#lemme call my therapist i can't
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Sessions
Part One. Part ii and Sessions playlist is out now.
Summary: You’re König’s therapist, and he is utterly and dangerously obsessed with you. He will do anything and everything to make you his.
Warnings: Adult themes and language, plot with smut, smut smut smut, thigh riding (omg this is crazy) stalkerish!König, toxic!König, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, König is filthy…FILTHY, praising.
Words: 4.2K
A/N: I’ve played COD before but just a little so I have no clue about it all (LMAO) but anyways my fyp is invaded with König and Ghost, not complaining, so I decided to write a little something. I heard he’s unstable (?) and there’s a bunch of fics where he has a therapist so I was like…lemme write something like this. I will give credits to writers who’ve inspired me once I find their accounts because I lost them smh. So don’t thank me for this, thank them. Also thanks to Brittany Broski, my rightful leader, for talking about König on the Broski Report Podcast. Made me want to write him some more tbh. ALSO THE GIF??? So scary in the hottest way.
It’s been awhile since König’s last therapy session with you, and it’s been driving him crazier by the minute. He realized now, just how much he wants you, how much he desperately needs you.
——
Weeks turned into days, then hours, minutes, and then seconds. Every tick of the clock had König going mental. The thought of not spending those seconds with you drove him mad and drove him with such urgency to have you by him. To be inside of you, at that.
Fists clenched then unclenched, König couldn't stand it any longer. Desperation ran in his veins like a predator watching their prey. He wanted nothing else but to see what you were up to, and visiting your home, was just the solution to his thoughts and needs.
(…)
It's been a few weeks since your appointment with König, and you're growing concerned. You look at the empty chair in your office, that's been sitting lonely for quite a few weeks. He hasn't called or informed you on why he's been absent, and you're sure he never will
In all honesty, you have no clue why you're so upset about it. Upset about a client who's been absent for weeks too much to count. Maybe it's because you can't help him anymore, well—not anymore, he's still your client. But the mere fact that he's not there to tell you about his problems and stories, or how his day was, bothered you.
Sure, he has things to do. So much more important than meeting up with your therapist right? Surely not, you want to help König to the best of your ability—but he made it so difficult.
You get a phone call that snaps you out of your haze, you pick it up. Only to hear a client of yours on the phone bringing their appointment up, which is today. "Yes! Today at six, correct." You assured, sitting down promptly on your office chair. You're glad you have clients today, something that'll keep you busy.
(…)
König is sitting outside in his car in the rain. The pattering of the rain took over his rather obsessive thoughts. Not only was he in the car alone, but he was right outside your home.
He peeks through your window, seeing only a dim light through the blinds of your house. His chest rose as he took a deep breath, chuckling to himself about how insane this all is. Going all out for your therapist? Never would he have thought to be doing such thing, but he can't help his desires.
He sighs, he gets the urge to exit his car and step foot inside your house and it made him feel dizzy. The thought of just stepping foot inside your property and seeing the items, the furniture—and so forth—that belonged to you. Something you've chosen out and purchased for yourself, with love. Now that, drove him on edge.
He finally exits his car, slamming it shut behind him. The rain drops hit his huge frame and he takes bigger steps to the front of your house. Eager to see the place you call home. The place you eat, sleep, and breathe in. It's all insane, he thought, but he's König. Insanity doesn't faze him.
"Fucking hell, the fuck am I doing?" He chuckled to himself as he somehow manipulated his way into your house. His wet boots are off and placed on the rug that says, "welcome" which is funny in this situation.
He looks around the well kept home, the dimly lit kitchen and living room, as well as the deliciously scented candle that's lit in the living room. Smells like you, coconut and bliss. He takes it in, like the maniac he is.
There was nothing really intriguing to the eye in your home, it's simple and basic, but still very homey. You had your favorite comics on the tv table and the tv was obviously shut off, books were stacked against the bookshelf and a few magazines were on the tables. You love to read, guess that's new information for König to keep to himself.
His big frame hovers over your iPad, without hesitation, he opened it. There wasn't a passcode, just a simple press of the home button and he was in, it wasn't like you had anything to hide and König found amusement in that. König chuckled, there was simply nothing on the iPad besides dates on your calendars that showed you have appointments throughout the month.
"Busy little one, aren't you, Mein Schatz?" He breathed through his mask, though he took it off for the time being, there was no reason to hide himself through a mask when home alone.
He misses you, and it's getting more painful not having you there with him, in your home. He's wondering what you're up to now, and how much time he has left before that lock of your front door turns.
It's a bad idea, he's already seen everything he wanted to see, and now it's time to leave.
Quickly, he puts his wet boots back on and turns the door knob slowly. He looks back at your place and then smiles, this surely won't be the last time he's inside. And he'll make sure it'll be the both of you inside the home at the same time.
(…)
"Anything else you'd like to share, Ghost?" You question Ghost, his eyes telling you so much he hasn't said yet, and you doubt he'll tell you more. You wish he'd say more though, but you're actually proud of today’s session. He shared more than the other sessions, that's always a huge milestone.
"No." He said sternly, his British accent thick and his voice gravely. "Okay great. I'll see you next week then?" He cleared his throat and walks to the door, "busy."
"So when are you able to?" You wonder, "I'll call when I can." He opens the door from your office and leaves. You sigh, at least you tried to the best of your abilities. You close your notebook shut, putting the notebook back into your drawer as you finally set the pen down after.
So, where we're you again? Ah, it's time to go home. Finally.
Well—not just yet. As you're getting your things ready to leave, you hear your office phone ring. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to who's calling this late, all sessions are...closed.
"Hello?" You question, hearing heavy breathing over the phone—you shudder. "Schatz, it's me." The German accent rolled off the man's tongue over the phone, your heart dropped in response. König.
"K-König?" You stuttered, in disbelief at the sudden call. "Mhm, I'm calling to apologize for not coming to our sessions but if I'm being honest...I want to have a session soon this week." He explained over the phone, your brows scrunched.
You're free this week, no sessions left, well one session now. It surprised you that König chose to call you so late over an appointment, but it didn't bother you, just—stunned you. "Of course, when would you like-" König interrupts you suddenly, "tomorrow." He breathed, his voice lower than usual. Laced with huskiness and exhaustion, and need.
Tomorrow? You can't turn that down, because you know that if you do, he won't come to another session for a long time—you feared. You clear your voice over the line, heart beating faster by the second and you're not sure as to why. Must be the sudden urge to come to a session, or maybe because he wants it soon. It's not like you're busy tomorrow or anything, but the mere fact that you'll see König after God knows how long made you nervous.
Something must be wrong, you're sure of it.
"Sure! Tomorrow at two, promise me you'll be there?" He never breaks promises, not with you he doesn't. He agrees over the phone, and the date is officially set. Grabbing your pen you just placed down, you take your König's personal journal and write the date down for tomorrow.
(…)
He was trying to stay composed but it's getting hard. His desires have become more stronger by the minute, and he wanted nothing more than to have you by him.
He ended the call, smirking under the mask after finally hearing your soft voice over the phone. You invaded his mind like a virus he's unable to get rid of, but in all honesty he doesn't want to get rid of it. He would stare at pictures of you all day, and the thought that bothers him the most—the one that boils his blood—is knowing that you have sessions with other men that's not him. Most of them he despises, the other ones he's not really worried about, since well—they're his friends.
It's almost sickening how much he wants you, how much he deeply needs you. Now, König sits on his bed. Mask off and so is his shirt. Revealing nothing but his well crafted muscles and his mind going hundreds of miles per hour of just you.
And to fix that "issue" he takes his rough right hand and puts it underneath his sweats, and then under the hem of his boxers. Finally, he grabs his thick cock tightly and leans his head back. Nothing but images of you holding his dick for him instead, and that just about does it for him. Quickly, he starts to slowly stroke up and down, groans fill the silent room. His strong hand grips the sheets of his bed, the delicate fabric became victim to his touch.
The rings in his ear became louder as he swiped his thumb over his tip that was already leaking, everything around König became a blur as he thought of you continuously. He's never been this obsessed with someone until he met you. He gripped onto his dick harder and his body starts to burn with flames too powerful to put out—and his heart beats quicker.
He's closer to his high than ever, throwing his head back due to the aching pleasure that consumed him. His eyes look at the ceiling, all that hunts his mind is you. You hunt him every second of his day, even when it's König hunting for you. His insides began tightening, the way his cock began to throb in his hand and how his precum brushes against his calloused fingers when his hands move to his sensitive area.
He lets out a final grunt as he looks at the mess he made in his lap, wishing you were there to clean it all up. His orgasm hit him harder than ever, and his breath is shaky. Stunned at how good you made him feel, it wasn't him that made himself feel good, no—it was you. All of it.
He tensed at first, letting rope after rope of his come dirty his abs and sheets. "Look at what you fucking do to me, Liebe." He whispered, beads of sweat roll off his forehead.
(…)
The next day passed, the day König booked his session to see you. Of course he wanted to talk to you about what's going on, but he mostly made the appointment to see you. It's been a long long time. He puts on his uniform and mask, getting all ready for his missions and well—seeing you.
——
You hear a knock. A knock so familiar and it wasn't just like any other knocks from your clients. König had a habit of knocking exactly four times, and it's a habit he has with you. You shout, "welcome in!" as you take your notebook and pen out. You put your glasses on and present yourself professionally.
König's huge frame stands before you, and you gasped. It's been so long since you've last seen him, you’re now practically strangers. "König! You're here." You proclaimed, welcoming him with a simple hand motion to the chair. "Hello, Mein Schatz." He greets, his voice husky. He looks at you through his eyes, investigating the way you sit professionally and have everything well kept and neat. It almost bothered him, in a good way.
You broke the tension with a question, “anything new?” He continued taking a good look at you, hungrily. It doesn’t show through his mask, but his eyes tells you everything you need to know.
You cleared your throat, waiting for König’s response. “I don’t like the new addition to the missions.” He said sternly, his fists clench and you could tell that bothered him to the extreme. “Why is that? Do you perhaps think they’re weak and unnecessary?” You queried.
He shifts in his spot, “Ja, I don’t like unnecessary addictions. I find it a nuisance.”
“Is it because you prefer having the men you’re familiar with more.. than the new men looking to work the same missions as you?” He prompts his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to the conversation. He is clearly interested in answering. “Yes. Exactly. We don’t need anymore men, we have quite enough of them.” His German accent is thicker, deeper. Cutting through like knife to butter. Your pen wrote down his answers as well as your thoughts in the notebook.
He watched you like a hawk, looking at you closely while you do your job. “Is there anything else, König?” You wonder, his dull eyes sparkled when he hears you say his name. “Hm,” he voiced, “you.”
Your brows furrow at his answer, you cross your legs and place your pen down. Unsure of what he means, and well of course, the therapist you are, you think maybe he has something he needs to say about you. “Did I do something wrong?” You stammered, unable to look him in his piercing gaze.
He chuckled, and you think maybe you embarrassed yourself with such question. “No, Mein Schatz, I need you.” He put forth. Your stomach drops at his answer, crimson red swipes across your cheek and you feel as though you’re going to pass out.
Never in a million years would you have thought to hear König admitting to the fact that he needs you. It stunned you in all honesty.
“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, Ich werde verrückt.” He points his index finger to his head, “what does that mean?” You question. The part where he spoke in German, you wonder what he means.
He stood up, and you scooted your chair back in response. “It means I’m going crazy, Liebe, you drive me crazy.” König voiced.
You mistook his answer, mistook it thinking that you made him crazy in the worst way possible. “I-I’m sorry, we can gladly stop our sessio-“ he interrupts you, and it’s not the first time.
“Ts ts, I don’t want to. I meant,” he paused, then began, “you drive me crazy with need.” He explained.
You never knew you made him feel that way, and you look around the office just thinking about how unprofessional this all is. “König, when would you like your next session?” You dismissed what he said earlier, you just need to recollect yourself. Your feelings, thoughts and emotions. He just looks at you, quietly.
You walk to the door, and he walks behind you. Each step he took was heavy—and loud, sending shudders throughout your body. He stood behind you, the heat radiating from his body and on to yours.
His right arm reaches out for the doorknob and your heart dropped into a million pieces. God, he knew how to make anyone nervous.
He opens the door for you, and he finds himself out first, but before he does, he says something. “Next week, Friday.” He states, and then walks out of your office.
You take deep breaths, like you’ve been choked and you’ve lost all oxygen. You’ve realized now, just how much König’s little actions made you feel hundreds of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
(…)
König steps foot inside your office. It’s Friday, and what happened the last session felt like it happened yesterday. His mind is all you, it’s all its ever been. Now he will use this opportunity to his dismay. “Hello, König.” You greet professionally, seated on your black chair.
König takes a careful look at you, he misses you immensely although it’s been a week. He noticed your outfit. Your tight black skirt that hugged your curves perfectly, and your white button up accentuating your breasts. He could open your legs wide right then and there and devour you like he hasn’t eaten in days, he’s drooling at the thought.
You turn to speak, and his entire attention shifts to your plump lips. And of course, König’s mind is filled with dirty thoughts. Too lewd to think out loud.
“Is there anything in particular that you would like to discuss today?” Your soft voice made his ears ring, and he couldn’t help the bulge forming in his pants. König wanted to admit that you’ve been on his mind, but he held himself back and contained it. “I’ve just been stressed.” He admits, and it’s true. All the mission stuff had him drained by the second.
“Oh? And why is that?” You questioned, he manspreads on your couch in the office, using the space to sit comfortably. His long legs and big thighs were spread apart, making it a perfect seat for you to sit on, is what he’s thinking. You gulp at the sight in front of you, and he takes his time with his answer.
“I don’t know, honestly. There’s just something new everyday.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
You get up from your seat and prompt yourself next to him. His knees touching yours, and your actions shocked König—just a tad. That’s a lie, it shocked him, a lot.
He wanted to fulfill his fantasies right there, he had you in his sight and reach, but again—containing himself. “Talk to me, König.” You comfort, rubbing small circles on his hand. The action caused him to flinch, but he doesn’t say anything—yet.
After a few seconds, he answers, “I got into a fight with a lieutenant. I’d rather save that for another session.” Groaned König. “Okay, if that makes you comfortable.” You drawl, “how about coming to three sessions in a row? When would you like your next appointment?” You made sure to ask if there was anything else, but to your surprise—there wasn’t.
“Today.” He states sternly, you’re confused. “It’s already today, König?” You trailed off, dissociating at his answer. “I know, Liebe, I want our session to begin today.”
“But we’ve already finished our session for today.” You argued, all that König had contained was finally let out. He grabs his hand and wraps it around your throat, his actions made you let out a loud gasp, and with that—König lifts his mask up and kisses you.
You instinctively kiss him back, aware of how unprofessional this all is, but oddly enough—you didn’t really care.
König groans against your hot mouth, sending vibrations down your entire body. König felt like he was in a dream, finally kissing you didn’t feel real, you tasted too good to be real. He finally has you in his reach, and in his mouth. Your scent overtook his senses, and it drove him right over the edge. He could fall off and die happily, knowing he’s finally tasted you.
You deepen the kiss, and he bit your bottom lip in return, alerting you to open your mouth wider and let him in. He wants to devour you whole and you just let it happen. His tongue finds yours, and there you both are, kissing each other so roughly. His grip on your neck tightens just a little, not too hard, still allowing you to breathe. Though the kiss had you suffocating already.
More, more, more. Is what König says to himself in his mind, but you let go of the kiss. String of saliva leaves his mouth as you let go. Oxygen had left your body entirely, and you’re there gasping for air. You wouldn’t be surprised to see if your lips had been bruised from the rough and deep kiss. You’ve never been kissed like that before, or ever.
The both of you pant, you can’t believe what just happened. You’ve fully realized what he meant earlier, insisting he has another session. This is the session, and you don’t think it’s going to end soon. “Come here.” He ordered, patting his thigh. Your eyes dart to his big thighs, thighs that could crush you if he wanted to.
You did as he said, sitting right down on his right leg, in your point of view—to your left. He holds your waist tightly, balancing you so you don’t fall. Though you’re already holding onto his broad shoulders for support. “Why do you have me like this?” You question, flustered. König loves to see it, to see you flustered even though you never tried to admit it. He had that power.
“Liebe, do you know just how much I crave you? How much I’ve wanted to see you like this…?” he began, “you’re going to do as I say, right?” He asked lowly. You nod, heat rushing throughout your entire body from his needy words. You never knew how much he needed you, and it actually hit you. König, out of all people.
Secretly, you loved that. His desperation made you admire him, it must’ve been so difficult to contain such desires and feelings. Unaware of what he’ll say or do next, you wait. Patiently.
“Ride me, Mein Schatz.” Your mouth gaped open at his words, his fingers dug deep into your skirt, so deep you’re afraid it’ll leave a bruise. “K-König, what?” In disbelief, you stay still. You’ve never done anything of the sort, for fucks sake, you’re a virgin. König doesn’t know that—yet. Though you plan on telling him. And you plan on telling him now.
“I’ve never done this before, I’m a virgin, König.” You murmured lowly, but still loud enough for him to hear. “Oh, meine Prinzessin,” he looks at you like some prized treasure you are. His prized treasure that he wanted to display for the world to see. “Do you want to do this?” He consented, you look at him with eyelids so heavy.
You’re more than sure you want to do this with him, virginity isn’t a game, and you knew that. He knew that too. But you want to give it to König and you’ve already confirmed it before saying anything.
“I…I do.” You cup his face, hidden back underneath his mask. “I can’t go on if you’re not sure, liebe, tell me—do you want to do this?” He repeats his question, and you want to shout at his face the word yes, but you remain calm. “I really do, König. Show me the real you.”
“Want me to show you?” His accent is stronger laced with hunger, pulling you closer to him. He got the affirmation he needed, and you nod in assurance. He grabs your hips at once, and slowly moves them back and forth. Your brows furrow at the feeling of your soaked panties grinding against his rough combat pants. The new feeling had you addicted and König loves to see you fall apart little by little.
His cock ached and pressed harder against his pants as your hands grip onto his broad shoulder, tighter. The friction from his pants and your grinding made you let out a moan you didn’t know you were capable of making. A moan König could only hear in his head, except it became reality, and König was trapped in a haze. He saw the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips pout as he helped you ride it out.
“So beautiful.” He huffs, pulling you back and forth even faster. You could feel your stomach twist into knots, alerting you that your orgasm is near, but riding against his thigh wasn’t enough. You needed more. “K-König…please.” You whimpered out, he tilts his head, getting the hint.
“Please what? Mein Schatz?” It felt like he was teasing you, but maybe he just needs to know what you’re saying please for. “Touch me.” You demand, desperately needing his rough and big fingers to touch you. “Ohhh darling, you don’t have to ask me twice.” He does just as you asked, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb on your clothed cunt. He smiled under his mask at how wet you are.
The bundle of nerves formed tightly, forming at the very pit of your stomach. Flames ran through your veins and your body burned with lust. You found it difficult to hold his gaze as your orgasm is nearing. “You’re too good to me, liebe, you’re doing so good.” He praised, his eyes focused on your motions and he could just come at the sight of that. “K-König! I’m going to-“ he interrupts you, grabbing your hips with both of his hands and moves you back and forth impossibly faster.
“Come, schön, be a good fucking girl for me and let it out. I know you can do it.” He grunts, talking you through it. His praising and words of encouragement did just enough for you to reach your high. It felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, and your legs shook. It was all too much to bare, and you still rode it out.
“Attagirl, wasn’t so hard now was it, meine Liebe?” He appeals, holding your waist still as you tried to regain every last bit of dignity left with each inhale and exhale. “You think we’re done yet? Oh love, we’re just getting started.”
——
NOTE: This is just part 1 peeps, I honestly thought it was getting a bit too long (imo) so I thought—hey—why not turn this into a mini series? Hehe. Stay tuned for part 2, coming very soon. Also, if you’d like to be in my tag list, it’d be my pleasure. Just let me know in the comments. (Btw, English is definitely not my first language…so if there are any grammatical errors and mistakes, please let me know in the comments so I can fix them.)
:)
#call of duty#call of duty mwii#cod mw2#könig smut#könig modern warfare#könig mw2#fanfic#ao3feed#könig fanfiction#könig x you#könig#könig x reader#könig call of duty#könig cod#konig#smut#i am delusional#i cried while making this#könig headcanons#cod mw fanfiction#fanfiction#fiction
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Tim is totally not a hero AU
He definitely isn't. Definitely.
Like, okay, maybe Batman got a little violent and maybe Dick was being a butt and not going back to Gotham to at least hover over Batman's shoulder disapprovingly, and MAYBE Tim had taken it upon himself to cobble together some dark clothes and a discarded kevlar vest and just like. Stalk Batman. Just a little.
Just enough to pop up and ask really loudly when he started going too far "BATMAN ARE YOU GONNA KILL HIM? IN FRONT OF A CHILD?" full of exaggerated gasps.
Maybe he memorizes Batman's patrol route and uses it to terrorize the man into not beating people to death.
Like, Batman starts getting a little too into it and suddenly there's a child's squeaky voice shouting shit like "hit him with the chair!" or "I can't believe I'm about to watch someone die in real time! Hold on a minute lemme get tiktok pulled up!" or "Hi Batman how is it-stop trying to catch me! I'm helping you whether you like it or not!"
Perhapsest once Batman starts calming the fuck down, Tim decides to use his cobbled together suit when he goes out to take pictures of crimes and hand them over to Gordon.
So what if people started calling him a weird moniker? Alright, maybe he responds to it sometimes, but like. He's not a hero.
He isn't!
Even if the other Leaguers keep saying he is!
Basically Tim is a feral totally-not-a-hero hero and everyone but him and Batman recognize that they're partners.
This leads to many confusing situations.
Jason guns for Tim?
"Literally why are you after me I don't even know you."
"Batman replaced me-!"
"No? He hasn't had a kid sidekick or adopted a kid since. Go talk to a therapist, not me."
"But you're the replacement?"
"But I'm not?"
"But you're everywhere he is?"
"Yeah, because I'm better than him and he needs Help."
followed by staring at each other like dogs that were barking at each other until you opened the gate, and now they're kinda like "idk what to do now"
Or
"Hey kid, think you can convince your dad to not do this stupid plan?
"???My dad is in Cairo?"
"What? Batman's in the Tower?"
"Batman's not my dad?"
"Your...mentor, then."
"He wishes he was."
or
"How's it going, Tim? Haven't seen you on patrol lately!"
"Why are you talking to me, you literally told me to fuck off when I tried to get you to help stop your quasi-dad from killing people."
"Well, you're B's new partner, so I figured-"
"He can't afford me."
"What?"
"Did I stutter?"
#tim drake#batman#story prompt#maybe more like#story idea#hmmmmmm#tim drake au#don't even know what they'd call him#shadow for shadowing Batman?#Menace for terrorizing Batman?#Cricket like jiminy cricket for stopping batman from killing like how jiminy cricket acts like a conscience#idk#all good ideas tho
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Daddy Morales pt. 3 Frankie!Morales x f!Reader
Daddy Morales pt 2
Rating: 18+ (seriously young ones, this AIN'T for you)
Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!reader babysitter (in her mid 20's)
Tags: switch!Frankie, daddy kink, dirty talk, infidelity, phone sex but not, masturbation, dry (but also wet?) humping,
A/n: Happy Frankie Friday!
More Frankie x babysitter smut because y'all are askin' for it. I feel real amused that my two most commented on series right now are the sleazebag ones.
=============================
Part 3: No More
Frankie decides to end things the next time he drives you home the following week.
He hasn't fucked you, not actually sheathed himself in your pussy and he convinces himself that this isn't as bad. That he hasn't technically cheated.
But he never confesses to Carmen. What good would it do? Carmen insists they start up with marriage counseling and Frankie agrees.Their marriage counselor says he and Carmen need to work on communication. On making more time for each other's interests. On being kinder to one another.
When he tells you all of this he expects you to be upset. To scream or cry. But you do neither. You listen to him and you nod and you kiss his cheek and tell him you understand.
Frankie drives home that night relieved and yet confused.
You don't try anything when he drives you home after babysitting the following week. Or the week after that. You simply say thank you and leave the truck.
He can't stop thinking about you though. He's taken to jerking off in bed next to Carmen when she sleeps or coming in the shower with a muffled groan.
When he sees your number pop up on his phone later that month his cock actually stiffens under his jeans.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mister Morales, I'm really sorry I'm just hoping that you could come look at my sink? It's backed up. I've asked all my friends but none of them are free and I don't have the money to get a plumber out here."
"Yeah of course," Frankie says, hearing the panic in your voice. "I'll come over right away."
He heads home to grabs his toolbox. Carmen is sitting in the kitchen feeding Luca. She glances over when she sees Frankie hoisting the red box from under the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Carmen asks, her face troubled. "Did you forget we're meeting friends for dinner tonight?"
"’Course not," Frankie insists. "Just one of my old buddies sink is fucked and I'm going to help him out. I'll be back in plenty of time."
"That's really sweet of you to help your friend," Carmen says remembering what the therapist said about giving Frankie more compliments. She stands and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Shame hangs over Frankie like a cloud as he drives over to your place. He remembers what happened the last time he was there and he knows it can't happen again. He needs to give his marriage another shot.
///
You're wearing a short dress and your feet are bare.
That’s the first thing Frankie notices when you open the door, grinning brightly as you greet him.
"You look nice," Frankie says, eyes sliding over your body as he walks into your space.
"Thanks I have a date," you say with a tense smile. "And thanks again for doing this. It's just there in the kitchen."
A date? Frankie hides his displeasure as you lead him into the kitchen.
You hold in a sigh as Frankie opens his toolbox and starts making noise there. His back muscles ripple as he kneels down and peers under your sink.
"I'll leave you," you breathe. "Just lemme know if you need me for anything."
You leave, trying to stop the thrumming between your legs.
Frankie leans back under the sink on his back now, looking for the leak. He spots it fairly quickly, grateful it's not a complicated job.
"Okay I need you to turn on the tap," Frankie calls out. "Need to make sure of something."
He hears you padding over. His eyes dart down to see your bare legs brushing his. You're standing hovered above his torso. His eyes travel up your bare thighs and Frankie holds in a moan when he sees your red panties fully on display under the dress. They cling to the outline of your pussy, delicious and beckoning.
"Is it working?" you ask curiously when Frankie goes quiet.
"Mhmm," Frankie nods, willing his cock to go down. "You can turn it off now."
You turn it off and walk back into the other room as Frankie tries to steady his breathing. But he can't stop thinking about those red panties. Frankie starts as his phone vibrates.
You on your way home??
Soon. Taking longer than expected
Kk. I'll just meet you at the restaurant
see you there
When he sees that the leak has been fixed and the tube tightened properly he knows he can leave. And yet he hesitates.
Don't do it.
"Just need ya to turn it on again," Frankie croaks loudly.
"Okay," you call back from the other room.
You walk back over, short skirt flipping around your hips. Again you step over him to reach the tap and again he takes the opportunity to stare at your barely covered pussy.
Frankie is laying under the sink thinking about how you're going on a date tonight. How another man is going to get to taste that cunt and it infuriates him.
You turn on the sink, legs spread as you wait for him to tell you to turn it off. Instead Frankie's hand goes to your leg, reveling in its silken texture.
"You look really nice babygirl," Frankie murmurs, his hand skimming up your calf. "Really pretty."
"You already said that," you reply shakily before moving out of Frankie's grip. Frankie can see the way your thighs press together.
"Thanks for looking at the sink" you say, smiling gently down at him. "Uh, I'm just gonna finish getting ready. Let me know if you need anything else from me."
He knows what he wants from you. What he can't have.
Frankie gathers his tools and tells himself he's going to leave. That he did this favor for you and now he has to go. But he hears the sound of you giggling in your bedroom and he follows the noise.
You're standing faced away from him looking out the window. Your cell phone is pressed to your ear.
"Yeah I'm really excited," you say, twirling your hair around your finger. You giggle into the phone and Frankie feels his stomach twist.
"Okay see you later."
You end the call and turn to see Frankie standing awkwardly in the doorframe to your bedroom.
"I'm finished up," he tells you before smiling weakly.
"Thank you so much," you tell him. Before he can stop you, you've thrown your arms around his neck. You hug him tightly and he responds immediately by wrapping his arms around you.
"I don't know what I would have done without your help. I really couldn't afford a plumber right now."
"It's no problem," Frankie assures you, still rocking you gently in his arms. "Always glad to help ya."
You hum against his neck in response and Frankie feels his resolve begin to slip. It's like he can't help himself from sliding his hands from your waist over the globe of your ass.
You don't move away, you just melt against him. His hands bring up the skirt to your waist before sliding back and feeling the smooth skin of your ass as he grabs handfuls.
The skin is so smooth and warm. He cups both cheeks in his hand, pulling them apart and watches over your shoulder as they fall back when he releases them.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Frankie murmurs as he begins to rub his front against yours.
"Doesn't feel like nothing." You sigh against his jaw. "Feels like you're waiting for something."
"For what?"
Frankie watches you slowly get down on your knees for him.
"My mouth, Daddy."
Frankie watches from under lowered lids as you begin to unzip his jeans. He feels his breathing constrict when you take him out of his boxers and his cock hangs there in front of you. It's already hard, brushing against your lower lip.
"Yeah," Frankie breathes. "I was-"
Frankie feels his pocket suddenly vibrate as a text comes through.
Carmen.
Suddenly the enormity of what he's doing is upon him and he panics.
"I'm sorry," Frankie stammers, trying to pull away. "This was a bad idea, I never should've-"
But he can't say anything more because your mouth has found the tip and begun to lightly lick.
"Just wanted to thank you for fixing my sink," you say between licks. Frankie whimpers when your mouth parts and you take his cock into your mouth, moaning as you do.
Frankie feels his head tilting back and he grabs the doorframe for support as all the blood in his body rushes between his legs.
"Fuck.... Babygirl your mouth ..." Frankie groans as you suck him deeper. "So good."
His eyes crack open and he holds in a sigh when he sees you there on your knees with your eyes looking up at him, pretty mouth stuffed full. He wants to enjoy it more but his pocket is vibrating again. Frankie stiffens all over, panic swirling.
Not thinking he pulls it from his pocket and you pull off of him, irritated.
Where are you?
Before he can reply you take the phone from him and toss it under the bed. Frankie watches it vibrate a moment before you're back licking him.
"Carmen is waiting for me," Frankie explains, feeling helpless as your hand slides up under his t-shirt to splay across his belly, relishing in the hard curve there.
"She can wait."
"Babygirl, I have to leave," Frankie whimpers, watching your mouth bob along his cock. He hisses when you pull off of him, your mouth wet with saliva.
"You really wanna go?" You ask dragging your tongue along his shaft. Frankie whimpers when your tongue flicks the underside of the head.
"I should-"
"You don't wanna fuck my mouth?" You ask, mouth sucking the tip lightly. "You don't wanna come on my tongue?"
"I fucking do," Frankie almost whines, knowing he has to leave but now you've started bobbing your head as you stroke the base of him.
"Don't go then," you say around his cock. "Need you here."
You’re so fucking good at this. Your mouth and tongue are making him dizzy with need.
"Okay baby," Frankie relents, hips rocking towards you. "Just can't fuck you with my cock."
You smile nodding and when he comes down your throat moments later you swallow deeply and grin up at him.
"Let's lay in bed for a bit," you say, finger curling into the neck of his t-shirt and tugging him to the bed. He follows after you like a puppy, no hesitation in him whatsoever. He’s so fucking easy sometimes.
You’ve set up a mirror against the wall across from your bed. Frankie notices this when he crawls onto the bed next to you. It makes him wonder if you’d planned to bring your date back here tonight to fuck in front of it. The thought flames his insides with a roaring jealousy.
You tell him to strip and you lean back against your headboard. That's when you decide you want him to lay back against you like before, nestled between your legs. You tell him to make himself come for you.
He does twice.
It's a while of this before you decide you need a water break.
"If I leave now I can still make dessert," Frankie tells you tired and panting and covered in his own spend.
"I'm not done playing," you say pouting and stroking your hand through his curls. His baseball hat lies on the floor beside your bed, forgotten between rounds.
"I'm already two hours late," Frankie insists. You give his hair a tug and he groans in pleasure. "My wife-"
"Isn't here," you tell him as you position yourself to sitting over his lap. Frankie lets you maneuver his wrists above his head, looking up at you with glazed dark brown eyes.
"You really wanna leave, Daddy?"
"I need to baby," Frankie says groaning gently as your hips roll over his. "I've been here for hours."
"Who do you really want to be with tonight?"
"You," Frankie says it without even thinking. It comes rushing out like a released breath of much needed air.
You smile victorious. You pull your dress up over your head, leaving you naked save for your panties. Frankie groans aloud at the sight of your exposed body, hands twitching at his sides.
"Daddy I don't think you want to leave," you tell him as you slowly twist until you're on his lap facing away from him.
"I don't," Frankie echoes, feeling his hardening cock balanced against the outside of your panties. He can feel the damp heat between your legs and he groans. His hands fly to your waist, squeezing gently.
"No" you tell him, hips rolling over him. "You don't. You wanna keep laying there feeling my pussy."
Frankie is transfixed by the way you're arching for him. His eyes go to the mirror on the opposite wall, watching your bare tits bouncing as you undulate against him.
"I-I can’t fuck you, baby."
"I'll keep my panties on," you tell him in a hush as you glance over your shoulder at him. "Then its okay, I promise."
You shuffle backwards, ass dragging over the head of his stiffened cock. Frankie moans as you start to roll your hips. He can feel your sweet wet cunt under the fabric.
"Shouldn't be doing this," Frankie murmurs even as he thrusts up lightly between your ass cheeks, his cock rubbing harshly against the lace of your panties.
"But you are," you tell him, your voice breathy. "And you're not gonna stop are you?"
Frankie watches his cock slide between your clothed ass cheeks, looking debauched but delicious.
"She's waiting for me."
"You're already late," you groan as his cock moves against the panties giving delicious friction. A bright red slash of lace against his rigid cock. "No point."
Frankie's cock throbs as you moan, your ass swirling against it. He grabs handfuls of your ass in his broad hands, gripping it and marveling at how enticing it looks in his palms. He gives your left cheek a swift snap, drawing a quaking groan from you.
"You're so fucking hot," Frankie grunts. "Lemme go under babygirl."
"Said you couldn't fuck me, remember?"
"Just a little, just to feel you. Won't go all the way in," Frankie pleads. "Daddy needs it."
You look at him over your shoulder, eyes half lidded in desire. Frankie feels like his body is on fire.
"Just a little under," you tell him, arching, bouncing your ass on his hips. "Not too much."
"Thank you, thank you," Frankie pants, as he tugs your panties to the side.
You give a needy whimper just as your phone begins to ring. Frankie is distracted as you lean over to grab it from your side table. You look at the number and give a little giggle.
"Better keep quiet, Daddy," you tease just as you hit the speakerphone button and Frankie looks up.
“What’re-”
"Hi Mrs. Morales," you say cheerfully, watching Frankie's eyes go wide from over your shoulder and he loses his hold on your panties. He goes to pull back but your ass drops, pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.
"Hi," Carmen says and Frankie can hear the sound of the restaurant in the background. "Is now a good time?"
Frankie shakes his head no but you just drag your pussy over the head of his cock slowly, the head catching the edge of the panties and allowing him to graze a sliver of your bare cunt. Frankie holds in a groan of pleasure at the sensation. He's never been this close to it.
"Yeah now's a great time."
"I know you're sitting for us on Saturday but I wanted to know if you're free on Wednesday as well?" Carmen asks. "I'm trying hot yoga that night, it's just from seven to eight but I figure I'll go out for drinks with the girls after."
You make a humming noise as you listen. Frankie keeps his hands on your ass, trying not to thrust but finding it impossible when he can feel how wet you are. You grip him, holding him in place as you slide the seam of your cunt along his cock. He watches your ass bounce against him, looking so good.
"Mr. Morales isn't around?" You say, keeping your voice even as you start to rub your clothed pussy over Frankie's cock more aggressively. He tries to pull back, tries to stop himself but then Frankie feels you tug your panties to the side and now his head hits the wet slit of your cunt.
Heaven.
He tilts back into the pillow as he slides along it, you shifting just enough to make sure he can't enter you. Carmen is a distant memory, his cock absolutely throbbing as you glide along him.
"Frankie?" Carmen scoffs. "I can't count on him for anything. Plus Wednesday nights he's usually with the guys playing pool. So are you free?"
Frankie watches you get a look in your eyes, a sometimes mischievous look that makes his stomach tighten in anticipation. You circle the head of his cock with your pussy, grazing but not letting him inside.
"Yeah, I'm free. I'll see you Wednesday at seven."
"Thanks so much. Have a good night."
"Have a nice night Mrs. Morales."
That's enough," you tell him breathlessly after you end the call. Frankie whines as you tug his cock out from inside your panties
"Daddy needs to fuck you," Frankie whimpers, no longer thinking of the consequences. He lets out a shuddering moan when you pull yourself off his lap.
"Can't fuck me," you tell him with a smile before you glance at the mirror facing your bed. He sees the small curl of your lips. "Lean back a little bit, Daddy. Babygirl will take care of you."
Frankie lays flat on his back eagerly. His large cock is wet and rosy at the tip, aching for your touch. His head is propped slightly on the pillow, allowing him to see into the mirror as you smile at him.
You give him a wink before shuffling backwards on your knees until you're seated on his lower belly. Frankie watches this, his large eyes wide in anticipation. He's confused when you lean back atop of him, your head nestling just under his chin.
Your ass is pressed into his hips, your legs on either side of his narrow hips. Your thighs hold Frankie's cock between them. You search for Frankie's eyes in the mirror.
"Can you see, Daddy?"
Frankie takes a shuddering breath. "Yeah."
"You don't get to come inside," your whisper, hand coming to gently pat Frankie's cheek above you. "But you can make yourself come between my legs."
Frankie feels his cock twitch violently at this.
"C'mon Daddy," you say arching against his chest. "Want you to come on my pussy."
Frankie begins to thrust his cock up between your thighs, his breathing sharp in your ear. He holds your waist, hips canting up as he watches in the mirror.
"Spread your legs for me," Frankie groans into your ear. "Daddy wants to see"
You do as he asks, legs spreading. Frankie isn't satisfied, his large hands go to grip your thighs, parting them further as he fucks between your pussy lips, your panties the only barrier.
"Oh fuck yeah," Frankie groans as he watches your soaked panties rasp against his weeping cock.
You feel a tingle race through your body at the sensation. The head keeps rubbing against your clit with every swipe. It makes you cry out his name, hips rutting into the air. He sees your tits bouncing with every thrust he gives you and it makes his cock throb.
"That's my fucking girl," Frankie says with a purr. "So fucking wet."
You feel Frankie fumbling with the fabric of your underwear and you know exactly what he's after when the head of his cock slips underneath.
"Should stop," you slur, eyes barely open, arms loosely at your sides. "S'bad, Daddy."
Despite your feeble chastising, you make no attempt to stop Frankie as he slides the side of his cock between the lips of your pussy.
"Just a little baby," Frankie pants. "Won't go inside but I gotta feel your pussy."
"Daddy," you whine.
"Gonna come in your panties," Frankie tells you, watching his cock jumping beneath the fabric.
"No, I wanna see it," you murmur. "Wanna watch you come."
Frankie gives a small grunt before pulling at your panties. You help him shift them down your legs and then he's back pumping between your thighs.
"That's right," Frankie says, pulling your thighs apart himself so he can watch the lurid view of him fucking between the seam of your pussy. "Daddy gets to come on this sweet cunt tonight doesn't he?"
You feel the bulbous head of his cock nudging at your entrance, begging to be welcomed into your wet heat. You want to, you really do. But you’re not doing it now, not in a rush without thinking about it. You know Frankie would let the guilt eat him alive.
"Daddy you're getting too close," you say, feeling the head start to breach your cunt. His hands are on your breasts, kneading them, fingertips teasing the nipples into painful strains. It’s overwhelming and so fucking hot to you. To know that you can’t fuck but that you’re dangerously close to doing so.
"I don't care," Frankie tells you, his forehead shining with sweat as he fucks between your thighs. "You're mine tonight."
"No," you say, twisting so he can't enter you. "Daddy, don't be bad."
Frankie wants to fuck right into you but he holds back at your protestation. Instead he fucks between your thighs with gusto, gasping against your temple as he comes.
You watch the lurid spray of come shoot up, dribbling over your bare pussy in warm ropes. Frankie watches it too, eyes wide with desire. He holds your legs open, watching your mixed arousal drip down your pussy over the bed sheet below. He's never seen anything sexier in his entire life.
“That was so fucking good,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “So good baby. But I should go.”
“I think you’re a bit too late for that,” you giggle.
He looks at your face in the reflection, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering. His eyes shift to the clock on the wall that reads the late hour. He’s missed the entire dinner with Carmen and her friends. That’s when Frankie realizes the power you hold over him.
That’s when he realizes he's totally fucked.
#Frankie Friday#frankie morales x you#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales#catfish#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales#fanfiction#fanfic#pedro pascal#smut
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Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)
@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years) maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?
(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)
"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."
The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.
"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.
"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist
You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.
With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.
You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.
You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.
You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."
So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)
Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.
"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.
"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"
Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."
"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.
"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.
"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."
"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.
"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"
"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."
"Fuck." you growl.
Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"
He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.
"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"
"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.
"Sorry, no." Sam adds.
"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."
They think.
They look at each other.
They nod.
"Welcome back." Dean grins.
"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."
Sam winces.
#male reader#sam winchester x male reader#dean winchester x male reader#supernatural x male reader#supernatural x reader#supernatural headcanons#headcanons
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My GTFO Powder. Spell?
Eh. Either way, every now and then, something mean comes into my home - mean, rude, leering, giving me Uncomfy Vibes, ya'll know what I mean.
Not necessarily evil. But not really nice, either.
And entirely unwelcome.
So, I grab a bowl. Or those coffee filters, the white papery things that are shaped like a bowl or a cup.
Then I raid the kitchen's spice rack.
I say, follow your heart. Pick out the spicy ones (like cayenne), the pungent ones (like dill powder), and/or sweet ones (like sugar).
Whatever feels right, babe.
What I usually grab are: black pepper, salt, cinnamon, mugwort, cayenne, ghost pepper, sugar, cloves, sage, brown sugar, the burnt bread crumbs in the toaster, coffee grounds, catnip, and if any of the smokers in my life have visited recently - and I'm particularly uneasy - I also throw in cigarette ash.
I won't make this into an EVEN LONGER post by listing out all of the magical properties of these herbs and spices. Take it as encouragement to do independent research!
But the most important thing is that it feels right, you know? And as it turns out, most if not all household spices and herbs CAN BE USED for protection and positive energy.
Once you've got your shit together, start putting in as much of the ingredients as YOU want into the container of your choice.
Follow your heart. Don't overthink it.
When you're done, mix it together.
FRIENDLY REMINDER: If you end up using your bare hands/fingers to mix it all up (like me, the local barbarian), don't forget to thoroughly wash your hands. And for the love of FUCK, do not rub your eyes with your dirty, spiced up hands! (also like me, the local idiot)
Anyway. You picked out ingredients that vibe with you, that feel right and you know will suit your purpose: chasing off this disembodied energy spirit asshole intruder.
You've mixed it up.
You washed your hands. And probably sneezed a lot, because you're dealing with powders that can tickle your nose hairs.
Congratulations!
You've made your own GTFO Powder.
Or repellent. Whatever you wanna call it.
Now start throwing it around your house; your windows, doorways (but leave the front door alone for now). Every corner of every room, from the attic to the basement - don't overlook any space, and give special attention to areas that creep you out.
If you need support, bring in whoever you need to back you up. Ohana, bitch!
Or your bros. Nakama. Doesn't matter.
If you can't do this alone, then DON'T and go fetch your trusted people. Sailor Moon taught us the power of love and friendship, you know this shit.
Returning to the subject -
As you're doing this, say whatever you need to say: pick a song, a poem, prayer, or just bitch at the entity for disturbing your peace and to leave you and yours alone.
Yes. I am the last option. There's a lot of swearing and gamer-level trash talk, because I'm not a classy witch.
As my previous therapist said: "You're a mess, girl!"
I'm getting sidetracked: at this point, you've hunted down every last scrap of Bad, Awful, No-Good energy. You've chased it all around your house, and made your displeasure known (in the way that suits you, that feels right).
You could also (safely!!) burn it, if your smoke alarm won't scream at you. I've had the smoke cause a bad spirit to gag, which was a wild experience, lemme tell you.
Anyway: you did the thing.
Now, backtrack.
Go your front door, say: "Get out, and don't come back!" or whatever pleases you.
And open the door.
Give slight pause, enough for someone to bolt outside (those with psychic sight might see a shadow running out, don't be spooked), and then douse your front door with the powder.
If you have a yard, and want to be through, buckle in:
Because you could stop here.
Lots of folks do, it's normal.
But I like to make sure I can go outside and touch grass without being jumped, you know? Because I have a yard, unlike the cool people with their fancy (or shoebox) apartments.
So.
From your front door, step outside and continue. Do as you did inside: throw the GTFO Powder around your porch, and start sprinkling it outside your house's walls.
Maybe rub the powder into the brick or wood, and on the windows trace protective symbols on the glass.
If you have the time, do this three times.
Then expand the protected space:
You're going to establish three rings (or boxes) from the immediate outside structure of your house; to the middle, and finally the outer layer - if you have a fence, use it as the final "wall" of protection.
If you have a gate, again: leave it for last.
For all three parts/circles/boxes that ripple outwards from your house, I strongly recommend doing each part three times, as I previously explained. Make the "lines" thick.
Again, use music, prayer, whatever you want. Whatever gives you strength.
Once you've finished each of the three parts: the house's immediate outside, the middle, and the outer layer/fence.
Then go to the gate, bid the spirit to "leave my goddamn yard, ya creep" (or as YOU want), open the gate for 'em, and then powder up your gate.
Finally, finally, face outside the gate and say a third farewell to the spirit, and close your gate.
If you don't live in a house, you can stop at the front door:
Just say goodbye as needed (two more times, if I'm keeping track) (or three times) (remember, do what feels right),
throw a bit of powder in it's "face" if you wanna be spiteful (like me) and close&lock the door.
Done. Complete. You did it.
Go rest, eat, hydrate. Chill. You used a lot of energy by being a badass witch.
Every now and then, refresh the protections.
Like. Every 3-6 months. Or as needed.
You have my permission to take this bit of magic and make it yours. Add in charms, rattles, your pets, bells, knot magic, candles, plushies, and even rename it - it's barely named as is, to be frank.
But could you let me know? I'd love to see how it evolves over time, and how it changes to suit the witch using it.
Have fun. Go terrorize your unwanted "houseguest".
Bye.
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[It's an audio recording... it sounds like it started picking up halfway through a conversation.]
"Tomorrow, then..."
"Tomorrow."
"Are you sure? I mean, I can lie my ass off, don't get me wrong, but... I can't promise he's gonna believe me. Man's probably got a fuckin' lie detector on his sleeve too."
"I don't need him to believe, I just need him there. That's all. Honestly, you could sell me out and I'd be fine too. After all, it's your job."
"...I'm sorry. About her."
"I don't really want to..."
"Sorry, I just don't get it. Half the time I don't get her. I mean, if it was me throwing you under the bus, no offense, I don't give a shit. We didn't even meet until Friday, you're like... barely above my aunt's Purrloin."
"Is there a point to this...?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm gettin' there. But you were like... her fuckin' ideal, man. She didn't shut up about you for months when we were kids, and now... what, you're a lab Ratatta? Just some experiment?"
"..."
"Look, what I'm saying is, she basically kicked a sad little wet Zorua who trusted her. And I feel like shit being associated with that. So here. I'm here. To fix her damn mistakes."
"...Never call me that again."
"Listen, my bad, you've got a mean kicked-puppy face. I dunno if that's illusions or whatever, but you're really fuckin' good at making me feel like a villain. So. Lemme fix up my lab, and we'll see how good I am at this 'cool dude redemption' shit. And then we can never meet again!"
"You both talk so, so much. Arc. I'm a therapist and I don't talk that much. I just... I'm leaving before she pops in here and I have to Deal With It. Okay? Alright. Let me know if your little blob ever needs therapy, I owe you one if this actually fuckin' works."
"His name's Goop, but alright, see you... er, don't see you tomorrow!"
pzzt... i don't know if i like this idea, pzzt...
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Have you ever think about what would happen if reader from the "reality" got isekai into FMOGD universe? The whole situation would go exactly like the novel or manga type beat of "I got isekai into my favorite book/game/show!" Imagine waking up one day at school that seems familiar like you read the description of somewhere, yet you couldn't say that you've seen the place before in your entire life. Then you heard the voice that sounds awfully similiar to what you've heard in the movie theater awhile ago.
"Hey, you gonna wake up or keep napping like a baby?." The voice from above tease you playfully before you slowly refocus your gaze.
This guy look awfully familiar, black hair in wolf cut, mismatch eye colors, goth punk clothes, lots of piercing.
Oh it's Mirage...OH IT'S MIRAGE!
As you look up at him up side down, you realize you're laying on his lap. You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you felt the flooding tsunami size of glee filled your whole heart. You called his name with a sob then spring up to embrace him tightly while babbling out sweet nothing words to pour your heart out to the character that you finally met and get to hug physically.
How you got here, and how to get back to "reality", those questions and worry can wait. You're occupied with loving your favorite goth best friend Mirage after all.
The responses would be different for everyone, of course, as I'm not the author of your legitimate reactions, only the "character" I make you out to be in the series.
But, my response would surprisingly be either extremely similar in one aspect, and the complete opposite in the other.
Over my years of bad encounters with people, I realize I have very much so a fawn response to people I know, and a horrific flight to strangers.
Putting myself into the shoes of say a scene revolving something similar to Mirage in the hotel alone, where the reader and him have sex while she is tired up... I would have a array of reactions. I don't talk about it often, but I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder when I was 19, and since then I've learned a lot about it, like how my alters are basically only males.
I consider myself asexual for this reason. I'm basically totally unable to have any form of sexual encounter with anyone without one of my alters saying "Nope!" And basically running away, thinking the worst of how we even managed to get into that situation. It's a trauma response according to our therapist. I dunno, I know nothing about it.
My protector is a male, I'm extremely close with him, and since I learned he existed through my therapist, I've learned how to communicate with him properly. We have full out conversations now outloud, and he's been known to be one of the only people who are able to take the reins, if you will, whenever in a bad situation, which happens quite often sadly enough.
I would most likely die very quickly if I were situated in that position.
I have way too many mental problems, anger issues and bad anxiety to be able to properly put up a fight.
I guess that's why I write, isn't it? To just get away from my vision of myself in my head, and write what I would like to be on paper. It helps me build more confidence in myself, and in my daydreams for FMOD and COSIO, I envision myself, but my personality is completely different.
I dunno, I have a lot of self hatred. I'd definitely die within the first hour.
"Pick someone." Optimus said.
"I would but oh my lord i'm so not happy right now man - You-you-you-you can't - don 't put me on the spot - i swear to god i'm gonna drown myself in a river - DON'T MAKE ME CHOSE I'M BAD AT DECISIONS - I want my freaking MOM LEMME CALL MY MOM PLEASE -" I said calmly.
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Dude
I just realised today how fucked up my brain actually is. Lemme tell you about all the disorders I have (get some popcorn y'all)
Starting off strong we have ADHD. I got this diagnosed in the first year I was in Scotland. The woman who was diagnosing me literally looked at her medical chart thingy and then at me and was like 'Miss, you have very severe ADHD. How did you even survive these past few years?' and I was like 'I Dont know I just did YAY TO SURVIVAL'
Second, we have PTSD. I got diagnosed in 2021 actually. I have mental PTSD due to my abusive past. And it's kind of gotten a bit better now. I no longer fear from fireworks so yay!
Third I have this thing called 'Half Autism'. It's basically where I'm not fully autistic nor am I not autistic. It's kinda difficult to explain since they are rare cases hehe I'm rare but I got this shit last year from my therapist and I was like oh ok cool can I get some ice cream now.
And coming off at last place, we have insomnia. Dude look it's my Bang Chan brain ok? I really can't help it. Insomnia is worse that people think it is and for me oh boy. It's a fucking rollercoaster. But but but I do have a solution which is listening to calming music for an hour before sleep. So yeah. I listen to Blessed cursed and God's menu before I sleep because that's calming!
#mental health#mental ilness#i belong in an asylum#BUT I AINT GONNA GO HEHE#im pretty sure the doctors will go mental if they spend time with me#oh well#the only therapy i need are concert tickets to Enhypen and Stray kids#oh and some money#and for all of my biases to fall in love with me k drama style#lets keep up the delusions#mona's sessions#bye bye now
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Hi! Welcome to a cozy haven, made for YOU! 😁
I made this because I want to offer a place for people who feel despised in fandom to take refuge. Specifically, people who have been, are being, or even fear being dogpiled/ostracized for their art, fan interests, or association with anything accused of being ""proship"".
And to be clear right off the bat: I generally understand "proship" to just mean the belief that one can indulge in fiction about horrible things without necessarily being horrible themselves. Proship is a belief. But a lot of people accuse things of being "proship" too (for example, calling a fictional pairing "a proship" or calling the act of indulging in taboo kinks "proshipping"), because the people who attack what they perceive as "proship" believe that proship means "content that endorses pedophilia/incest/abuse/etc." and/or "supporters of those things".
And frankly, at this point, the label is useless, but I just want people to know, in no uncertain terms, that this is absolutely not an, "uwu you were criticized for being a child predator, lemme support youwuwu" blog. I especially have to make this clear because some of the people I intend to give support to do not identify as proshippers, so they might genuinely have a different interpretation of what that word means and then get the wrong idea of what I'm saying, ya know?
Anyway!
You do not have to be a proshipper or enjoy taboo fiction to send an ask. In fact, I made this with neutral- and anti-shippers in mind, because fandom bullies absolutely do not discriminate. I've seen them attack totally sfw, non-shippy art. I've seen them attack other "antis". And I know there are some people out there who are mostly in anti circles and are afraid of stepping out of line. I know there are people who do not like dead dove content and have no desire to make it, who still get attacked. People who actively go after others to appease their friends, and still get attacked. People whose first language isn't English, who get attacked for not conforming to American cultural standards.
But here, you are safe from all of that.
You do not have to out yourself. You can give as much or as little detail as you want, to keep your identity safe. And I will listen and be here for you, and try to provide links to other understanding spaces too.
Whether you want to vent about being in a sticky situation with your friend group, or want advice or new perspectives, or want to send positivity to other followers of this blog, or if you just want me to share your GoFundMe or something... I'll try to give everyone a spot!
Unfortunately, I do have to set some boundaries so that I don't hurt myself. I wish there didn't have to be any limits on how much support I can give you, but I can't emotionally handle talking people through things like a therapist would. That's why I chose to make a blog instead of opening my DMs. Asks and Answers are my sort-of middle ground. For that reason, I can't have extended conversations about this in DMs, but I will answer your asks with as much care as I can.
I want to reach out and help, I really do. But I'm just as messed up as everyone else and I need to take care of myself, or else how will I even help others? ovo
If you also have friends who will support you for who you are, I strongly encourage you to reach out to them too! My friends and loved ones have been wonderful to me when I've gone through awful times, and even when I've made genuinely bad mistakes, and I've made massive strides in self-improvement partially due to their support!
Thank you for reading, and welcome to the blog!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Here's a set of resources for people who have been harassed online.
For proshippers, there's a server called Profiction Hub that directs to other servers, all of which are proship-friendly, but may have other rules that don't fit your needs (such as some being anti-endo and some having a maximum age cap). Only some of them have either of these rules btw. One server is even open to neutral-shippers as well.
#pinned#introduction#support#positivity#fandom#anti harassment#help#proship#antiship#neutralship#I at least hope this is welcoming to people ^^;#I'm not trying to claim to be a “safe adult” or a “fandom mom”#I simply get sad when I see people getting harassed so I wanna give them a place to talk about it#just wanna help!
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Me, Playing Luke's route
Chapters 1-5
You KNOW I HAD TO
Also this illustrates why we would be friends but not love interests.
Sariel: he lacks a sense of responsibility.
Me: of which I have so much it spills over.
Sariel: yes. :)
Me: But it is NOT my responsibility to make sure the princes attend to their duties, riiight? :)
Seriel: well...
Me: and, i am studious. It can be intimidating to some people. I wouldn't want to do even more to discourage him from his studies.
Sariel: *disappointed dad look*
Me: ... Dammit. Fine. I'll do it!
Sariel: I can't believe that worked anyways.
#
*later in the garden*
Luke: Pretty AND can cooks! You're such a catch!
Me, who has know Rio for 3 years: I know!
#
MC: thanks Luke.
Luke: but I didn't do anything...
Me: Yeah, he didn't do anything.
MC really be out here saying "Luke, you're someone in the palace I can let my guard down around be like how commoners are" and I'm like, no offense Luke but, Where's Rio? Pretty sure if I am gonna rely on anyone for that it would be Rio if simply because I've known him longer. But it wouldn't even be just cuz of that, he's also more RELIABLE
#
Luke: I'm gonna be your big brother!
Me: Luke, honey, I'm pretty sure this is the OTHER way around.
Luke: why?
Me: you have not been responsible once since I've met you. {This route at least} You won't even come to classes with me, which is the only thing I asked of you.
Luke: *surprised Pikachu face*
#
Sariel didn't watch the trailer. Poor man. Also, I DEMAN A HIGH FIVE FOR PULLING THAT OFF!
#
*later in the kitchen*
Luke: I have BAGGAGE. Like. REALLY heavy baggage.
Me: yeah, I saw your trailer. That's why I'm here.
Altho if I'm honest, if theres anyone who's trauma in willing to unpack it would be Rio.
Luke:...bruh...
#
Me in therapist mode: *fixes glasses* Luke, have you ever been afraid to care about people because the more you care about the more you've got to loose?
Luke: .... Are those Sariel's glasses?
Me:... No. Don't change the subject.
#
Thinking about how Luke WAS actually the one I was most interested in when I started the game and if I didn't start it when the game came out but waited till now and picked his route without watching the trailer at all as I have done in the past I would get an increasing feeling of "what the HELL did I get myself into?" I heard the japanese trailer didn't spoil so much, man those players must have had a wild ride.
#
*in the tavern*
Clavis: heyo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear
Me: * punches him in the face without even turning around out of pure reflex*
Clavis: my beautiful face!
#
Nokto: are you dating Luke?
Me: no.
Nokto: but you just called him "honey"...?
Me: He just comes quicker when I say that.
{Nokto hasn't actually appeared yet. I miss him... }
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answering earlier than expected bc of a random burst of energy? couldn’t be me 🤭 nah but i actually feel kinda sad™️ rn and u make me feel better so here i am 🤞but OMGKEJFJWBFHE WHERE DO I EVEN BEGINNNNN
youcore fr bc you’re so smart and cool bae ugh your mind is everything OMGMGMGMM you got me wanting to jump through the screen to gently hold shin but also gently hold you bc KDNSJDDKDN the storyline fits so well and like,,,, suits him if that makes sense???? i’m absolutely HERE for this letter writing arc and im so fuckin excited you have no idea <3 <3 <3 (might inspire to make more playlists too, just for u <3) even despite all this, I can still feel his dorky and soft self and I JUST
there’s this cute comic from @/loweater of toshi using asl w bakugou and eri and if i can find it i’ll tag you :) OH and his dad being his therapist and all the other details about his family wE LOVE TO SEE IT 🗣🗣🗣 (this moreso relates back to the blog which we’re gonna get into- but i remember you writing abt his (3?)pet cats so just a little idea there for u :>)
last thing darling!! please please please don’t feel pressured to reopen that blog or talk to me constantly. getting a little more personal in 3, 2, 1~ for the longest time when u took your hiatus, i felt so bad and guilty bc I thought I was the reason and I took so much of your time and energy and I admit and apologize for being way more emotionally dependent than I should’ve been. things have changed now and im doing a lot better! i love and care for u vv much so pls don’t beat yourself up over it ok <3
wait no sorry THIS is the last thing I swear 😭 i was actually gonna msg u a couple days ago bc i actually had a dream abt the voicemail thing- long story short,,,,, i think i called shin back the next day, we said hello and i unexpectedly (to him anyway) asked him a question abt his new pet fish…??? OK before u think i’m crazy;;; i think it was smth that he had rambled abt in the voicemail and i was asking abt it just to talk and exist freely before getting into the Other Much Needed To Be Discussed Topics.
okay i went like way overboard im sorry 💀 ily forever my darling mwah <3
I NEVER GOT THE NOTIFICATION FOR THIS IM SO SAD :(
UHM 1) i hope you're ok w me answering this publicly w the more personal info shared, if not lemme know and i will, idk delete this post? that being said! between my own terrible unmotivation and personal issues, plus yes maybe a little bit with the emotional dependence, it just felt hard to keep up with the blog. but you were never, ever ever ever, a Big Bad in my life, never. overwhelming sometimes, yeah(BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR IT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, OUR FLAWS MAKE OUR RELATIONSHIP STRONGER). but when i made the decision to close the blog it was not "riri makes things hard :(" it was, "things are hard and i gotta focus on myself :(". i appreciate and abs accept your apology though you are so cool and i am so so happy knowing that you're doing better <3
a bit of an extension on that;; i'm still deciding whether i wanna reopen the blog tbh. i've got a couple wips on there that i meant to finish but never did, plus small storylines i wanted to pursue thru shin's blogs that i can't exactly emulate thru I Am An Author Writing a Thing when it should be This Is A Guy Writing Stuff On His Tumblr Blog. plus publicly posting my writing is so rewarding to me :}
2) PLEASE DO JUMP THRU THE SCREEN and gently hold me n shin - woahoah we would both love that methinks. grrrr. i love you so much riri. no amount of poetic words can convey how much i love and adore you TRULY. you are a light in my life, i am happy and ready to have room in my life for you again :) <3
3) YOU DREAMED ABT IT AJFNNE. shin getting a fish... that would def clash with his, yes, 3 kitty cats. but also a calm pet that doesn't require love and affection? holy crap i shoulda considered it, that'd be way fitting for them,,, if not for the fact that fish are Slimy and shin likes Fluffy. in an alternate world where cats hadn't already stolen their heart, i can easily imagine shin getting into fish and maybe even lizards. he's got the range~
idk if i'm exactly gonna write what was said in the voicemail cos i wanted to leave that up to your interpretation, and tbh i'm GLAD for that cos your interpretation is great. muahaha
ilyilyily going to check out the mecore link now muah <3
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Chapter Three
Running.
She was running through the crowds. Her arms swayed front and back and her feet stamped on the ground. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and the cold air bit into her lungs. At this great speed, Carrie could barely see a few feet ahead of her. And with that, she forced herself to stop. She felt her whole body working: her muscles warmed, her calves burned, fresh air entered her lungs and blood flowed into all her limbs.
Then, Carrie spotted a wooden bench and threw herself on it, her back pressing against it. Her heart raced fast from the running and her muscles ached. She inhaled the air through her nose and exhaled. She felt the people walking past her, chatting among themselves. Then, their thoughts echoed in her mind.
(— that project's due —)
(— the last time she said no she meant —)
(— he had an affair and that whore is pregnant?!)
Carrie covered her ears with both hands, hoping it would block them out.
(— maybe i should call my mom and—)
(— how has she got more than me?)
(— look at those freaks!)
Those thoughts deafened her. Her green eyes slowly began to water and the voices came back.
"The Devil never dies, he keeps coming back. You're gonna have to keep killing him. Over and over again."
"Shut up, Mama," she muttered quietly to herself, recognizing her voice.
Her hands pressed against her ears with strength.
"Crazy Carrie! Crazy Carrie!"
She shook her head.
"Ugly."
"Stupid."
"Dumb bitch."
Overwhelmed, Carrie let the tears flow down her eyes. She leaned her body forward and a soft sob escaped her. She covered her face with shaking hands; her throat tightened and took short breaths in. A flood of tears gushed down her hot cheeks.
Then, a hand fell onto Carrie's shoulder. She turned around, beaming. She saw a woman— possibly mid-thirties— standing next to her with her hand on her shoulder. She had long dark hair and pale skin and light brown eyes. She wore a grey hoodie with ripped jeans and brown trainers.
"You okay?" She asked. "You look rough."
Carrie shuddered her shoulders. "It's... I just..." She shook her head and placed her hand on her forehead. "I don't know what happened there."
"What you mean?" the woman enquired and sat down next to Carrie.
Carrie sighed and locked her hands together, resting them on her knees.
"I've been reliving bad memories," she explained. "I try to forget about it but..." Carrie lowered her head. "It doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't forget it."
"Sounds like you can't let the past go," the woman concluded and Carrie nodded, wiping her tears. "And you're beating yourself up because of it."
Carrie smiled briefly and looked at her. "Are you a therapist?"
"No," she laughed. "But I do understand what you're going through."
"Really?" she asked, confused by her words.
"Yeah, let me tell you something," the woman rotated her body and they faced each other. "You grew up in a horrible situation and faced horrible people, but you got through it and you are doing well. Despite all the things that happened, you allow yourself to come out of the other side."
Carrie looked on at her.
"You're doing well for yourself. Lemme ask you this. How many times have you gotten through something and you stay right there?"
Carrie pondered her question, her gaze at her. Her eyebrows pulled in slightly causing a vertical wrinkle; her head was slightly tilted. Her mouth pressed together in a thin line.
"You keep referring back to it," the woman continued. "You keep putting your hand on a burning stove, you keep sticking your foot in a fire. How many times have you brought yourself through something and you stay there mentally? You beat yourself over the grades you get, you beat yourself over a relationship you were in for too long, but you got through it."
Other tears fell out of Carrie's eyes.
"Now, instead of accepting that you got through it, you keep dabbling in it. You want it to be different and it's not. You can't change your past but you can create your future."
Carrie found that warm comfort in it. She turned herself around while gazing at her.
"I never thought I would need that, thanks," she said with gratitude. "What's your name?"
"Maria," the woman replied and smiled. "Everyone knows me around me. Yet I've never seen you before."
"Yeah, I don't go out much," she explained. "I-I'm Carrie, by the way."
"Well, Carrie, you should," Maria said, patting her shoulder. "Good for your health, especially the mental side. I mean, I've been living outside since I was eighteen."
"You're homeless?" Carrie gawked at her, surprised.
"Yeah," she answered, nodding her head. "But don't worry, I've been going into the shelters... when there's enough room for people and following their rules."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Carrie said.
Maria looked at her, confused. "For what?"
"For the way that you're living."
"It's fine. Being in a shelter is greater than being on the streets." Maria's face sternly darkened as she eyed the busy streets. "Being out there at night can be dangerous and scary for some. Punching, kicking, robbing, stabbing, the lot."
"Oh my gosh," Carrie exclaimed. "Has that ever happened to you?"
"Only the robbing and a few punches and kicks," Maria replied, rubbing her arm. Her brown eyes stared at Carrie. "You watch out at night, Carrie. There's a lot of sickos loose on the streets."
She looked at Maria, noting all the details of her person, and concern gripped her. Was she putting her in danger just by talking to her?
"Yeah," Carrie replied vaguely, already turning and getting up from the bench; she began to walk away from her.
"That's okay," Maria heard her call to her retreating back, "Some of us like it that way."
I'm not asking what she meant, Carrie shot back mentally, but her heart wasn't really in it.
She pulled her jacket a little closer as she looked at Maria for the last time and turned her head. Luckily it was still daytime so the chances of meeting a 'sicko' were low. But never none.
***
As she walked through the crowd, Carrie felt a lot calmer than she was a few hours ago. She remembered Maria's words as she headed home.
"You can't change your past but you can create your future."
The future was the one thing she never thought about. When the Black Prom happened and her old house was falling on her, she thought she would never live to see her future. But Estelle saved her from Chamberlain and she tried to help her gain it. This gave Carrie something to think about.
Then, she felt her pocket vibrating. Carrie reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out her iPhone. She got her first phone on her twenty-first birthday. Back at her old home in Chamberlain, her mother never let advanced technology in believing it was the Devil's way of luring people to damnation. But she didn't find anything bad about it. Instead, she was curious about the phone. Estelle did warn her about the hacking and the trolls and other issues but Carrie never encountered them.
She saw Estelle's name on the phone screen, pressed the green icon, and placed it to her ear.
"Hello?" Carrie asked, walking.
"Hi, Carrie," she heard Estelle at the other end of the phone. "How are you doing?"
"I'm good," she replied. "I'm just out for a walk."
"Okay, that's good. You've been anywhere or just walking?"
"I went to a library and... then I panicked." Carrie sighed.
"Panicked?" Estelle said, her voice concerned. "What happened?"
"I spotted two books relating to the Black Prom and an old guy tells me..." she shook her head. "No, remind me of what happened there."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Estelle replied sadly and sighed. "It's my fault. I told you that you should go out more and I didn't think you would be getting a panic attack."
"So that what it was?" Carrie said to herself. "I mean, the last time I experienced that was at school in the showers and..." she paused, trying not to think about it. And Estelle knew what she was talking about. "Well, you know. That."
Carrie coldly ended 'that'.
"I know," Estelle sighed. "I know." She took a brief pause and said, "I'm so sorry."
"For what?" She asked.
"For forcing you to do something you felt uncomfortable doing."
"It's fine. Plus I understand where you're coming from." Carrie breathed in and then grinned. "Also, I talked to a homeless woman."
There was a small silence.
"That... sounds good," Estelle managed to say. "Was she nice to you?"
"Yeah, she was. Her name was Maria and she comforted me when I was crying."
"Oh, she definitely sounds nice. I'll see you when you come home."
"Okay, Estelle," she said. "I'll see you soon."
"Okay, bye," Estelle replied.
"Bye."
Carrie pressed the red icon, ending the call. She placed her phone back into her pocket as she strolled back home.
***
She arrived back at the Hotel Schueller by one o'clock. She walked upstairs despite the aches in her leg muscles from all the walking and running. Once she arrived upstairs, Carrie stopped by the door — number 1401 — and took out her key. She placed it in the keyhole and carefully opened it. Once she took her key out, she entered her apartment and closed the door behind her.
She took off her jacket, hung it up, and carefully walked to the kitchen. Then, Carrie spotted Estelle in the living room.
"Hey, Carrie," Estelle greeted her and hugged her. "How's your walk?"
"Pretty good," Carrie replied. "How's work?"
"Well, you know, discovering something new everyday."
They laughed and Estelle fidgeted her hair with her right hand and rubbed her neck.
"Hey, how about we watch a movie tonight?" She suggested. "And we could have pizza?"
"Sure," Carrie said and smiled, her eyes beaming.
"Great," Estelle voiced lightly and headed to the DVD shelves. "What do you want to watch?"
Carrie shrugged her shoulders. "T-That film with Brad Pitt? The one where he's married to an assassin who tried to kill him?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Smith? Sure thing."
Estelle walked into the living room with the DVD copy in her hand. After she placed the disc in the DVD player, Estelle ordered a pizza from the local pizza place and took a bottle of Pepsi Max out of the fridge. Carrie sat on the sofa with her legs crossed. She smiled and Estelle sat next to her, placing the pizza box on the table.
Link to Chapter Four
#carrie 2013#carrie white#eddie brock#venom#venom 2018#anne weying#carlton drake#crossover#dan lewis#fanfic#venom symbiote#venomverse#sony spiderman#sonyverse#carrie stephen king#carrie#fanfiction#life foundation#riot#sony#sony spiderverse#telekinesis#trauma#2018#fanfic crossover#religious trauma#san francisco#umbra#book 1#chapter 3
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But you know what?
I said on this blog and with my mouth that I wanted someone other than Brandon to be able to scrape me down
Gimme that good Graston
And through a party promoter who sells cannabis drinks and is connected to sexologists,
I found a licensed Black male massage therapist who can do Graston gua sha IASTM AND make my cucci squirt.
I pray he don't fuck this up for me.
Need him to STFU with calling me fearful around the plague that killed my father and we'll get along fine and I'll give him my money.
So lemme say on this blog that I am looking for my house.
I've been actively looking for some time and my shit is finally the most together it's ever been and even the back taxes are paid off so the IRS can't come for my shit once I get it nor stand in the way of me getting it.
It pains me to pay rent to these smirking ass And Browns and they fucked up the affordability AND my patio door that used to be airtight.
I spoke into existence my money from 2021 doubling in 2022--that happened.
I spoke Adonis into my experience
And I am moving into my house at the end of this lease.
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Astrology Observ Rants: 🌜random placements🌛
Heyyyy!! So I was really inspired by this one fellow blogger that i have mutuals with on my tumblr feed and decided to start writing some rants!😆 Take this easy and have fun! Lemme know what you guys think down below:)
1. Leo Moon/Venus/Rising. You do not need others validation to feel happy. When people tell you to back off, back off. Repeat after me until that becomes real. I'm a Leo Rising/Venus so I truly know this best. Some of us really see red flag as a sign to chase lol
2. Are you really bestfriends with a Scorpio Venus if they never told you all of their sketchy schemes? Oh you didn't know that they created a fake Tinder account and spent 2 hours swiping left on the app at 1AM in the morning to see if they will find their s/o account? Even if their s/o is sound asleep next to them? You didn't know they do that? They probably not your bestfriend then😬 (Mix this with Virgo/Libra energy and you get a demon)
3. A big hug then a loving slap to all of my Gemini Sun with Leo Venus out there! Some of y'all are simply crazy possessive but refuse to show it somehow? Why do you feel so much but show so little? Being in love will not make you guys distracted. Show the world how big your heart is. My Leo Venus will really appreciate this thank you.
4. Sagittarius moon people... Are you guys like... Okay? Literally any sun with sagittarius moon are the worst overthinkers I've met in my life, worst temper too. I'm not sure why some people believe Sag moon slacks off and ignore the problem. In my experience I have not met any Sagittarius moon thats not either 1. confrontational 2. extreme anger issues 3. extreme identity crisis 4. truly feel bad when they did someone dirty and can owe up to their wrongs 5. STUDIOUS ( My mom has this and her sun is in Gemini and despite her age, she's currently learning 2 new languages and has traveled to most countries in the world, I'm serious)
5. I didn't really get why Sagittarius men have such a bad reputation until I met one. Wow. And y'all have the audacity to call Gemini men evil? Have you met a Sag man with water placements?
6. Gemini Rising please please please calm down. I love your energy when you're at your best. Literal sunshine! But your moodiness is INSANE and you guys have anxiety so bad sometimes I just wanna give y'all a hug.
7. Hey Aquarius Rising! It's time to let go of this toxic cycle. You know you deserve better. Clinging on people who won't share the spotlight with you don't do any good.
8. I'm sorry I typed formla instead of *formula! Now can you shut up and stop taking screenshots of my grammar errors? Yeah I'm talking about you guys, Virgo Moon/Mars.
9. I feel like no one ever talks about how Cancer Mercury can either never freaking open up??? Like at all??? Or can't shut up about their emotions??? Like its either the former or the latter it's tiring boo.
10. Gemini Mercury aspecting Venus. Please. Make a decision.
11. Capricorn mars energy makes me wanna bend over and let them torture me sometimes. But only when they're heartless and don't give a damn about me. When they start to care it's like they want us to elope ASAP.
12. I think it'd be best if Aries Moon people sit down and lock themselves up in a room when they're about to throw a tantrum. This will really help your relationships.
13. Pisces sun women and their relationships with their grandparents. A lot of Pisces I know grow up with their grandparents!! Not a rant just a fun fact lol.
14. Pisces Moon people are delusional. I said what I said. Y'all really believe blasting "Attract my ex come back to me affirmations RHZ" will manifest your ex back in your life. Get a therapist. (I'm a Pisces moon so I know. Don't come for me)
15. Finally, Leo sun with Libra venus❤️ I read somewhere saying that you guys are angels! You are. But in the same time. Some of y'all will risk it ALL when you want someone. I mean literally. Stop it.
love,
saint jenx🪐
#astrology observations#astro notes#astrojenx#astrology#libra rising#astrology notes#leo venus#libra sun#moon in scorpio#astrotips#leo sun#aries moon#cancer mars#cancer mercury#gemini rising#piscesmoon#scorpio venus#libra venus
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So, I saw a lotta people (my moots) doing this and I figured I should too.
Alrighty then, this is an intro to my blog.
Heyyo!! My name is Astra. You can call me by any nicknames too. Like Art, or gimme your own nickname.
My pronouns are she/her. Although, your grace and sire works too ;)
I'm a minor. Even though I don't act like one and I swear a lot, I still am a minor.
I'm Indian and desi so don't be surprised if I just start spouting lyrics to Hindi songs sometimes and start ranting about how horribly fucked up CBSE and NCERT are.
Fandoms I'm in:
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
Harry Potter
MCU-Verse
TVDU-Verse
A lotta other shit that I can't remember
Warning: If you're a pedo, homophobic, transphobic, racist, or just againt the LGBTQ+ community in general, please get the fuck off of my blog, block me, never interact again cuz bish lemme tell you I own knives and I ain't afraid to use 'em.
I post the most random shit. I talk about my life in general (sometimes, mind you).
Now, here is a fair warning to turn back,
WELCOME TO THE SHIT SHOW, IT ONLY GETS WORSE FROM HERE.
@1llalw4ysl0v3y0u @xunxunny @jo-thesmolbi-queen @sahil-ki-kashtiyan @sophiliated @tfischaitea @shydestinykryptonite @relentless-you-survive @the-princess-of-fandoms @booksscienceandmath @everything-is-bluuue @hemlock-the-viper @midtownbucky @mycroft-microsoft @isnt-it-gorgeous @anarchist-therapist @i-am-1142 @andgallifreyfallsagain @weiwuxiankinnie @nymphadorathebubba @lemongrass404 @fanfic-n-stuff @gayassperson @sanjanas-blogs @nomynamedoesnothaveay @sassychaostrash @simpingforwillsolace @ambrosia-and-nectar @xx0yeet-everything0xx @deepestpersonspyknight @thequeenofthesheep @galaxylightmoon @biracialpercy @this-is-it-its-tea-time @chibichococloud123 @percicosimp @justonemorechapternicercy @that-percico-bitch @ialmostdonothingnew @does-the-pain-ever-stop @tenebrislowkey @i-cry-over-fanfics @nerdyfuntheorist @ravenclawavengerx @cool-way-to-die @justtryingtosurviveinthepresent @thelastfunctioningbraincell @caffeined-frog
(im sorry for wasting your time but I need to have a list of my moots cuz im lazy and i dont wanna make it every time)
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Lemme tell u, my therapist called me "very brave" after months-long living nightmare. I can't believe it is finally over.
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