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hannie-dul-set · 9 months

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CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!”

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?”

“how should i know? i’m not them?”

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?”

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!”

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze.

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?”

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet.

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

#i like him a normal amount #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen scenarios #enha secnarios #park sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon scenarios

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galazry · 7 months

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Look at Me!

pairing: best friend!scaramouche x gn!reader genre: modern au, friends to lovers(?), is this angst? idk tbh content: Again and again, you, being the hopeless romantic that you are, yapped about this new crush of yours. When is it going to be his turn? word count: 812 a/n: inspired by the song "From The Start" by Laufey. is it also based on a brainrot? you bet it is! i also want to apologize that most of my brainrots are in indonesian but hey, at least the drabble is in english.

"Them? You've got to be kidding me."

You were talking about your new crush to Scaramouche, your best friend. It's the same old formula every time; You see someone attractive or said person does something nice for you, you get a crush on them, and then you tell Scaramouche all about said person. Truth be told, he was actually getting tired of this same old gig. Every time you yapped about some new "soulmate" of yours, he is reminded painfully that the feeling he harbored for you was unrequited.

"Can't that thick skull of yours see? They are only doing that just because they are a decent person."

"Come on, Scara! I really think I have a chance with this new 'soulmate' of mine!"

Soulmate. What a laugh.

As you go on and on about how the person you currently have a crush on was so perfect for you, he can't help but to let his mind wander. How he wished that the day would come where you run up to him and confess that you actually have been harboring feelings for him as well; that all these crushes you have were just mere distractions since you were confused about your feelings for him. Another wish of his was for you to finally realize that he has a crush on you, and that the feeling was mutual. Of course, those were all just silly little thoughts in his head.

How much longer do you need to finally notice he has feelings for you? For now, he'll just have to listen to you gush about your current supposed soulmate.

It's taking a tedious amount of time for you to realize that he has feelings for you. How long has it been? Scaramouche has lost track but he's sure that almost 2 years have passed. Hell, at this point, he thinks that both of your peers have noticed how he always looked at you differently.

All, except you.

Scaramouche was getting impatient. It was ridiculous. He had done everything to give signs that he was in love with you, so why haven't you noticed yet?! Even a kindergarten would notice all these hints he had given for you. After weeks of you yapping about ANOTHER new crush of yours, he can no longer contain the feelings in his chest.

"And then our eyes meet and-"

"[Y/N]."

"Hm?"

"Stop it."

You blinked a few times at your best friend. He looked annoyed. Well, more annoyed than usual as there was a thin line on his forehead. "What do you mean-" before you could get your sentence out, Scaramouche gripped your wrist and pulled you closer towards him.

"I've had it with you and your crushes. Can't you give me a glance for once?! I'm right here! Why can't you have feelings for me?!"

"S-Scara...? What do you...?"

Your eyes widen and Scaramouche immediately regrets what he had just did. He lets go of your wrist before looking away. Even if he tries to hide it, you could definitely see that his cheeks were gaining colour. His mouth felt dry as he cursed himself for suddenly lashing out at you, but since the cat's out of the bag...

"I like you alright?! From the start and for the longest time, I have always had feelings for you! I've tried every thing for you to notice me! Everything!"

Scaramouche rambled on and on about his feelings for you as you sit there in silence staring at him with wide eyes. He begins explaining all the things he had done just to get your attention— He makes sure that his notes were always tidy so you could read them, he always packs an extra set of lunch since he knows you sometimes forget to pack yours, he always carries around bandages since you were known to be clumsy— those were just the three out of the many things he had done just for you to either realize his feelings for you, or for you to fall in love with him. Yet, it seemed like all his efforts were for naught.

Finally, after a solid five minutes, he had gotten everything out of his chest. You were still speechless by the time he had finished, trying to process everything your best friend had said. He opened his mouth to say anything, anything at all, but no words came out of it. Fearing words of rejection from you, or even causing a rift in your long-standing friendship, he decides to leave before you could even utter a single word.

That wasn't how it was suppose to go... Now Scaramouche was sure that his feelings for you were never going to be requited. For some odd reason, even though it was a sunny day, he could feel something wet streaming down his cheeks.

"Stupid... You should have kept your mouth shut..."

#gala writes #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #HELP IDK IF THIS IS ANGST OR NOT??? SOMEONE HELP #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #kabukimono #kabukimono x y/n #kabukimono x you #kabukimono x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n

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the-main-idiot · 16 days

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my chnt swap AU will now be called

camp this and that

idea originally provided by @fall3nash2339

all info about characters+ art links under cut😋😋!!

(NEWWER DESIGNS WILL COME SOON, ALL OF THESE ARE FROM A SLIGHTLY OUTDATED STYLE)

all the characters have the same physical appearance (except for sydney), personalities and roles are changed

the nurses~

head nurse: Elijah Volkov, he makes all the announcements, and is mentally decaying. Boy oh boy, is he quite the man. Silly little bpd man, collected mental illness like Pokémon. But he's caring, and will do just about anything in his power to help the campers out when needed. He has a knack for elephants, likes sharing fun facts, not only about elephants but anything and everything. No filter😋 if he's thinking it, he'll say it, obviously nothing bad will come of that. Trust issues, yummy.

assistant nurse: Adam Uptin, always carrying snacks with him, he can get you to share how your parents wronged you then shove a bag of skittles in your hand and walk away. Adam isn't a fan of leaving the nurses cabin, let alone his side office, something about being a vampire and ""ahhhh the suns"",,etc etc. Although, you can lore him outside with some sunscreen, an umbrella, and an apple.

camp counselors (all camps stay the same)

Cabin Dung Beetle: Juniper Sloan. long neck, dirty blonde. British man, he's scared of the water (blah blah blah "i'm experiencing the past, present, and future all at once and i can't breathe." yadda yadda yadda) besides the meltdowns and break downs, he's pretty silly

Cabin Grasshopper : Marisol Yuchengco, 👁️dresses in gothic attire, but she's one of the most understating counselors you'll ever meet. Salem de La Marnierre, 👁️scene kid vibes, lowkey really chill though. The two are dating<3 (basically just the same as chnt, just,,, ya'know,, swapped.)

Cabin Magpie Moth: Rowan Chow, the goofiest mother fucker in the entire camp. He can actually produce sound effects, he doesnt choose them or when they happen, that's up to the universe, they just come from his general area. This man runs off of actual cartoon logic, dont question it.<3

Cabin Silkworm: Yvonne Marley, femcel. That is truly all i have to say about her. She pull's misinformation straight from the internet and spreads it like mold on moist bread. Joshua MacHeath, tictok eboy, he can make a killer flower necklace though. Joshua will sit with the kids who can't/won't participate in certain camp activities and teach them how to make bracelets out of, well, anything and everything!

Cabin Tarantula Hawk: Lucille Bertuccelli,👁️ she's an older counselor, a sweetheart though. Not only does she keep cabin tarantula hawk up am running, but she also is in charge of the arts and crafts cabin! Gracie Liu (👁️lowkey, i forgot gracie liu existed, so all of her color are just inverted. no matter how you picture her in ur brain, just invert the colors)

Cabin Ladybug : Soren Baltimore, 👁️a bit of a quiet lad, it wears a cape given to it by fennel. soren wears pants that are cover completely in pockets, those pockets are practically infinite, anything you can imagine, soren has it in its pockets. Fennel Marlborough, 👁️our favorite camp taxidermist (don't tell anyone) they have the art of life preservation down to a tea, now if they can only get em to start moving again. soren and fennel are tightly nit, they made up two languages, one between only them and the other for the entire cabin.

Cabin Widow-spider: Matthew Napoleon, 👁️he is the void, don't be scared of him just based on looks though. Matthew will teach you about things you thought you knew (you didn't). Because matthew cant actually talk, due to all that void, he communicates in a fun mixture of sign language, charades, and various static esc noises. Matthew is also involved, if not running, most water based activities (and sometimes juno+mila helps out around the cabin)

the cafeteria: Mila Alcorn 👁️and Juno Matsouka, 👁️i say "and" instead of giving the two separate descriptions because they are inseparable, trust me, i've tried. these two fish folk work together in the kitchen to provide food for all the campers at camp this and that. Practically gourmet chefs, these two are quite creative. Even though there's two of them, you'll never have to worry about chaos in the kitchen, mila and juno always compromise with each other, causing for some never before tasted flavors

special doodads

head of camp: Warren Earthman,👁️ he's a, stern, tired, grumpy, old man. also the walls in are covered with different brands and types of chainsaws. beside the threatening aspects of him, he also openly picks favorites and doesn't listen to anything that doesn't openly concern him or the government.

the rot: Sydney October Sargent, a weird rotting man who lives in the woods surrounding the camp. Don't get to close to him without a gas mask, please, the spores that emanate off of him are damn near hallucinogenic. Besides the skin falling off his bones, the various species of bugs living within him, and all the mushrooms/fungus living from his decomposing self, he's almost harmless. I mean, he's in shambles, a corpse who just won't let go, just try not to breathe near him.

Martime: Jedidiah A.M. Martime, a man who keep appearing in my dreams, I don't have dreams often, why is here, in color no less. this annoying, clock obsessed, not even real, man keeps trying to tell me that he's "here for you," and "it's ok, you can take a brake, you have enough time." what that man needs to do is pipe down and accept the fact he doesn't even exist in the physical plane.

#camp here and there #chnt #camp here and there swap au #chnt swap au #ch&t swap au #camp this and that #my doodles ::]#(only putting this tag because this is a project i'm very passionate about)#pinned post #YYIIPPPEEEEEEE

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brownbearwrites · 1 year

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stay here by my side (pt.3)

part one and part two, or read it on ao3

pairing: atwow!neteyam x omatikaya!reader word count: 1.4k neteyam and the reader make their way back to the village, knowing that they'll have to explain their disappearance to Jake and Neytiri notes: remember how I said that this would be a shorter chapter? yeah, that didn't happen. I'm not entirely pleased with the ending of this, because I feel like it reads a tad rushed. Anyway, I hope it's not too bad, and that you'll all still enjoy it!

The sun had already risen by the time you and Neteyam make your way back to the village. You hold onto his hand as the two of you weave your way through the various huts and other structures, heading straight toward the hut belonging to Neteyam’s family. You had decided, not long after waking from your dream-like state, that it would be best to break the news to them quickly. After all, they’d probably be worried sick, what with you and their son disappearing for the entire night and all. They would most certainly want an explanation for your sudden departure.

One of the camp elders notices you and Neteyam, her head swiveling to follow your movements. “Thank Eywa, they’re home safe,” you hear her mutter to herself.

You grimace at her words, glancing over to Neteyam. His lips are pursed, giving away his nerves, though the look in his eyes is nothing except resolute. You know now that your sudden disappearance had not gone unnoticed. It would have been a nice discovery if it did not also entail that Neteyam’s parents were most certainly going to give you two absolute hell over your unannounced exit. You give Neteyam’s hand a soft squeeze, finding yourself suddenly desperate for his reassuring touch.

Before long, you arrive at the Sully family’s hut. Its cloth covering is already flipped open, giving you a full view of the interior of the home. The kids are all sitting together near the very back of the space, Tuk pressed in between her older siblings. Neytiri is perched on top of a pile of woven sleeping mats, her song cord clasped tightly between her clenched fingers. Jake is pacing the length of the home, you can see that the expression on his face is thunderous, even with the way his eyes are pointed to the floor below him.

Neytiri is the first to notice you and Neteyam approaching, springing up from her seat as she does. Jake’s head snaps up, a brief look of relief flashing over his features.

“My child,” Neytiri exclaims, grabbing Neteyam by his upper arms. Her wide, panic-filled eyes scan him for signs of injury, even tugging him into a position that reveals his back to her—finding nothing out of the ordinary. With you, she thankfully forgoes the excessive physical examination, seemingly content with just a scanning look.

“Out!” Jake commands his younger children, the three of them scrambling to stand up to leave the hut. Kiri shoots you a knowing look over her shoulder as she steps outside, following behind Lo’ak and Tuk.

“What the hell were you two thinking?” Jake exclaims from where he’s now taken up position beside his wife. “You both know it is not safe out there. I told you to stick by the camp, just like I told you to only leave with approved supervision. And still, you disappear to god knows wherever all night, without telling anyone!”.

Neteyam’s eyes meet his father’s, neither of them willing to back down and be the first to break the eye contact once it has been made. Meanwhile, Neytiri’s eyes flick from her son’s face to her husband’s, before landing on you.

“I know that what I did was wrong, sir,” you hear Neteyam challenge his father, “but you have to understand that I had a good reason for my actions. I wouldn’t have disobeyed your orders otherwise”.

“A good reason?” Jake shouts, “I sure hope it’s good—it could’ve gotten you both killed!” he continues his angry raving.

Neytiri’s eyes feel like they’re burning a hole into your face, the intensity of her look is almost palpable to you. You glance up at her, before chickening out and once more looking away. It's as if she’s not just looking at you, but almost like she’s looking through you. The thought makes a shiver run down your spine.

“MaJake,” Neytiri whispers, her left hand reaching up to rest on her husband’s shoulder.

Jake shrugs her off, pretending not to hear her plea for his attention. Jake prods a finger into Neteyam’s chest, continuing to berate him, “Your mother and I do everything we can to keep you kids safe, and still you disrespect us! I maybe would have expected this from your brother, but not from you, Neteyam. I believed that you were the responsible one, but I guess I was wrong”.

“I’m sorry sir,” Neteyam answers, his voice wobbling with unshed tears, “I did not mean to disappoint you”.

“No!” you interrupt, all the attention now pointed at you, “you cannot simply blame Neteyam for all of this. You cannot convince me that he was wrong to panic. Anyone else would have done the very same if they were in Neteyam’s place; if they found out that they’d be forced to leave the only home they’ve ever known. All Neteyam did was follow his heart, and follow the path that Eywa prepared for him, even though he knew you would not agree with him. That is not something worthy of reprimanding him for. It is a sign of courage, and it should be treated as such!”

You can feel your hands trembling by the time you conclude your statement, tears welling up in your eyes. You look over at Neytiri and are almost shocked by how significantly her gaze has softened. Next to her, Jake has removed his finger from where it had been prodding into Neteyam’s chest, only leaving behind an inflamed patch of skin on the younger man’s chest. Jake’s hands are rubbing his eyes, as he lets out a frustrated sigh. He suddenly appears to be much older than you remember him looking.

“That was not his conversation to overhear,” Jake weakly argues against you.

Neytiri steps forward, pushing her husband to the side. Her attention is focused on Neteyam, whose erratic breathing is audible in the suddenly quiet hut. Her left hand reaches up, cradling her son’s cheek with her fingers. She smiles at him, gentle and soft. She then focuses her attention on you, caressing your face just like she is her son’s. She nods, determined and unyielding. The small smile on her face breaks out into a full grin, the joy now radiating off of her.

Neytiri gently pulls you and Neteyam towards her, all of your foreheads pressing together. She breathes in deeply, you and Neteyam wordlessly following her example.

“My children,” she whispers, her voice full of reverence, “am I right to believe that you prayed, and that the Great Mother answered your plea?”.

Neteyam lets out a breathy laugh, “yeah, she did”.

“Then you are family now, my daughter,” Neytiri tells you, “as you know, we Sully’s always stick together. It is decided, you will come with us”.

Neytiri releases her grip on you and Neteyam, all three of you once more righting yourself. You look over at Neteyam to find that you’re both sporting matching grins. Neytiri accepts you, she accepts the bond between you and her son. You feel as if a massive weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, the relief you feel is immense—a feeling that you also feel radiating from Neteyam’s end of your bond.

“Excuse me, what the hell is going on?” you suddenly hear Jake exclaim.

The sudden desire to break out into giggles arises from within you, and you have to be careful to school your expression as Neytiri informs her husband of his son’s newly developed bond. It takes her a while to convince Jake that this is a good thing, though he comes around when he realizes just how special it is that Eywa allowed you and Neteyam to bond before you’ve both come of age. Not long after, Neytiri leaves the hut to call Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak back inside—the three of them, unsurprisingly, are found huddled together by the back end of the hut. When you tell them the news, Kiri reveals that she had already expected this to happen, though, like Lo’ak, she’s very happy for you both. You’ll never forget the look of sheer excitement on Tuk’s face when Neteyam told her that she now had another sister.

That night, when you fall asleep wrapped up in Neteyam’s arms, it’s with the knowledge in mind that you have a family now. That night, you rest well; preparing yourself for the days that are yet to come.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam atwow #neteyam avatar #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #neteyam headcanons

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cerise-on-top · 4 months

Note

HELOOOOOOO IM BACKKK

can we get some Valeria Garza headcanons? :p

LOVE UR WORK AS ALWAYS DRINK WATER BYEBYEEE

-☁️

Hello! Welcome back :> I wasn't sure if you wanted general HCs or romantic ones, so I did both! I hope they're enjoyable! In regards to these HCs, there's one mention of drugs, but the HCs are about Valeria, so that's to be expected!

Also, to anyone reading this: Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays! I'm saying this today because in my country we celebrate Christmas today and not on the 25th! I'm wishing you all a few lovely days ahead :-)

General:

Playing games of any kind with her is actually infuriating and almost unfair. You’d think games like Monopoly would be fair since it’s based on luck for the most part, but no. I can assure you Valeria could set a world record on beating someone at Monopoly. But it’s not just that game either. You wanna poker with her? Tycoon? Sixty-Six? Granted, they require some skill as well, but she uses her nogging on a daily basis, so it’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. And even if you only explained the rules to her once, she’ll beat you soon enough. Might also be prone to cheating, but you’ll only ever accuse her of doing so whenever she actually wasn’t. It’s not illegal or forbidden if no one ever finds out. The stakes can be pretty high, she’s not afraid to play for money either. But I advise you to maybe play over gummy bears or lollipops or something. She won’t be happy, she will complain, but it beats losing all your money to a businesswoman of her caliber.

When she was a kid she actually didn’t mind Christmas all that much, she quite liked it. It was colorful, it was bright, it was nice. Her parents may not have been the richest people, but she usually got what she wanted for Christmas as well, so it wasn’t a particularly sad time for her back then. Even now her cartel is doing well during that time since people like to fill the gaping holes within their hearts with drugs so they won’t have to think about being alone and freezing during such a festive time. She doesn’t get jolly like she used to, she won’t even wear a Christmas hat, but she can appreciate Christmas, if just for her earning a bit more money than she normally would. You can even give her gifts during this time. Depending on who they’re from and what it is, she might just throw them away, but if it’s something nice from someone she’s close with then she might just keep it for a little while longer. Although Valeria would never admit it, she does like cookies quite a lot. She can’t bake particularly well, not that she has the time for that either, but that won’t stop her from eating a few whenever she receives some from a trustworthy source. There is an elderly lady in Las Almas who she likes to buy them from occasionally. That lady is a real sweetheart, so Valeria is sure the cookies aren’t poisoned.

No one ever gets to enjoy it anymore these days, but Valeria can cook pretty well. She learned how to very early on so she could relieve her mother a bit from her burdens, but it stuck with her. She has a real knack for how much spice you put in which dish. Yes, she’s a bit rusty since she hasn’t cooked for herself in quite a while, but if you’re her s/o and you’re sick, you might just receive some birria or carne guisada. It’ll be unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. Her food is a bit spicy, so if you’re not used to spicy food it can and will leave you teary eyed, but it’s really good. Naturally, her specialties include, for the most part, Mexican dishes only. But, in theory, you could give her any recipe and it would turn out just fine. Except for anything sweet. Sweets she cannot do at all, they’ll always turn out terrible. It used to get to her when she was young, but these days she couldn’t care less. She isn’t anyone’s housewife, so why should she care? Back in the day when she still had time for dating someone properly, a telltale sign she was mad at you would be her cooking for you, but making it unbearably spicy. Valeria could always eat it, she can eat any spicy pepper as a snack just like that and not be bothered at all.

Romantic:

It doesn’t matter who you are, Valeria will always be the dominant person among the two of you. Her personality alone won’t allow for much else, but there are also other circumstances as well. Besides, she’s been in the military and she can tell you from experience that the people there don’t think too highly of women. Ergo she wants to prove herself to be above those morons, especially Alejandro. While she might not be affectionate at all in public, it’s the small things in private that really show you who’s in control. Beckoning you closer with her finger, telling you how much of a good thing you are for her, moving you a bit so she can get to something she needs. Granted, it’s nothing big, she won’t put a collar on you, but she will do what she can to make you feel smaller than you actually are. It doesn’t matter if you’re 1,50m or 2m tall, whether you’re looking up at her or down on her, you will treat her with utmost respect. While she might seem degrading or mocking very often, she does take your feelings into account as well. If her being mean to you genuinely hurts you then she will do what she can to tone it down a bit. She won’t stop entirely, but she’ll better herself. You’re welcome to sass her back a bit, though. If it’s just some light joking around she won’t mind. Sass her back too hard and you will be put into place, though.

Going off of one of the previous points I made: Once Valeria loves you, she is completely and entirely committed to you. It doesn’t matter what you want, you’ll get it within days. You want someone’s head? Absolutely, no questions asked. Even something smaller, such as some clothing, jewelry, a video game console, a plushie. You name it, you’ll get it. You’re her everything in this rotten world, of course she’ll do what she can to keep you happy. And if one of those goons from the army ever tries to hurt you, then even the ninth layer of hell will seem like the greatest mercy the heavens and hell could muster. She’s fiercely protective over you. While she won’t kidnap you, she wants to keep you happy, after all, she will try to convince you to live with her. Somewhere in a place no one knows about, where it’s only you and her without a worry for those two pests, Alejandro and Rodolfo. If you ever were to meet those two then I can assure you, you’ll never see Valeria this angry again. She loathes those two men with her entire being. Not that she has a very high opinion of men to begin with. If one ever decides to lay his grubby, disgusting hands on you, regardless of whether it’s some guy from the streets or the president of the United States, he can say goodbye to his head.

As I said before, she’s a really good cook. In fact, she’s good at just about anything you can think of. Well, almost. Either way, she’d love it if you could cook well. In fact, having someone who’s willing to be a housespouse is a dream come true. She won’t always be able to come home to you immediately, but if she finds you having cooked her a delicious, hearty meal, she’ll be on cloud nine. But even if your food isn’t anything noteworthy she’ll still eat it because it’s from you. She may be a cruel woman at times, but Valeria does care about you and tries not to hurt your feelings too much. At best, not at all. If she comes home to your shared home being well taken care of by you, with you having cleaned all the rooms as well as all the clothes that needed washing, you’ll have earned something nice from her. If you aren’t able to do so, no worries, she can always just hire some personnel to take care of it. But if it was you, then just name what you want from her. You want some cuddles or a kiss? Naturally. Some tres leches or churros? She won’t make them herself, but you can bet she’ll get you some regardless. If she’s especially tired some sweet words might be exchanged as well, but don’t expect her to be like that every time. Sometimes she does want to be a bit sweeter than usual, tell you how grateful she is to have you, but she’s afraid you might think of her a bit less than before, even if it wouldn’t happen. So, while she may not be someone who enjoys giving words of affirmation unless she needs to, you can count on her showing you affection through gift giving and quality time.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #getting to write about my favorite characters today is a gift in and of itself in all honesty #plus I got my jacket today that looks like 09 ghost's and I couldn't be happier :D #I also got a bag and a one piece shirt and I'm so happy about that! I love one piece and I've been in need of a bag again!#either way these hcs aren't particularly christmassy since I thought I was supposed to go for something general #but I hope they're enjoyable nonetheless!#thank you for sending in a request for lovely Valeria!#the things I'd give to have her call me something nice are unreal #I'd melt like butter if she ever said something to me in spanish even if she just called me pendejo #either way my christmas was well spent in that I got to write about a girl today so I'm happy!#Happy holidays! Merry christmas!#Happy new year too if I don't post by then (which is unlikely!)

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yumeka-sxf · 1 year

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A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 15

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

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The Campbelldon tennis tournament is the first time we see Twilight spend a considerable amount of time with someone with whom he doesn't have to act as Loid Forger…and the contrast is striking. There's no denying that he and Nightfall are exceptional at their work and make a great spy team. But, as I previously discussed, that doesn't mean she'd also be a good wife and mother.

While the tactics that the duo use to overcome their opponents are entertaining, I always found the tennis scenes a bit on the boring side, and I realized it's because Twilight and Nightfall have no chemistry beyond working well together as spies. Because Nightfall doesn't want to see anything in Twilight beyond a hardened spy – in fact, she resents the emotions he's developed rather than try to understand them – she doesn't bring out anything new or "real" in him during their interactions. Rather than want to know all of him, she idolizes the spy side of him and refuses to accept his "realer" side…which is very hypocritical of her considering the fact that she's developed intense feelings for him…feelings that, according to her, a spy has no business having. She accepts her own feelings of love for him, in fact, those feelings are what drives most of what she thinks and does, yet the fact that he's showing feelings for others (besides her) bothers her.

On the other hand, while Twilight does show that he cares for Nightfall as her mentor, for example, when he saves her from the rubber bullet and tells her not to push herself too hard after seeing the bruises on her hand, there's no indication that he has any "inappropriate" feelings for her (if Nightfall can tell when his real emotions for his family are seeping through, I'm sure she'd be the first to notice if he had similar feelings for her and would react accordingly).

But the kinds of "inappropriate" feelings she's accusing him of having for his family are, ironically, the kinds of feelings she wants him to have for her alone. As I mentioned before, Nightfall and Franky are both pots calling the kettle named Twilight, black.

Meanwhile, Yor is still convinced that Fiona is a threat to her marriage. Even though Loid had given no indication that Fiona means anything to him besides being a coworker, Yor's insecurities make the threat very real in her mind. She shudders at the thought of going back to her old life where Yuri was always worried about her (once again, thinking of someone else's peace of mind before her own). She has so much anxiety about the situation that she even starts to slightly regress to her old habit of considering assassination to solve her problem: she fiercely squeezes a tennis ball in her hand while thinking that she'll do "whatever" it takes to ensure that her fear doesn't become real…but she quickly stops before she can go further with that idea.

At the end of the tennis tournament, we see another example of Twilight being a thoughtful guy behind his stoic demeanor by giving a pep talk to the defeated Campbelldon kids. Giving them words of encouragement did nothing for his mission, but he chose to take the time to do it anyway because, as I've pointed out many times before, he always tries to consider people's feelings as long as it doesn't conflict too heavily with his work.

When Nightfall inexplicably challenges Yor to a tennis match, Yor's fear about Loid seeing Fiona as a better wife than her, pushes her to accept. As is typical of Twilight, he notices that Yor is uncomfortable about it and tells her she doesn't have to accept, but she insists. He also tells Nightfall to back down (because he knows she's no match for Yor's crazy strength) but Nightfall insists as well.

Twilight is intelligent and sharp about almost everything, but having lived most of his adult life only pretending to have relationships, signs of true romantic love are things he doesn't have a clue about. Hence, he has no idea what's really driving the two women to have this spontaneous tennis match (only Anya knows that!)

When Yor does indeed crush Nightfall, in typical motherly Yor fashion, the first thing she does is ask Fiona if she's okay. Then, when Fiona hastily drives off in tears, she wonders if she did something to upset her (as usual, she thinks she's to blame when someone around her becomes distressed).

While Twilight does slowly start to pick up on the fact that Yor could have the wrong idea about his relationship with Fiona, he quickly tosses that thought aside because their marriage is fake, and Yor knows it.

Even though she won the tennis match, that's still not enough to ease Yor's anxiety about Fiona's relationship with Loid. In an uncharacteristically forward way, she gets right in his face and exclaims "I beat her!" and, when all he can offer is a weak "congratulations," she shouts it again, even closer to his face than before. Twilight is obviously confused about why she's acting like this, so he doesn't know what else to say at the moment other than confirm her statement with enough enthusiasm that will hopefully satisfy her.

But him parroting what she just said did not provide the reassuring words Yor needed to hear. Since Yor doesn't understand her own feelings, and Twilight has trouble understanding hers and Anya's feelings, especially if they involve him, nobody except the audience realizes how much of a threat Fiona is to Yor's newfound security in the Forger family. With Yor not realizing her own feelings enough to ask Loid the questions that would put her mind at ease, she continues to be depressed about the situation even on the following day.

Continue to Part 16 ->

<- Return to Part 14

#spy x family #spy family #spyxfamily #sxf #twiyor #loid forger #yor forger #loidyor #loid x yor #sxf analysis #sxf meta

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therandomfandomme · 6 months

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Biking is accessible movement

Biking is a very accessible mode of transportation and way to exercise, however I think a lot of people don't know that, since there are a lot of countries, who don't have the right infrastructure (which is sad). So, this post is me showing y'all how biking is very accessible.

I am writing this from the perspective of someone with mild chronic pain, so I don't know the ins and outs, I have just seen all these bikes around on the streets, because here in the Netherlands they are very prevelant. I do want to say that biking is far easier on my joints than walking, except the knees, even with my unmodified bike.

An accessability feature that is not the bike itself, but often seen in traffic are the signs for hard of hearing people, which can be attached to the back of the bike to let others know that the person won't respond to audible traffic cues and to be careful.

1. Not having the muscle mass or lung capacity for intense exercise

Electrical bikes used to be mostly associated with senior citizens, however in recent years it has become more popular with high schoolers, who have to bike long distances to school or adults, who don't want to arrive sweaty at work. They can either assist you or do the biking for you. Normal electric bikes can go up to 30 km/h, but the recently popular fatbike can go up to 60 km/h (which is a hazard and should be regulated, but I digress). Every bike type that follows after can be an eletric bike.

2. Needing back support

Of course not everyone can sit on a bike, whose seating gives no support and for those there are lying bikes. Though being able to get up and down from a pretty low seat, which is less.

3. Not having the balance for biking

One big thing with bikes is balancing, which is something I struggle with (shout out to physical therapy for helping with that). Once I'm on the bike it is easier for me, but I struggled a lot with getting on and off the bike for a while as well as balancing in general, so I had training wheels for a lot longer than most of my peers.

Luckily, there are a lot of options for people who have bad balance or for whom getting on and off a bike would be more of a struggle. A fatbike already makes for easier balance, however for more aid you have tricycles for adults, which are pretty common. And an extra wheel can also be put on a lying bike.

4. Mental disabilities that limit safe independence in traffic

Not everyone can be in traffic unsupervised due to mental disabilities or brain damage, so not everyone can bike on their own. However, there are many ways to bike while having someone there for safety.

A tandem might seem like a gimmick to some, but it can allow someone to bike without needing to take into account all the moving traffic. And the dubble bike, which is more often used as a fun thing for tourist to explore a city while being able to chat, can provide the same for those with bad balance. If the person in question is smaller than the person supervising, such as a child or little person, than there is also a bike attachment for any bike with a luggage carrier.

5. Using a mobility aid

A lot of people think that you can't bike when using a mobility aid, however biking is not the same as walking, so should your body allow it, biking is possible.

If a person uses a cane or crutches there are ways to hold them in place. A walker can also be attached to the back if it is foldable. If a person is in a wheelchair (depending on what kind) then a hand bike is an option, which allows for higher speeds than moving regularly, while not taking more energy. A person with a wheelchair can also be transported with a bike, if they are not able to move through traffic independently (i have been informed that this is for kids, so thank you for that addition).

6. Lifestyle makes it more difficult to bike

Some people can ride a bike, but aren't able of biking, because they have kids, pets or need to move more stuff. However, there are ways to still use a bike in those circumstances. Popular among people in busy cities with more than one kid is a cargo bike. A cargo bike is also avaible with three wheels for extra balance and both can be electric. For pet owners the trailer is more popular, since a pet cannot jump out of it, though I've also seen plenty of babies and toddlers in them. Both these options can naturally also hold stuff.

Of course I totally understand that not everyone is able to bike and that not everywhere there is the infrastructure necessary. I am just passionate about it and I think that a lot of people might not realize that biking can be more accessible than it is often portrayed. I might have missed something, so feel free to add if you find anything and I would love to hear thoughts or just reactions :D

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 5 months

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I'm not sure if this would garner a full request of headcanons? But here we go How would Kiryu, Majima, and Ichiban react to a foreign darling? Like she knows Japanese (mostly) but isn't from Japan? I'm totally not projecting here 👀

Kiryu canonically doesn't know ANY other language besides Japanese, so I think he would fall for a Darling that has a similar spirit. Like...someone who shows strength, either by fighting or by showing quiet strength like Haruka's mother (I don't remember her name and it doesn't matter because she's a walking plot device)

He would try to learn some basic words in their first language even if they know Japanese, just as a sign of respect to them. It's only fair since they learned Japanese. I think he might ask Gary Buster Holmes for some basic English if Darling speaks it since he's also a foreigner.

He would be protective of them, even if they can't fight. He wouldn't restrict their freedom or kidnap them or anything, but I think he'd simultaneously watch over them a lot but also distance himself from them like he did his adopted family so they aren't targeted. But eventually he would realize that trying to do that has never kept his loved ones safe in the end. Hell, Haruka went through so much while he was in prison. So he would do his best to watch over Darling and likely not confess because he knows it likely wouldn't work even without the language barrier.

Majima knows more English than you'd think, but isn't that fluent. So he would stick to Japanese most of the time except for a few words here and there. Though it'd be difficult sometimes to understand since he speaks in the Osaka dialect, and foreign!Darling might not understand everything he says at first. He would give them a lot of freedom by yandere standards, and just have some of his guys watch them sometimes. Consider that he's the Mad Dog of fucking Shimano, and that if someone was going to try anything untoward against HIS partner, they forfeit all right to live the moment they do it. Like. You only bother Majima's Darling if you feel like dying or getting the shit beaten out of you. While the Mad Dog thing is largely an act, Majima will do anything for his loved ones; unlike Saejima, you can't easily defend yourself, so he's gonna do it for you. The urge to leave you for your own good gets to him sometimes. Being with a Japanese person would be difficult as it is, and he would feel like he's betraying Makoto in a sense. He never contacted her again because he wanted her to be safe and far from his life of danger in the Yakuza, so why does he think it's okay to be with Darling then? I think he would come to terms with it and accept that he doesn't NEED to cut ties with someone he loves. He is allowed to love someone and take the risks that comes with that.

Ichiban's English consists of any and all loanwords from the Dragon Quest series. Like he canonically doesn't know any English and just panics when a gaijin asked him a simple question. He is very confused but he has the spirit! So he's kind of relieved that Darling knows Japanese. It was hard enough memorizing kanji and taking Japanese as a class when he was a kid, and he was born and raised here! He thinks his Darling is so cool for being able to understand two languages. He wants to know all about your home country. What food do they have? What video games are popular? What movies are from there? If you're American he would constantly ask you about the celebrities he keeps seeing on ads and shit all over Japan. He's protective of you (he IS a Hero, after all) and in his fantasy daydreams, you're a character from a mystical faraway empire that joined his party and who the Hero fell in love with. He's the most protective of the three if you aren't a capable fighter, and he has a habit now of texting you every morning when he wakes up just to say hi and to make sure you're ok. If you don't respond he doesn't immediately worry but he feels uneasy until you do respond.

#.like a dragon #.yakuza #.ichiban #.majima #.kiryu #yandere like a dragon #yandere yakuza #yandere ichiban #yandere majima #yandere kiryu #.myshit

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generic-sonic-fan · 2 months

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Fic idea that won't leave my head despite my continued insistence that I'm not going to write it (Bad dad Eggman warning)-

It's a Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games fic. Bowser and Eggman are hanging out, villain solidarity and all that.

Metal Sonic walks in. Eggman precedes to pause his conversation with Bowser to absolutely scream at Metal for coming in third place in the 100m sprint. The whole nine yards. "I built you to be SUPERIOR!" and all that. He then orders Metal back to the training area to practice clear through the night 'til the next morning.

He then turns back to Bowser and says, "you were right! Kids are difficult!"

And from that moment Bowser makes it his mission to adopt Metal Sonic at all costs.

Just one problem- nobody believes him.

The Mario gang insists that it's none of their business. There's a truce between heroes and villains during the games, after all, and Peach isn't interested in pissing off what she sees as Mobian sovereign who's been known to mess with cross-dimensional shenanigans before.

So, to the surprise of everyone, Bowser then goes to Sonic to mention the problem- only for an apathetic Sonic to emphasize that he's already given Metal enough second chances by now and that frankly it's his own fault if Eggman's mean to him. Most of the rest of the Sonic gang seem to agree with this- with the distinct exception of Amy, but even she's hesitant to stir up trouble during the games. She suggests that if Bowser nicely talked to Eggman about all this, maybe Eggman would treat Metal Sonic better!

But of course, Bowser already gave the dress-down of the century to Eggman the very moment after he sent Metal Sonic away. Did Eggman listen? Of course not.

But we all know that Bowser is nothing if but persistent. He also happens to be the resident expert on kidnapping people. . .

Step 1: Bowser got his kids together and asked them to help him befriend Metal. So now Metal's got this menagerie of Koopas suddenly taking an interest in him and he doesn't really know how to deal with it. Other kids? They think he's cool and not a failure? They invite him to hang out and do fun things? But of course, Eggman prohibits "fraternizing with the enemy", but Metal finds ways to get around this order anyway.

Step 2: have the Koopa kids teach Metal a koopa sign language- one of the kids, Lemmy, already uses this sign language because he's nonverbal, so it's not too hard for the rest of the kids plus Bowser himself to sneak in a few lessons behind Eggman's back.

Step 3: once Metal is conversational, Bowser asks Metal if he'd like a new papa who won't scream at him so much.

Step 4: realize in horror as Metal explains that he can't leave- Eggman's programming won't allow him.

Step 5: Bowser asks Amy to ask Tails how to get the subservient programming out of Metal's head. Tails then provides a small USB plug-in that'll give him remote access connection once plugged into Metal's systems so that he can undo the programming.

Step 6: kidnapping time!

Step ???: realize that Metal would actually prefer to be a girl. Bowser's daughters/GNC kids then proceed to dress her up in the blackest, spikiest clothes and accessories they have. Metal adores it.

Step 7: ruin the entire Olympic games setup as Eggman threatens violence against whoever stole his robot.

Step 8: Metal gives her original "dad" the finger as she jumps into the portal back to the Koopa kingdom with her much cooler new family.

Uhhhh skip a few steps in here as the whole Bowser family goes no contact with the rest of either gang for a bit. They don't care that they ruined the Olympic games, not when they got a cool new daughter/sister out of the deal. Eventually the Mario gang comes around and forgives Bowser for ruining the games. They then invite Metal go-karting. All is well.

Step 11: Sonic visits the mushroom kingdom one day and is absolutely appalled to find out that people say to him "ohhhh you're like the flesh version of Princess Metal from the Koopa kingdom!"

#random bullshit go!#mario and sonic at the olympic games #sth #metal sonic #bowser #add this to the pile of crossovers I'll never actually write #this was inspired by the fact that both Bowser and Metal love wearing black bands with spikes

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papermint-airplane · 2 months

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OC Questionnaire

I was tagged by @stargazer-sims, @drawing-way-outside-the-lines, @bool-prop, and @happy-lemon. Hehehehehe now I get to do more than one! 😈

Aiden Ayy 👽

Name: Aiden Ayy

Nickname: He was definitely that kid who tried to nickname himself and then got frustrated when nothing stuck. Despite his best childhood efforts, Aiden has no nicknames. 😭

Gender: Male

Star sign: Gemini ♊

Height: 5'8"

Orientation: Pansexual

Nationality/Ethnicity: 100% Sixamite

Favorite Fruit: On Earth, pineapple. On Sixam, grarglefroot. It's basically a pineapple except blue.

Favorite Season: Spring.

Favorite Flower: I think I answered this before in a different post with some wild ass flower that looks like it belongs on an alien planet which is great worldbuilding and all but I literally forgot what it was so let's go with basic bitch roses. 😅

Favorite Scent: Cinnamon.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Aiden is up for any of these as long as they're spiked. He hasn't yet learned that not everyone does that all the time and that it makes you look like you have a problem if you do.

Average Hours of Sleep: Aiden doesn't actually need sleep! He meditates to restore his brain power but sleep isn't necessary for him. He's a lot like D&D elves in that way. He can choose to sleep if he wants to, though, because dreams are fun and he looks cute when he's eepy. 🥺

Dogs or Cats: Yes. Any animal at all, really. Aiden is fascinated with them.

Dream Trip: Sixam. Poor baby wants to go home. 😭

Number of Blankets: "I'm worried what you just heard was 'give me a lot of blankets'. What I said was 'give me all the blankets you have.' Do you understand?"

Random Fact: Aiden is based on a Sim I created in the Sims 2 when I was 18 for a Bachelorette Challenge. It was, predictably, a disaster, and the poor baby kept having mental breakdowns. I decided it was because he was new to Earth and the stress of all the unfamiliarity wore heavily on him, but it was definitely because I didn't know how to cheat needs at the time. He got a visit from the invisible psychiatrist more than once, you know? It became a character trait! Aiden, the nervous alien who just wants love. 👽💚

Roman Gallan 🧜‍♂️

Name: Roman Gallan

Nickname: "Hey Asshole". Guess who gave him that one. Go on, guess. (It was his little sister)

Gender: Male

Star sign: Leo ♌

Height: 5'11"

Orientation: Gay

Nationality/Ethnicity: Icthyan

Favorite Fruit: He's super fond of this obscure Earth fruit called a "lemon". He eats them whole, peel and all. Somebody please teach him not to do this. 😐

Favorite Season: Summer

Favorite Flower: Any and all wildflowers.

Favorite Scent: Cedar. Beating the moth accusations for sure.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Coffee. He likes it bitter and strong enough to crawl out of the cup under its own power.

Average Hours of Sleep: 5 or 6. He should probably sleep more but it's kind of hard when the distorted whispers of the primordial god that created your planet are emanating from your eye sockets. Most Icthyans learn to accept it as kind of a cursed ASMR, but Roman tends to sleep light anyway.

Dogs or Cats: Cats.

Dream Trip: It says here in my notes that he's always wanted to visit Uranu--ROMAN, SERIOUSLY?!

Number of Blankets: Roman's a hot sleeper, so no blankets for him, thanks.

Random Fact: Like all Icthyans, Roman is amphibious. He has lungs and can breathe on dry land like any Earth Sim, but he's also able to breathe underwater for an extended period of time.

I think everybody and their dog has done this one by now considering ol' Professional Crastinator Laura's stellar time management skills. 🙄 Let's throw a few names out, though. @miss-may-i, @treason-and-plot, @llamabees, @bellakenobi, @kimmiessimmies, @rebelangelsims, @moyokeansimblr, @id-element0. As always, ignore if you've already done it or just don't want to.

#tag game #tag meme #just simblr things #oc development #oc questions #sim: aiden ayy #sim: roman gallan

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katy-133 · 12 days

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Bluey Spoilers for The Sign (S3 Special)

This episode is so polished, not just from an animation and story standpoint, but also on a structural level.

I really wanna talk about it, so let's go step by step with this.

Early on in this episode (it's over 30 minutes instead of the usual 7), Calypso tells Bluey a story about a farmer who is granted what appears to be good luck (having a horse), which actually leads to bad luck (getting injured from the horse and is forced to stay in bed), but then leads to good luck (the military comes and takes all the young men from the village, except the farmer, because he couldn't leave his bed). It's basically the "blessing in disguise" idiom.

Good luck, bad luck, good luck.

Bluey is confused by the ambiguous ending, not understanding how an ending can be both happy or sad.

Then the rest of the episode proceeds to illustrate this idea for Bluey to better understand it.

The whole episode uses the same reversal of fortune structure right to the end. Just when I thought they'd finished using it, it would come back again, bringing more and more previously planted elements into play.

Bluey's Mum needs to find the missing bride (bad fortune), so she takes the girls to a bubble tea shop where Bluey finds a coin (good fortune). They find a telescope and Bluey has a coin to use it, but it gets stuck and she gets upset (bad fortune). Because the coin is stuck, the sheep dog family are able to use the telescope later on to spy a different house they want to buy instead.

Bluey will never realise that her actions directly affected the outcome of her getting to keep her home. asdfghjkl

There's so many other details I'm leaving out, but that illustrates the overall structure.

I love domino affect stories like that where everything's interconnected and little details from one person's life are directly affecting a stranger's. It's very Dirk Gently, it's very 428 Shibuya Scramble, it's very Good Omens. It creates this emerging narrative that our lives are more intertwined than we realise and that trying to do right by your community effects your community (and past it) more than you can even be fully aware of. I think it's an important message for kids (anyone really), because it gives you this perspective on life that urges you to try to do the right thing, even in the face of feeling powerless or small.

#bluey #my text #storytelling #dirk gently #428 shibuya scramble #good omens

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bomberqueen17 · 5 months

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whelm

ok so i survived both turkey processing days and all the shenanigans in between, and have made it back to buffalo. I was so tired after driving home I briefly forgot how to use a flush toilet-- not the flushing part, but I just stood there in the bathroom confounded at the notion of all the steps I was going to have to go through in order to answer this call of nature, and genuinely lost a few minutes of time in several scattered interludes at various points in the process to just not knowing how to proceed. I mean like you have to remove clothing and things, you have to sit on the thing, you have to-- do something, which sometimes largely happens on its own but sometimes you do have to like, apply effort, or at least stop applying an effort you may not even have realized you were applying-- you have to then attend to some things-- it's a lot of steps and I fully zoned out between each one, and really had to concentrate to do them in order. it was an ordeal.

Ridiculous.

i'm just gonna put in a cut because this is semi-incoherent bitching.

yet again, my older sister last-minute swapped our Family Togetherness Holiday, too late for me to also change my plans, so the whole family got together yesterday, except me, who had already promised to spend the holiday with Dude's mom (who OFFERED us an out, and like an IDIOT i BELIEVED that the plans my family had made would be honored THIS TIME, lucy won't pull the football away again!!! so I said no, and she made all her plans and I could not back out). I kicked up a whole fuss about this in the group chat when it was first revealed because this has happened every time that we were supposed to have Christmas together for the last SEVEN YEARS, and everyone told me to shut up because I wasn't being excluded on purpose so it didn't count, and so I tried to send friendly messages yesterday so I wouldn't feel so excluded, and really got no responses, because nobody cared that I wasn't there, so I'm feeling real shitty about that. I'm not entitled to be upset, see, since nobody meant for it to happen, but it's what happens every time. And unfortunately by the end of the whole discussion I wasn't feeling very giving, so when my sister said "we'll just have to make our plans for next year", I wrote back "we had made our plans for this year, will it be any different???" and haven't had any response. It will be different, because I just won't ever make any other plans, and so will be able to just "roll with it", which is what my sister wanted, but since we're talking distances of up to 700 miles for me, my deadline for "rolling with it" is a great deal less flexible than hers. but this is all my fault, I guess. I'm not entitled to be upset, see. So I won't be. Whatever.

It sucks and I'm mad. And Mom's mad at me because I made a fuss, and if I'd been quiet about it then nobody would have had to acknowledge any feelings, but don't worry, nobody has really acknowledged any feelings at all so I guess it doesn't matter, I just get to feel guilty for being a Problem.

(The rest of us will get together for Christmas. Older sister, with her three kids, was supposed to come. The last three times when this happened, we scrambled and made alternate plans. But I'm just not free. Which I'll get to. SO there's no alternative really offered. She declined the space I'd had open for her, and I just don't have another one, so it's me not wanting to see my family, I guess, and I don't get to be upset.)

Anyway.

Dude and I had all the windows replaced in our house in October, and contracted with the same company to have our kitchen redone, and when we signed that contract in like April I think (I no longer remember, it was maybe in the summer) they told us the work would happen in probably February.

Last week they emailed and said they could begin now. November 29th.

I have made no plans for this, have begun no arrangements, have not begun to consider where the things that live in my kitchen will be stored for the six-week duration of the work. We knew we were going to bring the cat over to Dude's mom's, but we had not yet worked out our own logistics, because like, it was going to happen in February. We had time. I could get through the end of the farm season, Dude could get through some travel he has to do for work in early December, we could regroup, and then we could start making a plan. We still have to buy a dishwasher, apparently. And lighting fixtures, those aren't included (Dude thought they were but I asked which ones he'd picked out, if they are, and he was like well I didn't, and I didn't either, so there is NO WAY they're installing light fixtures if we never picked any out, they made us pick the color of the grout for the tiles and the hinges for the cabinets and shit they're not just going to pick any old light fixture and go with it!), and there are all kinds of little things we haven't even started to imagine and there is no time, we have to pack everything into boxes right now.

Dude's mom will be away for Christmas, starting next week. So what will happen is we'll bring the cat over, and then a few days later, after we bring her to the airport, we'll just go over and stay in her house. This is incredibly convenient. It's less than a quarter mile from our house, so we can easily stop by and check on the work and make sure everything is in order, lock and unlock doors as needed, so on and so forth. The work won't be done by the time she comes back, but there's enough room in her house that we can still stay there if it drags on. So this is all fine.

But in the midst of this, we will travel to my mom's house for Christmas, and that's already sort of asking a lot (we'll have to board the cat, and then nobody will be there to check on the contractors; I expect they'll take some days off, but we'll have to communicate with them about it.)

I simply can't also travel to Baltimore in the midst of this, which is what my sister had offered as the make-up event for Christmas. (Since her family was blowing their holiday travel allotment on the biannual Let's Just Do Thanksgiving Instead event, which always excludes me, by sheer coincidence, and it's like, you know, I don't have to ascribe this to malice, it just is an undeniable example that you don't give a fuck whether I"m there or not or you would not every single time take the option that excludes me? Nobody will acknowledge this. I'm being oversensitive, and also making trouble.)

I'm really considering for next year just going on a fucking cruise with Dude, if nobody cares whether I'm there or not. But it won't matter, and it will really only hurt my feelings, when it turns out that nobody misses me if I don't turn up anyway.

But I don't have time to really worry about that, because I have to take everything out of this kitchen where I've been cooking for eighteen years, and find a place for it elsewhere in this 800-square-foot house, and make sure it's somewhere I'll be able to find it again in case I need it during the expected six weeks (and we all know these projects always run over) that I'll be kitchenless.

Anyway. Hope everyone had a lovely turkey holiday. I, sick of turkey, was happy enough to eat ham. The three of us had quiet conversation and caught up on things. I don't know if or when I'll see my niece and nephews, this coming year, but I know it will have to be at my own initiative if I want it to happen, and even then I need to be prepared for it to get last-minute cancelled.

I miss my dad a lot, he would have at least answered my texts.

#about the author #personal #kitchen remodel #bullshit #family shit #exhaustion

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idolatrybarbie · 7 months

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the world tipped on its side

chapter five - satellite

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

rating & summary: explicit | you reflect on the concept of love.

warnings: smut, swallowing like a champ, references to past physical injury, reference to frigid parent dynamics, dead parents, reader has a disability, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, emotionssss, pathetic!frankie moments.

notes: @wannab-urs gin hurt my feelings so now everyone must suffer next chapter but enjoy this while we're here. i kind of think this is trash garbo but (at the time of queuing this) i'm in a weird headspace coming back home for the first time. also it's late and i've been traveling all day so i'm choosing to ignore myself. goodnight and enjoy.

Friendship. That’s what this is.

Friendship with a man who called you the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Said that you’re so beautiful it’s scary. Who you had just sex with.

You don’t see much of Frankie on set, except for the few chaste and directive conversations between you, himself, and Ashton. In those moments, the very last thought on your mind is whatever is going on with you and him. It’s work, that’s the priority. Not that you give a shit about the movie, but it’d be nice if everyone wrapped and returned home in one piece.

Every time you try and talk to him, someone else pulls you away. This goes on for the first two days of filming in the woods. You don’t know what this is—this pull that keeps you circling him, even if you never quite seem to gain on Frankie in the chase. The sun and moon, bouncing light between each other at all times. You’re trying to figure out which role you are playing.

You catch him in a personal moment on day four, just getting off the phone with someone behind a production trailer. He looks momentarily startled, but not deterred by your presence. A good sign.

“Hey,” Frankie says. He sounds exactly like he did over the phone.

“Hi,” you return. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Yeah. I figured,” he says. “I mean, me too. Just with the—” He’s motioning vaguely at the helicopter parked thirty feet from you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I don’t want to do it here. Maybe you could come over, or…”

“I’ve got my daughter this week,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Oh, shit. Right. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. Things are just really…tight right now. Time-wise.”

The pager at your hip buzzes. Ashton calling everyone back to set.

“I’ll call, okay? I promise,” Frankie says. The words make your chest cold and you hate it. This is selfish, surely. The man has a kid, for crying out loud. Who are you to deny or resent dad duty?

But you do. At this moment, you really do, wishing that the small being he has called his pride and joy would cease to exist for an evening. It’s horrible, so you nod and that's that. Back to work you go.

You wait until the end of the week. Frankie does not call. You hate, hate that you’ve been reduced to the girl in movies that would pine over the phone and wait for that special boy to call. Because really, are any of them all that special? Is Frankie?

Sure, he touched you and it felt like a match to your insides, but does that mean anything? You’re out of practice. He’s the first person to pay you any mind in that way since you became disabled. The more you think about it, really think about it, the more the argument for Frankie Morales falls apart.

Mia comes over on a night where missing Sam makes her heart ache a little too much to be alone, bringing with her a shitty bottle of rosé. You’re half a glass deep when she starts to ask that needling question, What’s wrong? And finishing the bottle by the time you sigh as an answer to her asking for the millionth time. You agreed to be open after the—spat? Blowup? Long overdue reuniting best friend fight?—but it still takes some time. She is prying open a mussel to find a very shitty prize.

“It’s stupid,” you say. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not, and it isn’t,” Mia says, a frown on her face. Your lips stay sealed in a pout and she turns on those evil, adorable eyes. “Tell me.”

You hold out for about five minutes, some action flick moving quietly across your flat screen before you finally give in.

“Jesus! Fine,” you relent. “It’s like being waterboarded.”

Mia grins with satisfaction before her face snaps back to sober (as much as one can be after a whole bottle of wine) seriousness. “Spill.”

“You’re going to say it’s dumb,” you say.

“You’re projecting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I slept with Frankie.” A bomb explodes on screen, illustrating what is most certainly happening inside Mia’s skull at this very moment. “Yeah…”

“Was it good?”

“Mia!” you scold, swatting at her knee.

“Hey! You can’t blame me for asking. I love Sam but I have eyes,” she says. “He reminds me of all the guys we went to school with that have photos with fish on their Tinder profiles.”

“You’re terrible,” you sigh.

“You know it, baby,” she smiles. “So you slept together. What next?”

“We haven’t talked about it.”

Mia holds her tongue for a moment, trying to formulate this sentence in the least explosive way possible. “Do you want to?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say.

“I have to ask. You’re not exactly the talk it out type of person anymore,” Mia says.

Ignoring that, you say, “He’s busy. I’m busy. I hate it.”

“Call him,” Mia tries.

“Did that. Not really an over-the-phone kind of conversation,” you say.

Mia hums thoughtfully. “Okay, well. Try it out with me first.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re going to say to him, say it to me. I know exactly where your mind is going with this—oh no, he has no time for me. Is it even worth discussing this matter that is very important to me if I project unimportance from the other party onto my feelings?"

You don’t say anything, willing another bottle of wine to appear next to the empty one on the coffee table.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong. It’s what you do,” Mia says, confidence in the way she straightens up against the couch. And she isn’t wrong, but maybe you aren’t either. Frankie isn’t her. Frankie isn’t your best friend. He’s friendly, and you fucked.

“Okay, fine,” you say. You focus in on Mia’s eyes, imagining a different pair of them staring back at you. “I just—I want to tell you that what happened…was a first. In a long while. And I don’t know how to say it like a normal goddamn person, but—”

You can’t focus, words flying out of your mouth too fast for your tipsy brain to keep up. Your feelings are a jumble in your head, a vintage game of Scrabble lost to time. Mia’s not Frankie either. You’d have to explain it and provide all this context that you can’t even put words to for her to understand. For this to feel any ounce of real. Frankie would simply get it. But he won’t, because at this rate you’ll never get to tell him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“Well I can’t make you do anything. I know you, and you’ll do what you think is best. Even if you know the alternative might be better,” Mia says. You can’t help but laugh. “I kind of get it, how your dad felt? When we were at school.”

The mood turns. Not sour, not quite the same. Your living room has a palpable edge ebbing through it now, carried through the occasional waft of alcohol between you, Mia, and the open, empty bottle.

“Do you remember him when we were in college?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Your dad? Of course. He was so, I don’t know—hands-on? He was around way more than my parents were,” Mia says.

He showed up every third weekend of the month with a few containers of leftovers; macaroni pie, frozen meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes from his garden.

A man who only softened when you elected to up and leave. A man you resented until the day he died. A man you still resent, deep down in your soul. Yet you miss him.

The first time your heart’s been activated in years to throw you off assured feet and your first instinct is to run home to Dad. He lingers in your car, in the way you hold the gravy boat at Mia’s Thanksgiving dinners; his gloves are what you wore in the months of a tiresome film shoot amid an unending New York blizzard.

You hate him. He loved you. For the sixth time this week, you ponder driving home to clean up his grave. You can’t right now, because of work. Maybe when the summer’s over. The leaves will have started to fall. The headstone could use a good power wash.

“Where’d you go?” Mia asks.

“Hm?”

“You disappeared on me for a second,” she says.

“Thinking,” you say.

“Mm, don’t do too much of that. You’ll break your brain.”

“Already broken.”

“That’s too bad,” Mia smiles. “Had some pretty great thoughts sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“All the time,” she corrects. Mia gets off the couch, taking a minute to steady herself. “I’m calling a ride.”

“Excellent idea,” you nod. “See? Look at you. Responsible, quick-witted. You can do the thinking for the both of us.”

“Slow your roll, Romeo,” Mia cautions, staring into her phone. She looks up at you. “The night is still young. I’m only going home because you’re dry.”

“There’s a reason you keep alcohol at your place and I don’t,” you say. There have been some days, far behind you now, where you might’ve just drank the pain away. Certainly not the way to go.

She leaves you with another laugh and a smile, promising to text you when she gets home. The apartment stills as soon as the door shuts. You almost open it again, reaching for the knob to lean out into the hall and call Mia back. You don’t, instead letting the quiet envelope you. This doesn’t feel the same as the loneliness that would lurk in the shadowy corners of the room. Your lamps finally feel tall enough to reach those spots, dawning light on them and banishing the feeling.

You let yourself sit with it. Not lonely but alone. This isn’t permanent and it’s not a death sentence, as uncomfortable as it feels right now. Mia is there, along with an assortment of friends whose names you’ll have to dust the cobwebs off of soon. Even if Frankie never calls, you’ll be okay. A bittersweet realization for this dull and itching moment.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you pass the bathroom, you pause. You watch yourself, not in judgment like the last time. Plain observation. You blink three times in one minute before moving on.

It’s odd, looking without really looking. You’ve oscillated between dissection and avoidance of yourself for the last handful of years. This is a new skill to build. Look, there she is. A blink in passing.

Wherever you go, there you are. Get used to it.

Back on the studio lot for the rest of the week, you don’t see Frankie. The occurrence becomes less and less significant as the days pass. You almost delete his number from your phone altogether. Almost.

At lunch, you go through your phone to his contact, finger hovering over the trash button. In the end, you decide against it. It’s a number you might need for work. It’d be a pain in the ass to have to go down to payroll for his contact information—like you don’t have the digits memorized. Mia joins you at some point, minutes blurring together as you eat in pleasant silence.

Shooting goes over almost two hours because of rain leaking through the roof onto a set piece. You get home close to midnight. The street lamps bathe everything in a warm glow. Puddles have collected in the divets of the road, water reflecting the artificial light alongside the cold moon.

The elevator ride up to your floor should be like any other. Your instincts know better. Watching the digital numbers change as the metal box ascends, your stomach flips in your gut. You’ve always been acutely aware of the environments you found yourself in, bullshit meter finely tuned to warn you when shit was about to hit the fan.

It’s an instinct your father grew and nurtured in childhood. Because of him, all hard edges and unreachable wells of emotion. He was iced over solid. You found yourself carefully skating over that surface, around and around again for years until you left.

When the elevator doors open, you half-expect to see him standing there. Risen from the grave like a corpse from your dreams. The wall of shiny metal parts into two, and you see someone. Not your father. The breath caught in your throat flashes from crisp to boiling, a tube of Icy Hot slathered across your lungs.

You’ve never told Frankie where you live. So what is he doing here?

Before you’ve even made it to your door, you ask him.

“Thought I’d missed you,” he supplies as an explanation. “Or that you were ignoring me from inside.”

“I can ignore you from outside, too,” you say, setting your bag down. Taking keys from your back pocket, you avert your eyes as you get a grasp on the one for your front door.

“Listen,” he begins, watching as you turn the lock. “I—”

“Look, Frankie. I don’t have time for this. Or you, or your games.” Turning the handle of the door and pushing it open, you grab your things and step inside your apartment. “You said you’d call. You didn’t. End of story.”

“The phone works both ways,” he says. You try not to be shocked at the audacity.

“Well this,” you say, pointing between the two of you, “doesn’t.”

You’re shutting the door when he gently rests a hand on the reinforced wood.

“Please just—let me explain?” Frankie asks. You don’t close the door but don’t open it any wider for him. At that, he says, “Thank you.”

Glancing behind you to find the living room clock, you say, “You’ve got two minutes.” Two minutes to midnight.

“I wanted to call, but I—” Frankie cuts himself off. “I was a coward and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry. I don’t usually feel this way about people. Not in a long time.”

His words are scratching at your heart. You hold your steely gaze against him, ignoring your insides slowly melting behind the door.

“I really like you. More than I’ve liked anybody. More than I like myself most days. That night in Florida was confusing for me. You wanted me there, and I wanted you. And then you said it was scary and I realized just how terrifying it is. This is.” Frankie takes a breath. “I didn’t want this to be weird. Didn’t want to box you into a corner with all of this shit I’m feeling because that isn’t fair and—”

He’s been avoiding focusing on you, instead staring at the nice tile scuff between the doorway and his boot. Frankie looks up, words playing straight on his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost when all he’s looking at is you.

“And now I’m some fucker on your doorstep begging you to listen to me tell my sob story.” From the sounds of it, that’s the last thing he wants.

“Sometimes things don’t work out. That’s life,” you say. You’re telling yourself that this is the smart decision. Ice him out and your heart stays safely in your chest. Close the door and he’ll forget all about you.

Frankie’s eyes are wide, expression raw. He isn’t observing or puzzling over you, he’s barely hiding anything on that face of his. Frankie is bleeding emotion all over your door. You want to take him in your hands and kiss it better. Lick the gore from his mouth, words crimson and dripping off his chin.

So you do.

Setting your bag down in the corner, you open the door wider to see all of him. He stands tall, all broad shoulders under his slubby blue button-down. You’re kissing Frankie before you can consider anything else. He takes ahold of the frilly sleeves of your blouse to pull you closer.

Licking at your teeth, Frankie walks you backward into the apartment. The door is still open. You maneuver around and press your back against it, closing with a thud. He breaks the kiss to murmur another apology against your cheek. You let him, pushing your tongue back into his mouth again.

Gripping the hair that sticks out at the nape of his neck, Frankie moans into the kiss.

“Are you—? Can we?” he asks, whisper-quiet. “Should we?”

No. Yes? You aren’t sure that it matters much anymore. “Do you want to?”

“Always.”

“Okay.”

The kiss is gentler from there on, moving through the front hall and living room with Frankie attached to your face. He almost trips himself taking his boots off. You both make it to the bed, thighs catching at the edge of the mattress. Lying down, he joins you. This is immediately better than that shitty motel, and you haven’t done anything yet.

Frankie moves onto his side, distracted by your lips as he works at the front zipper of your pants. You move your hand to join his, pulling the silver tab down over metal teeth like you’ve done a couple hundred times by now. He huffs in a wordless thanks, pushing your pants down until they are bunched at your ankles. You toe them off along with your socks, leaving you in nothing but underwear from the waist down.

He’s looking at you like an eclipse, utterly fascinated. You begin to shrink in on yourself under his gaze, but he gently runs the pads of his fingers over your cheek. You lean into the warm touch, three matches dragging against your skin to set your face alight.

Frankie kisses down your body, undoing a few of the buttons that sit over your chest. He doesn’t take the shirt off of you, instead pushing it up as his lips kiss over your stomach. You jerk, the soft feeling sending a jolt through your body.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please touch me.” You hate that you’re begging, but love to hear yourself do it.

Frankie does too, moving his mouth over you as he keeps your underwear on. He licks at you over the lycra material, soaking the already damp fabric where your clit sits beneath it. Dipping his tongue low against the gusset, he slips two fingers under your waistband and tugs it away from your skin. The panties peel off of you.

Frankie bunches them in his hand, leaving them beside him on the bed. Without warning, he’s on you again—really this time. He licks at your cunt fervently, like this is the last chance he’ll get to give head. You close your eyes and pull his head closer to your body, small moans slipping past your lips.

This is still a bit of an apology. The thought comes to you amidst your fuzzy haze as you drip onto his tongue. Frankie groans below you, taking your right thigh in one hand and hoisting it onto his shoulder. He’s attached to you again, a different set of lips.

Most of his attention is focused on your clit, his tongue swirling at it between moments when he presses it flat against the whole of you.

“You’re always so sweet for me,” Frankie mumbles. “Wet and pretty. D’you like it when I fuck you with my mouth?”

“Yes, fuck—always,” you sigh.

Dragging him up by the hair, you kiss him again. You need to before you say something stupid. One hand is held softly at your jaw while Frankie’s other hand works you over, pressing hard against your clit.

“God.” Your heart is racing underneath your skin, beating too fast to be quite comfortable.

Frankie’s so close and everything smells like him. Frankie and sex; two things this room has never been exposed to in your tenure here. You should make a candle.

You scratch at his chest, half-hoping to draw a bit of blood as you whine his name.

“Yeah honey? That good? Nice and slow, or—?”

You nod and he slips a finger inside of you, pressing against the front wall of your pelvis. This returns you to begging for more, for anything. For him.

At the edge of an orgasm, Frankie’s fingers leave you in search of a condom. You reach out to the drawer of your bedside table, yanking it forward. Amongst a stash of pens, sticky notes, and batteries is a handful of them. Frankie takes one and opens it up, sliding the latex over his cock. One day, you’ll get your mouth on that thing. Right now you both have other plans.

He works his hand over himself a couple of times before sinking onto the mattress with you. His arms cage you in at either side as he slides in slowly. He’s only halfway inside you when you nod to yourself, a hum barely audible.

“What?” he asks.

“Noting that you’re a missionary type of guy,” you say.

That pulls a laugh from him, morphing into a squeezed moan as you hook one leg over Frankie’s hip. He’s pushed the rest of the way inside of you, breathing heavily at the surprise.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Would that be so bad this way?” you ask. It’s hard to keep up the sarcastic banter when you’re so full of him.

Frankie sighs. “No.” The word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips, the force moving you up the bed half an inch.

What you would give to have him fuck you into the headboard; pound you into the mattress. He can’t, shouldn’t, and seems to know it already. Frankie grants you your wish of laying on you though. Just lightly, a feather of a man on top.

Frankie’s cock kisses the end of your cunt before he pulls out again. You hold onto him, pressing him closer as you keep your face in the shadow of his neck. Picturing the scene, pants off and shirts on, almost makes you laugh. Another punch of his hips fucks the thought from your head as you sink your teeth into his skin. Frankie hisses, losing his rhythm with a slight stutter.

“Do that again,” he says, waiting. You do, kissing at the tender skin of his throat this time before you bite him. The flesh between your teeth is soft and elastic, pulling away from his body.

In Frankie’s absence, your appetite has grown. Maybe that’s what it is: starvation. Waiting for days to get your fill once again. You need him inside you—in your cunt, under your skin, between your teeth. You would devour him if he’d let you.

“You feel so fucking good.” His words come slow, contrasting the small gasps he pulls from you on every thrust, leaving you breathless. Frankie is holding you in almost a cradle now. Claustrophobia settles between your bodies deliciously, the world shrinking down to a pinhole as he fucks you.

It doesn’t quite feel like fucking, though. The way Frankie touches you is too soft in some places, and the way he’s looking at you is killer. His eyes flash with that unexplainable thing, stirring your stomach as you feel your peak again. This is a murder. He’s returning the favour.

The next kiss Frankie gives you is bruising. The heat of your skin against his boils over, the oxygen blur caused by your faulty lungs and the slap of his hips against yours doing you in. You come with a groan, panting into his mouth as he continues to thrust into you.

“So pretty when you come,” he says beside your ear. “So pretty always, sweet thing.”

He pulls out of you, jerking himself off through the condom over your body. You shake your head, removing the thin piece of rubber. You pick up where he left off, spitting on him and stroking Frankie’s cock with the tight circle of your hand.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and loud. “Honey, slow down. Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth.” Testing, you give him a kitten lick at the tip of his dick.

“Oh god.”

You shake your head. “Just me.”

He comes with a few more strokes, striping your tongue, your lips, your chin. You let him go to gather it from your skin onto your fingers. It’s only a little shiny here in the half-dark. You can feel Frankie watching when you press your index past your lips, tasting more of him.

He groans. Again, he says, “You’re gonna kill me.”

Frankie lays down on the empty side of the bed. You brace for his after-sex questionnaire, but the conversation never comes. He rolls onto his side to face you, slipping his arms around your torso as you face away from him.

Eventually he asks, “You still like me being here? Now that it’s here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Florida, it’s a vacation. This is a little more…” Permanent. Memorable.

Whenever you went home for the summer, your childhood bedroom plagued you with thoughts and memories long buried of your amateur firsts. Your brain still sort of worked like that—you’re sure that if you went back to your old unit in California, the handful of PAs and dolly grips you spent nights with would be one of the first things on your mind.

“Yeah,” you say, answering the question. “This is better.��

“Better?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Too late,” Frankie says.

You sigh. “How can you be the coolest guy ever and an absolute donut at the same time?”

“You think I’m cool?” he asks.

Unlike him, you’re honest. “Unfortunately.”

Frankie hums, the rumble of his chest sinking into the bones in your spine easily.

This is all easy. Listening to him breathe, letting him in your space, falling asleep against him. If you weren’t so thoroughly fucked and tired, the simplicity would freeze you, desperate to scramble away. All you can do is lay there, falling asleep in his arms.

When you wake up, Frankie’s gone. Again.

Something painful seizes your chest, an icy claw poking razor-sharp fingers through the slats in your ribs. The sheets on the empty side of the bed still have the faint glow of body heat. He must’ve left recently, or maybe he’s still up. You can catch him before he puts his boots on and walks out your front door—out of your apartment, out of your life.

Franke interrupts your thoughts when he returns to your room, a mug in his hand.

“Did I wake you?” he asks. His morning voice is low and gravelly. A feast for the ears.

“No,” you shake your head. “I thought you left.”

“Moved my boots. They were getting dirt on your nice carpet.” Right. You remember him leaving them somewhere in your apartment. “I made coffee.”

“I’m okay.” You let your breathing even out as he sits back down on the bed with you. “We should…talk.”

“That’s all we ever do,” Frankie says. “Well, that and…” The other thing you two are so proficient at these days.

“I mean really talk. About this,” you say.

“Right,” he nods. Frankie sets his mug down, steam rising from the top. “I guess I do owe you a secret.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “I want to tell you.”

When you told him about the accident, about everything that changed, you’d handed him this soft and precious thing of yours that no one else had ever seen. With the roles reversed, your palms itch. You can’t help but think that you’ll drop his.

“But you have to promise me something first,” Frankie says. “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? Please.”

“Okay.”

A long moment of silence draws on between the two of you as he stares at your bed sheets. Frankie’s mouth twitches, filtering through his vocabulary to find the right words. Then finally, he speaks.

He tells you about a region in South America called Tres Fronteras. About a phone call, a decision, a heist. The money, most of it lost to the unforgiving land and sea. Frankie lost a friend, a wife, and a life he was trying to carve out for himself. All for riches that were never going to be his.

“I killed people. I was good at it—that and flying planes. And then all of that ended with the service. For a while there I was…a bit of a trigger-happy coke head,” he says, almost rolling his eyes. Frankie can’t seem to look at you, the same way he couldn’t in the hall. “Took a long time to clean up my act.”

You understand what he meant on that beach, an apology waiting behind your teeth as you keep your eyes on him. You don’t verbalize it. Instead, you take his hand into yours. Gently, you squeeze.

“I guess you aren’t the only one squirrely about secrets,” Frankie whispers.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Frankie surrenders, face drawn when he meets your eyes.

“That’s not the person you’ve shown me. It’s not the guy that I see. We change. For worse or for better.”

You would be lying if you said that his admissions don’t unsettle you; that this is an easy pill to swallow. But you know him. You want him. He and you are cut from the same cloth in the end. This changes nothing.

“Which one do you think you are?” he asks.

“Worse.” But that can change. Is changing, even as you sit here.

“And me?”

At that, you smile. “Better.”

You want to tell him that the promise of seeing him had been one of the only things getting you through the slow, thick haze of summer. That the thought of him never calling was a little devastating, no matter how sad that sounds. You miss his touch and want his eyes on you always. You’ve never had such a quick turnaround in opinion about anything. It’s selfish, really.

“I’m kind of a bad person,” he says slowly. It’s half warning, half realization.

“Good and bad are concepts from make-believe. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“So what do you worry about?” Frankie asks.

“Reality,” you say. “My whole life is centered around making other people believe in something fake. Concentrating on what’s real? That’s been keeping me sane lately.”

Mia’s words. Frankie’s attention. That tangible feeling of warmth, different but the same, when you are around both of them.

“And you’re real,” you say before he can ask. “A bit of a fuck up, but so am I.”

“That must be why we get along,” Frankie says.

“Must be.”

You want to add you’ll be okay to that list of real things. You need it. You’d kill for it. Silently, with your head against the pillow, you make a decision.

tags: @wannab-urs / @anoverwhelmingdin / @iamskyereads / @for-a-longlongtime

#pedrostories #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: the world tipped on its side

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hoonieswhore · 10 months

Text

XI. High Hopes

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Written chapter under the cut! It's divided on different days since it's kind of a time skip with some spice~ MDNI.

Word count: 3,5k

Warnings: The usual curses. Heeseung and Sunghoon are like kids. Mentions of drinking. The band is drunk lol. Joke about murdering someone. Smut. Kinda public sex. Unprotected sex (don't do it irl) Mentions of shower sex. Strength kink. Size kink. Belly bulge. Breeding. Dirty talk. Mentions of spit. Kinda fluff but there's a tiny bit of angst. Mentions of perv!Hoon (he's a bit of a perv, NGL)

Tuesday.

Sunghoon was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling as he kept thinking about last week, when you told him to stay as friends specifically. He wasn't just sad because you destroyed his delusion about getting in a relationship with you but also because his ego was crushed.

Sunghoon was used to being called handsome and pretty, he was used to being everyone's crush and having a lot of people begging him for just one chance. He had tons of fans who would die for one date with him, for the smallest chance, but here you were, sending him straight to the friendzone and that was something that didn't just hurt his heart but also his pride.

“Sunghoon, are you going to stay here for the rest of the day?” Heeseung asked, moving his hand and giving a sign to the model to move his feet and let him sit. “What else do you want me to do? I'm feeling miserable,” Sunghoon shrugged as he looked at his best friend.

“Dude please, you can't stay the whole day in the fucking couch, get some fresh air or something,” Heeseung got up, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him out of the couch. “Heeseung, what the fuck? Leave me alone!” Sunghoon yelled, holding onto the couch as Heeseung kept pulling his arm but the younger one was definitely stronger and he wasn't moving, not even a centimeter.

“Get up! Sunghoon!” you heard your roommate yelling as you opened the front door, finding your roommates fighting. “What are you guys doing? The neighbours will complain again,” you rolled your eyes and stared at the boys, crossing your arms.

Sunghoon pulled his arm away from the oldest and sat up as he quickly replied “Nothing!” Due to the model's moves, Heeseung fell on the couch, “He didn't want to get up,” he mumbled as he sat behind his friend, hitting the back of his head playfully. Sunghoon turned around and hit his arm, “Stop it,” he said, grabbing Heeseung's hands as he tried to hit him back. You laughed at them and shook your head as you separated them, sitting down between them to avoid more fights.

“What happened?” you asked, looking at Sunghoon, the boy opened his mouth but he was interrupted by Heeseung, “someone broke his heart and now he's miserable, that's why he didn't want to get up.” Right after he finished the sentence, a cushion landed right on his face.

“Alright, first of all, stop acting like kids or I'll kick you out.” you started, grabbing the cushion and hugging it tight as you shifted, comfortably sitting. “Second, bet you'll find someone soon, no need to be sad, Hoon!” you comforted him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you smiled at him.

Sunghoon felt like dying, he didn't want to be with anyone else, he wanted to be with you and now you were treating him like a friend. He wanted to cry but he wouldn't do it in front of you, so he put on his best smile as he nodded, “You're right yn, thanks.”

“That's what I've been telling you the whole fucking week,” Heeseung sighed and shook his head, “now if you don't mind,” he got up and smiled at both of you, “I need you both to leave the house, I invited someone over and we'll be pretty loud.” Sunghoon and you groaned, getting up as you both got ready to head out to different places.

Friday.

That night the band had a great show, the crowd loved the new songs and that was something that needed to be celebrated. Around two AM everyone was drunk, except for Sunghoon who offered to be the designated driver for the night.

Sunghoon watched the drunk band laughing and having a good time, a smile appeared on the figure skater's face as he noticed how happy they were. As soon as they left the bar, they got on Sunghoon's car who'd make the first stop at the bassist and drummer's place but it didn't go as planned.

When Sunghoon stopped in a red light, Jake was looking through the window, in his drunk state he saw a park with lots of games for children so he hit Sunghoon's shoulder, startling him as the Australian boy told him to stop the car. “Jake, don't do that when I'm driving!” the boy screamed in a high-pitched tone, earning a laugh from the rest of the band.

“I want to go to the swings!!” Jake pouted as the others laughed. Sunghoon obliged and parked across the street, they all got out and messed around in the games.

They spent more than an hour there, running around and playing as much as they could but their favourite games were the swings and the slide. The model laughed as he watched Jake getting chased by Jay, after he accidentally kicked him when the bassist walked too close to the swings.

“Enjoying the view?” he heard your voice behind him and turned around with a goofy smile. “Yeah, it's quite fun to see Jay trying to murder Jake,” he leaned against the swing's pole next to you, “are you having fun?” You giggled at him as you kept swinging back and forth in a slow pace so you could still talk to the tall boy. “Yeah, this is pretty fun, you should try it,” he shook his head as you got up to grab his hand, pulling him closer.

“Come on, Hoonie, try it! I'll push you!” The pout decorating your face made his heart pound against his chest, making the boy curse in his head as he thought how cute you looked. “Alright! Just because you asked nicely,” he said, before sitting on the swing, letting you push him as you both laughed.

Their night continued, filled with laughs and drunk talk until it was time for the stars to disappear as the sun started to rise again. Sunghoon was now driving home with his sleepy roommates after dropping the two boys off. Heeseung left one of his playlists and Sunghoon moved his head to the beat of a Twenty one pilots song that he recognised as Tear in my heart, as he drove.

On a red light, he stopped, biting down on his lip as he waited, which gave him time to take a quick glance to the passenger's seat where you were sleeping. He smiled softly and chuckled as the slow part of the song started, “you gotta be kidding me” he whispered to himself as he continued his way to the apartment as soon as the light switched to green.

Monday.

Your Monday didn't start in the best way, you had to wake up too early that morning since you had an appointment with your doctor.

The appointment went well but the waiting room was full of mothers and fathers with their children, some of them were quiet but most of them were screaming or crying as the parents tried to calm them down or distract them. You left the building with a headache as you made your way to one of your favourite cafes.

Once you arrived at your destination, you wanted to cry as you saw that it was absolutely packed, all the tables were taken and you got a seat after waiting for 15 minutes outside. Even though you ate your favourite dish and had a coffee, the noise in the place just made your headache worse, so you had to go home quickly after finishing your food.

As soon as you got home, you went straight to your bedroom, not wanting to talk to anyone and leaving your roommates with a confused expression as they looked at each other and they both shrugged. After a three hour nap, you felt better but you were hungry. You got out of your bedroom, forgetting that you grabbed the smallest shorts and a top that you had since you wanted to be comfortable in your sleep.

Sunghoon was peacefully eating his lunch but he almost choked on his water as he saw you wearing the shortest pants and a shirt that ended up right under your boobs. He felt the blood running to his cheeks and ears as he tried to keep his eyes on his plate.

“Hey Hoon,” you greeted as you grabbed some food. The boy gulped as he looked up at you, “Hey YN, everything okay? Heeseung was worried about you.” In fact, Heeseung wasn't truly worried, he knew that sometimes you just needed some time for yourself, Sunghoon was the worried one. “Yeah, I just had a headache but it's gone now,” you replied, sitting down next to him as you started to eat.

“That's great…” The boy replied, grabbing his own plate and getting up to leave it in the dishwasher, “I gotta go, I have a photoshoot!” Sunghoon ran to the bathroom, leaving you completely puzzled. Little do you know that the model was actually trying to hide the tent in his pants since his mind wouldn't leave him alone as he remembered how good he made you feel in that kitchen.

Wednesday.

Sunghoon knew that today was gym day, he grabbed everything he needed and headed out to his new gym. The gym was nearby but it was late so he decided to take his car. He always went pretty late, it was very private and usually he was the only one there. Except for tonight, of course.

As soon as Sunghoon got into the place, ready to start with his workout, he saw a familiar figure running on the treadmill.

“Didn't know you worked out here,” he said, making you turn your head to look at him. “Hoon, what are you doing here?” you asked him as you stopped running and took a long sip of water. “Well, I came to work out, I've been coming here since I moved,” he explained as he walked towards the equipment.

“I've never seen you here, though” Sunghoon said as he grabbed a dumbbell, starting with his workout. You gulped, watching the way his biceps flexed every time he lifted the dumbbell as you started to exercise too.

“I always come here early but today I was quite busy and I lost track of time,” you mentioned, earning a nod from Sunghoon before you both kept working in silence.

His company was quite nice but you couldn't stop looking at him, feeling your panties getting a bit wet every time you heard his groans or saw him biting his lip as he tried his best. After a few minutes, you started to notice how Sunghoon glimpsed at you from time to time, sometimes he looked at you through the mirror, hoping that you wouldn't notice.

“You're gonna hurt yourself,” he said, walking towards you, “may I?” You gave him a green light with a nod. The boy placed his hands on your hips, his fingers grazed your core, making the boy blush as he apologized before fixing your posture.

“T-there, now you won't get hurt,” the boy stuttered, taking his hands away from you as he set his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks Hoonie,” you mumbled, trying to follow his instructions but the tension was too strong.

You tried to keep working but you couldn't ignore the way that Sunghoon was looking at you, his eyes were locked on your ass and tits as he captured his lower lip between his teeth, hoping that you wouldn't notice his clothed dick getting hard every time he saw you doing a squat and begging that you were on top of him, with his cock buried deep inside you.

You stopped working and walked towards him, “Hoon, are you okay?” He stopped his exercise, looking down at you like a confused puppy, “Yeah, why are you asking?” Liar. Sunghoon knew very well that he wasn't fine at all, not when he had a boner and you were right in front of him. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert but he also wished that you dropped down to your knees and gave him the best head of his life again.

“Your face is too red, are you sure you're okay?” you asked worriedly, taking your hand to his forehead, trying to check his temperature and make sure that he wasn't running a fever. “Y-yeah, I'm fine,” he nodded, trying to think about something else as he avoided your gaze.

“Are you sure? I can take you home if you need to,” Take me to your bed and make me yours, he thought before shaking his head and clearing his throat. “I'm fine, don't worry," he nervously giggled, placing his hands on your wrists as he tried to put your hands away, “I'm okay, I promise.”

The model pulled your hands down but to his bad (or good) luck, your hand grazed the tent in his pants, making you instantly blush and gulp. “You're-” You whispered, watching the model bite down on his lip as he took his hands up to cover his face shyly.

“Sunghoon!” You heard him groan as you tried to pull his hands away from his handsome face. “Hoonie come on, stop,” the boy obliged, his eyes showing embarrassment as he started to apologize.

“I'm sorry, I need to go to the showers,” he tried to escape, running towards the men's bathroom and straight into the showers. You followed him, hating how wet you were after you confirmed that he was hard. “Sunghoon, let me help you,” your words were music to his ears, he never felt so lucky. “A-are you sure? Remember our conversation?” He wanted you but he also wanted to respect the boundaries that you set.

“Yes, I want to help you out, baby boy~” you cooed, taking one of your hands up to cup his cheek as the other traveled to his bicep. “Fucking hell, you look so good in those stupid shorts,” the model desperately said before crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss as his hands went down to your waist, massaging the soft flesh before he took them to your ass.

Sunghoon took advantage of the way you moaned and slid his tongue into your mouth, oh how he missed your taste. You followed his tongue as you both tried to dominate each other but neither of you wanted to lose the battle. The model kept massaging the soft flesh of your ass before taking one of his hands to the back of your thighs, his other hand spanking your ass cheek softly as a sign for you to jump. You obliged and he carried you as you both kept making out.

You suddenly felt cold as soon as your back hit one of the walls behind you, now Sunghoon was bucking his hips into your core, making you moan into his mouth. You pulled away from his lips as you kept moaning from the stimulation. The figure skater kissed down your jaw, reaching your neck and covering it with love bites and kisses as he kept grinding on you.

“H-Hoonie, please,” you whined, running your free hand through his soft locks as he marked you up. He let out a soft laugh, looking up at you with those pretty starry eyes, “what do you want baby girl?” he teased, leaving a soft peck on your lips.

“Just do something please, I need you,” the boy smirked at your words and nodded as he put you down for a second to discard your shorts and underwear. “Aw, look at this,” he faked a pout, “you got this wet from a little makeout, hm?” Sunghoon licked his lips before he took his gym shorts down along with his boxers, just enough to free his already hard cock.

He spat on his hand before spreading the spit on his shaft, lubricating his member as he started to jerk off. You whined at the image in front of you, Sunghoon already looked hot on a daily basis but seeing him jerking off as he stared at you in the bathroom of a gym, knowing that anyone could see you, made you feel dizzy and needy.

“Hoon, please, I want you so bad, love,” the pet name slipped out of your mouth just like that, you didn't even notice it but Sunghoon's heart did as the boy felt his heart racing. The model stopped his motions, pressing his forehead against yours as he whispered “You're gonna kill me one day, you know?”

He picked you up again with one hand as he aligned his cock with your entrance using his other hand. “Shit, you're already sucking me in baby girl,” he groaned, pushing his cock deeper inside you, “you feel so good.”

Sunghoon bit his lip as he lazily thrusted, not wanting to hurt you. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you moaned from the delicious stretch. “Sunghoon, baby, harder please,” you begged him as your vision got blurry from the tears.

“I don't want to hurt you baby girl,” he whispered and kissed your lips. “You won't, darling, please,” you leaned into his neck as you started to bite him, making him moan as his hips started to move on their own.

“Fuck baby, I'm gonna fuck you so good that you won't be able to walk back to the apartment,” those were his last words before he started to pound into you in a fast pace, making you moan louder as he groaned. Sunghoon kept one of his hands between your back and the wall, making sure that you weren't hurting your back as he kept pounding, picking up his pace sometimes to make you scream on his cock.

You dug your nails into the boy's back, making him grunt as his thrusts became deeper and harder. The model kissed you again but now the kiss was messy as you both couldn't stop moaning into each other's mouth.

After a few minutes, you pulled away from the kiss and accidentally looked down at your belly, letting out a gasp as you clenched your walls around his cock. “H-Hoonie, you're so fucking big, look,” the boy was slightly puzzled as he saw the bulge in your belly. He decided to thrust harder and deeper, confirming that it was actually his cock that was bulging on your stomach.

“Fuck, my angel is so tiny~” he cooed, “I wonder how'd you look when I fill you up with my cum,” his words made you whine as you felt your orgasm getting closer. “Yes please, want all of your load, Hoonie,” Sunghoon picked up his pace as you came undone, coating his cock with your juices as you hugged him tight.

His thrusts became sloppier as he kept pounding into you until he came, painting your walls white with his thick cum. Sunghoon groaned as he emptied his balls inside you, flopping his head on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he whispered in your ear, still in cloud nine from his release. “I missed you too, baby boy,” you replied, cupping one of his cheeks and pulling him into a soft kiss that made him feel like he was reaching heaven. After a long hug, with Sunghoon still buried inside you, he helped you to get cleaned.

Now you were in Sunghoon's car since you couldn't really walk after he fucked you again in the shower, using your body as a fleshlight. The only sound was the music from the radio, both of you were silent for a while as you didn't know exactly what to say.

“So..” the boy started, staring at the steering wheel, “now what?” You looked at him, nibbling on your bottom lip as you looked for the right words. “I don't know…” you whispered, “I mean… I'm confused.” Sunghoon gripped on the steering wheel before looking at you, “You're confused? Yn, you told me to stay as friends and now we fucked again… Twice!”

Sunghoon felt his heart pounding against his chest but this time he also felt nauseous since he didn't want you to send him to the friendzone again. “We cannot be friends and you know that,” he watched you gulp as you stood quiet, knowing that he was right.

“We can, we just… fucked at few times, that's all…” That's so stupid, you don't even believe that, you thought. “I've never missed someone as much as I missed you,” the boy confessed. “Hoon, I missed you too but… we should go home.” You cut him off, Sunghoon nodded as he started the car, trying to ease the situation with his usual dad jokes and trying to distract you.

Everything went perfectly fine since you spent the rest of the time laughing and talking about different things like nothing happened, except that your words stood in Sunghoon's mind for the rest of the day and that gave him even more hope that something with you could happen.

#//heavenly//#enhypen sunghoon smau #park sunghoon smau #sunghoon smau #park sunghoon au #sunghoon au #enhypen sunghoon au #park sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader

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