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luxurychristmaspudding · 3 months

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you and your friends (tommy's party pt. i)

summary: your handsome new roommate spells trouble. but you've got a handle on it. haven't you?

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. roommate!frankie, stoner!frankie and stoner!reader. mentions of drinking and smoking weed - they're having a good time! no lady and no baby. idiots in love, split pov, lots of fluff tbh and a whole lotta sexual tension. reader and frankie are little creeps n freaks. reader pays a visit to benny, frankie hooks up with 1 (one) other person. f&m masturbation, voyeurism, lots of cuddling. use of pet names (good girl, baby etc. (platonic, of course))

song is tagged at end of fic - header does not represent reader, only the album!

wc: 9.6k

an: *mc voice* let's get this party started!

part ii - tommy's party

When Frankie catches a glimpse of you from across Will’s crowded living room, he’s not so sure Benny’s idea is a good one.

The room is lit with yellow lamplight, heavy with the scent of sweat and alcohol and cigarette smoke. There are people crammed in everywhere; slumped over chairs and sofas, leant against door frames, moving in and out of the kitchen with the click of the door beads. A sluggish bass thumps out over the party, the thrum of laughter and conversation cushioning any other sound.

He stands at the back of a sofa which has been turned inwards towards the centre of the room, leaning over Santi and Will as they howl over some story they’re retelling for a couple of girls squished between them. Frankie had been quite happy listening and laughing along, but he’s distracted when Benny taps his arm with his beer bottle and motions over to you.

‘That’s her,’ he says, ‘The girl I was telling you about.’

And yeah, he’s very quickly sure that this is a bad idea.

Because you’re beautiful. A gorgeous wrap dress clinging to your curves, each outline flowing like you’d been poured into it. Jewellery clinking and glittering around your wrists, neck, and ears, and your hair shining like each strand had been arranged by some ethereal hand. Your smile bands out around you, bathing your audience in a kind of glow, a reflection of your warmth. Frankie watches as you tip your head back slightly in a boundless laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the soft clasp of your hand falling on the forearm of the man sat next to you. Fuck.

Frankie swallows drily, and Benny places a hand on his shoulder.

‘Come on, Fish,’ he says, ‘I’ll introduce you. I’ve told her about you already.’

Frankie doesn’t want to move. He’d much rather watch, much rather have Benny do the heavy lifting here. He doesn’t think he can talk to you, much less make a good first impression.

But his friend is guiding him forwards, and he can’t help but be shepherded. Panic rises like bile in his throat, and he thinks of turning around, excusing himself to go to the bathroom and just sitting in his truck for a while instead, but then -

Your bright eyes flick up to find Benny approaching you, and your face lights up. You stand from where you were perched on the arm of a chair and walk around the bundle of people whom you'd entranced. You place a gentle hand on a soft-haired woman’s shoulder, inclining your head to say you’ll be back in a minute, before you open an arm to Benny.

‘Benny!’ You call, squeezing his waist as the younger man presses you to his side, planting a kiss to your forehead. ‘How are you, man?’ You ask. Benny returns your greeting, answering your question, but Frankie can’t concentrate on anything he’s saying. You listen intently to his friend, smiling and asking a couple more questions, before looking properly at Frankie.

‘Sorry - hey,’ you say softly, ‘You must be -’

‘Oh god,’ Benny chuckles, ‘Sorry, yes. This is Frankie.’ Benny moves to press Frankie forwards, and he stumbles a little as he catches your outstretched hand. If you notice, you don’t say anything, just smile warmly at him and shake, giving him your name.

‘It’s good to meet you, man,’ you say, ‘Benny here has told me a lot about you.’ Benny laughs, clapping Frankie on the back.

‘Only good things, Fish,’ he grins, ‘I promise.’ Frankie rolls his eyes at him.

‘So, you’re interested in the room?’ You ask, and Frankie turns back to you. He nods, swallowing.

‘Yeah, really interested. It’d be great to come over and take a look if you’re around.’ He surprises himself at how easily the words roll off his tongue. You offer him another kind smile, nodding encouragingly, and he finds himself relaxing.

‘Of course,’ you say, ‘You’d be very welcome to. You have glowing recommendations from the boys, anyway.’ You lean in closer to him, lowering your tone conspiratorially. ‘I’d have you moved in tomorrow if I could. Sold on you already.’ Frankie beams bashfully down at the carpet and bites his lip, Benny’s idea straying dangerously back into good territory.

‘I wouldn’t believe everything they tell you.’ He says, eyes trailing over your neckline, the dip in your cleavage, the hollow of your throat, skin gleaming and a little damp with sweat. You reach out and tuck a stray curl peeking out from his cap behind his ear.

‘Not at all, sugar,’ you murmur, and your touch, the pet name, sends a shiver down his spine. ‘I think we’d get along just fine.’

Benny leaves you both soon after, in search of another beer. He asks if you want one and you politely decline. Frankie does the same. You lead him to a quieter corner by the back window and pull him into easy conversation. You laugh and tell him this is his ‘interview’, but confess that you really have no idea what that might involve. Frankie lets you ask him any question that comes to your mind, and in this pool of time, you discover everything you could need to know about each other. Where you grew up, what your parents were like, whether you enjoyed school, what you eat when you’ve had a bad day, how often you clean the bathroom, what you do now, and what your dreams are for the future. You ask tentatively, respectfully about Delta Force. Frankie appreciates the way you preface it with an out - you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to - but he finds that he does. He spares the details but tells you about training, about flying, about meeting the boys. He tells you about Tom, and as little about Colombia as possible. You nod, brow furrowing in sympathy, in feeling, and squeeze his knee in comfort.

Frankie’s heart shouldn’t skip the way it does, but then you’re asking him more about what Tom was like, how his family are. When his eyes mist over, you take his hand. He runs a thumb over your knuckles. He tells you, cringing, about the coke charge, about his licence. About how he’s getting it back in spring. You grin brightly at him, congratulating him, sucking air in through your teeth and doing a little dance in your chair. Frankie laughs at you, heart swelling. He doesn’t know how you’re getting him to do this - tell you all this stuff, make it feel okay, make him feel great. But he loves it. He could get used to it. You’re sat close to his side, shoulder to shoulder, and you are so warm, your skin so soft. Frankie leans in closer.

‘How did you meet Benny?’ He asks, breathing the words into the shell of your ear over the music. You squirm, dipping your head away from him, and Frankie wonders for an awful moment if he’s misjudged the closeness, if he’s already overstepped your boundaries.

You look at him sideways, your body angled away from him.

‘He didn’t tell you?’ You ask.

Frankie raises an eyebrow, mouth open, ready to apologise. His brow furrows and he shakes his head.

‘No.’ He says. You smile at him, sighing heavily through your nose.

‘It’s a little embarrassing,’ you say, avoiding his gaze. ‘We met at a bar. We got on really well, and -’ you huff out a breath, meet Frankie’s eye again. He’s still watching you, not having put together the pieces. You roll your head onto your shoulder, pick the label on your bottle. ‘We slept together, Frankie.’

Frankie’s heart drops.

‘Oh.’ He says.

‘Yeah,’ you laugh, ‘Oh.’ You’re quiet for a moment, Frankie scrambling for the right thing to say. He’s too slow. You clap your hands down on your knees and rise from your seat.

‘I’m gonna head outside for a bit,’ you say. He watches you disappear with a weak smile, an anxious feeling welling in his chest.

Frankie sits for a few minutes, taking pulls from his beer, looking out over the crowd assembled in the living room.

His spots Benny lent against a wall, held up by an arm outstretched beside a girl’s head. A tongue of fire licks up through Frankie’s belly, and he has to sit with it for a moment to work out what it is. Jealousy. He’s jealous that Benny has already touched you, has already heard you. Jealous that Benny has already crossed that threshold, and now he has to be the one to move in and keep his distance. Arbitrary rules, he knows, rules which have been disregarded before. Already, you’d be more than a quick fuck. It’s crass, but Frankie knows you should be more than someone you take home from a bar. Maybe you are - you’re here, after all, clearly invited. Frankie’s mind rocks with the notion that Benny is saving you, keeping you around. It would be cruel of him, but not impossible. Benny had a bad habit of getting what he wanted.

Frankie grinds his teeth, tears his eyes away from his friend. Stupid, stupid. You’re someone he’s only just met, someone he might be living with. Whatever weird thing this is going on in his brain, he needs to fix it quick. Thoughts like these are not suitable in situations like living together.

Frankie stands, but instead of speaking to Benny, instead of getting to the bottom of why you’re here, he follows you through the door beads into the kitchen and out the back door.

You’re sat on the porch swing just below the kitchen window, and the surprise of finding you so easily brings Frankie to a sharp halt. You look up from your bag, eyes wide, lips slightly parted in the glow of the porch light.

‘Hey,’ you say softly, ‘Are you okay?’

Frankie breathes out heavily.

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘Sorry about that - in there,’ gesturing over his shoulder, back into the house.

‘Oh,’ you say, shaking your head and bringing out a small plastic baggy from your purse. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s not a thing. There’s no -’ you wave a hand around your head, ‘Feelings there or anything. We’re just friends now.’

Frankie nods, leans against the doorframe. Hums a response.

‘You wanna sit?’ You ask, scooching over on the swing, patting the space next to you.

Frankie pushes off the frame and comes to sit next to you. He rocks the seat slightly with his feet, yours dangling a little too far off the ground to move it.

You grin at him, delighted with the movement. You shuffle to tuck your legs under you.

‘Amazing,’ you grin, ‘See? Already a dream team.’

Frankie grins back at you and watches you take more items out of your bag. A small, circular grinder, a tiny rolling tray, pink papers. You pop open the baggy, and the smell of the dried plant seeps through the air, rushing up his nostrils. Frankie breathes deeply, watching you sprinkle some of the bud into your open grinder. You close it, and look up at him.

‘You a narc?’ You ask, lips still quirked.

‘No.’ Frankie chuckles. You bite your cheek, shrug your shoulders.

‘Ya never know…’ you coo, and Frankie grins.

‘I got busted for coke, baby,’ he reminds you, ‘I’m not gonna rat you out for weed.’

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow.

‘Fair enough.’ You say. Frankie watches as you twist the grinder back and forth over the bud, entranced by the motion of your hands. His lips part, watching the strong flex of your wrists.

‘Do you smoke?’ You ask. His tongue dips out to lick the pillow of his lower lip, and you trace the movement with your eyes, fascinated. You swallow, clearing your throat softly. ‘Frankie?’

His eyes dart up to yours, embarrassed, flushed.

‘Yeah?’ He says.

‘Do you smoke?’ You repeat. He looks away from you, shy, shaking his head.

‘I used to,’ he says, ‘But not for a long time.’

You nod, looking out over the garden with him. The cool wind brushing through the trees, the luminescence of the town beyond their feathered tops.

‘You wanna share?’ You ask. He looks back at you, surprised, eyebrows high on his forehead. You shrug. ‘Don’t have to, of course. Especially if it’s not gonna be good for you. Just that - if you wanna move in, I’m afraid it’s a habit I won’t be quitting.’ You raise an eyebrow at him, half apologetic, half warning. He swallows visibly.

‘What if I get too high?’ He says, breathless. You snort, balancing the rolling tray on your knees as you separate the hash out onto the paper, on top of the lavender you’ve pulled from your purse.

‘It’s okay, sugar,’ you say, ‘I’ll look after you.’

Frankie stares at you, eyes wide.

You snicker at him, finish rolling, and lick the paper. Frankie watches the swipe of your tongue, its slow draw along the edge, and feels his cock twitch in his jeans. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea -

He watches as you perch the joint between your lips, put your shit back in your bag, and pull out a lighter. Your eyelashes flicker down to rest on your cheeks as the lighter clicks and you cup your hands around the flame. You take a deep breath in, hollowing your cheeks, lost to the sensation, the taste. Frankie’s jaw flexes, and he has to look away again. You exhale the thick smoke, blowing it away from him, taking another drag before knocking your hand against his arm.

‘Want some?’ You ask.

Frankie mutters a thanks and takes the joint clumsily in his fingers, rotating it until it’s comfortable in his grip. He brings it to his mouth, and you watch as he sucks in and immediately sputters out again. He bends over his knees in a hacking cough, and you gently take the spliff as you pat his back.

‘You okay?’ You ask, taking another draw for yourself. Frankie leans back against the seat, sucking in great breaths of air, eyes watery, his body still twitching. He gulps and nods, not looking at you. ‘Good.’ You say, softly.

Frankie tries again a few minutes later, and is a little more successful. You finish the rest of the joint together before you flick the roach off into the darkness. Your body hums with the crickets and the static of the night air, and you can’t wipe the grin off your face.

‘This is nice.’ You say dumbly, turning to face him.

His arms are crossed and his jaw is clenched again. He breathes deeply through his nose. You scrunch your face up at him, and he notices the movement out the corner of his eye. His gaze slips to you for just a second, and a large smile slips across his features. You giggle at him, heavy and giddy. The urge to take the hand folded closest to you strikes, and when you do, he turns to look at you properly.

‘You have really nice hair,’ you say softly. Frankie chuckles, unable to help himself. You grin at him. ‘What?’ You say. ‘You do.’

Frankie laughs harder, and you reach over to take the cap off his head. He makes a slow, unconvincing grab for it before you settle it on your own hair, kneeling up to swipe a hand through his curls. He watches you, unable to look away, and you gasp at the feeling of it carding through your fingers.

‘So soft,’ you breathe, delighted. You look into his eyes again, one hand cradling the back of his head. His eyes dart down to your mouth, and you lick your lips before starting to giggle. ‘Anyone ever told ya you got baby cow eyes?’ You say.

Frankie’s brow furrows slightly. His words are slow and slurred. ‘What?’

You giggle harder and move your hand round to cup his cheek, looking at him very seriously.

‘Your eyes,’ you say, ‘Are like a baby cow’s.’ A slow spread of joy glows across Frankie’s features. His eyes scrunch up with his smile. ‘Nooo,’ you cry softly, ‘Now they’re all happy. They’re not all big and brown anymore.’

Frankie laughs with unbridled amusement, his head dropping from your hand as he clutches at your knees.

‘A baby cow?’ He gasps. You nod quickly, enthusiastically.

‘Yeah, Frankie. You got real pretty eyes.’ Your own are wide and earnest, and that seems to convince him. He raises an eyebrow before grinning goofily at you, lifting a finger to tap your nose.

‘You think I’m cute.’ He says, and you snort, which only sends him off into a flood of more giggles.

‘I didn’t say that. Only said you got pretty eyes.’

It’s only a little, tiny lie. And you think it’s for the best.

You spend another hour out on the porch before returning to the party, and though you don’t stray far from each other, you make a point of finding Frankie before you leave. You hand him your phone, and he stares at it, confused, before you roll your eyes playfully and say -

‘I need your number, dummy. For the room.’

He taps his number into your phone, and you save it with a little cow emoji next to his name. Frankie bites away his smile.

When he’s lying on the sofa in the dark later, surrounded by bottles and cans and ashy cigarette ends, he can’t stop grinning to himself.

You text him early the next morning, giving him a time and a date to come and see the flat. Frankie replies with so much enthusiasm that he flushes when he reads the message back, dropping his phone onto the coffee table as he stretches out on Will’s floor. He sacrifices his spot on the sofa to Will and Benny, Santi beside him as they watch Face/Off over breakfast.

He doesn’t see your reply until the movie ends.

Can’t wait! So excited to see you!

He sets his phone back down with a happy sigh, so loud that Will and Santi, and then Benny, ask him what he’s so pleased about.

He only gets them to stop probing by smacking Will in the face with a cushion.

---

Frankie moves in a week later, while you’re at work.

You think it’ll be much easier for you both. If you were in the flat you’d only be in the way, and he probably needs the space and time to figure out where he wants to put his stuff. Plus, the idea of seeing him all hot and sweaty is one that, quite frankly, you’ve been trying to avoid.

Benny had told you all about his friends on that first date at the bar. You had been taken with the way he’d talked about them, so fond and positive. You’d enjoyed asking him so many questions, and were delighted when he asked you so many in return. And Benny was cute - he was hot. Enthusiastic and giving and good. But you knew, even laying next to him, both panting, turning your heads to grin at each other at the same time, that it wouldn’t go anywhere.

He had been your type on paper. He’d ticked so many boxes, and you had both fallen into that first date with such excitement - but there was just something missing. There was no burn. You had a good time, you wanted to see him again, but you didn’t yearn for him the way you wanted to. You didn’t miss him when he wasn’t around, you weren’t worried about him fucking other girls.

It hadn’t been a difficult conversation to have. Benny took it better than you’d hoped, and once it had been established, friendship came easily. You met Will, got on well, and the three of you would go for drinks. Benny would come over to watch a film and eat takeout, and you never touched each other. Sure, you thought about it. But you were on a mission to make life easier for yourself. To not fuck around and get attached to someone you shouldn’t get attached to.

So you should have known better when he introduced you to Frankie. Should have made up some excuse, even if he pretty much had the room after all the boys had told you. Should have backed out as soon as those beautiful brown eyes blinked at you, at that first curve of a shy smile, as soon as you’d tucked that curl behind his ear. Because Frankie was someone you could get attached to. Watching him cook, watching the steam trail out behind him after a shower, watching him stretch out on the sofa with a book, having him crinkle his crows feet at you from across the kitchen as he sips his coffee, the low timbre of his voice reaching you across the floorboards, none of these things are something you needed to know, to see. You should have known better.

Work has been busy, long.

So busy you had to stay behind for a couple of hours to make sure the late shift got set up properly, and then you could trudge home. The bus journey, the walk up the hill, the clamber up the stairs to your front door.

When you make it halfway up the stairs, you can smell it. A delicious, warm waft of heady spices, of richness flowing down through the stairwell. You breathe deeply, aching feet pausing on the concrete just so you can tip your head back and inhale. Your stomach growls loudly, and you wish whoever is cooking a good meal, because it sure fucking smells like it.

The smell is stronger on your floor, and you’re still taking deep breaths when you push open your front door. There’s the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen, the low hum of the radio playing. You toe off your trainers, leaving them next to a couple of unpacked cardboard boxes, splashing your keys into the bowl on the sideboard.

‘Frankie?’ You call. There’s no answer.

You move towards the sound, and push open the door to the kitchen.

Frankie is stood with his broad back to you, stirring something in a pot. He bops his head and hums in time with the radio, unaware of you behind him.

‘Holy fuck, Frankie. That smells amazing.’

He turns with a wide smile, a spatula in his hand.

‘Welcome home. I made enough for us both.’

You grin at him, dropping your bag and shucking off your jacket, coming to stand beside him. You ask about what he’s cooking, and he talks you through each step, the ingredients he’s used, and finally, blessedly, tells you it’ll be ready in five minutes.

You eat across the table from each other in quiet, easy conversation. Even with it all so new, with so many of his unpacked boxes still dotted around the flat, it feels like Frankie has always been here.

You wash and dry the plates side by side, laughing and happy and full. You retreat to your respective bedrooms to change into your pyjamas, and then you prop your door open for Frankie to come join you if he’d like. You flick on an episode of Adventure Time and dig around in your bedside table for your rolling stuff, sitting cross-legged and giggling at the cartoon as you grind, arrange, and roll the joint.

Your roommate appears in the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

‘Come in,’ you say, beckoning him closer, shuffling on the bed to make room for him. He eyes the spliff in your hand. ‘Wanna join?’ You ask. He hesitates.

‘Just a little.’

You nod, stretching off the bed towards the window, grabbing your lighter from the ledge. You flick it to life as Frankie watches from the bed, your legs bare below your sleep shorts, your nipples hard beneath your t-shirt in the cool night air. You jerk your head at him as you exhale, and he crawls over the bed towards you. You try not to think of the way he moves as you hand it to him.

Frankie puffs from the joint a couple times, and passes it back to you. You continue the routine until there’s nothing left, finishing the last couple of tokes before flicking the roach onto the street below.

‘What do ya wanna do?’ You ask him, closing the window. Frankie’s settled back on your bed amongst your pillows. He frowns at the ceiling.

‘Watch a movie.’ He says, and you giggle at the tacky sound of his speech.

‘Come on then, buddy,’ you say, taking his hand and pulling him from the mattress. ‘We’ll watch it on the sofa. You need some water,’ you sing, leading him towards the kitchen. ‘And we’re gonna need snacks.’

Frankie chuckles at the way you say it, a faux accent twanging at your words. He lets you push him down onto the sofa and watches you dopily as you busy yourself with refreshments. You dump everything on the coffee table before turning on the TV.

‘Help yourself,’ you say, gesturing to your stash, and Frankie leans forward in slow motion to grab a can of coke. You giggle at him. ‘What do you wanna watch?’

Frankie cracks the can open and shrugs.

‘Don’t mind.’

You think for a moment, roving through Netflix before slapping his arm.

‘Oh my god!’ You laugh. ‘Notting Hill. We’ll watch Notting Hill. Holy fuck, it’s so bad when you’re stoned, you have no idea.’

Frankie groans beside you, leaning forward again to grab a bag of chocolate pretzels. He rips them open and offers one to you.

‘Whatever you say, boss.’ He smiles.

Halfway through the film, Frankie’s eyes begin to seriously droop. You can’t blame him. It must have been a long day.

When his head drops to your shoulder, you let him cuddle in. He stays there for a while, but when he wakes with a start at the soreness, you manoeuvre him to turn and lay with his head on your lap. He’s pliant and soft in your hands, sighing with relief as he settles. You run a hand through his curls, scratching at his scalp, twisting strands gently around your finger. You stroke and scratch absentmindedly, watching Hugh Grant’s dramatic confession, only remembering what you’re doing when a deep snore resonates from below you.

You look down to find Frankie sound asleep, peaceful face turned up towards you. You admire his silky hair, the scruff of his beard, the heart shaped patch on the side of his face. His soft, full bottom lip, strong nose, the slope and sweep of his brow. You smile at him, something stirring in your belly.

‘Little baby cow.’ You murmur to yourself, and bite your lip to keep from smiling any wider.

---

The first weekend you have off together comes weeks after Frankie moves in.

You have a long, cosy lie in before running your respective errands in the morning, planning to reconvene in the afternoon with food and movies and your other favourite pastime.

By some miracle, you get home before Frankie, and unload your bag of snacks and oven food onto the kitchen table. You’re just organising it, putting away what needs to be in the fridge, when Frankie steps through the front door with a crate of soda and your favourite flowers in his other hand.

‘Hey,’ he grins at you, kicking the door shut before stepping into the room and holding out the blooms. ‘These are for you.’

You take the flowers carefully, admiring the colours, the form, the texture. You look back at him with shining eyes, and Frankie blushes.

‘How did you -’

He shrugs, moving to put the soda in the fridge. With his back to you, he says -

‘You mentioned them once, ‘bout a week after I moved in.’

Your heart melts a little, touched at the care, the thought.

‘Just thought, ya know - don’t need an occasion. Sometimes it’s just nice to pick something up and say I thought of you.’

You blush at his words, just as he turns back around and spots on the table -

‘Holy shit,’ he says, picking up the chocolate covered pretzels. ‘I was just thinking of these! I didn't get any while I was out and they’re my -’ He looks up at you, a knowing smile creeping across his lips.

‘Your favourite,’ you say. ‘I saw them and thought of you.’

Frankie laughs, stepping forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘Dream fuckin’ team.’ He says.

You’re both back in your pyjamas within ten minutes, sat on Frankie’s bed, a joint on the bedside table ready to go.

He flicks through the home screen of his Playstation, settling on Red Dead Redemption 2, starting up the game as you lean out his window to dispel the first stream of smoke. You pass it back and forth between you, and when it’s done Frankie chucks the roach in his bin. You climb underneath the duvet and watch Arthur Morgan’s adventures through hooded eyes, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. He’s warm and solid beneath you, and you wrap your hands around his arm, breathing him in. You watch in rapt fascination as he tracks down carvings in the mountains, giggle and scold him when he barrels down the wrong side of the roads, and swat at him when his horse gets hit by a train. He loads back up his previous save to get her back, and you visit a time traveller, hunt for vampires in Saint Denis, and squeal when a UFO appears over an abandoned hut filled with rotted bodies. He tells you the stories of the characters in a spaced out slur, and you immerse yourself in the sunshine, the rain, the snow, the mists. You close your eyes to the sounds of hooves, of birds, of nature, of Frankie’s strong heartbeat and his deep breathing.

At some point in the evening, you wake again, sitting and stretching. Frankie smiles sleepily down at you.

‘I’m gonna head to bed in a bit.’ He says, and you smile at him, kneading your neck.

‘No worries,’ you mumble. ‘I’ll head to mine, too. Catch you in the morning.’

Frankie fist bumps you as you stumble towards the door.

‘Thanks for hanging out.’ He says. You snort at him before opening the door.

‘No worries, Fish,’ you say, ‘I’m sure I was great company.’

He grins back, and you blow a kiss before snicking the door shut.

Your own sheets are blissfully cool, and you turn on a little quiet music to get yourself off to sleep. The soft, slow jangle of guitars and low voices do the trick, and if you turn your head just so, you can still smell Frankie on your pyjama top.

---

When you come through to the kitchen the next morning, Frankie is already cooking breakfast. He looks cosy in his old Lakers top and sweats that only just cling to his hips. It tightens something in your belly.

‘I’m making eggs and bacon,’ he says, before gesturing with a spatula to the percolator. ‘There’s coffee over there if you want some.’

‘You tryna seduce me or something?’ You ask, waggling your eyebrows. Frankie laughs at you, gorgeous little crows feet crinkling in the corners of his eyes. You have to look away quickly to hide your own gooey expression.

‘No,’ he says, voice grappling with something of an edge - laughter, a little teasing, ‘I’m not in the business of fucking my friends.’ You flash your eyes back to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, and he’s peering at you from below his eyelashes, biting his lip. A grin blows out across your cheeks, and you bite your lip back.

‘Unfortunately for you, I am,’ you sigh, sweeping your hand across the edge of the kitchen table before glancing at him, his attention turned back to breakfast. ‘Santi still single?’

Frankie freezes over the eggs he’s cooking. He looks up at you slowly. Your heart dips in your chest, legs flooding with the feeling that you’ve definitely said the wrong thing.

‘Are you - are you… interested?’

You feel your cheeks heat.

‘I -’ you rub your face, trying to organise your thoughts. Frankie feels something like a freight train headed towards him. ‘No,’ You say, turning fully towards him, smiling a little. ‘No, I’m not. He’s great - he’s a lovely guy, but no.’

Frankie nods, once, twice, before staring back down at the yellow in the pan. He can’t remember what he was doing. Frying or scrambling? They’re too far gone now. He’ll have to try and pass them off as an omelette.

‘It was a stupid joke.’ You mumble, and Frankie shakes his head at the pan.

‘No, no,’ he says, ‘I just, ya know, if you were -’

You smile at him.

‘You’d set me up?’

Frankie shrugs. You smirk.

‘Well then. If you’re patient, sugar, I might make my way through everyone. Finish with you, of course, make sure we last a little longer.’

Frankie’s head whips up, jaw dropped. He breathes your name, and you laugh.

‘My god, Fish. I’m kidding.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Frankie laughs, relieved, disappointed. You dance around the kitchen table towards him, reaching out your hands to squish his cheeks, chanting got ya, got ya, as Frankie curls the dish cloth from over his shoulder to whip you with it.

You shriek and leap out of his way, running from him.

Frankie makes no move to follow you, turning off the stove instead, plating up the eggs and bacon. You’re still giggling at him, now armed with a dish cloth of your own. He points at you with the spatula.

‘Sit.’ He says, and you laugh again, taking a seat as Frankie brings over the plates and cutlery. As he settles, you leap up. Frankie watches you.

‘Where are you going?’ He says, spearing some egg with his fork. You return to the table with two mugs of coffee.

‘Can’t forget the most important part of the meal.’ You say, sitting and slurping loudly, winking at him over the ceramic.

Frankie laughs at you through a mouthful of food.

‘You coming to Will’s tonight?’ He asks, swallowing.

You hum a little.

‘Yeah, guess so.’ You say.

‘Boys’ll be there,’ he says, ‘So you’ll know a few faces. Not sure who else.’

You nod, shovelling bacon into your mouth. Frankie smiles.

‘Sure,’ you say, ‘I’ll come.’

That night, you find yourselves round at Will’s again. What was supposed to be a relatively quiet poker night has inevitably turned into too many people drinking too much booze, but he never seems to mind.

Frankie is back leaning on the sofa, listening to Santi and Will talk. He’s laughing, thinking he should go and grab you in a minute - he doesn’t know how many of these stories you’ve heard, but he’s sure you’d enjoy them. He has a compulsion to watch you laugh, to see you enjoy the people around you, to feel the shine of your company, to see the way you look at him, eyes dancing with amusement, always as though there is some kind of joke you’re thinking of that only he will understand.

When he looks around the living room, he can’t find you. It’s not unusual. He knows by now that you’ll be off chatting to whoever is lucky enough to find you, and he finds himself moving in the direction of the kitchen, pushing through the door beads. When he doesn’t see you in there, he catches Benny at the sink, asking if he’s seen you.

‘Sure,’ he says, ‘I was just with her. She’s out on the porch swing.’

A muscle flexes in Frankie’s jaw as he moves away from Benny, that familiar creep of possessiveness crawling up his throat. Stupid, stupid. He’s already asked him, knows that he wants nothing from you. So why does it irritate him so much?

You’re outside on the swing just like Benny said, gazing up at the stars as Frankie slumps down beside you. He bounces the chair, and you giggle at him.

‘Having a good time?’ You ask. He nods.

‘Yeah. You?’

You nod, tilting your face to look at him. Frankie doesn’t know when he decided it, but he’s sure your eyes are the prettiest he’s ever seen. He loves the way they shine out at him now in the glow of the porchlight, warm and kind and soft. That sunny feeling he gets as he watches you moves something silken and deep within him, something lonely.

I was just with her. Unfortunately for you, I am -

‘What?’ You say softly.

‘Nothin’,’ he shrugs. ‘Just glad I met you.’

You scoff lightly at him, knocking your head against his shoulder.

‘Glad I met you, too, sugar.’ You murmur, and when Frankie meets your eye, his breath seizes in his lungs.

You are so close.

Your eyes dart between his own and his mouth, lingering on the shape of his lips, the flecks of grey in his moustache. He can’t move as you lean closer to him, as you ghost two fingers over his wrist. Your eyes are burning, teasing, curious as he stares down at your lips, soft and inviting, curved around so many wonderful words, wrapped around the end of a joint or a beer bottle -

‘There you are,’ Will says, bursting through the back door. You startle away from Frankie, and he feels dizzy at the change, at the rush of what was about to happen. The warm press of your body against his. ‘C’mon,’ says Will, ‘We’ve got a poker game to win.’

You watch as Frankie hauls himself away from you, settling back in the swinging chair. When the door shuts behind the two men, you press a hand to your chest, feeling the rattle of your heartbeat.

---

You wake as though through fog, to a noise you can’t quite place.

It’s quiet, but almost right by your head. A slick, rhythmic sound, heavy breaths, quiet groans, curses. Through slipping sleep, you process them, too tired to be embarrassed, to be thinking straight. The sounds of Frankie jerking off go straight to your core, and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as you listen, as you slip your hand beneath the elastic of your panties and join him, careful to muffle your own sounds to hear him better.

You become frantic as he grows louder, as he mutters to himself, as his bed moves just enough to squeak. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he looses a particularly loud fuck, and then a strangely familiar word, followed by a long, low groan. You come hard on your fingers, panting as the heat subsides, as you hear Frankie leave his room and head to the bathroom.

Languid and liquid in the sunbeams on your blankets, it takes you longer than it should to decipher what you’d heard. Longer than it should to wonder if it really was your name he’d gasped as he came.

Frankie needs air.

He needs to get out of the apartment, so while he’s drinking his morning coffee, he drafts up a list of things to do. Parcels to return, small things to buy, a new coffee shop he’d like to try out. Anything to try and clear you out his head. The feel of your body pressed against his on the seat, the ghosting of your fingers on the inside of his wrist, the flame in your eyes. The way you’d jumped when Will found you, whether you meant it, whether he was imagining it, what he was going to do, what he was not going to do -

You shuffle into the kitchen still in your pyjamas, stifling a yawn behind a hand. You help yourself to coffee from the percolator, and Frankie tells you he’s heading out. You nod and give him a squeeze, saying you’re off to the gym, anyway. Frankie tries not to think of how your ass looks in your blue leggings, and sets off down the stairwell.

He stays out for as long as possible, breathing in the fresh, spring air, looking into shop windows and petting passing dogs. He only decides to call it a day when his stomach starts growling and his feet start aching.

He feels good, energised.

Maybe he should get out more often.

Frankie shuts the front door gently behind him, placing his keys in the bowl. He says your name, only half expecting a reply. You didn’t say when you were heading out, or when you’d be back.

He yanks his boots off by the shoe rack you set up last week, and tucks them away neatly. His feet carry him towards the kitchen, fingers itching to hold a cup of coffee and sandwich before a soft sound stops him. His heart leaps in his throat, and he freezes, not daring to take another step.

He registers the soft sound of the running shower, and anticipation lodges itself in his belly. He waits, heart hammering in his chest, and almost moves before he definitely, definitely hears it again.

You moan softly on the other side of the bathroom door, and Frankie’s eyes flutter shut.

He should go. He should absolutely go, but he can see from here in the hallway that the bathroom door is open just a crack. And he has always been a flawed person, which is why it doesn’t surprise him that when he goes to shut it, to knock, to move past, he can’t keep himself from looking. Can’t stop his eyes from finding you, back against the tile, hair dripping down your shoulders, water spattering across your skin as you stand with your legs apart, one hand spreading you open, fingers moving fast across your clit. Frankie grips onto the door handle as his eyes close again.

Because he knows what’s about to happen. Hot shame floods through him as his cock hardens embarrassingly fast, a thin ringing in his ears as he opens his eyes again, takes in the soft flesh of your thighs, the flow of water, the rivulets tracing your skin, your glistening core, the way your fingers move so desperately -

And Frankie can see it, can feel it, can taste it when he imagines opening the door and climbing there with you, not giving you a chance to be surprised before he sinks to his knees and replaces your hand with his mouth.

With shaking fingers, he unbuttons his jeans, unzips his fly, and begins to stroke his cock.

He has no idea how long you’ve been in there for, but he watches closely, ravenously for your tells. It’s not gonna take him long, but he wants to watch you fall apart first.

He watches you move your weight so you slump a little lower on the wall, a harsh gasp leaving your lips. He watches as your hips twitch and roll forwards as you slow your pace, rubbing harder instead of faster, and he barely contains his own moan as you whine, high-pitched and needy, echoing off the walls. He watches your tummy clench with each stroke of your fingers, stares with drooling amazement as you snake a hand up your body to grasp and play with your tits, squeezing them, rolling your nipples between your fingers, pinching them as hard as you can. Frankie grunts when you gasp out a fuck, and for a long, heart clenching second, he thinks you hear him. You slow your movements, trying to peer through the dark crack in the door.

Frankie can’t move, can’t stop fisting his cock as he watches you, precum dripping through his fingers, the dirty thrill of getting caught spurring him on.

You listen carefully, turning your head to the side to see if you can catch any more noises. Satisfied you’re still alone, you continue, this time quickly finding a pace which Frankie can tell will send you off the edge. Your wet skin, the slick sounds of your fingers even over the running water, and your moans, gasps, curses, getting even louder.

Frankie stares still, enraptured by the goddess in front of him unravelling herself, and he wants nothing more than to touch you, taste you, smell you. He tries not to think of what he’d give to be inside you, but a soft moan escapes him anyway. Imagining the clench of your warm, wet cunt, hearing you make those noises for him, the slip of your wet skin in his grasp, your tits in his hands, the bite of your teeth on his shoulder sends him rocketing to his orgasm. He barely has time to wrap the bottom of his t-shirt around his cock, biting his fist as he empties himself, opening his eyes just in time to watch your body spasm and clench, your back arch, your head knock against the tiles as you cry out oh fuck, oh fuck, oh god.

Once you finish riding it out, whimpering and twitching, you close your eyes and breathe heavily. Frankie feels feverish, head tipping forwards onto the door frame as he tucks himself gently back into his boxers and pulls his jeans back up. He takes one last breath before a short, shrill beep echoes throughout the apartment.

Your eyes snap to the door again as you jump, and Frankie flinches, slowly backing away as you cock your head at the gap. Beep. Frankie can feel his pulse in his ears as he reaches the front door with soft treads, managing to open it quietly through his blind panic just as you turn the shower off. He slams it shut, calling your name from the entryway, cringing at the breaking huskiness of his voice. He waits a few seconds as though he’s taking off his shoes before running to his room, hearing the snick of the bathroom door closing just as his shuts behind him.

Frankie leans against the wood, forcing short breaths in and out his nose. Beep.

The smoke detector again, on the other side of the door. It shocks him back to life as he rips his shirt off, stuffing it deep in his laundry hamper before scrambling for a new one, praying to whatever god is out there that you hadn’t just caught him in such an obvious lie. That you hadn’t just caught him jerking off to you masturbating in the shower.

Frankie leaves his room as quickly as possible, knowing that the longer he stays in there the more likely it is you’ll know something is wrong. He yanks the door open, stepping out into the hallway, stopping to listen on the hardwood floor. There’s not a peep from the rest of the flat, but the door to the bathroom is now wide open, small tendrils of steam slipping out into the hallway. Frankie takes a deep breath and steps lightly down the hallway to the kitchen, intent on coffee this time, on something to distract him, something to do with his hands. Beep.

He works on autopilot as he pours the grounds into the percolator, throwing up a mental wall every time a glimmer of your body passes through his mind. When he sets it over the stove top he grips the counter, shoulders hunched, chewing his cheek as he breathes heavily through his nose. This time, the beep of the smoke detector makes him jump, and he swipes a hand over his mouth.

‘We need to change the batteries in that.’ You say, and Frankie flinches as you breeze past him into the kitchen. He can’t look at you, shame and arousal colouring his neck, all the way up to the tips of his ears. He makes a noise in his throat, and you shoot him a look over your shoulder.

‘You okay?’ You ask. He swings his eyes to you, and you look back at him the same as always. Warm, kind. You can’t know. You must be oblivious, and somehow that makes it worse.

‘Yeah,’ he says, and tries to smile, ‘Just need a coffee.’

His eyes try not to linger on your body, try not to linger on your lips, your hands. He grips the countertop harder. Stop it. Stop thinking about it.

You smile back at him.

‘If you’re sure,’ you say, sidling closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. You squeeze and wink up at him. ‘Can you make me one? I’m exhausted.’

Frankie tries to muffle his sharp intake of air with a cough. I’m exhausted. How long had you been in there? Had you even been to the gym? Or had you just spent the morning grinding and moaning and coming -

‘Sure.’ He croaks, and you frown at him.

‘You’re really feeling okay?’ You ask, bringing the back of your hand to his forehead. ‘Might be coming down with something. Tired and coughing.’

He shakes his head a little too enthusiastically.

‘No, I’m fine.’ He says, interrupted only by the beep of the smoke alarm. You pull a face at it, and he moves to take the coffee off the stove.

‘Go get the ladder,’ he says, ‘And I’ll change the batteries.’

You swish out of the kitchen, and Frankie scrubs his face with his hands, groaning out a god before taking two mugs from the cupboard and filling them. He’s just finished pouring in the creamer when you struggle back through the doorway, huffing under the weight of the stepladder.

‘Coffee’s there.’ He says, jerking his head in the direction of the mugs as he takes it from you. Frankie sets it up under the detector, stepping up the first couple of rungs before you stand in front of him. He quirks an eyebrow at you, and you tighten your hands around the ladder’s sides, holding it steady.

‘Don’t want you doing any damage to yourself.’ You say softly.

Frankie nods and continues climbing, trying not to think of how close you are. He focuses as he reaches the ceiling, stretching up to unscrew the device.

You swallow as you’re exposed to the slither of skin the action reveals, golden in the afternoon light, and the dark hair which trails down, down, below the waistline of his jeans.

‘Take it for me.’ He says from above you, and you drag your eyes away to meet his, flushing as you reach up to grab the alarm, fingers brushing. You watch as Frankie’s gaze darkens, as he takes you in, flushed, lips bitten, standing at the perfect height. The greedy way you’d been looking at his stomach, water, thighs, fingers -

‘Thank you.’ He says, and you take the detector away to replace the batteries, your fingers shaking. Frankie watches you hungrily, the curve of your jeans, the slope of your neck when you flick your hair behind you. He’s still watching when you turn back to him and hand him the device.

‘Good girl.’ He says. Heat rushes through you at the words, your breath catching in your throat. Frankie’s movements falter only slightly before he’s reaching up again to screw the detector back in. You stare at his belly, the coarse hair, and try to think of anything but nuzzling your nose against the skin, breathing him in, unbuttoning his jeans, taking his cock in your mouth, thinking about what he’d look like, what he’d feel like, what he’d taste like, whether it would be as good as what you’d imagined in the shower -

Frankie steps down from the ladder, prizing your hands off the metal, folding it shut and carrying it back out the room.

‘All done.’ He says.

You run a hand through your hair, pinching the bridge of your nose. Jesus.

You take a seat at the dining room table, and when Frankie joins you, you drink your coffee in near silence.

At work, later that evening, you shut yourself in the bathroom during your break. You bite your lip so hard it bleeds when you make yourself come, embarrassingly quick, to thoughts of what might have happened if you’d kissed Frankie’s stomach on the ladder. The uncomfortable ache in your core barely sated, your panties soaked, you try to do anything to distract yourself for the rest of the shift. Anything to keep your hands busy.

And in his bed, later that night, when he’s sure you must be asleep, Frankie takes his cock in his hand again. It doesn’t take him long, guiltily indulging in what he’d seen from the crack in the bathroom door. He comes with a quiet groan and a whisper of your name, wishing that you were there to lick the salt off his chest.

He falls asleep to thoughts of you, like he has done from the night you met.

---

A week passes, and Frankie's pretty sure he's going insane.

He can’t shower without picturing the way you had stood there, moaning and gasping. He can’t stop thinking of the way you had looked at him on the ladder, the way you’d looked at him sat on Will’s porch. He has to jerk off at least twice a day, and aside from it being a fucking inconvenience, he’s beginning to feel like a creep.

He thinks he needs to get laid.

There’s a girl you work with - Tasha - who gave Frankie her number not long after you started living together. She was pretty, nice enough, but Frankie hadn’t been looking for anything, and he certainly didn’t want to shit where you ate. But he texts her anyway. It’s late and sleazy, but she says yes. They meet at a bar, and when they stumble through the front door, you’re already home.

You’re sprawled out on your bed, a joint already rolled, leftovers from work in the fridge, ready to hunker down and fill Frankie in on your day, ready to hear him tell you about his, watch some shit on the television. Tonight felt like a David Attenborough night.

You jump as the front door bangs open, as two sets of feet come tumbling in. Your heart beats loudly in your chest at the noise, at the intrusion, unsure whether you should leap up to defend your roommate or hide. Then you hear the wet sounds of kissing, the low mumble of Frankie’s words, a high-pitched laugh you recognise as the front door shuts and Frankie’s opens.

You wait with baited breath, somehow unable to believe what is happening. Your fingers flutter on your chest, anxiously pressing the skin there.

Frankie’s never brought anyone home before. You don’t quite know what to do with yourself.

You’ve also never quite thought about how thin the wall is between your bedroom and his.

The realisation makes your skin flush, heated even more when you hear the mumbles and groans from the other side of the wall. Frankie saying something in a language you don’t understand, and Tasha’s breathy reply.

You don’t know how long you listen for, frozen on your mattress as you listen to the creak of Frankie’s bed, the whines and moans falling from them. The low timber of Frankie’s speech sinks itself into the centre of your body, heating and melting. You close your eyes as you try to pick out what he’s saying, as you listen for his panting breaths, his low moans. You can feel your underwear growing wet with slick, your body tightening - hot - and then Tasha cries out.

The sound shocks you from your reverie, shame, annoyance imploring your body to move. You raise up on your knees and pound your fist against the wall. Everything falls silent.

You breathe deeply for a moment before Frankie says something quietly, answered only by Tasha’s low giggle. Your tongue feels like ash in your throat as they both say a couple more things, more laughs pouring through the wall before you’re up, pulling on a hoodie over your tank top, leaving your room.

There’s another shock of silence as Frankie and Tasha hear you moving, but you’re already pulling your trainers on. You can hear Frankie say something on the other side of his door, can hear it getting louder as he moves towards it, but you’re slamming the front door closed before he can intercept you.

Your Uber ride is quiet, seething. You chew your lip, clench and unclench your fists. Your phone buzzes in your grip several times, but you don’t check it.

When you reach the low, suburban house with the cacti out front, you waste no time worrying about whether you look pretty enough. Because he’s always said you are on the nights when he’s had too much to drink.

You should know better before you raise your hand to knock. But you don’t spare a second thought as your knuckles rap against the wood. You shut down all other thoughts as the door swings open, him knowing exactly when to expect you as soon as you’d called. Something about military training and timing.

‘Hey.’ Benny says, standing in the doorway, moving aside to let you pass.

‘Hey.’ You smile back at him as you step into his house, toeing off your trainers, stripping yourself of your hoodie.

Benny eyes you hungrily as you stand before him in your tank top. You feel the heat coil in your belly again as he steps towards you, the slick in your underwear pooling as he kisses you hard and hot and open mouthed, as you tangle your hands in his hair, as you scratch at the bare skin of his hip beneath his top. You moan against him when you feel him already hard at your stomach.

‘Bed.’ He growls.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #peach pit #tommy's party #you and your friends #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #Spotify

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plutonian-moon · 9 months

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☆° persona charts observations ! ☆°

take what resonates leave what doesn't ! ☆° yes i come back after a long time of not posting anything <3 i was just having a very hard time with my mental health and physical health but i am kinda doing better so yeah ! :D

mercury in venus persona chart can show u how u r expressing ur love by using words etc its can also indicate if u have issues w/ expressing love verbally, some examples ☆° :

mercury Rx / mercury-saturn (hard aspects) : can indicate that u have some issues showing love verbally ☆°

scorpio mercury / 8H mercury : u can like having deep conversations with ur loved ones and u can expressing ur love very deeply & sometimes obssesive tbh ☆°

pisces mercury / 12H mercury / gemini mercury / 3H mercury : u can expressing ur love by writing love letters etc just words of affirmations can be important love language here

asc + 1H planets in venus persona chart can show u what type of beauty u have for example ☆° :

scorpio rising / 1H pluto : magnetic, dark beauty maybe u look good with red & black color vampire vibes fr ☆

virgo rising / 1H mercury : earthy, youngtful beauty, u can look pretty with brown & forest green colors ! ☆

leo rising / 1H sun : first of all u can getting many compliments bc of ur hair they can be very good looking, u can have this very glowing and shining aura, u can look so fine with gold, yellow, orange colors ☆

moon in venus persona chart is what u need emotionally in relationships ☆° :

virgo moon / 6H moon : acts of service can be important for u, u can like when someone does small things for u ! ☆

pisces moon / 12H moon : DEEP CONNECTION!!, u want someone who is emphatic, helpful and who will listen to u when u need it ☆

gemini moon / 3H moon : def words of affirmations can be somethig u want, u need someone who is good at communicating bc dry texters can makes u feel unwanted etc, u need someone who likes to joke and is matching ur vibe ☆°

mercury in mars persona chart can show u how u expressing ur angry verbally/by using words, some examples :

pisces mercury / 12H mercury / cancer mercury / 4H mercury : yall tend to be more on the passive agressive side tbh, probably will also stay silent with 12H mercury its can indicate that u will most likely hide ur thoughts durning argument hm

aries mercury / 1H mercury / leo mercury / 5H mercury / gemini mercury / 3H mercury : will be the ones who are more argumentive and confident durning arguments tbh.. can say alot of things that will hurt peoples even without realizing that lol

nemesis (123) is asteroid that talks about enemies looking at nemesis persona chart is very interesting esp take a look at the 12th house (hidden enemies), 7th house (open enemies) and ascendent\1st house planets + ofc ur nemesis zodiac sign, house, aspects and degree all of this can tell u about ur types of enemies that u have , example in ur nemesis persona chart :

7H cancer \ 7H moon \ 7H neptune \ 7H pisces \ 1H moon \ 1H neptune \ pisces rising \ cancer rising : open enemies that can be very passive agressive, can have victim complex and use gashliting alot, when u have 7H neptune \ pisces rising probably their actions that they do are confusing for u for example someone can one day be ur enemie and acts that they hate u annd the text day love bombing u (since neptune is planet of confusion)

webb (3041) persona chart will tell u how others see u on internet esp take a look at ascendent \ 1st house planets \ ruler of 1st house

chance of 12H moon \ 7H ruler in 12H person in venus persona chart of telling u that they have a feelings\crushing on u are very small😭 they are good at hiding feelings for someone, can be very scared of rejection thats why they will not tell u abt it

saturn 1H \ 7H saturn \ venus-saturn (hard aspects) in venus persona chart indicate a hard lesson in love in this life time, probably many karmic relationships, in love can be very awkward, saturn 1H and venus-saturn (hard aspects) even asc-saturn (hard aspects) indicate that u dont know how to take compliments, possible low self esteem, in general very beautiful but insecure peoples

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mooooonnnzz · 1 year

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what love will do to you // neteyam gn!x reader

the stages of getting to know neteyam n falling in love 💚

you and neteyam being awkward teenagers in love

tuk being tuk and gushing abt reader and neteyam

overall very fluffy n cute maybe cringe?? depends on whos reading tbh

3k words

rushed ending my bad

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!

READER ALSO HAS CURLY HAIR length is not specfied i think

🐚 Your first encounter with the boy was when you noticed your people surrounding a certain area on the reef’s shore. Pushing past them, you stood beside your sister Tsireya, who was busy staring at someone in particular. Curious, you followed her gaze. A small gasp left you, realizing why everyone gathered here. Na’vi from the Omatikaya Clan were standing right in front of you, all huddled up together. You’ve heard of them from your father but you would have never thought you would see multiple of them standing right before you. The first thing you noticed from them was their skin, their skin complexion was much darker than yours. Your attention was brought to their swaying tails. They looked completely different from your tail. They were shorter and thinner and they certainly don’t look like they can be used for swimming. Your gaze was captured by one of the brothers, he seemed to be the eldest brother with how he carried himself with confidence. Chest puffed out and eyes narrowly scanning the crowd, looking for any danger that could be hiding among the crowd. Those very same eyes that were once surveying the area for danger softened upon seeing you. His pupils dilated and his lips slightly parted, his tail slowly swished behind him. He looked like he was put under a trance. Embarrassed and a bit shy from the sudden attention from the boy, you looked down to your feet timidly and began to play with the sand. Blocking out the back and forth conversation of your dad with Jake Sully.

🐚 You haven’t seen the boy at all since his arrival and to say you weren’t a little sad was a lie. He caught your eye the moment you saw him and the energy he radiated was alluring. Sitting on the shore, you mindlessly drew on the wet sand as your mind raced with thousands of thoughts. You failed to notice that the boy you were daydreaming about was making his way towards you, his tail nervously swaying behind him as he approached you. “Hello?” He stood beside you, tilting his head a bit when you didn’t respond. He called you out again, only this time, your name slipped past his lips. You broke out of the haze you were in and looked for the unfamiliar person who called out your name. You noticed a pair of darker blue feet stationed right next to you, wandering your eyes up their legs, your eyes were reunited with the familiar yellow ones. The edge of his eyes crinkled up as he smiled, he caught your attention. You smiled back awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say. “I was told by your sister that you would be here.” He said, sitting down on the sand with you. “Did she also tell you my name?” You ask, fingers nervously fiddling with the necklace that hung around your neck. He nodded and it was silent for a moment. You were internally battling with yourself if this was a comforting silence or an awkward silence, but you knew that this was awkward, real awkward. “Sorry for looking at you weirdly earlier.” He spoke up, startling you. “You don’t need to apologize. I was looking at you as well.” You admit, hands going back to thoughtlessly drawing on the sand. “In a bad way or good way?” His question caught you off-guard but you couldn’t help but smile over him worrying over something like that. “Good way. The moment I saw you, I felt confidence and authority bleed out from you. That caught my attention.” You tell him, looking over to him to gauge at his reaction. He was stupidly smiling to himself and his eyes looked soft. A comfortable silence fell and you and him enjoyed each other's presence. The moment was cut short when you heard your sister call out to you, before you left you and him properly introduced yourself. You learned that the boy's name was Neteyam.

🐚 The third time you saw him was when you were with your sister, Tsireya. You and her both were teaching the Sully family the way of the sea. Tsireya was focused on Neteyam’s younger brother, Lo’ak and you were focused on Neteyam. While you were explaining one of the breathing exercises, Neteyam never stopped looking at you. His attention was glued onto you and nothing that happened around him caught his attention like how you caught his. You knew that he was staring at you, looking at you with that same look he had when he first saw you. You felt a bit shy under his gaze, he looked at you with so much curiosity and adoration you didn’t know what to do with yourself. And so came the time for Neteyam to do the breathing exercises himself, you were worried that he was going to fail miserably with how little he was paying attention to your words. But surprisingly enough, he knew how long he needed to suck in air and how slowly he needed to exhale. Although, he was struggling to hold his breath. Scooting a little closer to him, you placed your palm on his stomach. “You need to breathe in from your stomach.” You instructed him. Shakily, he followed what you told him. A little shaky and nervous, but perfect enough to satisfy you. You smiled at him. “You did really well,” You said, removing your hand from his stomach. “Was worried at first, you weren’t paying attention with how much you were staring at me.” You laughed at his bewildered expression. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He said, his eyes looking down to his lap. “It’s fine. I really didn’t mind. Honest.” You put your hand on his knee to reassure him. He looked at your hand then your face, his ears flickered softly and he smiled at you.

🐚 The fourth time you saw him was when you and him were underwater. You were showing him everything the reef had to offer. Seeing his eyes blown wide in amazement made you laugh every time. He would get so blown away by the simplest things, it was cute. While swimming he found a sea urchin, he enthusiastically motioned to come closer. You didn’t know what it was until you were by his side, eyes looking at the spiked ball. And before you could pull his curious hands away from the spiky sea urchin, he’s already grabbing it. The urchin pricked his whole finger. He gasped, forgetting that he was underwater and got a lung full of water. He kicked his legs up while swimming up, urchin still attached to his hand. You followed in suit. Sprouting up from the ocean, he coughed up the water that had entered his lungs. He lifted his hand up from the water and almost screamed, the sea urchin had attached itself to his whole palm. He yelled out your name. “Get it off me!” He said while also trying to pull it off with his other hand. “No, no! Don’t touch it.” You laugh. His hand froze in midair, his stomach swarming with butterflies at the sound of your laugh. “S-So what do I do?” He was helpless, the pain on his palm evergrowing. “Stay there, let me get some palm leaves.” You swam to shore and grabbed a rather large palm leaf. Swimming back to him, you encased the sea urchin with the leaf. “I’m going to pull, okay? This might hurt.” You warn him. “How much?” He squeaked out. “Not too much, I’m hoping.” The loud ‘WHAT’ you received from Neteyam would always be funny to you. Without any warning you yanked out the sea urchin. Much to your surprise, the spikes didn’t break off. Now what was left on his palms were tiny holes. “How are you feeling?” You turned over to Neteyam. His eyes were locked shut and lips were tightly pressed together. “Neteyam?” You called out. One of his eyes pried open and when he noticed the sea urchin was off his palm, he visibly relaxed. “Oh, that wasn’t too bad.” He looked at his palms, cringing at the holes in his hands. That was when you got the idea to mess with him. To kind of mimic the feeling of the sea urchin attaching to his leg, you knocked his leg against one of the corals, lightly scraping his legs. “There’s another urchin on your leg!” You pointed at his leg underwater. “Wait, really?!” He yelled out, forgetting about his hand and looking down at his leg. Patting around there was nothing there. “There’s nothing there?” Your laugh graced his ears once more. He looked over to you and felt his heart warm at the sight. He couldn’t be mad at you when he heard his favorite thing in the world. Your laugh.

🐚 The fifth time you saw him was when you were walking around the Marui pods, aimlessly walking around. A family could be heard talking loudly from one of the Marui Pods. You weren’t going to investigate until you heard a familiar voice. Neteyam’s voice. Peering in the pods, you saw that he and his family were eating breakfast, chattering and bickering as they ate. You saw how Lo’ak was teasing Neteyam over something. Neteyam ignored whatever Lo’ak was saying and attempted to eat his food peacefully. Lo’ak said something that caught his other siblings' attention, his two sisters who you’ve seen around the reef. The younger sister laughed loudly while the older quietly giggled, saying something to Neteyam that made him come to the point where he had enough. Wordlessly, he put his utensil down and stood up. His siblings called out to him but he ignored them and walked outside where you were at, shamelessly watching the whole ordeal happen. Not having enough time to dive into water and swim away, Neteyam noticed you. He said your name, shocked to see you at his pod. “What are you doing here?” He asked, scurrying you and him away from his siblings' prying eyes. “I was walking around when I heard your family.” You told him. You couldn’t even come up with a lie; it was like he prevented you from doing so. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that we were loud, I didn’t mean to disturb your walk.” He was so quick to take the blame, so quick to apologize for his family that it surprised you. Shaking your head, you said, “Don’t apologize. You and your family are very entertaining to watch.” Neteyam opened his mouth, ready to respond to you but was interrupted by his younger sister’s shrill of what you hoped to be excitement. “Neteyam is talking to them! Look at how close they are to each other!” She pointed at you and Neteyam. Quickly, you and him took multiple steps back away from each other. You didn’t even notice that the two of you were so close until Neteyam’s sister called you out. “Tuk, leave them alone!” Neteyam’s other sister came out of the pod to grab her little sister. Before she left, she gave you a short wave and went back inside. You could hear the family pick up on a conversation, all hushed and quiet. You knew they were talking about you and Neteyam and you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered over it. “I’m sorry about them.” He whispered, walking back to you. “Once again, don’t be sorry. I find it funny.” You whisper back, raising your head a little bit to fully see his face. “Neteyam, why don’t you invite them for dinner?” His younger brother teased from behind. “Lo’ak!” Neteyam was about to dive straight for his brother and yank at his hair but your voice stopped him. “I would love to accompany you and your family for dinner, that is. If you ask me too.” Such a bold thing for you to say but you couldn’t help it, really. Neteyam makes you feel so confident and sure of yourself while simultaneously making you incredibly nervous and second guessing yourself. Neteyam froze for a bit like he was doused with a bucket of ice cold water. But when he came to, he cleared his throat and asked you to join his family for dinner. You couldn’t say no and accepted his invitation.

🐚 “How long are you going to be at the Sully’s?” Your mother, Ronal asked as she twirled one of your curls around her fingers. “Not long.” You replied briefly, putting on earrings that have blue miniature shells on them. Your mother fluffed up your hair, a drawled out sigh leaving her lips. “Do you really have to go over there?” She places her hands on your shoulders and looks at you through the reflection of the ocean. “Yes, mother.” You can see her disappointed face through the rippling water, the all known face of disapproval. You didn’t say anything afterwards, you knew all too well this would’ve started an argument between you and your mom. She wasn’t very fond of the Sully family, you knew that well enough not to bring them up in conversations much. But the moment you do, she acts like you have ripped her heart open and brought it to her on a silver platter. You breathed in and breathed out, ridding of any negative energy that consumed you. You were going to have fun tonight and not even your mom could ruin your mood. “You may go now. Do not stay for too long.” She decides to announce once again. “I won’t!” You said for what feels like the hundredth time. Standing up, you look at your reflection once more before skipping over to the pods. The large smile on your face never leaving.

🐚 The first person to greet you was Neteyam’s younger brother, Lo’ak. You had talked to Lo’ak a few times before now. “You look amazing.” He complimented. “Your curls look nicer too.” He added. You smiled shyly, thanking him for the compliments. “Lo’ak!” The all too familiar yell of his name, who could have possibly yelled out his name? “Looks like he heard me.” He whispered. You rolled your eyes at his childish antics. Lo’ak was yanked back, he screeched about his tail and that was all you heard before Neteyam shoved him inside the pod. Neteyam checked out your face and hair, smiling softly at the stunning sight that was in front of him. “You look…amazing.” He breathlessly said. “I know. Lo’ak told me.” You felt his finger brush against your hand. “I heard.” His fingers interlaced with yours. “I just wanted you to hear it from me.” He squeezed your hand. Your breath was taken away. You bit your lip nervously, eyes looking down at your intertwined hands then back at Neteyam. His head slowly leaned in, his eyes looking at your lips for a split second before looking back at your gorgeous eyes. “They look like they’re about to kiss.” Tuk squealed, breaking the small moment between you and Neteyam. Neteyam huffed out, leaning away from you. “Why don’t we have you meet my mom and dad?” Neteyam led you inside the pod. Instantly, you were met with Jake. Neteyam’s father. “Thank you for having me over.” You said. Jake opened his mouth but abruptly closed it. You turn your head over to Neteyam, mouthing a quick: “What happened?” You look back at his father who was staring intensely at you and Neteyam’s hands. Neteyam let go of your hand quickly, ready to apologize for his behavior but his dad smiled, washing away any remnants of his pissy look. “I’m just messing with you two, go on, sit.”

🐚 Dinner with the Sully’s was more than you could possibly ever imagine. They were so full of energy, their endless bickering was hilarious and they weren’t shy to hide their love for each other. At some points you felt like you were a part of their family. His mom was such a sweetheart as well, she treated you as if you were her own. With your stomach full and cheeks sore from laughing and smiling so much, you decided that was enough for tonight. Bidding everyone a goodbye, you left the family’s pod. Although not alone, a certain older brother was trailing after you. Calling out your name, you turned around and your heart softened at the sight of Neteyam. “Leaving so soon?” He frowned, holding your hand once again, only this time he was holding both. “Yeah.” Your eyes jumped from his captivating eyes you ever so adored to his light pink lips. “Can’t you stay a little longer?” His voice was hushed. “I wish I could.” You couldn’t deny the fact that you and Neteyam's face were drawing near. “Should I really be kissing you when your family could walk right in on us?” Lips were brushing against each other, your breath mixing in with his. “I really don’t care.” His lips pressed against yours. Awkwardly, your lips melded together. You and him obviously have no kissing experience, but that made it all better. You were Neteyam’s first kiss while he was yours. A sense of pride washed over you. You were Neteyam’s first. Neteyam untangled his hands from yours and grabbed onto your waist, pulling you closer. You parted from the kiss, panting heavily. “Stay for a little longer?” He quietly begged, giving you a slight pout. You placed your palms against his chest, pushing him away playfully. The hold he has on your waist has kept you encased in him. “I can’t, Nete.” You affectionately rolled your eyes at his pouty expression. “Can I kiss you once more?” How could you ever say no to that? Faces centimeters apart, an excited yell was heard from behind Neteyam. “They’re kissing!” Tuk cried out, her smile bigger than ever. “They’re kissing!” She repeated. “What, really?!” Lo’ak was in disbelief as he practically flew outside to see if Tuk was lying or not. You and Neteyam were standing at a respectful distance, pretending to be interested in something else. “Aren’t the stars lovely tonight?” Neteyam pointed at the sparkling specs in the sky. “So beautiful.” You commented. “Who’s kissing?” Jake could be heard from within the pod, his head peaking out to check on you and Neteyam. “No one is kissing anyone, sir!” Neteyam quickly responded. “You better not!” He said, slowly inching back in the pod. “Guess you have to go now.” Neteyam sighed out. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You asked. Neteyam nodded but before you left you kissed his cheek. “Bye, Neteyam!” You scurried off, stupidly smiling to yourself. “No way! Neteyam got a partner before me!” Lo’ak groaned, running his hand down his face. “You owe me!” Kiri exclaimed. “I know.” Lo’ak grumbled.

hope i did neteyam justice and praying that i didn’t write him too ooc 💀 forgot to mention that i barely proofread anything so apologies if i made any mistakes its real late SIKE TWO DAYS LATER I REVISED AND EDITED SUM FEW PARTS NOW THERE WONT BE ANY ISSUES hopefully

#neteyam x reader #lo'ak x reader #neteyam imagine #teenagers in love #tuk and kiri best duo #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar imagine #atow x reader #atwo #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam x yn #pandora #na'vi x reader

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unoriginal-and-dumb · 22 days

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i need to know everything about your infected like. now

Okay Dokay! (I’m gonna say everything that comes to mind I might miss stuff or repeat previously said things but I love never re-reading what I wrote)

God I got a lot to say sorry, I put this at the bottom too but if anyone ever has specific questions I will be (very) happy to answer them!!!

Infected is, at face value, pretty good at kinda acting like Kasper. Which is why nobody else really seems too bothered by his switch up besides Lampert. Lampert knew him best and for REAL so, well yea you know. He would know when his best friend is acting wrongggg

I think that the virus was inside the roomba that infected has in their apartment. The irony is too perfect, because I don’t imagine Kasper being gods cleanest fella so the idea of the thing that basically wiped out his consciousness coming from something he got to try and start being cleaner. I think he would’ve gotten the roomba because Lampert was basically begging him to do something to try and fix his fuck ass apartment

The virus itself feeds off of consciousness, it overwhelms and takes over the pervious one then kinda produces a shitty copy of it so it can continue feed off any form of consciousness that could’ve been

Infected MAY have the iq of wall paper. Stupid and dumb.

Infected kinda just has like 0 form of self preservation because the virus itself doesn’t really… understand it I guess? It’s more of like a “FEELING PAIN IS A WASTE OF TIME!” Although it wouldn’t just be pain-centric. He just kinda does fuck-all because it’s fun or everyone else does it or whatever

The error pattern on his arm (and other parts of his body tbh) can spread to other things via touch, but it doesn’t really just stay there

The virus is kinda weird because it’s like. Very much digital but it also is clearly affecting him physically? So it kinda just. Is both things at once I dunno magic elevator magic virus yellow person with dot eyes and no nose what can I say.

Infected is a flat and static character, he is unchanging as is, he is only the face value personality of Kasper, it’s like trying to hold a conversation with a half baked answer machine. After a while he kinda just starts repeating things.

Infected is friends with Split and Poob, as mentioned on the wiki. It’s not even remotely comparable to what Kasper and Lampert had though (😢). They are more of like yea let’s invite Infected over to a party since he kinda seems to just stand in the corner and be a freak. They enjoy Infected’s presence, but again it’s like speaking to an answer machine after awhile

Kasper would frequently change up his look, keeping a few things like his hat always but he was like constantly trying out different colors and whatever clothing stuff, but when he became Infected he kind of jsut got stuck on the tough guys wear pink shirt era (going full npc, wearing literally nothing else because ah yes this is Kasper and I am “Kasper”)

Almost nothing truly gets to infected, yea he’s upset about pop tart but it’s all very shallow and more played off as a joke. Bros life is all sunshine and rainbows wait till he hears about taxes 😭

^ however, it’s not impossible for things to really break through for them. Albeit really just not that likely, they could be made SUPER MEGA UPSET! It’s times like that when he actually seems to have even just undertones of Kasper existing (which is why, despite Lampert HATING infected, I think there would be a time he shoves those feelings aside and tries to comfort infected because that’s still his best friends face)

Infected cannot stand be called Kasper. He ignores it for a bit but after a while he lashes out pretty badly. To be fair though, having 0 memories of someone but everyone else claiming you are them is kinda weird

Infected (specifically) would sound like cooper2723, shitty mic and all

Infected skates like skate 3. He does that speed glitch every time and nobody gets it. He also sometimes rolls full force into a curb and just flies off the skate board (he forgort)

Eczema rep as mentioned before, the stupid error texture is super extremely itchy, but that’s also why it’s spread so much because he fucking scratches the hell outta it. It also just hurts in general (LIKE IF U HAD SAND PAPER. ON UR SKIN. ALWAYS.) but again 0 sense of self preservation bruh don’t give a fuck

He wears the arm warmer to try and hide the error texture. He consciously does not really have a reason but it is in order for the virus to try and be more discreet. Not many people have really taken a notice or care at least so it’s kinda working..? (Not rlly it’s pretty obvious)

Infected HATES unpleasant a blood curdling amount. It doesn’t matter if unpleasant does literally nothing they will blame EVERYTHING on unpleasant. Uh oh bad weather? It’s that fucking gradient’s fault

Infected sometimes just starts tweaking. Like straight Blair witching or honestly even like the boss in s2 of smiling friends. He goes right back to normal but he just does that sometimes (it’s because there’s another backseat driver getting pissed off and existing again before going bed bye go the next however long)

Kasper had pretty bad anger issues but he was able to not start genuinely losing it. Infected however. Infected is gods happiest/angriest soldier

He could be a real smiler, a real big yaaaayyyyyy typa fella one second but one thing sets him off and he is a nightmare to be around. We talking cod lobby throwing shit hair pulling slur yelling type stuff

Infected lives on energy drinks.

They also don’t really sleep, it’s seen as a waste of time when he could be saying terrible things online or skateboarding off a building. Only real time he does anything that a normal human NEEDS to do is when he’s like sims 4 forced to (I.e straight up passing tf out on the floor)

I made this up because I wanted BOTH but his stupid ass SNOT, when it’s green that’s just icky snot when it’s pink that’s not snot or blood but a malicious 3rd option (the error infection thing, although it is kind of just like blood for him at least)

Infected doesn’t really realize that people change appearance over time and that’s like normal so he may do absolutely fuckall half the time but he does maintain appearance (hair cut/dye clothes) and stuff very well because they think they have to look exactly like how Kasper did at the point of infection

Errr he’s aroace :) and trans :) yah :) because kasper is :) 🧡💛🤍🩵💙🧡💛🤍🩵💙🧡💛🤍🩵💙🧡💛🤍🩵💙 yaaaayyyyyyyyyyy

Infected’s eyes actually are white, that’s not just stylistic choice. Or at least they kinda catch the light the way a cat’s does. He is very very eerie in the dark because of this. The error pattern is unaffected by lighting (because. It’s an error texture.) so that combined with white ass eyes and some guy who stands and moves like something else puppeteering a human is… eerie.

He’s Wasian! Korean-American specifically. He does have a Korean name but really just doesn’t go by it ever

This isn’t Infected-centric but relating to Kasper, he grew up mainly with his mom cuz his dad peaced tf out (lol). He did like his dad though, which is why he wore the hat all the time, at this point though he doesn’t really care about his dad and just wears it because it’s his fucking hat and he does not take that shit off

Infected constantly acts out of it, extreme fever style. Weird forgetful says nonsense half the time and just laughs at everything when he’s not busy smiling creepily

Infected is indifferent on everyone, he doesn’t particularly hold grudges (he just forgets about any arguments in general or ignores them) he only really hates unpleasant

He isn’t really enemy to anyone due to the infection trying to get a good way to spread (if ur around a bunch of people all the time, I mean likeeee)

There’s other things but this is very long and I dunno, if anyone has specific questions I’d be happy to answer!!!

#regretevator

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carlyraejepsans · 3 months

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if i can recall correctly of the criticisms you had of undertale yellow was that it had a moment that contradicted asgore’s character

what was the moment in the game that made you go “he would not say that”?

everything tbh. the way he acted towards chujin, but most importantly how he behaved at the end of the NM route. I'll just leave a few screenshots from my conversations with @andreabandrea that make my problems with it pretty straightforward

#biscia hater moment #metanalysis #undertale #asgore #answered asks

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 10 months

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Hi! As the Tumblr expert of the Flashfam, would you say that they're capable of solo-ing other members of the Justice League if they wanted to? I mean, from reading the Flash War, Superman couldn't even keep up with the Flashes because they're too fast. Doesn't that mean they could beat Superman and other heroes easily?

Hey! Thanks for the question!

To start this off I first want to say that there is a meta answer to this and a in-universe answer to this.

The meta answer is: it depends on the series. For example, it is extremely unlikely that a series dedicated to a specific hero or team would have said team losing to a speedster, solely because heroes are supposed to win. It doesn't make sense for, let's say Superman, to lose a fight against Eobard Thawne in a Superman book. Even though Eobard would be capable of taking Superman out, it's Superman's story, and the hero always wins. But if it's a Flash story? Hell yeah, definitely. Also in crises/crossover series you can generally see speedsters being used to their full potential. (For example, Eobard demolishing Batman)

But that's no fun so let's look at the odds in-universe.

Because there are so many different Leaguers I'm going to separate them into categories to make it easier:

The Non-Powered Heroes:

The Non-Powered Hero is always a fan favorite. In a world full of gods it is fun to see the average human being the smartest and most capable person in the room. People like to root for the underdog. Unfortunately for them, they are extremely unlikely to win against a speedster in a fight. They would need Dues Ex Machina levels of gadgets specifically tailored to speedsters to even have a shot. Like I said before, Batman went toe-to-toe with Eobard in the batcave (where all of his gadgets are) and the man was decimated. Being smart and having gear and skills doesn't do much when you look like a frozen statue to the person you are fighting.

The 'I Got One Thing' Heroes:

These heroes are really interesting and cool. Their ranks are filled out by heroes like Black Canary, Black Lightning, Beast Boy, Signal, ect. However, even if their powers would hinder a speedster they are A) extremely unlikely to use their powers fast enough and B) extremely unlikely to actually hit a speedster. Speedsters also have a lot of experience fighting people with just one really strong power and they typically fight 6-20 of those guys at the same time and win. Even super strong heroes like Black Lightning are out of luck because speedsters feed on electricity.

The Strong and Invulnerable Heroes:

Honestly? If I am being completely real here? The Strong and Invulnerable Heroes don't have a chance in hell. I'm sorry but heroes like Wonder Woman and Superman are built to be tanks. They excel at fighting physical threats. They can't do anything against reality bending. That is even how speedsters have historically dealt with Kryptonians in the past. They teleport them into another dimension with no yellow sun and just leave them there. A skilled speedster would have them in a pocket dimension or 20 thousand years in the past before Supes could even blink.

The Lanterns:

Speedster and Lantern relations demand that Lanterns get their own category. First of all, the location of the fight would matter. Speedsters would have an extremely hard time winning against a Lantern in their natural element of space. The Lanterns, however, would have an extremely hard time winning against a Speedster on a planet. Speedsters can phase through and break constructs so there isn't a lot that can be done. So it's entirely dependent on location in my opinion.

Additionally, the Lanterns and Speedsters know A LOT of shit about each other so this would be an interesting fight. The Speedsters know the Lantern's color weaknesses and they know about the battery life of their rings (which they might be able to drain tbh, Barry's worked with the energy in Hal's ring multiple times before and has manipulated it). But, conversely, the Lanterns know that Speedsters don't do well in the cold and that the more energy they expend the more unstable they get. So, it would be a wild fight, especially because the Lanterns can fly so there's a possibility that a Speedster couldn't reach them to take them out immediately.

Psychics:

Speedsters do have a little bit of an advantage against Psychics. In the past Speedsters have sped up their minds so fast that their speeding thoughts actually injured people in their minds. But to be frank they have no skill or expertise in this area and, historically, strong and skilled Psychics can easily grab control of Speedsters. For example, Gorilla Grodd. When fighting Gorilla Grodd the main tactic of the Speedsters is to take him out before he has time to think, ie moving faster than the speed of thought. That doesn't always succeed. So a very strong Psychic would have a pretty good shot against a Speedster.

Magic Users:

It REALLY depends on how strong the Magic User is. Raven, Zatanna and Dr. Fate would all have a 50/50 shot against a Speedster in my opinion. Any magic user that can bend reality and do super strong spells would have a really good fighting chance because they are the exact same brand of fucked up as the Speedsters. Also Speedsters don't really have a counter against curses or spells. They have zero magical expertise. So it's really just a matter of if the Speedster can knock them out (or gag them in Zatanna's case) before they can get a spell out.

So when it comes down to it Speedsters are the experts of fighting large groups of people at the same time. They know how to prioritize and they are fast enough to take out the heavy hitters before they can even react. I think it would largely depend on the Justice League roster at the time (for example, the JL cartoon roster of Bats, Supes, WW, Hawkgirl, GL and MMH wouldn't stand a chance as only MMH would be a threat but a team consisting of MMH, Miss M, Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Raven and Deadman would probably take a Speedster out fairly quickly.)

Their main weaknesses are extreme cold, magic and mental attacks, so a team entirely filled with heavy hitting Magic Users and Psychics would excel at fighting a Speedster. So to answer your question, yes a Flash could probably take out a typical Justice League roster solo (unless the roster was tailor made to exploit their weaknesses).

#dc #dc comics #the flash #kid flash #impulse #flash fam #flash family #speedsters #i debated putting Billy in because he IS magic #but the kid doesn't really do offensive spellcasting besides his lightning #and.... speedsters absorb lightning for energy... so he would just make them more powerful....

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youkaigakkou-tl · 3 months

Text

The TRUTH behind the soul pieces

Preamble: I started writing this expecting nothing, but I actually found something??? not clickbait???? gone right???

Warning: the expected reaction of reading this is “damn. I’ve never seen someone grasp harder at straws” and “I dunno about this one chief”

So. "The soul pieces aren't exactly what we're told they are" is an idea I've had for a while now. (I wouldn’t even call it a theory, it’s just a passing thought.) Not that "they're manifestations of Haruaki's traits" is wrong, but I think there's more to them than immediately obvious. I just haven't talked about this much because even I don't fully buy into it and it kinda verges on horoscope-type confirmation bias territory. It’s kind of a, I THINK there’s more to it but I don’t know what exactly is more.

A brief recap

First one shown is his "worldly desires", animal trio vs Seiryuu.

Second is his "freak athleticism", that Kurahashi's team and Ebisu just ran into.

With just these two he runs off to find Sano

Third is his "cowardice", found by Sano's team and Byakko, which gets away and hides in Sano's pocket.

Fourth is his "memory", originally found by Hijita's team and Genbu, which gets picked up by Genbu and then the whole Heian flashback happens.

And last is his "intelligence", which for some reason is also the one that can use his exorcism power.

So immediately a couple details stood out to me.

Why is "memory" here?? I wouldn't call that a trait exactly??

Also, when it first broke apart and flew off in five directions, it's specifically pointed out that it's "like a five pointed star" (even though it's not really if you look at the actual locations on a map lol)

And the sticking point, if it was as clean and simple a split as “Haruaki’s traits”, why do the traits bleed into each other? “Athleticism” is into sailor uniforms too, and “Cowardice” and “Intelligence” are pretty quick by themselves. Also, even without his “Memory” at the time, he remembered that conversation with Seimei in ch87.

The five pointed star detail, considering everything in the arc heavily relates to the Four Gods and Seimei's star, which relates to Wuxing, almost begs to be referencing that too.

What is Wuxing?

Wuxing, five elements, five phases, gogyo, whatever other name for it: I’ve talked about it briefly in my Kyoto arc analysis

(Wait. Is this actually all I mentioned regarding Wuxing in that analysis???? This tells you nothing!!)

(Tbh I think I had a longer explanation about it but I cut it because I thought it was irrelevant)

Wuxing 五行, roughly translated as five elements or phases, is a concept that comes from Taoism. The five elements are Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal and Water and describes the interactions between them. Here’s the wikipedia page if you really want to get into the details.

The “xing” means movements/moving, and the entire concept of Wuxing comes from the five classical planets’ (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn) movements affecting… things? In general? (It’s horoscopes)

In fact, the names of those five planets in Chinese and Japanese are tied with the Wuxing:

Mercury = 水星 water star

Venus = 金星 metal/gold star

Mars = 火星 fire star

Jupiter = 木星 wood star

Saturn = 土星 earth star

You’re taught these as a kid but not the reasoning behind it (because it’s hella irrelevant lmao) but I guess it kinda makes instinctual sense? (Venus = yellow, Mars = red, Jupiter = stripes, like tree rings?? Saturn = brown. Mercury = it looks like there’s rivers? idk how much detail they were seeing in the BC times)

And just to sate curiosity, the planets that were discovered after telescopes were invented are just based off the English names

Uranus = 天王星 sky god star

Neptune = 海王星 sea god star

Pluto = 冥王星 underworld god star

By the way, this is also why the days of the week are named after elements in Japanese; it’s not actually the elements, rather it’s referring to the celestial bodies: those 5 planets + the moon and the sun. It’s the classical Chinese system that Japan adopted around the 5th century AD, and they haven’t changed it since then. (Chinese uses stuff like “weekday 1” for monday now.) And China itself adopted the Greco-Roman system of the 7 day week, days named after celestial bodies around the 4th century AD, which is also why the planets and days line up if you look at the English and Japanese names now.

Would be crazy if they independently decided to have 7 days in a week and name days after celestial bodies and assigned the same planets to the days huh.

(Also, TIL from looking at this chart that the sun (taiyang) is indeed called that because it’s the “great yang star”, and the moon is called the “great yin star”, you know, like yin-yang)

I’m remembering why it’s so hard to research and write about this stuff now. Everything is so inextricably connected to everything else its hard to talk about one thing in isolation. Thanks for indulging my astronomy tangent I love astronomy.

(I always got saturn on da mind when I think about Seimei cus of this art…)

The only useful part of this essay

So. Wuxing. Here’s a pretty standard diagram of it so it’s easier to visualise

There are five types of processes Wuxing describes:

Generating: Wood feeds fire

The reverse side of generating: Fire burns wood

Regulating: Wood grasps earth

Excessive regulating (destruction): Wood depletes earth

The reverse side of regulation (exhaustion): Earth rots wood

And here’s a full list of it, from wikipedia

With this in mind, you’ll notice that it pops up all over the place in Kyoto arc!

If we take lightning as aligned with metal (because Byakko = metal = lightning user), this is the regulating interaction of metal -> wood

Metal cuts wood, but wood also dulls metal

Water… nourishing wood….???

Water destabilizes earth

(“This is just pokemon lol” WRONG!! Pokemon types and every other element system in videogames came from Wuxing!! (Or Godai))

Back to the soul pieces

So you see, it’s incredibly tempting to connect the five soul pieces with the five elements of Wuxing. It’s basically begging for it. The Wuxing has been associated with lots of things that come in sets of five, including things like senses, tastes, smells, emotions, mental qualities, periods of one’s life, body parts. It has applications in divination and traditional chinese medicine after all. If there was a clear, 1-to-1 match between the soul pieces and the elements, you bet I would have talked about it more by now. But the connections are tenuous at best, and even I don’t really believe it. They might, probably, just be the traits we’re told they are. So this really is just to humor myself, and maybe someone can glean something more from this.

Let’s lay out the things surrounding the soul pieces:

“Desires” was at Arashiyama (a bamboo forest) and Seiryuu was present, both associated with Wood

“Athleticism” was at Ginkaku-ji (silver pavilion), none of the four gods were present, no obvious element associations here.

“Cowardice” was at Mount Kurama (mountain = earth?), Byakko was present (metal?)

“Memory” was at Kiyomizu-dera (clear water temple), and Genbu was present, water association

“Intelligence” was at Kinkaku-ji (gold pavilion), and none of the four gods were present initially. (gold = metal?)

The other thing I’ve yet to mention is all the soul pieces seem to be of different points in Haruaki’s life. (Well. Four of them at least.)

“Desires” and “Athletics” seem to look and act younger (as much as you can tell with chibis…), both wearing simple t-shirts, and “Athletics” t-shirt and shorts look like what Haruaki wore as a kid in the Miki arc flashback. Adding on to that, we’re constantly told how into sailor uniforms Haruaki was as a little kid (literally whenever his childhood gets brought up: Mamaaki talking about it in ch8, him saying his first cry as a newborn was “sailor uniform” in ch43, the ch51.5 extra) (ok to be fair. his sailor uniform fetish gets brought up at every opportunity. but i feel like it’s Pretty emphasized here) Also I feel like “Desires” especially talks like a kid.

Meanwhile “Cowardice” and “Memory” are dressed the way he currently does, and “Cowardice” seems to parallel the way Haruaki was at the start of the series. It’s Sano’s team that runs into him, he acts like how Haruaki did early on just amped way up, and he ends up hiding on Sano.

IQ-kun… still don’t know what to make of him and how he fits into this lol

Put like this, doesn’t it almost seem like, in the order they appear, they represent points in Haruaki’s life too?

Or, this could all be nothing, because they’re all wearing the same thing in the jacket for Volume 14.

So anyway, from this angle, it seems like Desires and Athletics line up fairly cleanly with Wood and Fire respectively, but Cowardice, Memory and Intelligence are a little murkier. Cowardice only somewhat lines up with Earth, and both Memory and Intelligence could align with Water, while Memory could also be Metal. (I dropped the quotation marks bc they were getting distracting)

Here’s a diagram to illustrate.

(See it’s kinda, pick-and-choosey, horoscope-type shit)

Immediately a couple problems arise. First and most majorly is the horoscopey-ness of it all. And then there’s the matter that, if the four gods represent four out of five of the elements and earth is the outlier, wouldn’t it also make sense if IQ-kun as the outlier would be assigned that?

There’s also the possibility that the first four are a set, and IQ-kun makes up the “yin” to the rest of Haruaki’s “yang” (But then what would the first four correspond to individually? idk….)

We’re getting nowhere with this analogy, so let’s look at some adjacent philosophies in sets of five, just for fun, and see if they line up any better.

Traditional Chinese Medicine

This one is the most related to Wuxing, there are five main “organs” in TCM that have associated Wuxing elements. They might be called the same names as the anatomical organs, but they’re actually more like concepts only roughly correlated with locations on the body. This is stuff codified thousands of years ago before modern knowledge of the human body, mind you.

Heart (fire): stores the “aggregate soul” (the mind)

Spleen (earth): governs transportation of qi and blood, and governs muscles and limbs

Lung (metal): stores the “po 魄” (physical soul)

Kidney (water): responsible for willpower or fear

Liver (wood): governs free flow of qi, blood and emotions. Stores blood, which stores the “hun 魂” (ethereal soul)

(The wikipedia page I linked has more in depth descriptions)

And if we sorta line up the attributes…

Desires = Liver/wood

Athleticism = Spleen/earth

Cowardice = Kidney/water

Memory = Lung/metal

Intelligence = Heart/fire

Something like this? It doesn’t line up particularly nicely either, and certainly doesn’t line up with the first theory…

But reading up on this actually brought something useful to my attention: the concept of “hun” and “po”

See, there’s this Chinese compound word “hun po 魂魄” that generally just means “soul”, but if you get really semantic they’re two different types of souls?

The “hun” is the yang-aligned “ethereal soul” typically understood as the wits/mind of a person, whatever constitutes the personality, and is the part of the soul that leaves the body on death.

The “po” is the yin-aligned “physical soul”, sometimes described as the “baser animal spirit” of a person, and is attached to the body.

This could explain why Haruaki’s soul is also Seimei’s soul, but also Seimei is in the underworld?

This scene I got real hung up about in my Kyoto arc post?

It lining up and being a reasonable explanation is one thing, but whether sensei is deliberately referencing a property of Chinese linguistics that doesn’t have an equivalent in Japanese kanji is another thing. And honestly, I could see Tanaka “I’ll have to read up on Chinese history, but off the top of my head Byakko and Seiryuu are from 4000BC and Suzaku and Genbu are younger” Mai could and would do it. (Good god, what I wouldn’t give to see sensei’s notes. Yohaji fanbook explaining every cultural reference PLEASEEEE IM BEGGINGGG)

Godai

Godai (“the five great (elements)”), while also a thing with five elements that features prominently in Japanese culture, differs from Wuxing in that it originates from the concept of Mahābhūta in Indian Buddhism, and features Fire, Water, Earth, Wind and Void. It’s a more inert definition and describes the elements as building blocks, contrasting with Wuxing which is more concerned with the balancing and interaction between the elements and the changes they cause in each other.

Godai also isn’t ever depicted as a star (and Wuxing is only depicted as a star as a byproduct of all the arrows denoting the interactions, sometimes the 5 elements are arranged like the 5 side of a dice with lines connecting everything) and is typically depicted as a Gorinto, a stone structure.

In order from top to bottom, it goes Void, Wind, Fire, Water, Earth, and represents the structure of the universe in Buddhism.

So. Attributes and if they line up any better.

Earth: unmoving, stability

Water: fluidity, adaptability, motion

Fire: passion, power, energy

Wind: growth, freedom

Void: the spirit? thought? there’s not really a clear description of this one. To begin with, originally in Buddhism, it’s just said that “from void emerged air, from air emerged fire, (etc)”

I could see wind = Memory and void = Intelligence, but the rest… I dunno man

The five aggregates in Buddhism

And now, following the thread back from Godai, to the Buddhist concept of Skandhas, or the “five aggregates of clinging”, described as the five factors that make up a sentient being’s personality. (Hey, this sounds like it could be onto something here!)

The five aggregates are:

Form or matter: the material form of a person

Sensation or feeling: the five senses + intellectual sensation, and the feelings that occur whether pleasant, unpleasant or neutral

Perception: cognition and recognizing what has been previously noted

Mental formations: dispositions, or something that motivates a person to take action (or sometimes described as the influences of a previous life?!)

Consciousness: cognizance, or the base that supports experience, sometimes translated as mind, intelligence or life force

Wait… This kinda… lines up…? No way…?

Form = Athleticism

Sensation = Cowardice

Perception = Memory

Mental formations = Desires

Consciousness = Intelligence

This… kinda works? They all basically line up and it’s not too tenuous, and there’s enough matching details in the descriptions of the five aggregates that it’s kinda scary…?

I’ll be real, prior to writing this section I hadn’t actually read the descriptions of each of them too carefully (I had the tab open and roughly noted the descriptions kinda worked) and I entirely expected to end this essay with a “in conclusion: no conclusion i learned nothing lol” but there’s actually something here????

And Tanaka Mai is known to reference Buddhism a lot, so this could entirely be intentional…??? I’m kinda shaken rn tbh

I mean, I guess I should have looked to Buddhism first considering sensei’s track record, what with how the arc opened with Haruaki getting put under a waterfall to get rid of his worldly desires, and how 3 out of 5 locations were Buddhist temples, but Buddhism concepts usually use their Sanskrit names and I don’t know how to google for that… (making excuses. classic)

Um. Hope you enjoyed reading this and that you learned something? Here’s all the relevant wikipedia pages if you want to go down your own rabbit hole:

Wuxing (Chinese five elements)

Godai (Japanese Buddhism five elements)

Mahābhūta (Indian Buddhism five elements)

Hun and po (two concepts of souls)

Skandha (five aggregates that make up a person)

Twelve Nidanas (didn’t mention this one, but it’s related to skandhas)

If you read all this you should read all my other long rambly things too if you haven’t, they’re all under the #rambles tag 👍

#youkai gakkou no sensei hajimemashita #a terrified teacher at ghoul school #yohaji #rambles #analysis #i had a whole character arc writing this #there was ups and downs

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