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harryleatherfit · 2 years ago

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Upper East Side || A.U || Frankie Morales

Chapter 10: Hands

Chapter Playlist

Family Tree- Ethel Cain

Novacane- Frank Ocean

Butterscotch Goddamn- Fischerspooner

words: 5481

warnings: alcohol consumption, thigh riding, being held back?? orgasm, mentions of blood (fake tho) mentions of abusive parents, soft!dom frankie

pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader || Slowburn x Teacher Student x Soulmates

authors note: kinda a filler, but smut no worries. leading up to my favorite chapters i promise. had a few requests for one shots so working on those too!

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

Frankie +POV

It was a night at the bar for him and the boys. One of their last free nights before it was time for the show. They were all exhausted from teaching during the day, to working on the set at night. He stayed with Benny and you for your lesson, to fortunately have a night of his life that he’ll never forget, but he was exhausted. The set for the Broadway theater had to be perfect. So many people were coming, and the school was going to be the talk of many social media outlets, newspaper columns, and this would bring in so much money for the spring musical.

Ultimately, he wanted this to all be over and to spend time with you. He wanted to put everything aside and swish you away for a vacation, or to go away and be around people that wouldn’t know you both. This feeling was eating him alive, he needed to be alone tonight with you, but you had previously told him you were sleeping early tonight to save your energy for the weekend, and the boys wanted to pull him away for a few drinks.

“Hello, Earth to Fish.” Pope waved his hand. “What’s up with you man?”

“Nothing, I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.” He tells the bartender. It was 10ish, the night life at this specific bar was more older. Jazz was playing, attracting an older crowd. The guys ordered their drinks and food, making small talk about the show.

“Nah I know what this is about, it’s about that girl isn’t it?” Ironhead states. His girl.

He caught Frankie in a daze, “What?” He was already daydreaming about you. Longing for your soft heartfelt touch.

“You know who I’m fucking talking about, don’t play dumb with us man.”

He chuckles, “What can I say, this is different.” He sips his drink.

“You’re happier,” Refly adds.

“I haven’t had these many heart palpitations in a long time. She’s gonna kill me.” Frankie scratches his head, he didn't want to give too much away, but they all already knew about you. They had to pluck it out of him when he was drunk on poker night.

“About damn time dude.” Pope cheers, “Get this man more drinks he’s fuckinnnn pussy whipped! Had to find out the hard way you brought in Timothee for her, and that’s he’s comin tomorrow too? I feel betrayed.” He gasps.

“Calm down, calm down. It’s complicated, we can’t be screamin it to the world.” He hushes Pope down.

“How? You posted her, it's everywhere man.” Ironhead pips.

He’s thought about this a million times, talked it over with you a billion, “I just feel bad, being her teacher. I don’t want her to ever think I have some ulterior motive with her, or her to think I’m usin her. I mean we’ve talked about it before, and we know the risks of doing this. But I won’t lie and say that I’m not scared. She’s scared. If we’re open to the public this could ruin the both of us, and we’ll be looked at differently.” He gulps the last of the drink, “I mean when I told you guys, you all didn’t give me shit which I was surprised you didn’t clown me at first but-.”

“Fish, we saw how you reacted when we went to UNCSA to see her perform. Remember that night, after he hugged her and she didn’t even pay any attention to him? He practically cried like a little baby.” Redfly deadpanned, “I mean we could all see her talent from that stage. You were just the old grump that wanted her to jump your bones.” Abruptly bursting into laughter Ironhead and Pope clapped Redfly on the back.

“Very fucking funny man.” Frankie grumbles. He rips his hand around his glass cup, thinking about what you were doing right now, he hasn’t seen you since your voice lesson.

The first time he saw you was at your last performance of Cabaret. He couldn’t believe your performance, the way you fit Sally so well. Blowing the whole crowd away, the makeup on your face shimmered in the magnetic lighting, the costume flowing with the curve of your legs. Every miniscule facial expression is meticulously made up in your head. He could feel your character soaking in everyone's life, walking out of the show changed. A star. The next night, the whole team was tasked to go to your music recital, and your voice made people cry. Your emotion in singing was mood altering. This night reminded him of his childhood, how badly he wanted to let his creative brain flow but was inevitably allowed to. He had an older brother that would get under his skin, and parents that would eventually throw him out. Events in his life he wouldnt change, but still broke his soul nonetheless. He understood exactly what it was like to be a foreigner to your blood family, and seeing you shake from your mom took him back to when he was a little boy. He craved a love that would devour his body eternally at such a young age, he never thought he would find it. Because of this, he had to get to know you somehow. Once he knew everyone finalized for you and Laylah to come, he vowed to himself that he had to learn to be close to you, and find a way to protect you from evil New York, no matter what happened between you two.

Ultimately, being with you has changed him, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to scare you, but he wants more with you, he wants more for you.

“It happens, and that’s okay. We’ll help you figure this out. Benny, have you got any wise words of yours?” Redfly asks.

Frankie knew this wasn’t an easy topic for him, you being his star student. Of course you were the star student, they all fucking knew that. Emails from every agency asking about you, asking when you’d be done with college and ready to have your acting reel done. Ready to come to Hollywood and work with the real dogs. But, Benny was being the quietest of them all, he was happy for Frankie and you, not letting you know he knows, but this was a serious matter. Benny would be the one to help you for the rest of the year to make sure you would get a good part in the musical, as well getting booked after college.

It was his job to make sure the world sees your talent, as well as hears how well you sound. From a teacher's perspective he didn’t fully agree with it all, of course it would be a scandal, a teacher with a student. But as a long time friend with Frankie, he understood. He knew his life, knew what he has gone through and observes that this is the happiest Frankie has ever been.

“Well you flustered her, the entire lesson. She was trying really fucking hard to not be unfocused, but you do something to her that distracts her.”

Frankie frowned, he didn’t want to distract you, he didn’t want to hurt you in any way. He didn't want to be in the way of anything for you.

“I mean they’re practically fucking teenagers, if you all were there you would’ve felt the energy, they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other.” He laughs, how Benny had no idea what had happened after her voice lesson, and leading up to it, “I’m happy for you Fish, and I support you guys every step of the way, I will always be here to help with Media, or anything that comes out. I will use my power in this fucked world. We all will, right?” Benny gets nods from the guys, “See we’re all here to help you, just be careful with her. Don’t fucking break her. You saw how fragile she is. She’s strong but one wrong kick coming from the wrong person.” Referencing your mom and Nina, “Then she can bring the world down with her. She’s emotional, but she’ll turn that emotion into her craft. We literally saw it in her audition, so this can’t be some one night stand shit.” One night stand enrages Frankie. You were definitely not some one night stand.

“She isn’t some one night stand Benny. Can’t fuckin believe you’d think that.”

“Hey, don’t fuckin talk to me like that. Or you aren’t allowed in her lessons anymore.” He snarls back at Frankie, “All I’m saying, we’ve seen you spiral after being with someone. Okay? This, whatever this is with her, is fucking precious and if you break it, if you fuck it up, and this ruins her career, you have to live with that.”

The air was stagnant with the boys, heavy and thick. Words said in the air to make Frankie overthink, was he in the way of your life? Was he gonna ruin you?

“I think I’m in love with her.” But, he could never truly say this to you, “I am gonna ask her to be my girl after the first show. I think it’s time, I want to take things slow with her.”

“Well congrats Fish, first step to finally settlin down.” Pope assures, ordering another round of drinks.

--------

Last rehearsal before opening night, the longest night of them all. Earlier in the week, it was the first dress rehearsal and there was magic in the air. Getting to work with the full set and props on Broadway, feeling the lights on your skin. Makeup sponged into your pores. Costumes sewed to your body, it was all so surreal.

The sleep you had gotten the night before was rejuvenating enough for your body, at least enough for your head to properly perceive the next few days. You were excited and couldn’t wait to become someone else for a while, you had the opportunity to really wow an audience again.

Techies were called at 5PM, thirty minutes after the last class had ended for the day, and actors were called at 6, but you decided to take today as a rest day, per Ms. Royalce’s order. You hadn’t gotten to see Frankie all day, you hadn’t seen him since your voice lesson, but you decided to go in with Laylah for her call time so you could at least see him even though he was going to be outrageously busy.

After having your ID checked by the outside ushers of the theater, you were met with the authentic air. The air that you could live, breathe, eat and sleep for eternity. Tonight was your last night of freedom, tomorrow can’t be safe.

As you always have seen, Frankie was on a ladder fixing something on the stage, all the other professors/ directors fiddling with papers, making phone calls, and having their assistants book food for the night. Nina is nowhere to be found. A sigh of relief fell from your heart.

You came with Laylah early, always eager to see what each rehearsal has in store.

“Over here! The perfect people, get over here!” Ms Roylance shouts from the apron of the stage.

You and Laylah shake your heads, wondering where that could have come from, she was always a stressed woman but you make way.

Frankie looks down from the light he was fixing and as he immediately lays eyes on you, you see the giddy boy smile on his face as he rushes down the steps. The swell in your heart.

“My perfect star girl, are you excited?”

You chew your cheek, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t, I mean look at this.” You turn to all the empty seats that will be filled the very next night.

“I am so grateful you guys are here early. Laylah can you get her into her makeup right now, once you’re done coffee would have arrived by then so first dips for you both.”

“Hey I made the call to that company,” Mr. Miller objects, “I should get first dibs over them.” He pouts.

“You’ll drink about anything with caffeine in it man.” Frankie shakes his shoulders.

Their banter makes you happy, all of them being able to work together makes the performing arts world ten times better.

“Ok head off, go get all beautified.” Ms Roylace shoos you both away, “And hey Morales? Go with them to update them for the night.”

His face drops and you laugh under your breath, turning away with Laylah going to the dressing rooms where the makeup would be.

You make your way into the room, admiring all the signatures over the walls, the wigs on the shelves and beautiful products you would never have the money to buy. You sit in the chair and clean your face with a soothing toner, clawing your hair pack for Laylah.

Frankie walks in and you look at him through the mirror, smiling so hard you knew the crinkle from eyes would be permanent all night.

“Evenin ladies, I wanted to let you know that I called some people to watch the show tonight, we’ll have a little audience. Hope that doesn’t frighten you.”

“If I may ask,” Laylah inquires as she starts rubbing your face with moisturizer, “Who will be in this audience.”

“I wanted Timothee to come back with some of his co-stars from the French Dispatch to come.”

You immediately choke on your saliva, remembering why you met Timothee in the first place. You open your eyes to see his smirk.

“Any tips for tonight to impress our impending crowd, Mr Morales?” You tilt your head in his direction.

“Be yourself, you’ll dazzle them all. Don’t worry darlin.” He tangles his arms together, “Hey Laylah, put that gold glitter all over her collar bones, I think we should do that tonight. The blood with the glitter will react with her skin well.”

“I like your thinking,” Laylah rummages through the boxes, “I found it!” They cheer.

“Now grab a bowl, dump a spoon of glitter with liquid highlighter, and after set with hairspray on her chest. That’ll make it stay all night.”

As Laylah flicks the glitter over your collar bones, covering up most of your tattoos and spraying Lady Macbeth over your body, Frankie gazing over you. The glitter makes you a trophy. He was so soft, explaining everything to them.

You noticed how hard he was with his students, he had this front to him that was horrible to break. But once you got to work with him, got to know him and understand his tough love thought process, he was like that to make you work harder. You appreciate him so much. You were surprised how he never had children of his own, he knew parental parameters so well. His delicacy turned you on, in reality he was really touchable to everyone.

“All done.” They spink you towards Frankie, “It’s beautiful on you.”

He caught his breath, “Gorgeous.” And his eyes never leave you.

“I’m gonna continue her makeup if you don’t mind.” They smile at him and you smack yourself in the head, that was definitely awkward for Laylah. He gets up and leaves with no explanation.

They pause, “So you gonna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“No comment.” You smirk.

“After tonight, you-me, The Bear, and you’re fucking tellin me what’s going on.” They shake their head

“Deal.”

----------

You were given your cue to walk on stage, it was your final dress rehearsal, you were in Lady Macbeth's gown and makeup, your hair was done and you were in more character than ever.

As soon as you were on the stage alone, you could feel the presence of these important people. You could see Timothee’s curly hair in your eyesight. When you walked up to the apron of the stage to deliver your first monologue you could feel the personality of Saoirse Ronan. You could feel the life of Wes Anderson in front of you, you can feel the scarcity of Adrien Brody. This was your only opportunity to impress- you can not fuck it up.

You move through your dialogue, making sure to slow down. As an actor, you have to anticipate, and live through the character vicariously.

Just as you had done during your audition, just like rehearsals, you dig through your mind of every piece of advice you had been given to complete this character. Before the show was set to start, you listened to rain. You listened to women screaming for their lives, shaking from the decibels resonating through your head.

You and Mattias moved through the stage carefully, and when it was time for your death monologue, you felt the strength to scream, you felt your throat viling up to convulse. You thought of your mom’s phone call. You thought of your father, the tone of voice he had with your mother. You felt the syrupy blood that was thrown on you before hand seeping through your clothes, all over your face. Dripping from your fingertips, your character wanted vengeance, she wanted a life. You wanted a life. Your scream filled the entire theater. You wanted it to hurt your throat, you liked the threading dull pain it felt in your throat. This wasn’t acting anymore, this was you purely on the stage. You weren’t mad that you didn’t save your throat, Mr. Miller can take it up with you for another day.

Finishing the end, you sleep walk off stage, ending your final collapse. Gasping, flinching for air. You could contort your body so easily in a character role, it almost freaked you out. Never realizing how inflicting pain on yourself for something, or at least acting like it, was memorable in your heart.

You get pulled off stage by a crew member, walking off to your dressing room to clean yourself up. Applauded on the way from the tech crew, you felt relieved that it was finally over. Your first real performance would be the next day.

You turned the corner and the, already smirking in the mirror. Frankie sitting in your chair.

“That was,” He rubs his chin, “That was different.” Looking at his heavy eyes, you both were tired.

You shrug, “It was.” The fake blood was seeping off your body, “I think I hurt my voice.”

“It felt too real, c’mere, come sit on my lap.” He leans back in the chair, “And lock the door.”

“Frankie, they’ll see the blood on you and what if they need you in the booth?” You shudder.

“They’ll fuckin survive, I wanna be with my girl and I’m wearing black clothes.”

He reaches his arms out, pulling you in close. The dress you were wearing was beyond thick at the bottom.“You never cease to amaze me, they all couldn’t stop talking about you.”

You sit on his thighs, he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ears, heart beating faster than ever, “How do you know?” You ask, head falling underneath his chin.

“I sat with them for your scenes, I left the crew in the booth. They should have it down by now anyway. That Anderson man was shocked how loud you can scream.”

“You’re saying that to make me feel better.” You laugh.

“No beautiful, they all couldn't take their eyes off you. You upstage Mattias a lot in your scenes and they couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you are.” He hums.

“Liar,” You shut your eyes, inhaling his usual intoxicating scent. The room was small enough that being there for minutes you could only smell him. He starts to kiss your neck, getting the blood all over his face.

“Frankie, we need to go before we get caught,” You start to shove him off, “ or before bows.”He pulls you back down immediately, “We have time, I promise.”

He wraps his arms around you, lacing his hands on the bodice of your dress.

“You look perfect in this, the fabric and beading of it is so intricate.” He traces the middle seam of the bodice, moving up all the way to your chest, loosening the ties to the corset top.

“Frankie, what do you think you’re doing? It took three people to get me into this.”

“Let me make you feel good, I know you’re tired sweet girl, always workin so hard.” You straighten up against him, he always knew how to sugar coat your brain.

“Bring the dress over your head, let me see you.” You do as he says, lifting off his lap, moving the tulle and silk layers away from your legs up to your head. He grabs it over your head throwin it on the floor, leaving you in your basics that practically looked like lingerie. You had on sheer black tights that showed your tattoos, and your basics couldn't leave much to the imagination. You were glad you hadn’t worn rags underneath this, you were lucky that no fake blood got on any of it either.

“Wearin this for me?” He mutters, “Who knew that basics underneath a costume could be so promiscuous, huh?” He kisses your arm, trailing back up to your neck, almost whimpering when he leaves your skin to breathe.

“I have much more to wear for you, Frankie.” You breathe.

His mind goes blank, getting to see you in such delicate clothing that you liked was a world phenomena. “Well, I have a surprise for you after the show tomorrow.” He coos, “Been waiting to show you for a while.”

“You can’t tell me now?” You close your eyes, leaning back behind his head. His hands lingering near your lower stomach. What does a suprise mean to him?

“That would ruin all the fun, sweetheart.” He purrs. He was being so soft with you, taking care of you after such a long week of working. You squirm against him, of course heat was growing beneath you. You could feel the padded fabric enclosing your pussy go damp. If you lifted yourself off of his leg, there would be a pool beneath you. Frankie has this power over you that couldn’t be controlled. You noticed today he was wearing tighter jeans than usual, his bulge being so prominent that nothing could hide it.

“Keep movin darlin, I can feel that soaked pussy pulsating on my leg.”

“You want me to- you want me to keep rubbing-?” You mumble.

“Don’t be embarrassed, pretty girl, use my leg. Move those hips back and forth on my thigh and get yourself off.”

Your brain short circuits and before you can do anything, his fingers pull your nipples, delicately circling them. He watches you tick, back almost giving out.

You start to move up and down, bracing your hands on his knee for stability. You couldn’t get enough friction, the padding of your underwear keeping you away from him. You drag a hand to your clothed cunt, pulling aside your underwear, exposing yourself on his thick muscle. Feeling his body hug you, you clamp down on him. Your clit flutters against the perfect spot on his jeans.

“Dirty girl, pussy out in the open. That’s my girl. Keep rubbin, keep fuckin soakin my leg.”

The bulge of his quad muscle working against your core had you shrieking. He wraps a hand around your mouth.

“You can’t be loud honey, and that voice needs to rest. Think you can be quiet for me?”

“Nh- Frankie- feel’s good. Your leg is so- so thick.” Your gasps are muffled by his hand, your eyes crossing from the pleasure. The weight of his hand on your face makes you crack.

“That’s right pretty girl, rub on my leg like it’s my cock. So beautiful when you’re gettin yourself off on me. I can watch this all my life baby.” He brushes his face into your hair. Sweat was building all over your body, you were beyond flushed, and you were getting goosebumps on how this orgasm felt too different.

It felt slower, but the anticipation of it all was driving you fucking crazy. His hand covering your mouth, and his arm holding you down felt like gold. Your orgasm hitting you so painfully that if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve screamed your head off, convulsing from the rippling of your muscles intermixing with his.

You could breathe perfectly through your nose, chest heaving but never forgetting how good this felt for you. You fall back into him, laying limp.

“Baby, was that too much? You’re silent-was I holding you down too tight, can you breathe-” He rushes.

“Can I breathe? Frankie that was amazing. Your so fucking strong, I needed you to hold me back, “ You weave your hands through his hair, “So fucking strong, fuck.”

You thought of him, fucking you. You riding him and him pulling you down onto you. You craved that moment. You were beyond blissed out.

“Just tie me down and fuck me already Frankie.” You relish.

“You’d like that, huh?”

You nod seductively, you’re fucking ready to do anything with him.

“Jesus girl, that mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.” He laughs.

"Let it, wanna do everything with you.” You crash your lips with his, you mean every word. Your heart swells when you're around him now.

You get up from his lap, shakily looking for the clothes you came to the theater with. You look into the mirror, the blood smeared all over your neck. Frankie laughs that he has it all over his face from kissing you.

You check your phone, it was 20 minutes after your death scene, bows.

“Frankie, bows are any minute!” You panic

He finds the closest wipes, rubbing the blood off. The only noticeable stain on him now was on his jeans. Nobody could possibly know, right?

You open your door slowly, checking to see if the coast is clear for you both to walk out. You pull his arm with you, quickly rushing out of the dressing area.

You guys get back to the stage, holding hands with him in the dark, leading you off. You hurry to get to your spot in the line, taking bow with your castmates, channeling the biggest smile in your face. Squeezing Mattias’s hand, the perfect duo on stage.

A row of accomplished faces in front of you steer into roars, all your worries run away. Your standing ovation from them was minutes.

The lights go back to normal and everyone's hugging each other. After so long working on this show, everything is paying off.

Timothee runs up the stairs to the stage giddishly, weaving through the cast, to come up and hug you. You gasp, you can’t believe that he remembers who you are.

“I mean I saw you in that monologue, but fuck man,” He prods, “You’re amazing. Frankie was right.”

You smile stupidly, uncanny that he knows you because of Frankie. “None of you had to come, I mean this is too much.” Timothee hugs Mattias and you two feel like children at Disney World.

“Man they wanted to, I said I was going to see a friend of mines show,” He whispers under hsi breath, “That his girl is gonna be on broadway you asshole- on fucking broadway,” He yells, “And they all wanted to tag along after a long day of filming and dealing with busy people.”

You can see all of them talking to Frankie in the corner, bracing yourself as they move closer to you in a group, slightly hiding behind Mattias.

“And this is your Macbeth and Lady Macbeth.” Frankie introduces you.

You all shake hands and exchange names, butterflies killing your stomach.

“I just wanted to say, thank you all for coming to see the show, this is more than I could have ever dreamt of.” You blurt.

Wes not saying much, smiling and partially shy.

“Please, this was a delight to see. Up and coming talent is the most important.” Saoirse hugs you, her Irish accent so thick.

Adrien pats Frankie on the shoulder, ��We knew this man made a perfect set, but you actors are gonna put us out of jobs.” He says, such a hot man. You couldn’t breath with all this talent and beautiful people around you.

“Where you both from?” Adrien asks.

“I'm from the Bronx and she’s from North Carolina.” Mattias points at you.

“Ah, the Carolinas. Like it there?” He asks.

“It was alright, treated me well. Not much to do but it’s pretty.” It was such a pretty state.

“We had to go film there for a scene in a museum, it was a scene for Timothee. Have you been to the art museum?” Wes pipes up, surprised that he was even talking to you.

“Yes I have!” You nod, “I think that’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”

“Wait til you go to Europe, your mind will explode.” Timothee adds.

You think about it, “If I may ask, was there anything that you all saw that I, or we both could work on?”

“No, don’t change anything. This is beautiful. Beautifully casted. You both work so well together, and the dialogue is magnificent. And you, I mean that scream blew all our eardrums out.” Saoirse says.

TImothee and Adrien agree.

“I would, “ Wes moves closer to you both, “Shake your legs, and breathe. Look at me.” You and Mattias do as the strange man says, “ How do you feel, exactly every word in your head.”

“Scared and nervous to be around people like you, my hearts gonna burst and my words could slur and strew together.” Mattias spits.

Frankie coughs.

“And you?” Wes turns.

You nod fast, motioning to everything Mattias said.

“That’s the thing. It doesn’t matter if there's people like us in the crowd. We are ordinary people in the crowd. We are nobodies. You two are the stars of the show, so feel like it.” His funky smile shows.

The stress falls off your shoulder in an instant, feeling Mattias’s relief.

“Everythings gonna be okay, you two. Nothing to worry about.” Frankie pulls you and Mattias in for a hug. Hand falling to your lower back.

------

You made it back to your suite, Hannah and Rose already asleep, but Laylah not failing to go through her word with a self care night.

She bombards you when you walk through the door, “What's going on with you and Mr. Morales? Why was he being so awkward? You have to tell me please please please…”

“Get off me.” You giggle, “They can't hear this.”

They settle on their bed, handing you a sheet mask and a cup of lemon tea.

“You pinky swear, I mean Laylah this can end both of us, if I tell you. You can’t tell anyone. No one, not even the boy you were with.”

“I promise with my life, I will never tell anyone.” Crossing their fingers with yours.

“I don’t know just that night at the club, he was there with all the other teachers, and he saw me. I went to the bathroom and things just started to happen..”

“No need for the details,” They shake you, “ But what the actual fuck! So the eyes at the beginning of the year were real!”

“They were real… that picture he posted, the one you guys were talking about in the group chat was me.”

“No fucking way, what the fuck.” She whispers

“Trust me I know, I didn’t know what to say, and he just did it and I had to act dumb in the group chat.”

“You fucking bitch, the whole time it was you and you knew!”

“I know I’m a criminal, I can’t help it,” Sipping on your tea, “But it’s all so new you know. We’ve both been so busy with everything and trying to stay away from the public together and yeah, all so new.”

“Andd…”

“And what?”

“Are you guys dating? Fucking?”

“No, and not yet. I mean we're monogamous, we're only seeing each other right now but it's all so risky and we graduate in less than a year, wherever I go he can’t follow me. I’m happy with where we’re both at right now. And imagine people find out Laylah, I would never be casted again and he’d be fired. It would look like I’m fucking my way to the top when I’m not.” You huff, the whole situation works you up.

“You’re smart, do not let this get in the way of loving him. The way he was staring at you today. They way he said he’d check on you in the booth a couple weeks ago, he’s in it deep.”

“God I’d hope so.” You fucking hope so.

——-

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csmingy · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! My name is Yuna. My art blog is @yulogica . I'm a mod for the Sweeticals species.

I am certainly biased since I am a mod and on friendly terms with liostylo, the other mod mentioned. To be frank, I can see where the annoyance is coming from for an outside perspective. But I would still like to clarify some things.

The events are only occurring because liostylo helped start a proper masterlist for the species. Beyond the separate incentivized use-your-existing-unused-tickets event, this brought to attention the tickets of months-long inactive mods. It was decided that these mod tickets be disposed of through flash events and free raffles. The value of these mod tickets can rise up to 50USD depending on if its used as the highest rarity.

Regarding event specifics:

•It should be noted that mods' characters are considered NPCs. I do think it's reasonable for NPCs to be used for an event. And considering there are over 900 myos, I think it's likely for characters fitting the theme to be chosen from the mods (who have given permission for characters to be used), individuals that liostylo knows are fine with it, or from members who are active enough for their characters' stories to be more known.

•Liostylo has admitted (in the vent chat that you need to react to get a role to access) to a bias regarding picking winners: about half the consideration is for the art, other half is for how many characters the individual already has.

I think it's reasonable for liostylo to be upset. They have been a net positive for the species and community. Beyond the event and ability to win mod tickets, they became a mod by working on coding a website and masterlist for the species free of charge. They have also made adopts for the species with species currency, which as a fellow mod, I would say is practically an act of love because with the monthly mod income of species currency, earning any more of it is pretty useless for anything except keeping the community engaged.

Liostylo did forget to state that the theme for the 2nd week is vampiric characters (by story or intention when designing). Liostylo also forgot a line in the other event poster. They may miss a few things. Even the species owner and myself do sometimes.

Liostylo was upset and shared the ventblog message in the server. I think it's normal to try and know who sent it. It wasn't "toddler rampage" but justified distress. Maybe it's not the best customer service reaction, but they would honestly appreciate a message about feedback and what could be improved upon. I think all the mods would.

I don't think liostylo deserves the vitriol they're getting. Call me a bootlicker for it, if you like. But liostylo's my friend. If the event (which the species owner approved of) has issues to work out, it would have been more productive to message them or the species owner.

I do apologize for adding to making this blog a sort of hub for the drama of the species if you're tiring of that, but it seems csmingy has become where the Sweetical vents are going. It may be better we keep speaking here though, since such a blog run by mods would be a conflict of interest and your third-party presence adds to the appeal. Not that I mind people using vents- I quite like reading vent blogs to try and stay up-to-date in things in other species.

we appreciate the inside input! 🍋

post

#sweeticals #csvent #closed species #cs #vent #csmingy

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cryptid-killjoy · 4 years ago

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The Other Side - A Review

The Other Side. Hell. The Upside Down. Pandemonium. Limbo. The Veil. Purgatory. The Void. The Abyss. The Dead Zone. Dante’s Inferno. Heaven.

Death.

Delta had decided all the signs, names, and labels were all bullshit. In the end no matter which locale whether in terrain or state of mind death was all the same place to her. It was the place the dead were alive. It was her new life. But, she didn’t see it as her after life. She saw it as her life, period. This was simply her life now. The earth was like some foreign land she didn’t care to visit like Idaho or Iowa. She didn’t see the attraction.

Her life with Frank.

Sure, sometimes the earth would find ways of seeping in and reminding them it’s a small world after all even when they weren’t in that one. She did enjoy the strange and unusual and one of her favorite moments was seeing Zero appear like an actual dog. He finally approached her unlike the first time. He brought her some dead flowers. She’d know it was him by the tag again. But, the fact he was in that shape had to do with where they were on the other side. It was a place where the dead could be their soul’s truth, their inner most desire. It wasn’t heaven. It was more like the Mirror of Erised. It was a place a soul could get stagnant and stuck in their dreams. She’d tell Frank a little more about Zero and how Heresy was a foster parent. She still didn’t know him well enough to know she was a foster parent after his Jack Skellington adoption didn’t work out. But, she’d let Frank know he was an okay kid in her book. She assumed he was dead. But, as a dog she couldn’t ask him what happened. She didn’t know him well enough to know his abilities or situation.

Delta’s appearance would not change in that space. Just as Dumbledore said about the Mirror of Erised a truly happy man would only see himself. She didn’t know what that space on the other side had done to Zero, but she was exactly the same. It was a testament to how content she really was with Frank in that new life of theirs. She wouldn’t change one thing.

There were others she didn’t know personally, but saw watching them in the distance. If it wasn’t for music covers and fame she wouldn’t have had a clue. But, she knew it was Lock Skellington. He wouldn’t approach, but he’d be a figure that sometimes was in a crowd or off in the distance if she and Frank ventured out of their own little splice of the underworld. Delta never found reason to approach either, but she wouldn’t try to stop Frank if he found the need. Lock had always been a suicide risk and not because of depression or unhappiness. He had been so obsessed with the other side that when he chased the crows by the graveyard next to the tree house, there were so many times he was tempted to cross. All the secrets were no longer a mystery to him. He was there in the mystery with them and all the other dead.

Diablo would show more than once. That was his magic. He was the space between life and death. Delta welcomed him in. He was one familiar being from her old life she didn’t mind at all showing up. She remembered a time she had considered shutting him out of her life, but she was glad she didn’t. He was the only connection to her mother she was ever going to have while Maleficent was trapped in that time loop. What she did not know was the more often he came by this world was him feeling her transition was coming. He was a harbinger of death and also a psychopomp as well as a familiar. If only she understood her own existence. She’d learn here forevermore.

Arthur would show face more than once, but three was a crowd. Delta never truly let him in. He would see them and it was always like looking through a glass wall with no door with the emotional barriers Delta put up. She only talked to him one other time than the day she and Frank tried to shove him back to earth. She again told him to go home. But, she’d add that the merry men didn’t have her anymore. She told him it was his job now to watch over them. Then she’d refuse more contact if he’d slip into their world due to sickness, coma, or surgery. She wouldn’t give him any reason to want to stay. She’d roll her eyes about the merry men to Frank that day. They were hers. But, they were Robin Hood’s first. They’d be just fine without her. But, if she gave Arthur a purpose in life maybe he’d stay the fuck away. She’d toast to his good riddance.

Then there was Dr. Jenner Chernabog. He’d become the one “friend” they’d see. It’s not like they went over for afternoon tea, but Jenner was a hellion after all. He had access. The first time she saw him she’d stand offish at first because it brought back the moment he couldn’t fix Frank from damage of Oogie’s mind invasion. This one human plague era doctor was no witch healer with magic hands. She just wished he had been. She’d embrace him just like she had the day in the castle she met him finally meeting her shadow stalker that had always been there. He might have been no angel, but he was a guardian that watched over her, much like Diablo in his own way. He would have heard how the pair dealt with the demons of Hell and dug their own pit staking a claim on their own little piece of this other side they all walked on. Jenner would be proud of that. He of all people knew what it was like for Hell to seep in. The madness had taken him long ago, but he owned it. He refused to let it be torture. He became the torture instead. Delta felt connected to that. So, sometimes if they bumped into one another in the darkness of the other side they’d take a moment to catch up, say hey, and move along with their endless eternal night. Whatever Frank thought, he remained “Uncle Jenner” to her.

Time was a concept that wasn’t linear. Pierre would probably know this best. There were wrinkles in the fabric of time. Delta and Frank would feel like it had been years upon years of their time together on the other side. But, earth time did not run parallel with them. What felt so long to them had only been a couple months to all the people they used to know. It had been long enough to plan funerals, and have them accosted as their bodies were stolen. Dr. Frankenstein and Zero worked diligently on Frank’s rebirth putting his pieces back together again. It was a gruesome assembly that required Zero to dig graves to fill in some missing places. He’d reconstruct the boy to best of his mad scientist ability. Victor was having fun with this particular challenge. He put in extra care because he knew it was important for Zero. This was who he was truly devoted to pleasing with this one.

Then there was River ever vigilant on taking care of Delta’s body. He only needed a little more time. He had everything set and perfect for the ritual. The ice cream trolley freezer had been holding out, but it was starting to kick the bucket. It started to make motor noises. He kept his fingers crossed it would hold. He’d take ice out there daily just in case when he got there it had broken down in his absence. River would notice the crow that kept flying around. What he wouldn’t know was it was Diablo or that he was sensing the change coming in Delta and was trying to be there to help her from one side to the other. Her body being so cold was actually slowing down her process, not that anyone would know that, not even Triton. He was hardly a fae world after life expert. Maleficent kept him on a need to know basis. But, it was coming. It was coming soon.

#deltaxfrank #delta head canon #and / or #starter #or if you have any notes to add to how frank would react to any of that #trying to cover most things before I bring her back

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abbywith3as · 2 years ago

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How Welcome Home characters would react if you asked them to hold your drink:

Wally: He does not respond. He just stares at the drink. Then, suddenly the drink vanishes from your hand. You make a mental note not to ask him to hold your drink ever again.

Barnaby: “Sure, neighbor” He says, and takes your drink. You walk away, but out of the corner of your eye you see him juggling it, along with 4 or 5 other drinks. Your drink is as good as lost.

Julie: She’s really excited that you’re trusting her with this responsibility. She waves to you as you glance back to see if she is still holding it. But then someone asks her to play a party game and she has put it down. You pick your drink up. She notices and says “I’m sorry, I was distracted”. “No worries” You say through gritted teeth.

Frank Frankly: “Okay” He says as you hand the drink to him. You take it back from him, however, as he doesn’t seem too happy about holding it.

Eddie Dear: He happily agrees, but after you hand it to him he starts talking and talking and talking and you weren’t planning to have a conversation you just wanted to put your drink down for a second and now he won’t stop talking.

Howdy Pillar: With so many hands, you’d think he’d be the perfect person to hold a drink for you. But that actually makes him the worst person. You see, with so many drinks in each hand he doesn’t know whose is whose and after you give him your drink he immediately takes a sip before frantically apologizing and offering to get you another one, along with a fresh apple from his orchard.

Sally Starlet: “Never fear, the great and talented Sally Starlet is here and she won’t let you down!

She lets you down. As she pumps her fist in the air to add a dramatic flourish, your drink flies out of her hand and across the room, splashing an unlucky guest in the face.

Poppy Partridge: You thought about approaching her, but as she sees you walk toward her she immediately starts crying so you decide to go ask someone else.

Home: You didn’t even ask them. You were talking to someone else and then all of a sudden you hear “BANG! CLACK! CREAK”

In conclusion, do not trust any Welcome Home character with your drink.

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speckle-meow-meow · 2 years ago

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hey, here's an idea. since it's my birthday today-though it'll probably be long past when you answer this lol-could i have headcanons for the welcome home doing something for it? i figure that headcanons would be easier for everyone. if you only want to do some of them, any three of wally, frank, sally, julie, or howdy is fine. thank you and have a good day!

Dude I am so sorry happy late birfday...

Warning: wee bit of angst

It was your birthday

And everyone knew

So they decided to throw a surprise party!

It was 7 am when you woke up, you felt happier than usual because it was a very special day for you. It was your birthday!!!

Which ment....

BIRTHDAY PANCAKES (or whatever preferred breaky)

After you finished your breakfast you got dressed, you decided to doll up a little and add a little spice to your clothing.

And a little bit of makeup (ik not everyone wears makeup but like... Please let me have this 🥺👉👈)

You looked fantastic!

After you sorted yourself out you left home and made your way to Howdys bug- I mean Bodega.

Everyone saw that you looked slightly different

More pep in your step and more dressy than usual

And they knew why

You stepped inside the Bodega sort of expecting a "HELLO Y/N happy birthday" but it never came.

In all honesty in made you a bit sad but, not everyone has to remember your birthday, especially when you don't remember most people's birthdays. (Not me calling myself out..)

"Hello howdy! How are you today?" You grinned towards your fuzzy tall four armed friend

"Oh hello y/n! I'm doing great! What about you?" He turned to face you

"I'm doing great! After all it is a very special day for me! Which means I'm going to buy a (dessert of choice)!" You giggled hoping that he would know what day it was

But he didn't

"Of course!" He grabbed some metal tongs and grabbed your dessert, putting it into a small box then putting it in your hands "alright there ya go! Enjoy!"

You smiled but it was a meek smile

It pained howdy when you didn't show your usual bright smile

He had to resist telling you happy birthday

After all he couldn't ruin the surprise right?

But oh boy was he wrong...

You passed everyone each hoping you'd have a great day and nothing else, not even Frank who seemed to remember everything said happy birthday

You suppressed the urge to cry until you reached your home. When you got there you threw the dessert you got from the Bodega into the trash. To you it would taste to bitter.

We're you being a bit petty? Or over reacting? Maybe.. But it was your birthday...

Once they saw you go into your house they all prepared poppy barn for your party

Poppy made the sweets

Julie and Sally were discussing activities

Wally was keeping watch just incase you were gonna show up

Frank was putting your presents on a table

Howdy was helping Eddie make decorations while handing/putting them around

Later Julie put a note in an envelope running to your house and putting it on your porch then running after knocking on your door.

You heard the knocks and checked seeing the envelope on the ground.

You picked it up and closed your door, then reading the contents

It was an invite

Deciding not to let your sadness get in the way you got dresses again making yourself presentable, and left.

You arrived at Poppy's and opened the doors

It was quiet, until you heard a loud

"SURPRISE!!!"

Everyone was there!

They did remember!

The night was fully of fun and laughter

You even forgot what your were sad about because you realized that they did remember.

{God's you don't know how much I had to restrain myself to not make it to angsty, anyways I hope you liked this anon and happy late birthday! As always hearts and reblogs are always welcomed along with questions, comments, and requests}

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sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully · 2 years ago

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❥ Hello, lovelies!!

This is just a quick little guideline on what/who I’ll write for, and my boundaries doing as such!

Please also note; this is prone to being updated! I will always keep a tab on when it was last updated at the bottom, so just peek at that every once n a while! Thank you!

Here’s the Masterlist of Everything I’ve Written!

-> ——— <-

❥ General Rules!

Please do not request NSFW! Simple as that. I don’t mind to write very, very mildly suggestive prompts— but it will be. very. very very tame. Like.. intense smooching at most LMAO

Please do not request anything morally iffy! By this, I mean; anything proshipper-esque, racism, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, requesting a character to be straight up abusive or toxic (.. looking at quite a few fandoms /hj), etc.!!

Please be patient when requesting! I am a slow writer, at times! I promise, I will get to you when I can!

Please, please please try your hardest to not request anything that enforces any sort of derogatory or negative stereotypes. Thank you! If this confuses you any, you are free to shoot me a Message or an Ask for clarification!

For sake of my own simple mind /lhj, I will not be writing OC x Canon! However, feel free to thinly veil your OC behind simple prompts (such as anxious, sassy, go-lucky, etc.!), I just get antsy with OCs in particular because I cannot write for a character that isn’t my own all too fast or accurately, like that!!

Expanding on 5., I will also likely not be writing Canon x Canon for a lot of fandoms! This does majorly depend, though, because there are a few Canon x Canon ships in certain fandoms I feel confident to write for! So feel free to shoot a request, anyways! If anything, I’ll note it for later ;]

-> ——— <-

❥ Requesting Guidelines!

When requesting, please try to be relatively in depth! Such as providing a prompt and then specific things you’d like to see expanded on that prompt (such as, example; flustering [character]. How they react to specific things, what would fluster them, etc etc)!

Please specify whether you’d like it to be in headcanon format, or a drabble! If you would like a drabble, please try to provide a clear plot and how you’d like it to go! If I am given a vague prompt, 9/10 it’ll simply be turned into Headcanons, so be specific, please!!

Please specify if you’d like a prompt to be platonic, romantic, or somewhere in between!! I don’t mind this decision being left up to me toooo much, but I still prefer it to be clarified if you have something in mind!! Please don’t be shy!

If you ever want to add a request onto a prompt or expand on the idea with me, you’re absolutely free to! Just make sure I can tell which one you’re talking about (I intend to give all of them titles, so that should help)! I absolutely live to discuss prompts further with people, and I absolutely do not mind writing a spin-off expanding more on whatever we discuss!! I find that delightfully fun :]

… SONG PROMPTS ARE VERY FUN. FEEL FREE TO GIVE ME SONG PROMPTS… /lh /nf

You are always free to merge multiple prompts into one! Feel free to go as in depth as you’d like!

You very very much are always allowed to add back up prompts into your request! They’re somewhat appreciated, and if possible— I’ll typically try to write out both prompts, depending on situation!! Haha!

-> ——— <-

❥ Who/What I Write For!

Welcome Home!

Wally Darling (Platonic or Romantic!)

… the other characters for WH I’m still trying to get a grasp on writing, but you are free to request anyways!! However, please note the rest will all have to be platonic for now until I get better! With that in mind, please request /nf !!There’s only one way to truly get better, after all; practice! Haha!

Oh, I’m also alright with writing Frank and Eddie (Canon x Canon) :]

I imagine I will likely broaden my horizons on fandoms/characters to write for in the future! You are always free to shoot me asking about a certain fandom or character at any time as well! But for now, it’s just Welcome Home :]

❥ Last updated; April 3rd, 2023

#fanfic #writing #drabbles #headcanons #welcome home #welcome home arg #Wally Darling #Eddie Dear #Frank Frankly #Howdy Pillar #Julie Joyful #Poppy Patridge #Sally Starlet #Barnaby B. Beagle #welcome home home #Wally darling x reader #sighsdeeplyanddreadfully

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hisredhysteria · 3 years ago

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Hi, I was thinking abt sth Hoodlum said offhand in episode 4 (like he was planning to ditch Brawler and get closer to Cutthroat instead), so could I please get some HCs for that, like Hoodlum attempting to suck up to cutthroat to be friends? I think it would be funny cause I imagine cutthroat would not care if someone tried to flatter him (Also thank you for the "cutthroat is a ruthless spoon shamer" it put such a funny image in my head of him just roasting the fuck out of a wooden spoon)

Note: IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY THAT I COULD MAKE YOU LAUGH...or at the very least smile— I'd like to think Cutthroat has a grudge against things that don't quite shine as he'd expect them to—

Also, .....I so badly want to share a screenshot of Cutthroat's reaction when Brawler told him to get out of the way because I still laugh at it — and you know what, I'll add the other one I have because I still laugh at it too....sort of related, right..? Maybe not...

♡༄┊Hoodlum ditching Brawler for Cutthroat—!

Well, we can't talk about Hoodlum trying to join alliances with Cutthroat before talking about how Brawler might react...

And that is.... He's quite literally clueless...! ..Ain't no way his bro's ditching him. So why's he hangin' around the white haired stick so much ...?

I'd say 2/3 people in this situation are likely clueless—

You know what, 3/3. Hoodlum doesn't know what's going on either. He knows what he's trying to do, but that only goes so far. He's just throwing words to the wind and hoping what he says sticks to someone...At least, that's his tactic most of the time...

Brawler is still trying to strike up conversations or pull Hoodlum away from Cutthroat in many situations...of course, unaware that Hoodlum is actually attempting to befriend Cutthroat now...and Cutthroat is also unaware as he becomes enamoured with Swindler instead—

Eventually Hoodlum awkwardly tries to explain a lie that'll get Brawler to leave him be...this lie doesn't work all that well either because Brawler finds a loophole around it-! Nice...in which case he'll get both Brawler and Cutthroat under his belt! He's a genius.

At first he resorts to...you know, offering a few words to gas himself up so Cutthroat thinks he's a big shot.

This isn't something Cutthroat cares about...at all....in fact, who cares to listen when Swindler is standing right next to him ..? ..Wait, wait where's she going..!?

It'd actually be more impressive if Hoodlum just let his collar blow off his head..! You know, give Cutthroat pretty red fireworks to look at-!

Even if Hoodlum did live up to his lies though, Cutthroat wouldn't care or acknowledge any of the words spilling from Hoodlums mouth... unless perhaps it's a direct question—

Which means Cutthroat calls for the big guns, huh.. alright! Surely nothing Hoodlum can't play along with... Cutthroat likes red, right..? And he's always saying creepy things ...time to nervously match his energy—!

Cutthroat making any sort of comment about how lovely blood is will be followed up by Hoodlum's very out of place laughter as he also tries to compliment Cutthroat on his... murdering skills... and you know....his ability to kill people Hoodlum sees as a threat...

Of course the rest of the gang knows what Hoodlum's attempting to do and to be quite frank, they're surprised he's even trying...

In just about every circumstance, Cutthroat is leaving Hoodlum while he worries about protecting Swindler.

Hoodlum hiding behind Cutthroat's back..? Well, maybe Cutthroat gives him a curious look if he even acknowledges his presence, but that doesn't last long before Cutthroat's already running the opposite way to save Swindler from a bullet instead—

If Hoodlum gets too close, he may just find himself as another one of Cutthroat's human body shields....and or perhaps a bullet just barely missed him as Cutthroat used his knife to ricochet one out of Swindler's direction—

This eventually causes Hoodlum to become needlessly frustrated trying to keep up with Cutthroat...or to even so much as catch his attention—

Why did Hoodlum think this was the better plan again..?

Hoodlum even tries to ask Swindler her tricks at some point. Why's a murderer so interested in her..?

It was an unwarranted question he let slip though so when Swindler gives him a look he laughs it off...

Brawler recognizes the change of direction in Hoodlum's attention eventually, so naturally he tries to one-up Cutthroat and impress Hoodlum more than he thinks Cutthroat impresses him.

Hoodlum is actually not impressed by Cutthroat though, he's a little scared and just wants Cutthroat to do his dirty work....well....maybe he finds Cutthroat a little impressive because of his knife skills...and his ability to kill without any sort of guilt is a little interesting...

Cutthroat gives Brawler a look of "huh?" everytime he attempts at showing off by challenging him...all for the sake of Hoodlum's praise.

#akudama drive #akudama drive headcanons

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thosewickedlovelies · 4 years ago

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The answer | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Summary: Questions are asked and answered. Takes place immediately following “Ask me”

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags: SMUT, threesome, reader is penetrated; best friends who have always been a little bit in love with each other vibes (inspired by this photo)

Word Count: 1,743

A/N: I’ve been kinda wanting to challenge myself to do a gender-neutral smut piece, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so :) I’ve never written anything like this before (in terms of both the gender-neutrality and the gay vibes), so I’m open to (gentle) constructive criticism <3

“Worry about me later, baby,” Frankie urges. “Right now what I want is to take care of you.” Nectar drips from his voice like that fateful fruit, slicking your descent toward sweet surrender.

"Or watch me take care of you, anyway,” Santiago adds. Still crouched on his knees before you, lips glistening, the round of his spine suggests laser-focus, a predator about to pounce. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but the look in eyes is deferent as he glances over your shoulder to Frankie.

Your partner’s body enfolds you like a silk hammock, a warm, rippling sea in which you have no fear of drowning. Frankie’s chest is bare and smooth against your back, supporting you as if he’s only here to reinforce your pleasure, and not partake of it himself. Although if his words from moments ago were any indication, he was indeed getting his own enjoyment:

“Too good to me, baby,” murmured through sloppy kisses and removing clothes.

“Fuck, you look so good between us,” groaned into your ear while you squirmed, callused fingers on your nipples and Santi's mouth on your neck.

“Yeah, let me hear you,” satisfaction barely audible over the irrepressible moan that Santi drew from you as he slowly worked you open.

Meaningfully Frankie skates his palms down over your hips, dipping tantalizingly close to the burning between them before winging away. Fingers digging into the plush flesh, he spreads your thighs for Santi.

Again. The air vanishes from your lungs at Frankie’s gesture.

He keeps you pinned open as Santiago inches forward and you’re certain you’re trembling, even as fresh arousal wells in anticipation. This feels so much more, somehow- suddenly immediate and undeniable that you’re really here, about to be fucked by your boyfriend’s best friend while said boyfriend holds you open for him.

Perhaps because this isn’t just affecting you. You note, through the throbbing heat demanding your attention, the tension in Frankie’s body framing you. How careful Santi is about where he places his hands- on you or the couch, no longer bold and teasing with Frankie. The skitter of his gaze, like he doesn’t know quite where to focus now that he’s facing both of you so directly. You wonder where Frankie is looking.

When Santi is finally nestled to the base inside you, an inch for every panting breath, you’re not the only shaky one. His muscles quiver with the effort of holding himself over you, the feeling of you engulfing him threatening to overwhelm his good sense. For a moment there is only the strained rise and fall of your chests as both men wait for you to adjust. It’s akin to being rocked by the swells of an ocean, only in this case your anchor is Santiago, keeping his hips flush with yours, keeping you present on the delicious, searing stretch of his cock.

Frankie’s tongue on your neck makes you shiver, and Santi gasps when you clench around him. Smiling, you admire the gleam of sweat at his temples, the desperate lines around his squeezed-shut eyes. It’s difficult to maneuver yourself in this position, but you arch your body into his as best you can, giving him permission to move with a squeeze of his muscular ass.

A raspy laugh slips from him. It’s a bit clumsy at first- accommodating to the weave of limbs in which the three of you are entangled. Possibly this would be easier on a bed or even the floor, but it’s far too late to move now, lost in each other as you are. You know the boys would agree- even if you had the opportunity to be transported with merely a snap of the fingers, it feels right that this should happen here, on a slightly cramped couch, stifling smiles and snorts of laughter but never your eagerness for each other.

Santiago is impossibly beautiful like this. Every hard-earned muscle on display, working in harmony to the cadence that’s always swayed the three of you, however unconsciously. His eyes half-lidded and hazy, his little groans of effort and pleasure complementing Frankie’s caresses. It’s clear from Frankie’s own awed murmurs that he’s experiencing the same bliss you are, and he lets his hands linger on your front so his knuckles brush Santi’s torso. Like strings on a loom pulling gradually tighter, the design you three are creating becomes steadily clearer.

“Damn,” Frankie says hoarsely. The angle of your head prevents you from seeing his expression fully, but you make a wordless sound of wholehearted agreement.

“Mm?” Santiago hums in question despite his own daze, spying something in Frankie’s face that you missed.

“Just…it’s obvious which one of us aged better.”

Frankie’s voice is strained, his body tense. He’s been hard since the moment Santiago said yes, but a tangible slippery patch has grown against your back while the other man rocked in and out of you, long, measured strokes making an easy smear of Frankie’s cock.

Santi looks up, startled. Then his smile crooks. “Shut up, Frank,” he laughs, and the kiss to your shoulder doesn’t feel like it’s for you.

Frankie chuckles, raspy and affectionate, and it’s like the picture is finally identifiable, an outline of this potential future woven clear.

The turn of your head gets their attention. Santiago slows his hips as you stretch your neck toward Frankie, his lips just reachable in this position. But Santi’s thrusts still entirely when you face him next, your kiss brim-full of the same contentment you’d given Frankie. Something fraught flickers between the two men when you pull back; Santiago looks almost shy as, hesitantly and then all at once, he presses his lips to the corner of Frankie’s mouth for a lingering, reverent second.

Frankie’s eyes close and his head tips back as Santi drops his forehead to your shoulder. His curls catch on the bristly hair of Frankie’s jaw, steady, rhythmic again, and you’re not sure of the delineations between your bodies anymore. You feel full, in more ways than one, surrounded both physically and emotionally.

Frankie’s moans are music to your ears as you reach behind you, stroking his cock as best you can while semi-laying on it. Fuck, his husky sounds never fail to heat your blood- a new experience for Santiago, you’re guessing, from the way his eyes flare, fixed on his friend’s dropped-open mouth. There’s been no particular hurry to your activities thus far, but a sense of urgency is growing now, blossoming with every drag of skin on skin, every throaty plea weighting the humid air.

It’s not long before Santi’s grasp on your shoulder slips, flushed with sweat as you are. Fumbling, he braces himself on Frankie’s broader frame, and your partner holds his hand in place, unthinking. Santiago swears. He looks you over, eyes a little wild, then back up at Frankie, imploring.

Obliging, Frankie’s other hand snakes down your front, fingers searching, circling where you’re most sensitive. Distantly you’re aware of him rutting against your back, tiny whines scraping his throat with a familiar desperation. Everything in you tightens around the slick jerk of his fingers.

You cry out as you come, hips arching into Santiago, flattening Frankie’s hand between you. Santi gasps ragged and guttural as you spasm around him, and your rapture careens abruptly higher at the speed and force with which he’s suddenly slamming into you. A jumble of hands hold your shuddering frame in place as Santiago finds his own release, shoving the three of you impossibly deeper into each other.

For a moment it feels as if you’re floating, your body tethered only by the bruising clutch of your hands and theirs. As your awareness returns, you notice that Frankie is rigid behind you, still quivering, his lower half contorted as if to gain as much contact with your skin as possible.

Oh. There’s far too much wetness against your back for it to just be sweat.

A giddy, dreamy laugh wisps from your next exhale. Frankie doesn’t react, but Santi rolls his head to face you with a drowsy hm?

You disentangle one of your hands and lift it to gently rub Frankie’s scalp with your fingertips, tousling the curls as if scratching a pet’s ears. “Just glad we were all able to make it.” Your still-breathless tone carries your meaning. You twist your head to kiss the nearest bit of him, which happens to be his jaw.

Santi lifts his head, his expression somewhere between surprised and smug. Frankie only gives an airy shrug, inclining his head to mouth at your shoulder; the space now shared by both men’s faces.

“Meant what I said,” Frankie offers in his low voice. His gaze flits over what it can reach of Santiago’s naked body.

Surprise completely overtakes the smugness in Santi’s face, his mouth curving up as if he’s powerless to stop it. You observe in delighted disbelief. You know from experience how much it normally takes to make Santiago blush- yet here he is, all afluster at a few words from Frankie. Chuckling, Santi ducks his head again.

You wriggle sideways slightly so as to better see more of Frankie’s face, a shift that results in Santi leaning on him with his whole arm and flank. The thoughtful flicker of his eyes over Frankie’s further exposed torso doesn’t go unnoticed.

“We’ll see,” is all Santiago says; but his contentment is palpable, his tiny smile a confession. Frankie relaxes as the other man collapses again, this time with his head more on Frankie’s shoulder than yours.

The sun is past its peak now, longer shadows interrupting its shine through the windows, but the three of you don’t need it. You can all but see the afterglow illuminating, the way the filaments of a lantern gradually brighten as they warm, casting gentle light on the possibilities presented here.

You regard Santi with an indulgent smile. You sweep it up to Frankie next, softening at the sight of his unruly hair and the relief with which he returns it. There’s an unspeakable kind of gratitude mingling with the adoration in his eyes. As if his thanks could possibly be necessary; as if you would have ever denied either of them the opportunity to explore such long-contained feelings, no matter what your original proposition for this afternoon may have been.

“Next time,” Frankie murmurs, his lips brushing Santiago’s brow, “we’re doing this in a bed.”

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #frankie x reader x santi #triple frontier imagine

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heizuha-queen · 4 years ago

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Hello! It's that girl who doesn't know when to stop coming up with more headcannons at 2am in the morning again.

Another idea sparked in my head.

You know how it's common for K-pop idols to have solo activities such as joining a variety show?

Have you heard of Busted! ?

Not sure if you've heard about this variety program. It airs on Netflix and currently have three seasons. The cast members consists of various celebrities ranging from comedians to actors to idols. Exo Sehun and Gugudan Sejeong are actually members of that show as well. (Btw, Sehun even low-key dressed up as KID once. It was a masterpiece. Period)

The show is a mystery/detective game program. The cast have to solve puzzles and search for clues to complete the missions given. The best part of the program is that the production team doesn't make the cast solve stupid, kid puzzle games.

They have to solve actual, scary, cases. Murders. Robbery. Conspiracy stuff.

So....

What if... Kazuha joins a program like this as a cast member?

I believe she would actually be perfect to join the show for several reasons:

1. Her intelligence

We've seen that she is actually very smart. Her deduction skills may not be as sharp as Heiji's, but we were shown in canon how Kazuha is actually very intelligent, even able to decipher the dying message of the victim in the Heiji Vs Kazuha episode. (If you remember, even Kogoro & Ran weren't able to solve it)

Not just that, remember how in the 7th Movie, Kazuha was able to come up with a really smart way to save Heiji from getting killed by that masked man by just using her sock and rocks?

If she were to join the cast, she'll be a valuable asset that could help them solve the missions much more quickly due to her wits.

2. Her physical prowess

Okay, to be honest, it's not necessary for the cast members to be proficient in martial arts. However, her aikido would definitely be a huge bonus. Imagine a scene where the cast members were all scared and being chased by something (like a villain, criminal,etc) As everyone is running away to not get caught and lose or something, Kazuha just stands there like a badass and back flip the villain like... Wouldn't that be totally awesome?

The production crew may or may not advise Kazuha to not repeat that so the staff members won't turn down their job as future villain roles.

(Also, ever since the back flip incident, the internet may or may not vote her as the most badass K-pop idol to live)

3. Her popularity

Since I think everyone on your blog agrees that Kazuha will be extremely popular, imagine the viewers she would attract to watch the program. It wouldn't be just the Korean audience. Her international fans would watch. Her Japanese audience would watch. Her group's fan would watch.

Of course, most importantly, Heizuha fans would loyally watch every episode as they pray that Heiji would miraculously guest on one of the episodes since they're thirsty for any Heizuha interaction.

(Even a cameo phone call would be enough tbh)

4. Her experience

I strongly believe that no matter how hard Kazuha's agency tried to avoid scandal by hiding the fact that Kazuha has been to a lot of cases and crime scenes (because of Heiji), the internet still discovers it. Hence, the producer of the show believe that she would perfect since she has experience and know how to ACTUALLY act when trying to do detective work. Her attitude would make the (fake) murder case looks real and legit, hence bringing more quality to the show.

5. Her relationship with people who are in the field

I think that, over time, people would discover that Kazuha is a daughter of a very notable and respectable police officer. Due to that, in a way, I think people would trust Kazuha's instinct more on the show, and indirectly, she would unconsciously lead the cast members to solve the mystery without being explicitly bossy nor pushy.

I would also LOVE to imagine that in those EXTREMELY RARE instances where a mission becomes extremely hard, for instance, they've spent longer time than necessary on a clue, the production crew gives them a chance to call someone and ask for help. (Tbh the production crew could just straight up tell them the answer, but where's the entertainment value in that?) Most of the time people would ask Kazuha to call for help since she has connections to a bunch of smart people who could solve the clue in just a few minutes. ( ie; her dad, Heiji).But of course, (for the sake of entertainment lol), the cast prefer if she calls Heiji for help. (Hence, why Heiji makes some cameos on the show through phone calls)

Let's be real, the production crew and cast members are (low-key) hardcore Heizuha shippers.

6. Her personality

She may be hot-headed at times, but that just adds charm to her personality you know? It also sometimes help the cast stay in check to help out with the investigation. At the end of the day, her determination to complete a mission yet adorableness in her interactions are really what makes people love her so much. Her frankness and straightforwardness also helps her forge genuine friendships with the rest of the cast members and production crew. From the show, people could see more than a properly-trained K-pop idol on stage. Rather, a smart individual who is also a human. People get to see her as herself, not just a celebrity.

Of course, I don't think she'll immediately join the program as a rookie K-pop idol. Maybe 5/6 years after her debut, where members of her group are all exploring their own individual solo career?

Although on another note, can you imagine how Heiji would react when she's on the show.

I bet Heiji watches every episode of the show but never admits it. He would also get frustrated when everyone on the show takes too long to find a hint, but have this huge proud smile on his face whenever Kazuha solves it.

Of course, Heiji would tease Kazuha for every small thing she did on the show when they facetime or call each other in private. Just because~

I also imagine Kazuha having to change Heiji's name on her phone to something neutral that doesn't indicate that they're dating. Ever since joining the show, she also has to change the lock screen of her phone since she could be asked to call Heiji for help without any warning. (Better safe than sorry)

I guess that's all for this random shot of headcannons. I hope you enjoy them!

Ps; By the way, if I do end up writing Heizuha fanfics (WE DESPERATELY NEED MORE!!), I'll let you know 😊

Umm PLEASE NEVER LEARN TO STOP BECAUSE I LOVE READING YOUR HEADCANONS!

I really love the idea of Heiji appearing in phone calls and I can imagine him watching every episode. It’s a routine that no one can break for him😂😂

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thesassenachswiftie · 5 years ago

Text

Lover Chapter 11: “I Forgot That You Existed”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10

Summary: Claire runs into someone from her past, which becomes a catalyst for some important decisions to be made. This allows Jamie to finally introduce Claire to his family.

Notes: As always, thank you for reading. I had every intention of this being a very short chapter, but Claire had other plans and made some important life choices instead, so now it's one of the longest chapters I've written! A lot of important things are happening!There's a few instances of smut in this chapter (the first being at the very beginning) if that's something that bothers you; I'm sorry these two won't stop! I'm going to have to seperate them.

Chapter 11: “I Forgot That You Existed”

Jamie woke up to the morning light creeping into the bedroom. This time when he reached for Claire beside him she was there. He drew her naked body close to his, spooning her gently and kissing her head as she hummed sleepily. As she started to blink her eyes open she noticed his growing erection pressed against her buttocks. “Well good morning to you too, Mr. Fraser, Jamie Jr.” she greeted, pressing against him harder.

He grunted a distinctly Scottish noise of sleepy wanting and began kissing her neck. “Mmm…” he groaned. “Jamie Jr. wants to say hullo to ya”

She chuckled, rolling over to turn towards him, “He didn’t say enough to me last night?” she raised an eyebrow coyly, lifting one leg over his legs.

“Och! That was hours ago, seems he misses ya.” he said, continuing to craft the story of Jamie Jr. “He gets chilly in the morning, ya ken? Needs ya to warm him up.”

“Mmm… I’d be much obliged to help him, wouldn’t want him left out in the cold.” she positioned her hips towards his erection, ready to guide him in. He entered her, and they rocked together, eyes locked, stealing languid kisses from time to time. They moved slowly, building up their pleasure, enjoying the closeness of their bond. It was so nice, so peaceful and quiet in the early morning light of the room. The slow movement was really getting to Claire, Jamie’s pelvic bone was perfectly situated so that it was consistently rubbing against her clit, slowly pleading with her to come to the edge of her pleasure. With each stroke her breathing rate increased and she began to whimper and moan as he thrusted. Finally, she shattered around him, crying out his name into the glow of the bedroom. God, he loved the sound of his name on her lips. He saw this as an invitation to increase his speed, rolling on top of her to bring himself home easily, encouraged by her pleasure.

Claire had gotten out of the shower, dressed, and dried her hair all while Jamie was still lingering in the bed, still completely nude, a sight to behold. “Get up you lazy bones! It’s bagel time!”

Jamie grunted, “Ya tired me out last night, Sassenach.” That wasn’t surprising, after they recovered from their lovemaking session on the chaise lounge, he took her against the wall on the way to the bedroom, and they had made love a third time after settling into bed. He stretched dramatically across the bed--he was a sight to behold and was sending her a clear message with his body language--he knew exactly what he was doing. “Nice try, but my appetite is solely for Murray’s Bagels right now and I won’t be distracted until I get some. If you don’t get up soon I’m going without you!”

“Hmmpfff, at least I’d know where ya went this time.” he replied smugly.

“Actually, I could just pop out and grab them, if I call in the order before I leave it’ll just be a quick trip, I’ll be back by the time you’re out of the shower, if you ever plan on getting out of bed.” She tossed a decorative pillow that had ended up on the floor at him playfully.

“Aye Sassenach, that’s a braw plan, I don’ wanna keep ya from yer wee bagels any longer.”

“Here’s the menu” she handed her phone to him. “Let me know what you want”

“Hmm… Omelets on a bagel, that sounds… different, but delicious all the same… McCann’s Irish oatmeal, definitely want to try some of that. I always say parritch is the best way to start the day”

“McCann? Wouldn’t that be Scottish, with the ‘Mc’ at the beginning?”

“Nae, Sassenach, that one’s the Irish Gaelic.”

“Oh I didn’t realize they had ‘Mc’s’ too.”

“Spoken like a true Sassenach” he teased, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ll teach ya a lesson later about how to tell a Scot from an Irish man.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled knowingly. “Have you decided what you want yet?”

“Aye, I’ll have the Western Omelet on a Bagel, McCann’s Oatmeal, and… a black and white for dessert.”

“Well, you certainly worked up an appetite last night, sir, anything to drink?”

“Aye, I’ll have a cappuccino if it's no’ too much trouble.”

“None at all darling, I’ll call it in now.”

----------

The second Claire stepped into the small bagel shop, the nostalgia of the purely delicious scent of fresh baked good wafting through the air caused her mouth to water with anticipation. She was excited to eat, but she also was excited to share the experience with Jamie. The picture of him lounging naked was still fresh in her mind and she could hardly wait to get back to him. It had only been a ten-minute walk, but she was glad she ordered ahead so she didn’t have to wait any longer. She approached the counter and spoke to the young hipster at the cash register, “Pick up for Claire?”

“That’ll be $33.86.” Claire inserted her card into the small white card reader as the cashier swiveled an iPad screen around for her to add a tip and sign. “Here’s your food, the drinks will be just a moment, we like to make them fresh”

She smiled. “Not a problem.”

“Claire?” she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she heard her name in a familiar, distinctly British voice that had once reminded her of her father, but now only felt cold. She hadn’t thought about Frank once this week, she’d all but forgot that he existed in recent months, her thoughts entirely occupied by Jamie. The fact that she had moved past him didn’t make it any easier to turn around and face him for the first time in months.

“Frank!” she chuckled nervously, “Long time no see!”

“What brings you into the city?”

“Went to see Wicked yesterday, thought we’d make a weekend out of it.” She wasn’t sure she should have used the pronoun we, she didn’t want Frank to react to her being with Jamie, it was a touchy subject between the two of them. Hopefully he would assume she was with Jo and not brooch the subject any further.

“Cappuccino and a Chai for Claire!” the barista shouted.

She turned back to the counter. “That’s me. Could I get a carrier for them?” The barista loaded them into a recycled cardboard carrier and handed it across the counter.

“Here you go. Have a great day!”

“Thanks, you too!”

Frank eyed her suspiciously, “Who’s the cappuccino for?” Damn. He remembered her order and apparently Jo’s as well. Jo was a vegan and of course wouldn’t order a creamy cappuccino, usually opting for black coffee instead.

“I’m not entirely sure that’s any of your business.” she replied coldly.

“It’s not that filthy Scot is it? Surely he’s not still around.”

She felt a fire rise up within her at his words. She no longer felt anything towards the man standing before her, not love, not hate, just indifference, but she did love the man waiting for her several blocks away and hearing Frank insult him so casually caused something in her to snap.”

“Jamie is more of a man than you’ll ever be.” she hissed viciously. She continued in a low, cutting voice, she didn’t intend to cause a scene, but the fury welling up inside her had to be released. “He sees me in a way that you never could, he treats me better than you ever did. We’ve made love no less than four times in the past twenty-four hours and I might just go do it again. He’s the best fuck I’ve ever had. He is more of a man than you’ll ever be in every possible way.” She knew her words were cutting deep, hurting his pride, his ego, his fragile masculinity, everything holding his identity together and she couldn’t care less. Frank had shown who he was and she had no reason to stand for his bullshit any longer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get this cappuccino to him before it gets cold.” On that note, she stormed out of the shop leaving him dumbfounded, an embarrassed flush on his face, eyes darting around the shop suspicious of anyone who may have heard.

She took a deep inhale of the crisp fall air to calm her nerves. The initial surge of adrenaline she felt in seeing them had mingled with something else, something empowering that was flowing through her veins. She strode the sidewalks with confidence, beaming with pride at finally telling Frank off. She thought that telling Frank about Jamie would kill her, but it didn’t. In fact, it had the opposite effect. How many days had she spent thinking about how he did her wrong? How much time had she wasted letting him live in her mind rent free? The first iteration of her and Jamie’s relationship she was constantly comparing the two, and Frank always came up short, but he was always there, lurking in the back of her mind, she couldn’t get away from him. She had been living in the shade Frank and his cronies were throwing until all her sunshine was near gone. Now, she felt free of that, she was ready to step out into the light and leave that part of her life behind her once and for all. Frank may have brought her reputation down, he may have tripped her up and left her on the ground, but he wouldn’t keep her down any longer. He taught her some hard lessons, and for that she was grateful, but she didn’t need to think about him anymore. She realized she had found herself and who she truly wanted to be and Jamie was the one who brought it out of her. She didn’t feel like she needed him to have that sense of self, more that he allowed her to be who she was unquestioningly. He drew out parts of her that she had long since hidden trying to be the ‘perfect woman’--whatever that meant. Jamie absolutely left her tongue tied and giddy. She found herself in her feelings more than Drake, but their relationship went so much deeper than the infatuation it seemed to be at the beginning. Something happened one magical night, and she couldn’t even pinpoint exactly when, but she knew with great certainty that their love was unshakeable. She would stick around for him while he was gone. She would have fought the whole town, not just Frank, for him if she had to. She would be right there for him, no matter what. He was there for her when no one else was, (except Jo, steadfast friend that they were), and she would be the same.

----------

She had gotten back to Cornelia St. quicker than she realized, lost in her thoughts and realized she had forgotten what the code to the door was--with everything that had happened in the last half hour, it was all just a blur. She had to call Jamie again for the numbers and she ascended the steps to the apartment, once again Jamie greeted her at the door. He was freshly showered and wearing just his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips and smelling strongly of some manly shower gel. His curls were still damp and his fair skin was flushed from the heat of the shower. God, he was attractive no matter what state he was in.

“Breakfast is served” she chimed as she handed him his cappuccino, walking to the dining room table to dig in.

“Thank ya, Sassenach” he kissed her, taking his bag of food from her and settling at the table to enjoy his portion.

There was so much Claire was bursting to tell him, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. She didn’t want to hide the fact that she had run into Frank, there was nothing to hide, but she didn’t want to kill her positive mood by upsetting Jamie either. She had also made two decisions on her walk: the first being that she no longer wanted to hide their relationship and the second, that she needed to move out of the house she co-owned with Frank as soon as possible. The first topic of conversation wouldn’t be difficult, but the second was more complicated. She had a feeling he wouldn’t mind moving in together under normal circumstances, but he was leaving and his apartment was owned by his sister. Jo’s apartment was almost as small as Jamie’s, but she didn’t think Jo would be as keen to let her share a bed.

First things first, she thought, sliding her phone out of her pocket with an exaggerated gesture, a coy smile on her face, holding the phone surreptitiously close to her body, glancing up to try to catch Jamie’s eye as he enjoyed his breakfast. Moments later, his phone on the table lit up. He glanced across the table curiously as he peered at the screen, a Facebook notification Claire Beauchamp sent you a relationship request.

Jamie’s face flushed with joy. “What’s this?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. The look on his face reminded Claire of a puppy who had just gotten a new toy.

“I’m done hiding.” She declared, a proud smile on her face.

“Really?” he lit up the room with his smile, his heart felt fit to burst, it took great restraint not to dive across the table and scoop her into his arms. She nodded in affirmation. “Oh Claire! I canna tell ya how happy I am ta hear it.”

“I’m glad” she was smiling, touched by his reaction as he accepted the request, adding the words ‘In A Relationship with Claire Beauchamp’ permanently to his profile.

“What about Frank?”

“Funny you should mention that; I actually ran into him while I was out.”

“Oh Claire,” his face transformed, a look of concern on his brow and he reached across the table for her hand.

“I’m fine, I promise. Better than fine actually.” She flashed a satisfied grin, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I told him off. He called you a filthy Scot and I tore his stupid ego to pieces.” She was smirking, clearly proud of herself.

“I thank ye for defending my honor, milady.” He held her hand up, and leaned over the table to kiss it. “And I’m proud of ya for standing up to him, I know it couldna‘ve been easy. You’re a brave wee thing Claire, and ya make me so happy.” They sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the glow of their mutual feelings for one another.

“There’s one other thing” she put forward, much more hesitant than before.

“What is it, mo chridhe?”

“I have to move out of that house. Frank co-owns it and I want to cut my ties with him completely, but I’m not sure what to do, it’s been impossible to find a place of my own within my budget.”

“I could talk to Jenny about ya staying at my place while I’m gone, it’s not much, but I’m sure she’ll be happy that someone will keep the dust from gathering.”

“Really? You think she’d be ok with it?”

“I canna say for sure; my sister can be a fickle wee thing, but I’ll ask her.”

“Oh, Jamie, that would be perfect!”

----------

Regardless of what Jenny ultimately said, they decided that Claire would spend the remainder of the week at Jamie’s before he had to fly back to England on Saturday. Jamie was elated to finally properly introduce Claire to his family as his girlfriend, and had a feeling Jenny would love Claire almost as much as he did. Jenny had already been blowing up his phone since the changed relationship status earlier that morning, and before they left the AirBnB he called her and it was decided that he would bring Claire over that later night. Jenny insisted on having a proper family dinner, and when Jamie nervously broached the subject with Claire, she eagerly accepted the invitation to his great relief.

“I have met Jenny before.” she explained, recognizing his apprehension.

“Aye, but ya dinna think bringing ya home for dinner gives off ‘meet the parents’ vibes?”

“Hmm… perhaps you’re more nervous about this than I am. What kind of dirt does your sister have on you? I can’t wait to find out.” She smirked, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as they walked the city sidewalks, headed to their final destination on Jamie’s list before leaving the city. It was, of course, a carriage ride through Central Park. Claire couldn’t help but laugh at how cliché it was, but at the same time so fitting for the hopeless romantic Scotsman she’d found herself falling more and more in love with every moment.

On the carriage ride, Jamie filled Claire in on all the members of his family, although she already felt she knew them he spoke of them so often. She listened intently however, she’d always loved the way he spoke of his family, and he seemed nervous about how the evening would go and she knew talking about it would help ease him. He wanted everything to go smoothly, he knew Claire was special and he wanted Jenny to recognize it too. He had every intention of spending the rest of his life with her and that process would be a lot easier if Jenny welcomed her into the family wholeheartedly.

----------

They spent most of the train ride home snuggled together, checking the myriad of notifications on their phones. Most were some iteration of the expression “What?!?” or eye emojis imploring for more information. Jamie’s thread had a few borderline lewd comments, and Claire’s had a few angry reacts from Frank’s crowd mixed in with the likes and ‘wow’ reactions. Jamie had a few “pics or it didn’t happen” comments and he asked Claire for permission to post the selfie they had taken that weekend. Gaining her consent, he uploaded the picture to Instagram with the caption: Wonderful weekend in the city with my lass ❤️ . He shared it to Facebook as well, tagging her. She felt that reoccurring swarm of butterflies again as she opened the notification and read his caption, musing on the words my lass with that tiny red heart. He really did make her feel like a teenager again, every little expression of love making her giddy. It didn’t matter who thought poorly of their relationship, they couldn’t possibly understand and wouldn’t try. Nothing could crush her spirits now, their love was too strong, too powerful for her to care anymore. Their love was a solid anchor holding fast, neither wind nor waves could sweep them away into darkness so long as they had each other. It seemed there was no storm strong enough to sweep them away.

They arrived back at the train station on Long Island in the early afternoon; Jamie followed Claire back to her house so she could gather what she needed for the week. Jamie parked his car behind hers in the driveway and followed her in through the front door. It was strange that he hadn’t been here since the night they met, New Year’s Eve nearly a year ago. The house had been decorated extravagantly then, and now looked stark and barren by comparison. There didn’t seem to be any personal touches in the decor, it looked more like a home you’d see in a magazine or a music video.

“Are you sure it’s ok for me to be here?” he whispered reverently, as if they had just stepped into a mausoleum and not a large suburban foyer.

“Of course, it is my house after all. At least half mine, and Frank hasn’t been here in months, he packed all his things and left for good it seems.”

“Is there still a bar downstairs?” he asked smoothly.

“It’s a little early for a drink, isn’t it Mr. Fraser? But yes, it’s still there, not as well stocked as it was when you were last here.” It had just dawned on Claire that Jamie hadn’t been here since the night they met. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” she said coyly as she led him to the finished basement.

“This is where we met.” she said, stating the obvious.

“I see ya have bar stools now.”

“Yes, though I can’t say I use them much,” she replied, resigned to the fact that her house was an empty shell of what it could have been.

“Still sitting on the bar then, Ms. Beauchamp?”

“Why, is that how you like your women?” She eyed him flirtatiously, backing into the bar and hoisting herself up.

“My women and my whiskey” he replied, approaching her and beginning to kiss her neck. “Mmm, ya looked so bonny that night, yer wee curls piled atop your head like a crown. Yer gorgeous legs dangling off the bar” speaking between kisses, he ran his hands up her thigh, wishing they were as bare as they had been that night, instead of denim clad as they were now. “I ken I wanted ya then, Claire, imagined running my hand up that dress of yours.” he pantomimed exactly what he had wanted to do, landing his palm on her fully clothed crotch.

Claire moaned, feeling warmer and warmer underneath his hand, also beginning to silently curse the fact that she’d worn jeans. “I wanted you then too, I know I shouldn’t have, but when I saw those hands around that whiskey glass,” she took his hand, the one that wasn’t on her jeans, to her mouth and sucked lightly on his index finger. “I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like on my body.”

“Aye? Whereabouts on yer body”

She moaned again, as restrictive as her jeans were starting to feel, there was something to be said about the friction the fabric was creating between his fingers and the center of her pleasure. “Mmm… right about where they are now.” she sighed again, as he caressed in just the right spot “only in my imagination, we weren’t wearing quite as much”

“Aye, mine too, but I think that can be arranged.” he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, helping her wiggle out of them. Freed from her denim cage she spread her legs wide on the edge of the bar. “Christ Claire, this is better than I ever could have imagined. He pulled her shirt over her head, and then his own, and removed his own jeans before returning his mouth to her skin. Her position atop the bar brought her breasts right to his eye level, spilling out of a lacy green bra in perfect contrast to her milky skin. He brought his palms to them, massaging them and drawing them close as he planted kisses along her neck. “Dija imagine my hands here, Sassenach?”

“Mmm… yes.” He continued his trail of kisses, moving down her breasts, sucking her nipples through the thin fabric as she continued to whimper and moan. She had been running her fingers through his hair, tugging at the curls, and removed one hand to unclasp her bra behind her back, freeing her breasts for him to devour with his lips and tongue, which he did eagerly. He moved one hand from her breast down her torso, and thrust it into the waistband of her matching lacy panties.

“And ye definitely imagined my hand here, aye?” he asked, stroking her clit vigorously.

“Yes! Jamie!” she cried out, panting with need and desire. He continued to stroke small circles around that bundle of nerves until she was begging for more, “Please, Jamie” she gasped.

“Mmmm, what?” he inquired, clearly enjoying teasing her.

“I want you inside me,” she moaned, pulling at the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“No.” he replied, brushing her hand aside.

“No?” she inquired, a bit wounded, hoping she’d misheard.

“No mo nighean donn,” he responded, thrusting a finger inside her as she gasped, his thumb taking over the dexterous work of stroking her clit, “I want ta watch you.”

All Claire could do was moan in response, and he continued pleasuring her, watching intently for every flinch of her face, enjoying every whimper that escaped her swollen lips. He wanted to be able to picture her exactly like this when he was gone, gasping his name in the low light. He took it all in as he finally brought her over the edge of her pleasure, the way her wild curls flew back as she cried out his name in pure, orgasmic bliss. This is the picture he wanted of her always in his mind during their time apart--he committed every inch of her to memory as he gently nursed her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

----------

The atmosphere of the Murray house was warm and inviting. The smell of something delicious and savory wafted through the air. It was a stark contrast to the home Claire had just left behind. Where her walls were bare and unpainted, the walls of the foyer were covered in a cornflower blue damask wallpaper, scuffed and scratched in places, cluttered with picture frames and children's drawings taped on askew at intervals. Where Claire’s honey colored faux wood floors were neat, polished and clutter-free, the dark wooden floorboards of the front hall of their farmhouse was rustically weathered with age, had piles of shoes spilling over near the door and stray toys along the baseboards. Deafening silence awaited Claire upon her arrival home each night, but here, the sounds of life could be heard everywhere as if the walls themselves were vibrating with it. Laughter of children could be heard from somewhere far upstairs, or perhaps downstairs? Claire couldn’t tell, but it was a beautiful sound to her after living in silence for so long.

“Jenny, Ian, we’re here!” Jamie shouted through the house.

“Uncle Jamieeeee!” a small girl with brown pigtails came bounding through the hallway, throwing herself at him, followed instantly by two boys, one around middle school age, the other quite a bit younger, lingering around his legs, vying for his attention.

“Maggie, Michael, Young Jamie! Och! I’ve only been gone a wee couple a days!”

“Uncle Jamie! Ma says if I do all my schoolwork this week we can play video games all night Friday night!”

“Uncle Jamie, come look at the picture I drawed!”

“Uncle Jamie, can we play race car drivers?”

Jamie felt himself being pulled into the vortex of the house, and Claire stood awkwardly in the small foyer, unsure of what to do. Another small little girl had appeared, younger than the first, wide-eyed and staring at Claire from a doorway down the hall. She tugged on her uncle’s shirt. “What is it Kitty my girl?” Claire didn’t hear her reply, but she must have elicited that it was confidential information, because Jamie knelt down on one knee and she cupped her tiny hands around his ear to whisper into them.

“Who’s that pretty lady?” she whispered, softly enough that only Jamie could hear; Claire could only see the smile that stretched across his whole face in reaction, catching her eye across the hall.

“Kids, I’d like ya to meet Miss Claire.” he announced, reaching out his hand to beckon her towards them. The sight made Claire’s breath catch briefly, and for a moment, there were no children, no toys strewn about, no scratches in the wallpaper. Just Jamie, blue eyes locked on hers, down on one knee, holding her left hand. She couldn’t help but to imagine him in this exact position, asking her to spend the rest of their lives together and that thought didn’t scare her anymore. In fact, it was something she hoped for in the depths of her heart. She realized she’d been standing there gawking at him for a few moments too long after he’d introduced her and broke contact to look at all the children Jamie had just introduced, having already forgotten their names, save young Jamie which was easy to remember for obvious reasons.

“Pleased to meet all of you” she smiled warmly at the children, “thank you for allowing me into your home.” The littlest girl tucked herself bashfully behind her uncle’s now-standing legs, peering out from behind them to smile at Claire.

The little girl with the pigtails, evidently less shy, approached Claire and extended her hand, “Pleased to meet you too” she said, mimicking Claire’s tone as best she could as Claire accepted her hand shake. “You’re very pretty. Are you Uncle Jamie’s girlfriend?” Claire couldn’t help but blush and smile at the question, turning to Jamie, she saw his face had a similar expression. She silently asked his permission to answer the question and he gave a subtle nod of assent.

“Yes, yes I am” she said. Saying it out loud felt even more refreshing than updating her Facebook status earlier had made her feel. That giddy teenager feeling was once again at the forefront of her conscience, giving her a solid foundation and the courage to face whatever the days, weeks, and months ahead of her would bring.

They followed the children into a small playroom cluttered with every kind of toy imaginable. Colorful drawers and large shelves showed an attempt at organization, but there seemed to be no system the children were capable of following and toys, books, games and dress up clothes were strewn about throughout the room. The children vied for their Uncle’s attention, and those who were less shy included Claire, eager to show all their favorite toys and explain their imagined lives to someone new.

“Kid’s! Wash yer hands, it’s time for supper!” Jenny’s voice bellowed from the kitchen. Jamie helped encourage the children to heed their mother, delicately playing both sides to convince them how awful their mother would be if they didn’t, simultaneously making it a competition to see who could get their hands the cleanest. Claire played along as best she could, admiring how good Jamie was with the children. He would make a great father someday. Picturing her with his own brood of red-headed children filled her heart with a radiant joy that traveled through her chest, and deep into her gut. Perhaps it was too soon to think about it, but she imagined herself carrying his children, giving him that gift, the warm smile he would have at becoming a father. He could see him tossing a giggling toddler in the air, kissing boo-boos, wiping away tears, reading bedtime stories. The thought was enough to bring her to tears, as she stood there observing him lost in a daydream, a goofy smile plastered on her face, blushing at how far she’d let her thoughts carry her away, hoping her glass face wouldn’t give away too much.

They headed into the dining room and settled at the Murray’s large dining room table. A man with a fair complexion and kind eyes limped into the room with the help of a cane held in one hand, carrying a child who couldn’t have been more than a year old in his other arm. He lifted her into a high chair beside the head of the table.

“Claire, this is my best friend and brother-in-law, Ian, and of course, wee Janet.” Jamie said, gesturing towards Ian with one hand and using the other to tousle the baby’s fine hair.

Claire rose from her seat and extended a hand to Ian. “Pleased to meet both of you.”

“Welcome, Claire!” Ian said, taking her hand in both of his and shaking it warmly “So glad ta finally meet the lass responsible for the goofy smile that’s been plastered on Jamie’s face for some time!” he teased.

“Och! ‘twas worse than when ya started dating my sister, need I remind you! Were practically running into the walls yer heid was so far up in tha clouds.” Jamie retorted good-humoredly.

Claire was loving every moment spent inside the walls of the Murray household. The love of family seemed to spring out of the very woodwork of the happy home and Claire was so glad to know that Jamie had such a large and loving family to spend time with when he was so far from home. She liked Ian immediately, and was also pleased that Jamie had such an amiable best friend he could be himself around--and one who got to join his family to boot! The light-hearted and loving atmosphere gave her a warm feeling, like the kind she got watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies. She felt wistful that she had never really had such a sense of family in her life. She never really knew what she was missing, but now that she saw it for herself, it was something she desperately wanted for herself and she hoped the Murray’s wouldn’t mind taking her in as one of their own so she could enjoy this feeling again and again.

A short, dark haired woman with severe features and piercing eyes walked into the room, carrying a large roast which she placed in front of Ian to carve. Claire was surprised at how small Jenny was, she hadn’t noticed it as much when they were both seated at young Ian’s football game, and the way her voice bellowed through the house calling for her children, she had imagined her to be much larger. Her presence certainly commanded more space than her stature would imply. Jamie stood up as Jenny entered, “Jenny, you remember Claire, from young Ian’s football game, right?” He placed his hand on the small Claire’s back, proudly beaming as he presented the love of his life to his dear sister.

“Nice to see ya again Claire, glad my brother’s finally stopped hiding ya away in the garage.” she raised an eyebrow and Claire wasn’t sure what to make of the expression.

“Can I help you with anything?” Claire asked, she was nervous and desperately wanted to make a good impression on Jenny.

“Aye, why don’t ya come help me carry the sides in.” Claire caught Jamie’s eye, and he gave her silent reassurance that she’d be alright, and she followed Jenny into the kitchen.

“So yer the lass who spent naer every night this summer in my brother’s flat without so much as a word from him about ya.”

“It was--I--” Claire hesitated, wondering how best to explain herself.

Jenny, however, continued on, “It’s not any of my business what my brother decides to do, or who he decides to entertain; that’s his space and as long as he keeps his intimate relations out in the garage and away from my children I’m fine with it. I’m sure ya have yer reasons for hiding away, and I don’t ken enough about ya to ken if they’re honorable or not, but I do ken ya make my brathair happier than I’ve seen him in a long time, and I’m grateful for that.” Claire smiled in response to that, ready to respond that Jamie made her just as happy, if not more, but Jenny wasn’t finished. “I also ken something happened last month that makes me feel inclined not tae trust ya so much. He tried to hide it--well enough that the bairns didn’t notice, but I ken my brathair and he was a shell of a man for near on a month. It seems Jamie’s willing to forgive ya and I’m inclined ta do the same, but if ya ever hurt him again I won’t be so forgiving. I trust my brathair’s judgement and I wanna trust you as well Claire, but I’m afeard yer gonna have ta prove yerself.”

Claire paused a moment to make sure Jenny was done with her speech before responding. “Jenny, I swear to you, Jamie has my whole heart. I definitely made more than a few mistakes in our relationship but all they did was lead me to realize that Jamie and I truly belong together. We have something deep and strange between us that I can’t explain, it’s like we were destined to be together. I never really believed in a higher power before I met Jamie, but now I feel as though there must be something out there, because it’s like some unseen hand is drawing us together against all odds. Jenny I swear to you, I will never hurt your brother again, I’d only be hurting myself if I did. I’m all in, and I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but I hope in time, you’ll see the truth of my words.”

“Aye, I hope so too” Jenny gave Claire a compassionate smile and handed her a truly large bowl of mashed potatoes. “Here, you can carry these in for me, thanks fer yer help.”

“Thank you Jenny, I’m so glad Jamie has such a wonderful family who cares so much about him.”

“Och, ‘tis what family’s for. Now come on, let’s eat.”

End Note: Ok, I know the order of Jenny's children is all messed up, but young Ian had to play football and everyone is too young for the Murray kids to be all grown. It's fine, who can really keep them all straight anyway? Don't @ me.

#lover #outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #outlander fic #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #frank randall #jenny murray #ian murray #inspired by taylor swift #fuck frank #i forgot that you existed #smut #fluff

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juminly · 5 years ago

Text

Love Written in The Stars

Summary: When Leonardo only thought that he would look after you as a guardian, as a friend. He never expected to fall so deeply in love with you. Matchup story written for @meverilan.

Note from Leonardo: “I dedicate this song to you, mi amore. It made me think of you and I hope you enjoy it and always know, you are more than enough to me.” - You are Enough by Sleeping at Last.

You were very lucky to find yourself in the mansion at a time where most of the residents were out and about except for a few. Arthur was in the city, playing detective; Vincent was in the gardens, painting away; Theo was doing some gallery scouting; Napoleon had managed to forcefully convince Jean to join him in teaching the orphans in the city some self-defense.

Comte always takes it upon himself to take good care of his guests and he always ensures to do so. Thoroughly. There’s also the fact that Sebastian also acts as his sharp eyes and ears so you had two guardian angels watching over you from the moment you arrived, without you even knowing it. While Comte showed you around, you discovered all the historical figures that were living in the mansion. It was all too surreal and daunting but obviously, you still managed to plaster a smile on your face.

While walking through the hallways with Comte, you heard a low husky voice calling out to him. “Didn’t you have something important to attend to, Mr. Le Comte?”

What was this tall man (quite respectfully flirtatious man, if I may add) talking about? Comte actually had something to attend to and he put it on hold and disregarded it because he wanted to be there for you. (Isn’t he just the perfect gentleman? Come on…)

The vampire had called you “a refreshing beauty”[in Italian] the moment he saw and the blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed. That was enough for him to register the fact that you were quite a shy one, in his mind.

Leo is quite the observant type and empathetic, so just a few glances at you, he was able to take a few mental notes on you [and they were 99.9% accurate, most of the time, if not, all the time]. He also noticed the slight wavering in your eyes that indicated that you didn’t truly believe what he said.

[Men had a way of whispering sweet nothings into people’s ears, only to use them as a means to an end. Was he that type? You didn’t really know him so you couldn’t tell, but it didn’t mean that these thoughts didn’t/wouldn’t cross your mind.]

Leonardo came to the rescue, sweeping in and picking up where he basically persuaded Comte to leave because whatever business he had was important and his best friend knew. After introducing himself to you, the Italian polymath took over and that’s where your story began.

At first, the smell of his cigarillo was quite strong but it had an inconspicuous sweetness to it that was quite delightful. He asked you if you were bothered by it, not knowing if you would be or not, since he found your eyes focused on the smoke he puffed from his lips. The scent was oddly comforting and added some sort of mysterious and alluring coat to his aura.

As you wandered the mansion with him, Leonardo took it upon himself to give you a thorough briefing about the residents, not that you didn’t know of them, but interacting with historical figures was a completely different story and he knew that (especially when they were all vampires).

He was able to get your attention by promising to let you in on the biggest secret of the entire mansion (after your tour ended). Even Sebastian didn’t know this secret.

The location of Theo’s stash of sweets was the biggest mystery in the mansion and Leo was the only person, aside from Theo, who knew where it was (and the younger Van Gogh was unaware of this fact). [Best ice-breaker ever!]

That man was probably the biggest sweet-tooth beast of Paris. Leonardo probably said something along those lines and it kinda reminded you of the cookie monster, which made you giggle when you met Theodorus for the first time, a day later (and the man was awfully confused and did not understand why you reacted the way you did).

Being part of the rowdy breakfast with the other residents was sometimes a little bit too much to take and draining as well, since a lot would be happening at the same time but it was a great opportunity for you to observe and understand more about the residents, piecing together the information that Leo had given you with your surroundings.

Arthur was his usual flirtatious self and getting on his bestie’s (Theo, obviously) nerves. Their banter was joined by the commentary of Dazai, the annoyance of Mozart and Isaac and Vincent, the angelic presence whose smile managed to brighten up your day almost instantly. Since you were the new person around, they couldn’t really hold back on all their questions to you, which was actually pretty overwhelming for you.

Leonardo was always there for you though, stopping them in their tracks whenever things became a little too much for you. [and this did not escape Arthur’s attention. He has a keen eye for human behaviour, being a former physician and he had vast knowledge about how the human body worked and coupled with his analytical side that came with being a writer].

You hadn’t given Leonardo any indication about how you felt or how you were but he didn’t have to. From the first few days, Leonardo became the closest person to you and you assumed that it was because he looked after you, the way he would with a little sister. He could only imagine how hard it was to be thrown in the past, into the unknown.

So when you confided in him and told him about having ADD, he simply nodded while you talked, giving you the space and time to explain whatever you were comfortable in telling him. He respects your boundaries and was fine with whatever you were able to tell you. He didn’t push for more. When you were done talking, he smiled and told you how he was curious to know about you and he wanted to make your time in the past, as pleasant as possible [until you had to go back to the present].

It was a vow that he declared to you, with the purest intentions. He was a pureblood after all, each and every human he came across was worth admiring and you were definitely one of them. Why did he think that way? He knew that you were shying away in an invisible cocoon and he was standing right outside of it, his hand outstretched, just for you to take it. Every second, every minute, every hour of a human’s life counted and he wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t regret not having done anything whatsoever during the time you had in Paris.

The more time you spent in the mansion though, you became a little more acquainted with the residents and felt a bit more comfortable around them, as they became a part of your daily life. Living in the same mansion made you all like roommates and somehow, they all looked out for you like you were family.

Being a jack of all trades, most of the residents looked up to Leonardo as someone they could rely on, to go to when in need. He had such a carefree and laid back attitude, which made him approachable by all and many. You noticed that, not only with the residents, but also the townspeople.

Leonardo had told Vincent about a beautiful land he had discovered while wandering the outskirts of Paris one day and decided to organize a trip to spark the painter’s muse. Leo obviously invited you to come along and it was definitely a relaxing and insightful outing. You had the chance to watch, none other than THE Vincent Van Gogh, paint so masterfully, while being surrounded by the most beautiful of views in all of France: a large field of greenery, with tulips and daffodils.

It was like staring into a canvas, created by nature and Vincent wasn’t the only one that felt inspired. Leonardo brought along a drawing notebook just for you, where he gave you tips and instructions on how to go about sketching and analyzing the overall form of your sketch subjects before looking into the more intricate details.

He was an amazing teacher, his instructions were simple yet very clear and concise. He also gave you constructive feedback, even leaning in to adjust parts of your sketches while holding your hand, the sweet scent of his cigarillo would fill your nostrils, almost distracting you completely from your task. And even if it did, Leonardo would chuckle and tease you, bringing your attention back to the task at hand with a kiss on your hand.

The first time he did that, you couldn’t help but be completely surprised and taken aback. But you knew that he wasn’t the type to try to take advantage of you or anything, so you would laugh it out and throw in a sarcastic remark, which only made the vampire boom with laughter [which, if I may be frank, is such a wonderful sound, you wouldn’t be able to resist not laughing along with him].

That outing was more lengthy than you thought it would be and you ended up staying out until late at night, when Vincent was inspired by the night view of another area which you happened to cross while heading back to the mansion.

You were immediately captivated by the clear night sky, the stars twinkling and inviting you to simply marvel at them. And that only prolonged your time together even more. And right then and there, a new ritual was created.

For 12 consecutive nights, Leonardo recounted to you the story behind each horoscope and where their stars were located, telling you about the tales from Roman and Greek myths and started with the story of Scorpio and the Greek myth of Orion, the son of Posiedon and Euriale.

He didn’t mind repeating himself as many times as he had to and was not bothered by it, one tiny bit. If you flooded him with questions, he would answer each and every single one of them. Leo was not the type to get annoyed at all so you were always relaxed and comfortable around him.

He loved seeing the expression on your face as it lit up as the information and inspiration would sink in. Knowledge was a beautiful thing in itself, but it was even more beautiful when shared with others. With Leo, it was oddly intimate, especially with the mix of emotions that came with interacting with him.

Your night escapades of tales of myth and astrology (and art, because Vincent would sometimes join to do some painting) became even more interesting when Isaac began to join you as well. He looked up to Leonardo as a mentor and often wanted to dig and dive into the man’s brain. He was a genius of his time yet so humble about it.

Isaac would bring his telescope with him and give you an even better view of the stars blinking at you from the wide dark skies. Astrology was also one of his interests and despite being known for always wanting to be alone, the man secretly liked sharing his interests with those who were genuinely fascinated by it.

Soon after, Isaac also became close to you. He felt comfortable around you and just like Leonardo, didn’t mind it when you asked him questions or when he had to explain things to you that could be a little bit difficult to understand. [Leo was also there to translate since he would sometimes use overcomplicated terms]

Isaac was quite fond of you, especially when you would ask Arthur and Dazai to stop teasing him about apples. The physicist obviously told you that he didn’t really need you to stick up for him but he was definitely pleased about it, the hint of a smile touching his thin lips.

If you ever got a panic attack with Leonardo around, he would wrap his arms around you from behind, lacing his fingers with yours and placing your hands over your heart. Whenever you cried, he would be there with you until you cried it all out. Whenever you shook, he would be there to hold you together and find your center of gravity.

He never made you feel restricted, his hold was always loose so you didn’t feel suffocated. He offered you the comfort and the solace you needed without you having to ask him for it and would speak to you so softly, almost crooning, telling you all the words, all the things that you needed to hear, as if he could read your mind. He could tell that you were often very hard on yourself and he was prepared to remind you, time and time again, as many times as needed that… you are and will always be enough, just the way you are.

Towards the end of the month, everyone was suddenly counting down the days until you would leave. Nobody mentioned it but you could definitely feel it in the air, sense it in their gaze. Some of them actually asked you to stay but in the end, it was all up to you. You had already made up your mind but something deep down made you hesitate. Lots of emotions were building up inside of you and yet, you still managed to draw a smile on your face. However, you weren’t really fooling anyone.

The residents had planned a farewell party in your honour, a few days before the door would open again. Comte had arranged for you something to wear on that evening and you were more than flattered at the gesture. The man never missed a single detail and made sure that you always felt welcomed, even when you were leaving. As did Leonardo.

Leonardo came to find you, to escort you to the party only to open the door to your bedroom, his heart clenching hard in his chest at the sight of your tears.

You were crying your eyes out and he couldn’t think of any reason why you would cry. Maybe you were afraid of going back to your time? Going through the door?

He asked you whether there was something that bothered you in the design of the clothes that you were wearing. He noticed you were looking down at yourself, fisting the fabric hard in your hands. That was when you discovered that he designed the apparel just for you, to your exact liking, which made you cry harder.

When you told him that there was no issue with the clothes, they were perfect and beautiful, tailored, stitched and created just for you.

Leo: Cara mia, if it upsets you, you do not have to wear it. I promise, you would look beautiful in anything you wear. You: No, that’s not true. Look at me! How could you even say that? Leo: Lan… I am looking at you, cara mia. I have been looking at you ever since you arrived and you are absolutely and utterly divine.

You: Don’t say that just to flatter me. Please. I don’t need lies.

Leo: If I could give you my eyes so you could see through them, then, I definitely would. Unfortunately, I am not physically capable of doing that but I have something else in mind. You’re coming with me, Lan.

Before you even had the chance to say anything, he took your hand and whisked you away, finding yourself in his room. Letting you sit on his bed, he handed you a notebook and asked you to open it. They were all sketches of you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. You went through them one by one and realized that Leonardo was no liar and he proved it to you. As you looked up at him, he cradled your face in his hands and laid the lightest of kisses on your lips. He didn’t have to say anything. The notebook and that kiss were more than enough to show how much he loved you.

He would also come up with new nicknames for you just because he loved to see you blushy and get flustered (don’t forget all the Italian romance with “mi amore” and “cuore mio” that would literally make you melt with that voice of his). He adored seeing the flush on your cheeks and teased you about wanting to paint them red always, in every single way he can (wink wink).

This man had absolutely no qualms in whispering suggestive notions in your ear whenever you were in public, challenging you and giving you a greater reason to get over with whatever you were doing, so you could relish in the love this man had to offer you.

He is fine with small displays of affection in public, however, not too much of it though. He always holds your hand or had an arm around your shoulders or your waist, keeping you close to him whenever you were out in town. He wouldn’t hesitate to tease you or just simply kiss you whenever he felt like it. However, the different expressions you would make when he would passionately kiss you, the small sighs and whimpers, those were all for him and he didn’t want anyone to hear them or see them.

Whenever he got jealous, you would immediately know it from his eyes and the tone of his voice. He was definitely not the type to let his emotions take over but whenever any other person was being a little too friendly with you, he did not appreciate it. And if you were the one to encourage such behaviour from another, he would have a “discussion” with you about it in the bedroom.

Kisses of affection: he loves to smell your hair and kiss your temple.

NSFW Ahead ~

Your first time, Leonardo would do everything possible to make you as comfortable as possible. How it started? You were cuddling in his room with Lumière and just having a calm night together, just chilling with the candlelight surrounding you as he held you in his arms while you sketched.

He absolutely loves having his hands on you, like almost all the time. He kinda gets clingy like that. You had been at it for a while and the man wanted some attention from his lover so he tickled you, making you laugh your heart and giving him your full attention. He was kinda like a cat, which was actually adorable.

Finding yourself on your back, you were met with his smoldering gaze and he locked your lips in a breathtaking kiss, his hands gliding over your form, making you melt under him. He could feel and see the hesitation in you but he didn’t let it stop him. Why? He knew exactly how to make your worries wither away.

Leo was a vocal lover, not in terms of moaning/groaning (and FYI: he is usually all rough grunts and groans), but in terms of communicating with you when he was intimate with you. He told you every single thing he loved about you, praised you and repeated it, over and over again, etching it into your mind that he saw only you, loved only and wanted/desired nobody but you.

He wanted to know, see and feel all of you so he could show you the depth of his love for you. As he undressed you, he kissed every bit of skin that he would expose, leaving you completely breathless, with unshed tears of happiness burning in your eyes by the time he had you completely naked under him.

He actually had no intentions of taking you that night. He went down on you, making you come multiple times, using those skilled hands of his and that silver tongue (literally and figuratively). It was only when you pleaded to him and told him that you were ready that he gave in, his vampire instincts completely overpowering him, his need to feast on your blood and claim you were the only things he knew, in that moment. He took you slowly and as gently as he could. He could never bear the thought of hurting you.

In the beginning of your intimate relationship, Leonardo was very gentle with you but after a while, he became a little bit more rough with you, but not in a way that was uncomfortable for you. He was experienced enough to know when you were reaching your limit and assessing what you were able to take and what you couldn’t. He is a very attentive lover and is all about making sure you are satisfied before he is. To your dismay, as much as you tried to put him first, he valued your pleasure more than his.

He always made sure that you were thoroughly made loved to/fucked, a physical and emotional reminder that you were his and he wouldn’t think of any other.

What he absolutely loves doing to you: Light bondage. Just tying you up and maybe blindfolding you (only if you were comfortable), heightening your senses. He likes to make you a complete and utter mess, making you unable to talk and after a while, unable to even walk. He’ll have you forget everything in the world and remember only his name.

He talks dirty and it is completely filthy, it has you whimpered and flustered and he just lives to see you like that. He doesn’t play fair and he doesn’t play on doing it anytime soon. Your pleasure is his reward and he’ll tease you by saying that he’s a masochist, and he likes to draw out his own pleasure, and your pleasure is his. (believe me, it’s all worth it in the end)

Places he loved drinking blood from: your neck (especially when he’s making love to you).

Favourite positions: any position that you are most comfortable in. However, he loves seeing you a complete whimpering mess under him. That’s the most beautiful sight to him.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #matchup #ikemen vampire leo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen series #ikevamp smut #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp matchup #ikemen matchup

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judylicious · 4 years ago

Text

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,445

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing, racist remarks !!! (they do NOT reflect my own opinion)

Chapter V

When the trumpet player noticed Charlotte he was speechless with amazement. “Alan?” “Charlotte?” They almost said simultaneously. They both stared into each others faces until both had a smile on their lips. “Wait- Frank Ellington is your father?” “You know him?”, the young woman chuckled. He’s rather present in the newspaper.” And before Charlotte could ask him about his job at the restaurant, they felt the gaze of Charlotte’s family. The were too far away to hear or probably didn’t even notice the two had a chat. They were waiting for Alan to show them to their table. The maître d reacted quickly and did what the guests expected him to do. The handsome man handed the family the menu and couldn’t help himself but steal a few glances from Charlotte, who only managed to smile back sheepishly. She had been so angry the other night, seeing that woman in his lap but as soon as he smiled at her she would forget everything around her again every time.

A few minutes later everyone of the waiters still seemed busy so Alan grasped the opportunity to be near Charlotte and took their orders. Mr. Ellington ordered a bottle of the finest champagne for the family’s celebration and a martini for himself as well. “Dad, do you think this is wise?”, Charlotte asked in a low tone. “Do you think it’s wise to order dessert?”, he said in a strict tone, looking down at her. “Why don’t we let the lady order what she likes, Sir.”, Alan said with a fake smile but Charlotte’s father didn’t spend any attention to his remark. She wanted to cry, that was how embarrassed she felt. Not only that Alan heard the snark about her weight but also that he stood up for her made her feel even worse.

After Alan had left the table the head of the family grabbed his daughter’s arm with a strong grip, pulling her a few inches towards him. “Don’t you embarrass me like this ever again.” He hissed, tightening his grip on her. “Sorry.” “What was that?!” “I’m sorry, father.”, Charlotte repeated a bit louder. Alan turned his back witnessing the situation and wanted to intervene but he also didn’t like to make a scene.

The family enjoyed their first course quietly until they were served the main course. “This Bouillabaisse is a disaster.”, Charlotte’s father nagged, almost spitting it out, flushing away the “horrible” taste by chugging his fourth martini. He looked around to find a waiter and spotted Alan a few tables a way, checking if everything was in order. “Waiter? Sir? Please?” Alan quickly walked over to the family. “Yes, Sir, how are your salads?” “The salads are fine. It’s just that, well this Bouillabaisse, it’s a culinary Hindenburg.” “I’m sincerely sorry, Sir, what seems to be wrong with it?” “The fish is utterly dry, the chilli note is way too strong and frankly I think your chef omitted the saffron.” “Dad, I can see the saffron from over here and I’m sure the fish’s just fine.”, Charlotte rolled her eyes and was about to pick up some of the fish on her father’s plate with her fork but he slashed at her hand. “May I bring you a freshly made one, Sir, or anything else?” “No, I don’t think so.” “How about a drink of your choice to come on the house, Sir?” “Just take this crap away from me, will you!”, he said furiously and handed Alan the plate forceful but rammed it into the maître d, the whole dish spilling on his shirt and suit coat. “Dad what you’re doing?”, Charlotte exclaimed embarrassed. “It’s not my fault this man doesn’t know how to do his bloody job!” “Frank, stop swearing!” But Sylvia turned silent as soon as her husband shot her an angry look. “It’s fine, Sir. Those things happen.” “Of course these things happen to YOU. Don’t even see why you’ve been appointed head waiter.” “DAD!” “No, seriously look at this clown. Trying to hide he’s born in the jewish gutter by working in an upper class restaurant.” Alan swallowed and Charlotte couldn’t even look at him. She felt deeply ashamed of her father’s behaviour. She just sat there, starring apathetically into her lap, praying this would end as soon as possible. “Sir, I will see what I can do about your Bouillabaisse.”, he gave Frank a polite nod and headed with the plate to the kitchen. “Will you excuse me.”, Charlotte said getting up from her chair. “Where do you think you’re you going?!”, her father clutching at her arm again tightly. “I have to powder my nose!”, she said perky and freed herself from her father.

On her way Charlotte past the men’s room and saw Alan inside, standing in front of the mirror, frustrated, rubbing a tissue on his shirt. She assured herself no one saw her when she took a step inside and Alan saw her reflection in the mirror. “I’m awfully sorry for all that. My dad, he’s…” “A very pleasant man.”, Alan chuckled. “Sometimes he is. But as soon as the alcohol gets to him…” “This ain’t your fault.” She smiled in response. “Wait, let me help you with this.”, she said in a soft tone and took one of the cotton towels, soaked it with warm water and carefully dabbed the stain. Both kept quiet for a while as she was taking care of his shirt. She could feel his breath against her skin and it was only now when she realised how close he was. She slowly moved her glance from the stain on his shirt to his beautiful and soothing eyes, which were staring intensely into hers. She could look into them forever, sink into them for the rest of her life. He was about to say something, when his lips moved and caught Charlotte’s eye. They were slightly apart, which enhanced the shape of his luscious lips. In one hand the towel, the other lying on his strong chest, she felt how his hands wandered to her lower back. Both their breathes became more intense, Charlotte felt her chest tightened up and her heart pounding like mad. Alan slowly bringing his face closer to hers, when suddenly a man entered the rest room and Alan and Charlotte instantly lost hold of one another. The man cleared his throat. “I believe this to be the men’s room.” “Sorry.”, Charlotte mumbled embarrassed and left the room, Alan followed her. “I should probably change into a new shirt. I’ll catch you later.” “Alan?”, she grabbed his arm. “The other night when I ran away.”, Charlotte started but Alan interrupted her. “That woman, she was completely drunk, she cringed to me like limpet as soon as we walked in. Jake and the bartender helped to get her off of me and we called a taxi to take her home.” “I’m so sorry I left. I- I don’t have any right, I mean I’m overcautious when it comes to men I like, surrounded by other woman and-“ “Sophia and Lisa told me about your ex.” “But still I don’t have any right to be jealous nor tell you with whom you should surround yourself. We didn’t even went on a date and I totally overreacted-“ “Let’s change that!” “Me overreacting?” “No.”, he scoffed. “Us not being on a date yet. Well, and perhaps we can also change the other thing.”, he grinned sarcastically. “Charlotte Ellington, would you do me the honour to take you out?” “You’re out of your mind.”, she laughed. “It would be my pleasure.”, she replied, trying to talk in posh way. “How about dinner Friday night?” “Sounds lovely.” “Great, I pick you up at 8.” He smiled at her, causing her almost to digress again. “I better go or my parents think I’ve fallen into the loo.”, she joked and got back to her table.

Her sudden change of mood didn’t stay unnoticed by her family. “What are you so chipper about?” “Me? Nothing, got my period.” She knocked on the table. “Not pregnant.” Causing her sister to almost spit out her water laughing. “Yes, very amusing you, two.”, Sylvia shook her head at the girls and before Frank had a chance to raise his voice she laid her hand on his arm. “Why don’t we all get a grip on ourself and try to enjoy what’s left of this evening, shall we?” And it worked surprisingly well, since no one actually talked much and Alan gave their table a wide berth, of course not without eyeing up Charlotte and exchanging a few looks and smiles with her.

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

#blues brothers fanfiction #blues brothers #blues brothers fandom #Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Alan Rubin x Reader #Alan Rubin #Mr.Fabulous

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genderfluidlucifer · 4 years ago

Text

Response to being asked to give an opinion on Connie’s calout by residentevil-4

(Tw: CSAM, rape fic, incest fic, predatory behavior, racism, ableism, kink mention, nsfw mentions. Minors should probably dni.)

“Connie and I know each other irl and went to school together for 3 years, although they now live in a different state and have cut contact with me. We went to a private therapy school in Manhattan as we're both disabled and were deemed unable to attend public school. Even though we were pretty close, Connie didn't like having photos taken of them, so I don't have any selfies of the two of us; however, these are from our sophomore and senior yearbooks which at least confirms that we were in the same year at school. People who have seen Connie's selfies should be able to confirm that that is what they look like. First and foremost, Connie is not TMA. They are intersex and the two of us have discussed intersex issues both in person and online, but they are still decidedly CAFAB.” Ok so first off, I want to address this part of the callout. To be honest...was it really necessary to literally doxx Connie ehre? Because this textbook definition of doxxing. Yes Connie’s done some shitty things but I freally don’t think that what they’ve done warrants this level of doxxing. Or...even better, any doxxing. This feels like a really unnecessary breach of privacy, revealing sensitive information on Connie’s childhood that they choose to confide in you with. I really don’t agree with this aspect of the callout as it feels very invasive and bordering on stalkerish. Btw when I say bordering on stalkerish I’m not directly calling you a stalker Bonnie. Just so we’re clear. I am not defending Connie supposedly faking being TMA. Because faking being TMA is a very serious issue. HOWEVER since I don’t know Connie irl and to be quite frank it’s none of my business what the nature of their agab is. Were not close and I’m certainly not going to like lead Connie onto thinking we’re friends just to confirm this with them because that would be creepy. So to be honest I’m going to take this part of the callout with again of salt for now.

[ID: A cropped screenshot of a numbered list Connie posted to their blog hadrosaurs in response to an ask.

“3. I’m TMA And that’s completely irrelevant. I’m not accusing them because of their gender I didn’t even know their gender when they said that to me saying that they said that because they fucking said that and the reaction to it was incredibly alarming. Don’t fucking say that stuff to people.]

I mean I”m not a trans woman so take this with a grain of salt if you want but...I don’t see how this is really proof of Connie being deliberately transmisogynistic? Yes Connie gives iffy retellings of mistakes they’ve made in the past. I’ve seen that on their blog before and I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen. BUT here they sound genuine enough and to be honest a growing issue I’ve seen with callouts as of late is. A person confirms they in fact did not do the thing they were called out for. And then the people who make the callout choose to see it as proof of incriminating behavior anyways. To be honest it’s a big problem and it’s also incredibly unfair to the person being called out. If you’re so determined at that point to see the person as bigoted no matter what they say then of course anything they say can be seen as proof. So I’m going to have to pass on this bit of evidence. “Connie responded: “Final note: I have spoken extensively with several trans women about using TMA to describe myself. I will not be getting into discourse about that on this blog again. All that leads to is people demanding my medical records and calling me slurs. If you wanna have a thoughtful conversation about it direct message me cause it’s not happening again here.” Again this really doesn’t seem all that self incriminating. Connie mentions here that they’ve talked to rl trans woman about whether or not they can be considered TMA. Connie really doesn’t have to disclose that personal information to people for any reason. Yes even when people are e including this ask response in a callout. And considering lots of people DO get invasive about Connie’s medical history ans general personal life over matters like this? I feel their reaction is pretty understandable here. “Connie has constantly compared “exclusionists” (or anyone, really) to TERFs, even when the people in question are not transmisogynistic, trans exclusionary radfems, or are even transmisogyny affected themselves.

“ Gonna have to disagree with this part of the callout too. Lots of ace inclus blogs, even some run by trans women , have proven that the ace exclus movement was started by swerfs/terfs. But the blog that has the most evidence for this is courteousmingler on tumblr. I suggest you check out that blog’s archiving of the history of ace exclus rhetoric before rushing to call me a transmisogynist for disagreeing with this part of the callout. I looked through all of the evidence for Connie being racist and tbh as a black ndn it all feels incredibly flimsy. It’d be one thing if Connie was using their experiences to derail and invalidate the discussions about how black people are oppressed But they weren’t doing that there at all. This part of the post feels incredibly biased. And like OP is looking for things to be mad about. Going to have to pass on this list of evidence. Also uh I seem to recall that residentevil04 got called out for some questionable behavior as well. “Both me (insepsy, hi) and ezrat have had really weird spikes in activity on our Statcounters, both on the same day. (Saturday, 4/17/21) For both of us, majority of the pages looked at by these visitors have been related to or about Connie, or have been posts that Connie would find "problematic" such as the f slur untagged or something related to "panphobia"/aphobia. I’m sorry but...none of the proof of cyberstalking holds any water. Visiting someone’s blogs and rbing posts to disagree with them is not cyberstalking. Keeping tabs on urls that an abusive person who has harassed are using so you can block them (in this case with kyoshi) and warn your mutuals is not stalking. As a victim of rl stalking it’s...really weird to call this legit stalking at all. Much less claim that you have damning proof of it being stalking when no such evidence exists in the callout. Besides after Connie and nonbinarydave called out one of kyoshi’s buddies for sending a death threat hate anon to nonbinarydave’s toddler st4lker partly admitted to doing it a few times. Then other mutuals in kyoshi’s toxic social circle clearly began joining in. Making side accounts where they tried to spin a false narrative of nonbinarydave’s daughter being one of their alters (ableist as hell.) And also trying to do it in such a way that they thought would trigger nonibnarydave’s psychosis (also ableist as hell.) If you’re going to drag Connie for their mistakes and never let them move on from those mistakes then it’s only fair to do that to people you agree with who also do toxic/bigoted things. ALso the fact that your wording here suggests that you think panphobia and aphobia aren’t real makes me doubt this claim even more. Exclus and their allies are notorious for mislabeling inclus disagreeing with them as stalking. “connie said that they would release that info at a later time and the minor began to argue with them that they had a responsibility regardless of their complicated relationship with age. in this argument connie for a time kept their age ambiguous and at one point told the minor (who confirmed in a later ask that they were severely traumatized by adults) that they obviously weren’t traumatized. connie quickly deleted this ask and any mentions of it and the next post they reblogged was about how wrong it was to try and quantify or discount others’ trauma. on my old blog i @ed them in the replies and asked if they had just done that. connie admitted to it and said it was fucked up but quickly blocked + deleted my comment. i can’t remember whether or not connie apologized to the minor, they may have? but yeah. i thought that was pretty weird.”] I do agree with some of the concern here that adults shouldn’t over expose minors in discourse. I’ve been contemplating this for awhile myself. And trying to figure out how to take better steps to avoid including minors who are triggered by discourse in discourse, especially. HOWEVER I have one little issue with this addition to the callout. If that is the case then exclus and their allies need to practice this as well. You cannot ignore the fact that the reason a lot of minors are getting involved in exclus discourse is due to adult exclus and their allies forcing minors to pick a side in the discourse. Y’all are not at all exempt from this problem. I still remember an ex mutual of mine trying to convince a minor to agree that aces can’t face corrective rape. And based on how aggressive it got with me when I tried to avoid giving an opinion on the matter, I can’t imagine that it would’ve reacted better to the minor refusing to give an opinion or to the minor outright disagreed. Refusing to put these standards on exclus and their allies is both hypocritical and quite frankly very transparent. The claims about them glorifying dark topics on AO3 through their fics also seems unfortunately legit. I mean those asks of shaming people who ask their viewers to not romanticize or glorify abusive relationships in their works is very damning. I’m very disappointed to see that Connie has taken being an inclus to the point of validating antis anti culture wholeheartedly. I can’t think of much more to add to my opinion on that part of the callout. As for the issue of Connie interacting with pro shippers in the past, I do know that this claim is legit. I’ve seen it before and so has Breeze. This was why for a brief time we decided to stop following their blogs. Because it was triggering to have pro shippers put on our dash. And sometimes we just don’t feel it’s worth it to always let people we’re platforming know they’re rbing triggering stuff. So sometimes we just quietly unfollow and choose to not interact until we’re sure they’re filtering what they do and don’t rb in some way. I definitely don’t agree with that behavior. And if they’re still doing that I”ll deplatform again. “The anon asks: “A weird question but do you know any other stimboard blogs with your follow criteria? (No radfems, racists, fandom antis, etc.) I was hoping to find more through your “similar blogs” but a lot have no anti-antis for their DNI or allow truscum/transmeds and exclus. :(“

The user responds: “I know of @turtle-pond-stims, @outofangband, and @kinaesthetics! 🍂🍄" “[ID: A cropped screenshot of an ask sent by Connie from their now-deactivated blog, butch-with-a-tortoise.

Connie says: “hey anon I have safe stim blogs. dm me if you want them. And radfems/bigots aren’t allowed to interact. For my own safety (because the community is honestly terrifying) I can’t publicly say on my blogs that I’m safe for proshippers/kinky people but I try to spread word how I can.”] [ID: Screenshot of a post by evilwriter37, which reads, “I’ve been seeing posts about fandom police leaving ao3, and it’s like: Good. We don’t want you here anyway. Go find your own fanfiction site.”

The post is tagged “#Fandom #AO3 #Antis #Purity Culture” and has 87 notes. It was posted on December 21st, 2020.

There is a reply from main-to-outofangband-andothers saying: “there are Silm antis on that site who are against Russigon (Maedhros and Fingon) not because they’re cousins but because they’re both male (coded)”] [ID: A screenshot of an anonymous (though signed off as being from outofangband) ask sent to evilwriter37, which says, “Melkor and Viggo solidarity is ‘Look there’s nothing wrong with keeping my enemy chained up in my personal chambers at all times so please just focus on the war efforts and I’ll focus on the boy* in my chambers’ -@outofbangand.

*boy used figuratively @ antis”

The user responds: “Pfft!!! Hahaha! You’re absolutely right! (And Viggo does refer to Hiccup in canon as ‘my boy’).”] I can’t really say anything to refute this. Because these are all posts of Connie outright stating that they disagree with antis. And not only sympathize with anti antis but are fully against antis. Looks like very damning evidence. Although ngl I’m not entirely against kinky blogs as a whole? Just so long as they truly stay in their lane with their kink content. And don’t force it on others in any way. Or shame people who are triggered by their kinks. It is true that being entirely against kinky blogs no matter what is dipping your toes into swerf rhetoric. Tbh I’m not going to look at the rest. This is pretty much all I need to make a decision on whether or not I”ll continue platforming Connie. Though I will try to get some more perspective from people who I interact with as well. Because I feel better about making a more definitive decision after doing that. Also in general please don’t not try to get an opinion from me on how I feel about syscourse. A lot of the claims about Connie’s age weirdness and them using their alters as a shield feel like syscourse to me. Especially if this callout was written by one or several singlets. Singlets should never be trying to judge how legit someone’s system is ever. Even if their system friends encourage them to. You can call out a horrible person with a system without trying to insinuate that they’re lying about their alters in some way. Doing otherwise is ableist ESPECIALLY if you’re a singlet. Also in general the reason I stay out of discussions of judging how someone is handling their systems is because it’s syscourse and syscourse is triggering for my system and I. If this post was an attempt to get me to give an opinion on the validity of Connie’s system I don’t appreciate it. And I would appreciate not being dragged into such matters again, thank you.

In general there’s like a few parts of this callout that feel legit. Which is unfortunately cluttered with obvious bias and obsessive hatred of Connie. I’m not here to stan or coddle Connie. I know they are not a perfect person. Especially since no human being in the world is perfect. But I feel the way this callout was created was very sloppy since a lot of the evidence was messy at best. And some points were very hypocritical as well as there being some no true scotsman moments from OP. In acting like exclus never do any of the thing that they tried to call out Connie for. Which is behavior that I am not a fan of. This is why people need to be more careful about callouts and like make roughdrafts and have a more unbiased person helping them if they don’t feel they can do it on their own. I’m even trying to make a resolve to do better at that myself. So it’s not like I’m unwilling to put my money where my mouth is. Anyways those are all my thoughts on this messy callout. And tbh I’m not going to get too much more heavily involved in this. Because I need to focus on more immediately serious rl stuff more often, like doing what I can to get out of the hellish landscape of a house I currently am stuck in.

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redbeanboi · 5 years ago

Text

Scacchi

Rating: M (nothing particularly crazy, but it’s still related to BBP)

Characters: OC’s: Giuseppe Giovanna, Vittorio Pesca, plus a few extras. Mentioned: Don Giorno Giovanna/Reader, Fugo, Narancia, Mista.

Summary: Giuseppe learns how to play the game.

Alternatively: Pesca doesn’t approve of sheltering who he considers to be the “heir” to Giorno’s empire and takes matters into his own hands.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: One of several Giuseppe-related OCtober writings that I’ll be sharing in the next few weeks. This takes place about 15-16 years after BBP, so Giuseppe is a teenager and it would basically be taking place around his “part” (as some of you have come to call it :-D ). For context: Giorno and the Signora have discovered that against their wishes, their son has managed to secretly join Passione (more on that in another snippet, and know that Giuseppe’s “uncle’s” aren’t any more pleased). Unfortunately they all have to deal with some other mess happening in the city, and the only relative around to spend time with Giuseppe is Pesca, who I have yet to fully introduce in BBP. I hope you’ll enjoy this interaction between them!

some translation notes;

trisoru (’tesoro’ in Siciliano), Matri/Patri and Matre/Patre (mother and father, in Siciliano and Napulitano, respectively), Se (yes, Siciliano), La Famigghia (the family, Siciliano), prozio (great-uncle in Italiano: referring to Don Arnaldo from BBP).

One of the soldati entered the room, Giuseppe in tow. “I hope your trip was pleasant, Signore Pesca. Things are a bit… disorderly here at the moment,” he added, casting a wary, sideways glance at his charge.

Giuseppe’s greeting was less effusive. Passione’s princeling was in a sullen mood, furious that he had been ordered to stay home while his father and trusted men sought out the current threat. “You need to stay home, where it’s safe, trisoru,” you had insisted. “These are unsettling times.”

None of this satisfied Giuseppe, Pesca noted. Perfect on many accounts, but still a child for all that, still inexperienced in the ways of this world. “Giuseppe,” he called. His nephew looked over sure enough. “Seeing that we’re stuck here together, perhaps you’ll be a dear nephew and entertain me to a thrilling game of scacchi? For old time’s sake.”

Giuseppe fixed him with a wary stare. “Chess? My homework sounds much more interesting.”

“Not interesting to you? I suppose it’s only natural when you’ve never beat me. Do continue with your studies.” Pesca raised his book, smirking in safety behind the pages.

His comments pricked Giuseppe’s pride, just as he expected. “Very well then, Uncle. Fetch the board and pieces—this time I mean to actually beat you.”

They set the chessboard on a wooden table in the center of the room, a handsome piece of furniture that was undoubtedly carved and toiled over by some craftsman in the city. Pesca knew his cousin-in-law liked to patron the local artisans. Giuseppe had already moved his first piece on the board—’Grob’s Attack,’ Pesca thought with amusement. Most would consider it a mark of daring youth, a move that was as bold as it was foolish. Willing to risk it all for the quick kill. Giuseppe’s bodyguard Affogato sat in a chair beside his charge, watching as they played.

Pesca responded in kind, setting his Queen’s pawn two spaces forward. Later, when all the pieces had cleared the way and Giuseppe reached for the Queen’s Bishop, Pesca hummed and shook his head. His nephew paused and quirked a brow at him. “This is an interesting opening, dear nephew, but I wouldn’t do it in the future.” He offered Giuseppe his most disarming smile. “You’re just as bold as your Matri and Patri.”

“So I’ve been told,” Giuseppe returned warily. “...My mother says that you let her drive your car when she was twelve.”

“She’s a very good driver. She’s good at plenty of things, actually. A clever woman. Do you heed her advice?”

The boy pushed a tuft of dark blue hair away from his eyes. Pesca noticed that the dye had yet to fully wash out. “Of course I do. She’s my mother.”

“And yet we find you here, already a fully initiated member of your Patri’s gang.” Pesca blinked at the board before moving his knight. “If I remember correctly, your beloved parents had every intention of shutting you out from either organization. Were they heartbroken when they found out?”

Giuseppe flushed. “I’ve told you already, it was the right thing to do. I can help them.”

“Se,” Pesca returned in his rough Siciliano. “And in doing the right thing, you’ve also uncovered a new plot to dispose of them. It’ll make for an interesting family story in the future, and I’m sure your children will love to hear of how you managed to save us all… assuming your Matri and Patri ever let you set foot outside of this house any time soon.”

“They will. They have to.”

“Must they?” Pesca asked with a tsk and a scandalous tone. “I would be careful with that. Don’s and Signora’s do not like receiving orders, least of all from children. Your Matri is a Signora, a principessa of one of the oldest criminal organizations in this world; she knows a great deal more about these sorts of things than you do. Your Patri, on the other hand? Why, he’s the Boss of all Bosses, made himself a conqueror at the age of fifteen. They love you dearly and clearly gave the world to you, but I don’t think you’ll find them very willing.”

“They will be willing,” Giuseppe insisted, clearly shocked by this information. It was clear to Pesca that Giuseppe had never considered the possibility that his parents might lock him away for his safety and refuse him. “You don’t know them as I do.” Giuseppe took his knight and leapt over the pawns, letting the piece land on the board with a harsh thud.

Pesca shrugged at that. “Perhaps I’m still a stranger to the sacred love between parent and child, but I know what they are like. I know your Matri most of all. I know that she stole cars and sold them, that she impressed Don Vittorio Andolini with her thievery. She’s known danger from a young age, knows what it is like to run, to be hunted, to never be safe. I know that she is fierce. How else would Cosa Nostra bend so easily to her? The ‘Ndrangheta are half hers, considering her family ties to Don Arnaldo. She grieved for her father and schemed to protect you and your ridiculous Patri years ago—all when she was matched with a troublesome opponent. She’s not officially initiated in any gang, yet your Patri relies on her to no end. How do you suppose a woman like this will react when you come to her with a pleading child’s eyes and say, ‘Buongiorno Mamma, I have grown up now and would like to be recognized as a member of La Famigghia.’”

Giuseppe gave him a cold and hard stare. He looks so much like his father. “I am not going to plead to my Matre like a child. I am a young adult, with reasonable requests. I actually accomplished a decent amount of work before you discovered me and alerted them.”

“To be frank? You have too many requests, and as well as you did your job you can easily be replaced,” Pesca corrected. Good, that’s made him angry. It almost reminded Pesca of the times he teased you for having similar ambitions. This boy looks like Giorno but he acts more like his mother. “Don Giorno has plenty of soldati, and last I checked none of them add this much stress on those slender shoulders of his.”

“Think whatever you like, Zietto Vito,” said Giuseppe. “I can still prove myself to them. Signore Fugo said that if I wait, they will see that I’m not a child anymore and can listen like a respectful adult.”

“And you believe that? Goodness. Trust no one, dear boy. Not your strange padrino who wears that ridiculous suit, nor your false uncles or cousins or brothers. Above all, don’t hold to every word your parents say to you—they’re liars like the rest of us. And perhaps this wariness will dampen your gatherings or keep you awake for much longer than you’d like to be at night, but I’m sure it’s better than the never ending sleep that awaits us all.” He sighed and moved his Queen. “I am only your uncle though, only your mother’s lawyer. What could I possibly know that your padrino doesn’t? Still I’ll insist. If you really aren’t a child, you should know that one must make their own way in the world. I wouldn’t do as Signore Fugo says.”

“... What would you do then?” his nephew asked, leaning forward with interest.

“If I were in your position, I would simply sneak away from this city. Go south. These threats come from the Sacra Corona Unita in Puglia, and neither of your father’s forces from Campagna have enough men to deal with an organization from the east. I’d go to Sicilia first, rally the other factions of Cosa Nostra, and meet with your prozio in Calabria. You can start making moves once you’ve got the forces—”

“I have none.”

“You have a famous name and enough resources to tempt the men associated with Cosa Nostra... And even if you don’t, you’re a smart boy, you’ll figure out some way to procure funding.” Pesca flew a Bishop two spaces over. “You’ll need plenty of them, if you want enough men to overwhelm and absorb this new organization.”

“I still would need Patre’s help,” Giuseppe said. “I can’t make any actual moves without his approval. He’s—”

“You don’t need to make any moves, not right away. All you need to do is gather enough support for your Patri. He’ll join you at once.”

Giuseppe frowned. “You said Patri doesn’t intend to let me work with him. I’m still a child to him. He doesn’t entirely respect me the way he does any of his trusted men...”

Pesca shook his head. “A poor choice of words on my part. Ask Don Giorno, your father, for permission, and he’ll treat you like a child. Do you want to act on your father’s whims for the rest of your life? Now… if you left and bolstered his cause down south, in Sicilia? The men of Cosa Nostra only follow the strong, and that is what you’ll be if you can soothe out the wrinkles that stayed after your first birthday. That would prove you are your own man. Bold, reckless, a perfect followup to the infamous Don Giorno. Another conqueror.

“Your Patri has suffered many losses in his youth. You might have noticed he’s grown an attachment to your Matri. If he finds that you’ve taken up his cause and put yourself in a vulnerable position, ordering around the men of Cosa Nostra—no doubt directing attention to yourself—and gone on the offensive, he’ll come and join you. When he meets with you, he will find a fierce and bold youth waiting for him. Not his son, but an equal. How can he help but name you his Underboss and heir then?” Smiling, Pesca took his Queen and ate Giuseppe’s King. “I hope you’ll still harbor some affection for me. And know that you impressed me by managing to last this long, even with an underdeveloped Bishop and godawful castling.”

Giuseppe stared at the board in disbelief. “My Queen–”

“You put her in a tight spot several moves ago. Do you not remember? My Knight took her.”

“What you said earlier... about my first move—”

“Ah! Remember what I said? Trust no one. Though I definitely recommend using a different opening next time. If you’re going to listen to anything I say, at least remember never to start with “g4” ever again.”

Giuseppe jerked back, gaping at the table and then at his uncle. Not ten seconds had passed before he frowned and shoved the board away, hard enough that a white knight and pawn flew across the room. One of the butlers grumbled as he shuffled around the carpet to return them.

“Giving up so soon?” Pesca asked, taking the pieces and setting them up once again.

He half expected the boy to saunter off, especially with the way he’d lectured and poked at him, but to Pesca’s surprise, Giuseppe leaned forward and shook his head.

“No.”

“I won’t be going easy on you,” he warned, “but I promise you’ll have much to learn if you decide to continue.”

Giuseppe nodded. “Teach me then.”

A/N:

Ah ! That’s teenaged Giuseppe for you. Very different from his parents, I think, but I love him all the same. He has much to learn. This is generally untouched from when I first wrote it, so I hope you enjoyed it in all its rough, out-of-context, first-draft-ish glory!

Honestly surprised myself with how much I ended up writing, but I was mostly just following these two; the way they bounce off each other made it easy to let the words go onto the page.

If you wanted to see what the board looked like towards the end of the game, here’s a bit of a visual:

Lots of ways that this could go wrong for Giuseppe’s pieces... I stand by Pesca’s advice though. If you start on white, avoid opening with the infamous “g4.”

#fun fact !!!#i used to play chess with my uncle and i'm actually very much like giuseppe so this was a fun way to revisit that #anyway i love giuseppe he's a little brat and he's got a quick temper and a quicker tongue and he still has much to learn #ocs #giuseppe giovanna #vittorio pesca #sidenote #i love writing these two together as WELL as the signora and pesca #they all just kinda come for each other's throats #but like... in a polite way #also yes giuseppe dyed his hair blue but that'll be explained in a different snippet #belated but uhhhh #oc.tober #previews

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