord of the Rings. By silently linking his hobbits with the boys of 1901, who had grown into the young men of 1914, Tolkien was able to draw directly upon the war into which he and those men were then hurled. He had seen, and felt, how war could change those who went through it. Many of the dangers he describes in The Lord of the Rings may be fantastical, though many are not and others are only symbolically so. But the fear, the resourcefulness, the demoralisation, the courage, the sorrow, the innocent laughter in the face of dreadful odds: all these things he had known, and he infused his fiction with them. This, and memories of those rural roots, bring the hobbits vividly to life.

[talentforlying]

why do people love you?

because you make them laugh. you're a firm believer that laughter is the best medicine. people always have a good time with you, forgetting all their troubles and wrapping themselves up in your love. you remind them of warmth and sunshine and make them feel adored. you have a tendency to use laughter to cover your pain, but remember it's okay to show some of that darkness once in a while. it makes you human.

tagged by: yoinked tagging: you!

[elijones94]

🐾 Jasmine the Lion from “Secondhand Lions” 🌽🦁

[letazieg]

Art nouveau study of my warlock Garth

[johnbrand]

Man-Up Camp

With @gassydumbjocks

Just to make it clear, Joel had no problems with his son being gay. Tanner had grown up a decent young man, now almost 25 and working in the bioengineering field. But throughout his childhood and adolescence, Joel has fostered quite the effeminate son. It made no sense regarding Joel's background. Obsessed with sports, passionate about drinking beer, supporting his family through thick and thin. He was not conservative, but such a traditionally masculine man should not have reared the pinkest pony on the block.

Science and gender studies over business and sports management, Christina Aguilera over Garth Brooks. Heck, Joel had even been excited to have the talk with his son, but instead the discussion turned into Tanner explaining how bottoming worked! All Joel had wished for was a real man of a son, someone he could be proud of. So after hearing of a fantastical “Man-Up Camp”, Joel decided to send his son in. Tanner was almost past the point of young adulthood, so Joel did not want to waste any more time than necessary.

Everything happened fast after Joel’s payment had gone through. Tanner had exited the lab building for the night after a long day of research. Minding his own business and walking on the sidewalk while listening to the music, he had not even noticed when the camp's van suddenly pulled up beside him. Out hopped two burly men, and suddenly Tanner felt a sharp prickling in his neck followed by another in his side. Once out cold, the men were easily able to haul the twink into the van and head off to camp.

When Tanner eventually awoke, he was greeted by a taller lad with tanned skin, a beefy frame, and an already-noticeable obnoxious personality. The hunky man was only wearing some gym shorts, airing out his musk into the small, concrete room. 

"Wha…what’s going on?” Tanner’s high voice squeaked, noticing he was tied up. 

“Welcome to Man-Up Camp, bro!”

Within a moment’s notice, the jock approached and quickly shoved his victim’s head into one of the hairiest armpits Tanner had ever seen. After about 30 seconds, the jock released Tanner, revealing the twink’s sweat and funky grime-covered face.

"Thought you’d like that, sissy boy,” the jock taunted, motioning to Tanner’s small, erect dick before leaning in with a:

BOOUUUURRRPPP!

"Ugh, god..." Tanner grumbled as he swallowed the nasty smoke. Before he could recover, the jock had already turned around, raising a leg before grunting.

PPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!

The putrid smell dove right for Tanner, penetrating into his skin as it was absorbed. This process of funk exposure would continue for a few hours. The jock would go back and forth between all different methods of emanating stench, a way of directing pure masculine DNA.

As Joel had read online, the unadulterated toxicity would erode away at the drugged client, contaminating until their being was soaked in what was deemed as “undeniably alpha”. In the end, the trauma would restructure Tanner's memory to appropriate the results.

———

Nervously, Joel knocked on the door of his son’s apartment. Tanner had returned from the Man-Up Camp two days ago, but the program had advised not to visit clients for at least 48 hours to help solidify the marination process. Now, Joel stood before his decision, wracked with excitement and guilt. He had not agreed with all the program’s promises, including the conversion, but his desperation for a manly son sat stronger. Joel just hoped he had not gone too far.

“If it ain’t my old man!” A booming voice greeted from the entryway. For the first time ever, Joel had to look up to make eye contact with his son. “I was just about to leave for a game with the boys, wanna come?”

Joel took in his new son. Gone was the short flamboyant nerd; what now stood before him was the epitome of masculine identity. Tanner was tall, muscular, and hairy. Just by peering into the apartment, it was clear his priorities had shifted. While once impeccably decorated, Tanner’s home was now filled with cheap generic furniture, discarded takeout leftovers, and dirty clothes scattered across the floor.

After being blasted by the funk wave that emanated from his new son, Joel agreed to join him. In response through burps, Tanner spelt out a “G-R-E-A-T B-R-OURP!” right into his father’s face.

Over the rest of their time together, Joel simply sat on the sidelines studying this new man. He could not help but take in every inch of Tanner's physical and mental testosterone. The camo baseball hat, the scruffy beard, the lightly-dusted pecs, the massive dong swinging freely in the workout shorts, the giant shoes clomping around the court. His interactions too, chest-bumping his bros when he scored a point and blasting the losers with smelly butt bombs. Tanner had become a dumber, grosser, obnoxious, bigoted version of himself: Joel could not have been more proud of his success. 

“Yo Pops!” Tanner shouted, adjusting himself freely. “You ever gonna join us or you just gonna fag out over there?”

Joel laughed. This new rowdier, cockier Tanner was gonna take some time to get used to. Perhaps Joel would just have to man-up himself.

[fellshish]

just felt like letting you know im makin my way through your spn bookmarks on ao3 and its saving my life 💚 do you have an ultimate-nothing-compares destiel faves from the bunch?

YES omg these are the fics that rewired my brain changed my life etc:

And this your living kiss (M, 56k): au where dean is a self deprecating former poet who used to write anonymously under the pen name jack allen. Now he’s finding his way back to loving poetry by taking a class at a college taught by professor novak… only he doesn’t know professor novak happens to be the number one jack allen scholar in the country. Amazing. Inspiring. I’ve reread it several times and it’s probably my favourite fic of all time

The cheapest room in the house (E, 89k): one of those fics whose writing i’m jealous of, it’s mind bogglingly good. And hot. The destiel grindr fic — cas downloads grindr and dean helps him. The rituals are SO intricate. But really, nothing i could say could do justice to how good this is.

Fenario (E, 47k): cas empty rescue fic. Certain paragraphs and scenes are just seared into my brain, amazing writing. I still think about “Cas’s legs give out and he pitches forward, falling the rest of the way into Dean’s lap in a mockery of a pieta” — that’s the point where i knew this fic was gonna become a fave

Right where you left me (E, 93k): cas comes back from the empty but it’s years later. He rings the doorbell and finds dean married. This fic was an event while it was still updating. Supremely well written and with an emotional maturity needed for the theme

Am I a man or am I a muppet (G, 7k): one of the funniest fics i’ve ever read. Dean wakes up as a muppet. Just roll with it! It’s crack, sure, but so good?? This inspired a scene in one of my gomens fics even

Burn this into your brains forever (E, 10k): to me this is an underrated fic for how funny it is. Fake dating between dean and garth but don’t worry, it’s a destiel fic

Half empty (M, 37k): more of a dean study. Reads like you’re dreaming and nothing makes sense. Dean is confused about everything. Kind of a mysterious vibe, excellent writing

There is rest for the wicked (G, 14k): sleepy, domestic dean. The destiel happens so…. Idk. Naturally. It’s a fic that really stays with you for a long time

Ninety one whiskey (E, 401k): one of thee destiel fics of all time. It’s famously a must-read and for good reason. A war fic, so quite heavy and not for everyone. But an absolute experience. I read the last few chapters in bed middle of the night tears streaming down my face. Simply iconic

A winter’s tale (T, 64k): this fic forever changed the way i see cas’ human arc on the show. Not super destiel-y but can be read that way. Again quite heavy. Northernsparrow is an excellent writer.

The dean winchester beat sheet (E, 144k): au where dean is in college and in complete and utter denial about his sexuality. So supremely funny. I will say this dean is not for everyone. But to me he is iconic and i think about certain scenes still. Forever changed the song i want to break free for me.

What has eight tentacles and isn’t allowed to eat pie? (T, 16k): basically uhhhh dean gets turned into an octopus. HEAR ME OUT. This fic will change you fundamentally as a person. It’s funny but also smart. A classic!

Maybe it really is the end (M, 2k): it’s short but there’s not a word out of place. Basically, belphegor taunts dean and cas while in the body of jack. It’s so good and so underrated. I think about it all the time

How a grocer watches dean pull his head out of his ass in seven days (E, 51k): destiel written from an outsider pov, a christian lady who’s easily scandalised and whose narrative voice is SO hilarious. One of the funniest fics i’ve ever read. Fake dating too!

[garthglaz]

"Popcorn Clouds Over M-57"

This stretch of rural roas in Michigan has always inspired me.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Greetings!

Any related words to "garden" you might know and would like to share? Thank you.

Hi! Here are some related words for you :)

Garden—a plot of ground where herbs, fruits, flowers, or vegetables are cultivated

Allotment - a small piece of ground in or just outside a town that a person rents for growing vegetables, fruits, or flowers

Arboretum - a large garden where many types of tree are grown, for people to look at and to be studied for scientific purposes

Backyard - a space at the back of a house, usually surrounded by a fence, and covered with grass

Campo - a grassland plain in South America with scattered perennial herbs

Demesne - landed property; estate

Estate - farm, plantation; also: vineyard

Field - an area of cleared enclosed land used for cultivation or pasture

Finca - a rural property, ranch, or farm in Spain or Spanish America

Garth - a small yard or enclosure; close

Grassland - an ecological community in which the characteristic plants are grasses

Greenhouse - a usually permanent climate-controlled structure enclosed (as by glass or multiple layers of plastic) and used usually year-round for the cultivation or protection of tender plants

Greensward - turf that is green with growing grass

Ground - an area used for a particular purpose

Homestead - a tract of land acquired from U.S. public lands by filing a record and living on and cultivating the tract

Hothouse - a greenhouse maintained at a high temperature especially for the culture of tropical plants

Lawn - ground (as around a house or in a garden or park) that is covered with grass and is kept mowed

Lea - grassland, pasture

Meadow - land that is covered or mostly covered with grass

Moor - a boggy area; especially: one that is peaty and dominated by grasses and sedges

Parcel - a tract or plot of land

Park - a piece of ground in or near a city or town kept for ornament and recreation

Pasture - land or a plot of land used for grazing; pastureland; pasturage

Plot - a small area of planted ground

Prairie - a tract of grassland

Savanna - a temperate grassland with scattered trees (such as oaks)

Terrain - a piece of land; ground

Tract - a defined area of land

Turf - grass

Veld - or Veldt; a grassland especially of southern Africa usually with scattered shrubs or trees

Yard - the grounds immediately surrounding a house that are usually covered with grass

Hope this helps! Do tag me, or send me a link to your writing if it does. I'd love to read your work.

Sources: 1 2

[book--brackets]

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman (2005)

When Fat Charlie's dad named something, it stuck. Like calling Fat Charlie "Fat Charlie." Even now, 20 years later, Charlie Nancy can't shake that name, one of the many embarrassing "gifts" his father bestowed-before he dropped dead on a karaoke stage and ruined Fat Charlie's life. Because Mr. Nancy left Fat Charlie things. Things like the tall, good-look-ing stranger who appears on Charlie's doorstep, who appears to be the brother he never knew. A brother as different from Charlie as night is from day, a brother who's going to show Charlie how to lighten up and have a lit-the fun. And all of a sudden, things start getting very interesting for Fat Charlie. Exciting, scary, and deeply funny, Anansi Boys is a kaleidoscopic journey deep into myth, a wild adventure, as Neil Gaiman shows us where gods come from, and how to survive your family.

Gemma Doyle by Libba Bray (2003-2007)

It's 1895, and after the suicide of her mother, 16-year-old Gemma Doyle is shipped off from the life she knows in India to Spence, a proper boarding school in England. Lonely, guilt-ridden, and prone to visions of the future that have an uncomfortable habit of coming true, Gemma's reception there is a chilly one. To make things worse, she's been followed by a mysterious young Indian man, a man sent to watch her. But why? What is her destiny? And what will her entanglement with Spence's most powerful girls—and their foray into the spiritual world—lead to?

Babel: An Arcane History by R. F. Kuang (2022)

Traduttore, traditore: An act of translation is always an act of betrayal.

1828. Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, is brought to London by the mysterious Professor Lovell. There, he trains for years in Latin, Ancient Greek, and Chinese, all in preparation for the day he'll enroll in Oxford University's prestigious Royal Institute of Translation — also known as Babel. Babel is the world's center of translation and, more importantly, of silver-working: the art of manifesting the meaning lost in translation through enchanted silver bars, to magical effect. Silver-working has made the British Empire unparalleled in power, and Babel's research in foreign languages ​​serves the Empire's quest to colonize everything it encounters.

Oxford, the city of dreaming spires, is a fairytale for Robin; a utopia dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. But knowledge serves power, and for Robin, a Chinese boy raised in Britain, serving Babel inevitably means betraying his motherland. As his studies progress Robin finds himself caught between Babel and the shadowy Hermes Society, an organization dedicated to sabotaging the silver-working that supports imperial expansion. When Britain pursues an unjust war with China over silver and opium, Robin must decide: Can powerful institutions be changed from within, or does revolution always require violence? What is he willing to sacrifice to bring Babel down?

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard by Rick Riordan (2015-2017)

Magnus Chase has seen his share of trouble. Ever since that terrible night two years ago when his mother told him to run, he has lived alone on the streets of Boston, surviving by his wits, staying one step ahead of the police and the truant officers.

One day, Magnus learns that someone else is trying to track him down—his uncle Randolph, a man his mother had always warned him about. When Magnus tries to outmaneuver his uncle, he falls right into his clutches. Randolph starts rambling about Norse history and Magnus's birthright: a weapon that has been lost for thousands of years.

The more Randolph talks, the more puzzle pieces fall into place. Stories about the gods of Asgard, wolves, and Doomsday bubble up from Magnus's memory. But he doesn't have time to consider it all before a fire giant attacks the city, forcing him to choose between his own safety and the lives of hundreds of innocents. . . .

Sometimes, the only way to start a new life is to die.

Abhorsen by Garth Nix (1995-2016)

Sent to a boarding school in Ancelstierre as a young child, Sabriel has had little experience with the random power of Free Magic or the Dead who refuse to stay dead in the Old Kingdom. But during her final semester, her father, the Abhorsen, goes missing, and Sabriel knows she must enter the Old Kingdom to find him. She soon finds companions in Mogget, a cat whose aloof manner barely conceals its malevolent spirit, and Touchstone, a young Charter Mage long imprisoned by magic, now free in body but still trapped by painful memories.

As the three travel deep into the Old Kingdom, threats mount on all sides. And every step brings them closer to a battle that will pit them against the true forces of life and death--and bring Sabriel face-to-face with her own destiny.

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern (2019)

Zachary Ezra Rawlins is a graduate student in Vermont when he discovers a mysterious book hidden in the stacks. As he turns the pages, entranced by tales of lovelorn prisoners, key collectors, and nameless acolytes, he reads something strange: a story from his own childhood. Bewildered by this inexplicable book and desperate to make sense of how his own life came to be recorded, Zachary uncovers a series of clues--a bee, a key, and a sword--that lead him to a masquerade party in New York, to a secret club, and through a doorway to an ancient library, hidden far below the surface of the earth. 

What Zachary finds in this curious place is more than just a buried home for books and their guardians--it is a place of lost cities and seas, lovers who pass notes under doors and across time, and of stories whispered by the dead. Zachary learns of those who have sacrificed much to protect this realm, relinquishing their sight and their tongues to preserve this archive, and also those who are intent on its destruction. 

Together with Mirabel, a fierce, pink-haired protector of the place, and Dorian, a handsome, barefoot man with shifting alliances, Zachary travels the twisting tunnels, darkened stairwells, crowded ballrooms, and sweetly-soaked shores of this magical world, discovering his purpose--in both the mysterious book and in his own life.

The Roots of Chaos by Samantha Shannon (2019-2023) The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction--but assassins are getting closer to her door. 

Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic. 

Across the dark sea, Tané has trained all her life to be a dragonrider, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel. 

Meanwhile, the divided East and West refuse to parley, and forces of chaos are rising from their sleep.

The Winternight Trilogy by Katherine Arden (2017-2019)

Winter lasts most of the year at the edge of the Russian wilderness, and in the long nights, Vasilisa and her siblings love to gather by the fire to listen to their nurse’s fairy tales. Above all, Vasya loves the story of Frost, the blue-eyed winter demon. Wise Russians fear him, for he claims unwary souls, and they honor the spirits that protect their homes from evil.

Then Vasya’s widowed father brings home a new wife from Moscow. Fiercely devout, Vasya’s stepmother forbids her family from honoring their household spirits, but Vasya fears what this may bring. And indeed, misfortune begins to stalk the village.

But Vasya’s stepmother only grows harsher, determined to remake the village to her liking and to groom her rebellious stepdaughter for marriage or a convent. As the village’s defenses weaken and evil from the forest creeps nearer, Vasilisa must call upon dangerous gifts she has long concealed—to protect her family from a threat sprung to life from her nurse’s most frightening tales.

The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo (2003)

As the only surviving mouse of the litter, Despereaux was always considered the loser, the runt, so naturally, he falls in love with a princess named Pea. The story also tells of a mouse called Roscuro, who lives in the darkness but wishes for light, and Miggery Sow, a serving girl who wants one wish. They set off on a journey that will end them up in a terrible dungeon, a wonderful castle, and of course, with each other.

Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree (2022-2024)

Worn out after decades of packing steel and raising hell, Viv the orc barbarian cashes out of the warrior’s life with one final score. A forgotten legend, a fabled artifact, and an unreasonable amount of hope lead her to the streets of Thune, where she plans to open the first coffee shop the city has ever seen.

However, her dreams of a fresh start pulling shots instead of swinging swords are hardly a sure bet. Old frenemies and Thune’s shady underbelly may just upset her plans. To finally build something that will last, Viv will need some new partners and a different kind of resolve.

[ohforficsake]

Down, Boy

A Margay Universe Drabble

series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: The boys end up at a dive bar on Frankie's birthday. Snipers are good at pool. Frankie's not gonna be able to wait until they make it home. Can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC Audrey 'Moose' Goddard

Word Count: ~ 1.6K words

Rating: Explicit 18+ / dirty talk, momentary dry humping, jerking off in a dive bar bathroom, mention of oral sex (f receiving), bit of a come fetish (it's these two, they're just like this) / language / drunk!Frankie is the sweetest, filthiest menace with a massive competency kink / Minors DNI

A/N: A little drabble that came up a few months ago but didn't quite fit with the main Margay storyline. Just something fun to tie you over after putting you all through it with Chapter 9.

Divider by @cafekitsune!

Frankie is—

—a bit drunk tonight.

But it’s his birthday.

And he’s always been a happy drunk. 

There’s no falling on the floor. No getting up in other patrons’ faces. Just cheeks ruddy and round from freely-given mirth. 

He’s harmless as a puppy and just as excitable. 

Whooping with cheers whenever anyone sinks a pool ball into a pocket, whether they’re on his team or not.

_____

He had made the trip out to northern California for the occasion, wanting only to spend his day with his daughter.  

But the boys catch wind of his plan and throw in for an Airbnb on the coast for the occasion.

And in the process of planning, Santi and Benny cook up a four-beer deep idea over an empty pizza box to arrange an extra gift.

Aud, what are your thoughts on Fort Bragg? Santi fires off on a text thread between the three of them.

I’m glad that they’re changing that name, guy was a cunt.

Sorry no, California. Benny clarifies. But also, agreed.

Is that not named after the same guy?

Santi sends the house’s address at the same time Benny sends, it is yeah.

Catfish wants to spend his birthday out there with his kid and we couldn’t let him celebrate alone. Pope attempts to steer.

Wondering if you might want to tag along? Last week of June. 

Send me a venmo request for my part of the booking.

_____

Something warm blooms in Audrey’s chest at the sight of Frankie with his friends, quietly strategizing over forest green pool table felt.

He throws his arm around Benny’s neck and thumps Santiago on the back when they win this round, uncaring that he and Will have lost the last three.

“Can you please play this one, this score is embarrassing,” Will leans over on his bar stool with arms crossed against his chest, voice raised just enough so Audrey can hear him over Garth Brooks being played at a decibel below ungodly volume.

“Already told you, if I play, it’s over in one turn,” she takes a swig of beer, “that’s no fun for anyone.”

“Losing isn’t fun either though.”

She studies Will in the haze of neon-red tinged smoke. Audrey’s only known him for three hours, but she likes him already. Enough to grant him this favor.

“Fine.” 

She slips off her bar stool and shimmies her jeans higher up on her hips before shrugging the leather jacket off of her shoulders.

“You playin’, Moose?” Santiago calls with a grin.

“One round,” she holds up a finger, “save these boys some shame,” she finishes as Will hands her a cue. The minute she lifts it off the ground she murmurs “not that one,” and Will swaps her out. 

“There’s no way she’s that good,” Benny quips to Pope as he racks up the balls.

“I—do not have as much confidence as you on that,” Santiago carefully lifts the triangle and slots it back under the table. “You should probably know better, Benjamin.”

“You boys are fucked,” Frankie loops his arms around both of their shoulders as Audrey chalks her cue.

She places the cue ball towards one rail behind the second set of diamonds and glances behind her, gauging the space before leaning down to eye level, bouncing and spinning the cue in her hand to get a feel for its balance before she takes her first shot.

Audrey sinks two balls on the break. 

She quickly assesses the table when they come to a stop. “Stripes, do I need to call the pocket?”

“No need to be a show-off,” Pope quips. 

“Fair enough,” she slips around the far side of the table and sinks the 9-ball in a corner. It lines the cue ball up perfectly and she drops 14 in a center pocket. 

One lap around the table and a glance at the boys to be sure she has clearance before Audrey knocks the cue ball just off its center point, gliding it across felt where it transfers its spin to 15, sending it swirling down the rail into a corner pocket. She slips around to the opposite side of the table, banking the cue ball off the opposite rail and into 13, which slips neatly into the center pocket nearest her. 

“What went in on the break?” Benny calls.

“11 and 2,” Will answers where he’s calmly perched on a barstool against the wall.

She could miss now and he’d still be impressed.

She won’t.

The cue ball is dead center on the table and 10 is sitting a foot short of a corner. Audrey circles the table, chalking her cue as she analyzes angles. The best shot is from the end nearest the three boys but she’ll have to reach for it.

She stands in front of them and murmurs “sorry, boys,” before she hikes one knee up on the side rail and leans down, chest nearly grazing the table. 

Frankie covers Benny and Santi’s eyes from where his arms are still braced on their shoulders. 

His eyes, however, are locked on her ass.

They hear 10 drop in before brushing Frankie’s hands away.

Audrey bounces the cue ball off the edge of 12, popping it into the nearest pocket.

“Oh, that’s done, she’s got it,” Benny murmurs when the white ball comes to a stop directly in line with the corner pocket nearest Will, the 8 ball sitting perfectly in the middle of the shot.

Audrey sinks it and Frankie whoops, clapping both men on the back before rushing around the table to grab Audrey in a bear hug that lifts her up off her feet.

“FUCK yeah, baby!!!” He screams, taking her face in his hands and mashing his mouth against hers.

“Okay, down boy,” she quips with a smile.

“Well played, Moose,” Will holds out his hand for a shake.

“Alright, the rest is on y’all,” she hands the cue off to Will. “I gotta hit the restroom and then I’ll pick up another round.” She makes her way around the table, Benny and Santi congratulate her with claps on the back before she’s off down the hall.

“Hell of a woman you got there, Catfish,” Will chalks his cue.

Frankie answers with the quirk of a brow and a smirk that drips with filth.

One of the patrons recognizes Benny from fight night and it causes a stir. Turns out Will knows him from high school and everyone’s fascinated with what a small world it really is, attention distracted enough to allow Frankie to slip away.

_____

Audrey wrenches the door to the bathroom open and collides with Frankie’s chest.

“Jesus, Francisco.”

He backs her up with his body, kicking the bathroom door closed and latching it as his mouth crashes against hers, twisting his cap around backwards.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” He smashes her against the wall with his broad form, craning low to kiss at what skin he can get to under her turtleneck before giving up and sucking on her earlobe. 

“Yeah, well, I guess” she pants as Frankie drops to his knees and grabs at her hips, grinding the bulge in his jeans against her shin as he mouths at her stomach through the fabric of her shirt, “don’t play pool with a sniper.” 

Frankie is fully hard as he ruts against her, pulling clumsily at the button and zipper of her jeans. He inhales against her mound and moans before quickly getting to his feet. 

Harmless as a puppy and just as excitable.

He’ll sniff crotches and hump legs too, apparently.

Audrey grabs his face between her hands in an effort to center him, dipping her tongue into his mouth before Frankie pulls back.

“Fuuuck baby,” he reaches down to squeeze his cock through his jeans, “I’m not gonna make it, baby, I can’t–”

“Frankie–”

“Shhh, gatita, please,” he clamps a hand over her mouth as his forehead thumps hard against hers, “fuck,” he huffs, “I’m gonna. Pull those pretty panties down for me, beautiful. Just a little bit.”

Audrey is positively dying to see where this goes. 

She slips her jeans and thong down her thighs, eyes locked on Frankie’s locked on black lace.

“Right there. That’s my pretty girl. Yeahh,” he shifts around to free himself from his jeans and she moans into his palm where he slides the hot, hard length of him against her center.

Frankie indulges for a moment, slipping his cock against the smooth wet of her lips.

“Shit,” he hisses before gripping himself in his fist, brown eyes searching green for permission.

And having it, he starts to pump his cock.

It takes him less than a minute before thick ropes of semen spurt into the gusset of her panties as he groans against the back of his hand where it’s still clamped over her mouth.

“Gatita?” He lets go on a ragged gasp once his hips have stilled and he’s worked himself through.

She puffs an acknowledging breath against his palm. 

“I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear,” he lets his hand drop but keeps his forehead pressed against hers. 

Frankie’s fingers move down to hook in the waistband of her lace thong before he slips it, warm and sticky and reeking of his spend back up into place.

“Keep that for me?” He slips his tongue in her mouth, fastening the button on her jeans and dragging the zipper closed. “I’m gonna come back for it.”

He presses a final, wet kiss to her lips, warm palm resting briefly on her cheek before he slips out of the door.

He leaves her frayed with want. Panting through burning lips as her head thumps back against the wall.

Sometimes she wonders if Frankie Morales is the filthiest motherfucker alive.

Two hours later when he cleans her cunt with his tongue—cap twisted round backwards on his head, wet panties stuffed into the pocket of his jeans—she realizes he probably is.

He probably is.

And he's hers.

Tagging a few lovely folks who are/might be interested: @tinytinymenace @theshensei @jeewrites @oliveksmoked @for-a-longlongtime

@toomanytookas @missladym1981 @harriedandharassed @76bookworm76 @spookyxsam

@soft-persephone @julesonrecord @legendary-pink-dot