#“now you have to beat... FISHER'S P!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jahayla-parker · 1 year

Text

Her Faithful Protector: Conrad Fisher x Reader

Part 2

Descr.: Part 2, 3.2k wc, see series link below for full description. This part's theme: y/n and Con are together and he learns her triggers

Warnings: see series link below for warnings.

Her Faithful Protector Series Navigation

Conrad and y/n were cuddled up on the couch in Susannah’s house. They’d gone on their fifth date earlier that evening. Now they were relaxing in the summer house, watching y/f/m.

Y/n tried to fluff the throw pillows so Conrad would be more comfortable when he got back from getting them more popcorn. Unfortunately, one of the pillows fell off the couch and rolled onto the coffee table. Y/n winced as the action knocked Conrad’s water glass onto the ground. She tenses as the glass shattered, the ground now covered in a bunch of glass shards.

Conrad was just finishing up in the kitchen when he heard the commotion. He calmly made his way back to the living room, figuring she’d feel guilty over whatever broke. Whatever it was, Conrad knew it wouldn’t be a big deal or him or his mom so he wasn’t worried.

However, as he entered the room, Conrad’s footsteps echoed loudly in y/n’s head. She felt her body go into fight or fight mode. Y/n found herself blindly trying to pick up the pieces as tears formed in her eyes. She was struggling to breathe as her heart began to beat out of control.

“Y/n? What-“ Conrad began, his voice muffled over the sound of broken glass repeating in y/n’s mind.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Y/n cried, scooping pieces of broken glass into her hand.

“Woah! Hey, love, don’t do that!“ Conrad panicked, rushing to y/n as her finger pinched the edge of another glass fragment.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-I’ll, I’ll-“ y/n rambled, continuing to clean up the glass. She couldn’t even see what she was doing anymore, the tears blurring her vision. Y/n resorted to using one hand as a broom, brushing the shards into her other hand.

“Hey, hey,” Conrad soothed, delicately grabbing y/n’s hands. He cautiously removed the glass shards from her palms and placed the fragments on the coffee table beside them. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s just a glass” Conrad sighed, his fingers slowly guiding y/n’s hand back open so that he could examine her palm.

“I’m such an idiot, I was just trying to fluff the-the p-pillows for you..but I m-messed up a-a-and-“ y/n mumbled, her hands shaking inside of Conrad’s grip.

“Y/n, breathe, look at me” Conrad requested, rubbing the back of her hands with his thumbs. “Please” he pleaded, needing to see her eyes. When she finally let her eyes flicker up to look at him, Conrad offered her a loving gaze. “You’re not an idiot. It was an accident, no need to apologize. Okay?” He slowly assured her.

“You’re.. You’re not…” y/n began. She analyzed Conrad’s presence and found herself slowly coming back to reality. Y/n sighed and shook her head. “Oh, right” she whispered to herself, remembering she was with Conrad and not her father.

“What?” Conrad questioned carefully, having seen the way her eyes suddenly softened. He’d noticed a wave of realization take over her features. It was as if she had been somewhere else for a moment and just now returning to him.

“Nothing” y/n lied, hoping he’d drop it. She didn’t want to explain why she’d freaked out like that. Y/n didn’t want him to have to deal with all of that.

“Y/n,” Conrad pleaded with a sigh.

“I just.., sorry. I spaced,” y/n shook head, her breathing slowly returning to a calmer pace.

“What happened, where’d your mind go?” Conrad wondered.

Y/n shrugged halfheartedly, “I.. I forgot I was here with you, is all”.

Confused, Conrad nodded slowly. “Were you afraid I was going to hurt you?” He asked slowly.

Conrad felt a sharp pain in his chest when y/n froze upon hearing his question. “Y/n, I would never-“ he began softly.

“I know Con” y/n swiftly cut him off, eyes gazing up at him. She smiled faintly, “I do. I know. Like I said, I just… I forgot it was you for a moment”.

Conrad licked his lip as he tilted his head slightly to the side. He couldn’t figure out what was going on or why she’d been so scared if it wasn’t due to him. Conrad noticed the repetitive precise wording she used and asked, “who did you think was coming in?”

Y/n glanced away from him, her eyes shifting to stare at the remaining glass shards on the floor.

“Y/n” Conrad pleaded quietly, cautiously squeezing her fingers. “I need you talk to me. I can’t protect you if you don’t te-“ he began, worried eyes not leaving the side of her face.

Y/n sniffled quietly and shook her head, “I don’t need you to protect me”.

Conrad nodded to himself, “I know, but I-“

Y/n once again shook her head. She slowly turned back towards Conrad. “I feel safe with you Con” she promised, “that’s what matters”.

Conrad’s lips curled up slightly in a small smile. “That’s why you came over the other night a few weeks ago…” he said, piecing together some of the details.

Y/n nodded, her eyes on Conrad’s face now. “Yeah, you make me feel safe, Connie” she admitted, giving him a half smile.

Conrad smiled back at y/n gently and kissed her scratched palms. His voice was unbelievably soft as he assured her, “I’ll always be here. And I’ll listen whenever you’re ready to talk about what happened that night”.

Y/n’s tiny smile grew some as she turned her palms over to squeeze Conrad’s hands. “I know. Thank you” she whispered appreciatively.

Y/n sighed as she quickly walked through Susannah’s house, trying not to drip on everything. Jeremiah and Steven had jokingly tossed her into the Fisher’s pool moments ago. It was meant as a playful jab at her for wearing one of Conrad’s hoodies despite the 90-degree weather. However, y/n was now soaked and needed to change.

“Oh, did those two rascals get you?” Susannah hummed as she shook her head softly.

Y/n looked up from the floor to meet Susannah’s gaze and nodded. “My fault for wearing this on a sunny day” she laughed softly.

Susannah giggled but still shook her head. “It is a bit warm for a sweatshirt beautiful girl, but that doesn’t make you deserving of being tossed into the pool” she tsked, walking over to y/n. “Want me to yell at them?” Susannah asked softly, resting her hands on y/n’s cheeks.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile widely. Susannah always had that effect on people. No matter what your worry was, she could make it better without even knowing what had truly been troubling you. Hence why y/n beamed at the blonde despite y/N’s worry over trying to find a clean sweatshirt for her to wear.

Conrad was at work still so y/n couldn’t beg him for one of his. Plus, she suspected he’d catch on if she changed from one hoodie to another after being teased for wearing one in the first place. But, all of hers had been worn and were needing to be washed. Granted she only had two of her own here at the summer house; it was a summer house after all.

Nonetheless, the loving and carefree nature of Susannah’s support despite her youngest son being one of the culprits behind y/N’s soaked clothes was heartwarming. Y/n shook her head, moving Susannah’s hands side to side as they clung to her face. “Thank you” y/n smiled, “but I’m okay. I just need to find another clean sweatshirt to wear”.

Susannah hummed quietly and paused, her eyes scanning y/N’s face in silence. Whatever she’d been thinking disappeared from her face as she nodded. “Well, I’m sure Connie won’t mind you borrowing one of his. I just did a load of the boys’ clothes an hour ago” she offered. Susannah lowered her hands from y/N’s face down to her hands and gave them a soft squeeze, “I believe there was a sweatshirt in there. If so, it should still be on his bed”.

Y/n let out a soft sigh and smiled. “Thank you Suz” she cheered, going to give the woman a hug before she realized she was still dripping wet. But, y/n was quickly pulled in for a side hug by Susannah anyways. “I’ll change and then come dry this up” y/n promised, looking at the slightly wet ground beneath her.

Susannah giggled, her radiant smile on full display. “Don’t worry about it y/n/n! Go change and enjoy the rest of your day, hmm?” She suggested. When she saw y/n was about to argue that she’d clean it up, Susannah shook her head. She teasingly pointed towards the stairs, “it’ll take me all of two seconds. Now go steal your boyfriend’s sweatshirt”.

Y/n bashfully bit her lip as she mumbled a shy thank you to Conrad’s mom. She heard Susannah humming softly to herself as y/n exited the room. Y/n glanced down at her body and sighed.

The boys were right in their mockery, and so was Susannah in her thoughtful mention of the weather; it was far too warm for another sweatshirt. But, y/n didn’t have a choice. She had to cover up her arms. So, it was either a sweatshirt or a long sleeve shirt. At least with the former y/n could argue it was for comfort if someone asked.

Conrad kissed his mom’s cheek as he slipped into the kitchen on his way to the backyard to find the others. He smiled as his mom beamed and spun to face him and ask how work was. Conrad assured her that work was going well before his eyes glanced towards the back door.

“She’s actually upstairs Connie” Susannah smirked. When her son’s head whipped around towards her at the mention of y/n, his mom laughed. “The poor girl needed to change, the boys dunked her in the pool” she explained.

Conrad furrowed his brows, “what?”

“Relax Connie,” his mom soothed, stroking Conrad’s cheek. “She’s fine, just wanted to get into some dry clothes“ she explained.

Conrad nodded as his mind began to analyze the situation more. He had slightly been asking about why the boys did that, but also out of curiosity over y/N’s actions. Conrad knew y/n enjoyed swimming, even if on her own; especially on hot days like today. Sure, he wasn’t understanding why the boys dunked her into the pool. But, Conrad was more concerned over not understanding why y/n wasn’t already in the pool to begin with.

Whatever the reason, Conrad intended to find out. He thanked his mom, giving her another hug before he made a break for the stairs.

Conrad’s thoughts were racing as he made his way to her room. He didn’t know how to bring it up, but he knew he had to. Something was going on and he worried it might have to do with what had happened a few weeks back and her overreaction the other night.

When he didn’t find y/n in her room, Conrad made his way back down the hall. Maybe she’d slipped out the front door without his mom noticing. But if that were true, he’d need to figure out where she would’ve gone off to. Conrad suspected the beach, perhaps even their secret location down a ways from the pier.

Electing to follow that possibility, Conrad turned on his heels. He needed to change his shoes as the ones he had in for work wouldn’t be the most ideal if they were to spend the rest of the day in the sand. However, Conrad froze when he opened his bedroom door.

Conrad didn’t know y/n was going to be in there. Much less half naked as she was in the process of sliding one her shirt on over her damp bra. When his brain started functioning again, he quickly looked away out of chivalry and respect.

Conrad paused mid turn when his brain caught up with what he’d seen. There were marks on y/n’s back and shoulders. He knew they hadn’t been there before. Neither were the shadows he suspected were the faint edges of bruising on y/n’s stomach, having only seen her from the side. Conrad didn’t bother shutting the door as he rushed into the room and over to y/n. His voice was breathy and slightly panicked as he tried to speak, “y/n?” Conrad shook his head as he collected himself, “who did this to you?"

“Con!” Y/n panicked, shyly throwing her shirt on quicker. She hadn’t expected him to be home so soon. “Sorry..-boys dunked me into the pool” y/n explained, hoping he was asking why she was only half dressed in his room. She reached for Conrad’s hoodie that Susannah had placed on the bed but Conrad’s hand stopped her.

Conrad didn’t fall for the attempted change of topic. But he saw she was still standing there shyly, eyeing his jacket. Conrad let out a soft sigh and stepped back to let y/n put the sweatshirt on so she would be more comfortable.

Once y/n had the sweatshirt pulled down, her hands fiddling in the pocket, Conrad spoke up again. He stood before her, his eyes showing his deep concern. “Y/n. I saw your skin.. your stomach. Why-why do you have bruises? You- is there a bruise on your stomach?” Conrad rambled.

Y/n closed her eyes and tensed her body as she tried to think of a way out.

Conrad noticed the shift in body language and sighed. “Y/n,” he whispered grabbing her hand.

“You… don’t worry about it Con” y/n advised.

“I have the right to be worried!" Conrad broke, his eyes trailing over her clothed body. Despite being hidden under her shirt and his hoodie, Conrad could still envision where he’d seen the bruises. “Where did all those bruises come from?" He asked, his eyes watery as he waited impatiently for an answer.

Y/n laughed breathlessly, “I’m really clumsy Con, you know-“

Conrad breathed tensely through his nose, “Y/n, this is serious!" He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it to the side. “Cut the crap and tell me what happened” Conrad demanded, no longer letting it go. How could he after what he’d just seen?

Y/n stared at his chest as she tried to lie again. “I-I-I, well… I tri-“ she began.

“You don’t get those bruises from tripping!” Conrad argued. After taking a deep breath, he slowly grabbed the hems of the his sweatshirt and the shirt y/n had on underneath. When she didn’t stop him, Conrad lifted the material up until he could see her bare skin. He stopped lifting the fabric when he could see everything just underneath where her bra ended.

“Is this why you've been wearing that sweater so goddamn much?!" Conrad asked, his voice weak from seeing the splotches on her skin. How hadn’t he caught on before?! He should’ve known.

Y/n took a shaky breath and nodded her head silently. She couldn’t look at Conrad. Y/n knew he’d be upset that she hadn’t mentioned this abuse before.

Conrad noticed y/n wasn’t breathing as deeply when her ribs barely moved despite her shaky breath. He calmed himself and let out a deep breath. “Is someone hurting you..?" Conrad questioned directly, his thumb trailing under one of the bruises.

Y/n stayed silent, causing him to halt his movements and look up at her.

“Y/n,” Conrad whispered as softly as he could. “Please talk to me about it” he begged, trying not to tear up. “I want to help” Conrad added, feeling guilty that he clearly hadn’t made that known before.

“I’m okay Con-“ y/n breathed, giving him a small smile.

“Y/n,” Conrad sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

When y/n saw his reaction, all she wanted to do was reassure him that everything would be okay. He didn’t need to be caught up in this. “Really, I’m okay” she argued.

“You're okay? Really, cause this doesn't look fucking okay!" Conrad snapped, stepping back to calm himself as he brought his hands to his hair.

Y/n reflectively flinched and stepped backwards until her legs hit the edge of a bed. Her knees buckled under her as she dropped to the floor, her eyes wild and alert. “P-p-please don- don’t” she trembled, vision blurry as she stared at the closest floorboard.

Conrad froze, staring down at y/n in shock before he analyzed his posture. He cautiously lowered his hand back to his side as he knelt down where he was, not moving closer to her yet. “Y/n, I’m sorry for yelling. I was worried- but, it doesn’t make it okay. I’m sorry I scared you” Conrad whispered softly.

Conrad watched y/n closely and noticed the way her eyes still stared into the distance, as if she was looking through him. He sighed softly and moved slightly closer. As he did, Conrad could hear her rapid and shallow breaths. He saw the death grip y/n had on the edge of his blanket that had hung just above the ground.

"It's me! It's me! Calm down, baby, please” Conrad begged. He took a shaky but deep breath and lowered his voice significantly. “It-it’s Con. I won’t ever hurt you. I swear. Please just listen to my voice” Conrad whispered, “it’s me”.

“C-c-co-” y/n mumbled after a few seconds, her eyes blinking as she began clenching and unclenching his blanket.

Conrad nodded, slowly moving a little closer. “Yeah, it’s me, it’s Con, baby, just breathe” he cooed, “you’re safe”. Conrad repeated these southing sentiments to y/n for at least five minutes before she’d calmed down enough to regain her senses.

“I’m sorry Con” y/n said hanging her head.

Conrad frowned, “Y/n don’t-“.

“No, it’s… No one wants to deal with this. You shouldn’t have to deal with m-“ y/n tried to explain.

“Do not finish that sentence. You’ve done nothing wrong” Conrad assured her.

“I freaked out over nothing… twice now. E-even though I know you wouldn’t hurt me” y/n shook her head. She continued to fiddle with the blanket, “it’s humiliating, you know?”

“What is, love?” Conrad asked lovingly.

Y/n spared a short glance up at him, “sitting here.., like this, looking like.. this… like…fuck!” She bit her lip and sighed loudly. “This is the first time you’ve seen me… without my shirt and this..” y/n shook her head as she looked down at her own torso. “And-and, here I am sobbing and shaking,” y/n laughed humorlessly, “of course it’s humiliating”.

Conrad let y/n finish her explanation before responding; despite not agreeing with her. “Y/n, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Look at me please” he asked, waiting until she did. When y/n’s timid eyes lifted to meet his, Conrad gave her a thankful smile. “You are gorgeous, no matter what. But, we need to address this. Not because there’s something to be ashamed of, but because I refuse to let anyone hurt you” Conrad stated. He grabbed her hand and held it securely in his, “okay?”

“Okay. Thank you” y/n said in a small, broken voice.

Conrad sighed and moved closer, closing the last of the distance between them. He wrapped y/n up into his arms as they sat on his floor In comfortable silence. Conrad didn’t know where to begin, but at least he was getting somewhere.

Part 3 coming soon (see series navigation link -at top and below- for exact time)

Conrad Fisher Navigation

Her Faithful Protector Series Navigation

Jeremiah Fisher Navigation

The Summer I Turned Pretty Navigation

Book Boyfriend Navigation

My Main Masterlist Navigation (All My Works)

Request info (including status) here

Taglist: @wolfmoonmusic

149 notes · View notes

ryverbind · 7 months

Text

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner.

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode.

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time.

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises.

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark.

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world.

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right?

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me.

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life."

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does.

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed.

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance.

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans.

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force.

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are.

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin.

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips.

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile.

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him.

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way.

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically.

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

52 notes · View notes

sallyf4ce · 3 years

Text

wolves

chapter IV

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)

“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.

“How’d you know?”

“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.

“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.

“No i’m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.

“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”

He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.

You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.

“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.

“What did i say?”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?

“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.

Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.

“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.

you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.

“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.

“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.

“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.

“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?

you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.

you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.

“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”

you quickly pull your hand back and flush.

“stupid old lady.” you mutter.

“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.

“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!

You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.

“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.

“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”

“It’s all good.”

“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.

“what do you mean?” you’re confused.

“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.

“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.

“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.

the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.

“whatever you say, porcelain face.”

“porcelain face?”

“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”

he hums.

“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”

“you forgot iron fist.”

“iron fist?”

“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.

“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.

Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.

•Lunch time•

“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.

“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.

“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.

Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.

His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.

“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.

“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.

“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.

“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.

“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”

She smiles in apology and lets go.

“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?

“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.

“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.

“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.

“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.

“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.

“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.

“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.

“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.

“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.

“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.

“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.

“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”

Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.

“Alright.”

taglist: @purelydarling @deadpoetsandhoney @ghostfacefricker6969 @percyyzz @whatsurgamertag @kiillian @potatochic2003 @beingaweebishell @glitterydonutangel @izzydrawsandwrites @angellicbitch @elebeleb @dream-of-eros @mr-bombastic

#sally face x reader #ashley campbell #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sally face #sally face smut

255 notes · View notes

1engele · 3 years

Text

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 3. frogger

Previous | Next

[warnings: cursing, smoking, light violence, blood]

"i don't want to be friends. i want all of you."

—

"Can I get your number?"

You and Larry both whip around to face Sal, the person who'd spoken that sentence. You're stood at the foot of Addison's Apartments.

"What?" You blink. "Me? My what?"

You assume Sal mirrors your nonplussed expression because he bats his eyes just as startled as you did. "Uh- your phone number. So we can be in touch easier. You know, for school and stuff."

Eager anxiousness in the form of butterflies batted their wings in your gut and your ribs. You reached into your back pocket, flipped your flip-phone open, and handed it toward the blue-haired boy. "Here," you blurted. "Put it in there." You gloss your eyes toward Larry. For some apparent reason, he's wearing a wide, shit-eating grin.

"You can put yours in too if you want."

He waves a tan hand. Your attention is on Larry, but it somehow drifts and you're glancing toward Sal. His veiny hands are jerking which each movement of his thumbs as he presses numbers on the keypad.

"No, that's okay," Larry replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'll get it off of Sal."

"Here," Sal holds the flip phone out to you. It's small in his hand.

He has long fingers, you thought.

"Oh, thanks." Your fingers brush his as you reclaim your phone and return it to it's place in your back pocket.

Your heart is beating unnecessarily loud by the time they've walked you to your apartment. Your hands are in your coat pockets to conceal the mild trembling in your hands. You're almost nervous that they can hear the rushing of your blood as your heart rapidly pumps it through your body—because you know you certainly can.

"I had fun today," you smiled, your expression nothing but sincerity. "Thanks for everything. I appreciate it."

Larry grins. "That's cute. No need to thank us, alright?"

You twitch the corner of your lips upward and nod towards him.

Sal tucks a strand of blue hair behind his ear—you'll never get used to the color. In a good way. You could look at it for hours—and fiddles with his backpack strap. "See you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you respond, your teeth making an appearance. "Goodnight, you guys."

With that, you're inside of your apartment and shutting the door behind you. You hear their muffled voices and unintelligible words through the wall as they retreat from your door and towards the elevator.

You drop your bag at the door and make haste to your room. You sit on the side of your bed and hurriedly open your phone.

The first phone number you'd ever had—save your mother, which doesn't count— was "c you tomorrow :)", sitting right beneath "Mom" on the contact list. After changing his name to "Sal :)" you breathed out shakily, and slowly pushed enter on his contact.

Should you send him something? Isn't that a bit weird? You'd just seen him a few minutes ago. Should you wait a little longer? What if he's still with Larry, and they see what you'd sent a message so quickly and make fun of you?

You shake your head. That was unlikely. All they'd been was great to you.

"c you tmrw."

You inwardly linger over the thought of pressing the send button.

Why the fuck were you so nervous, anyway? Because a boy with nice hands and a pretty laugh said he'd see you tomorrow?

Yeah.. okay, maybe that was it.

"c you tmrw." The message was sent.

You slapped a hand over your face. Should you have said something else? Should you just have not texted him at all? You fell back into the mattress, draping your arm over your face and blinking into your wrist. The feeling of exhilarated dread churned in your gut.

A subtle vibration reverberated on the comforter. It buzzed in your ears momentarily. You paused, before lurching upward and snatching the phone back into your grasp.

"you too. let's try not to rouse mrs. packerton's suspicions tomorrow like we did today lol."

You grinned, and replied before you could stop yourself. "might not be possible. you may need to answer another math question for me."

Sal replied after a pause. "can't say no to that. goodnight, y/n"

You breathed out slowly, typed out a goodnight message, and slowly dropped your hands back down to the comforter.

Your fingers shook and your heart was beating itself against your rib cage. Not long after, you dozed off into sleep thinking of the way your body felt when the warmth of his palm was flush against the nape of your neck.

Getting up the next day is a bit harder than getting up the previous one. You couldn't seem to rub the sleep away from your eyes, and, for some reason or another—you'd waken up in a cold sweat, and your sheets stuck to your body. Not only that, when you'd went to shower, the water was freezing, for no apparent reason. You'd come to terms with the fact that this building had multiple personalities.

Standing beneath the shower head felt like being pricked with itty-bitty pitchforks. Topped with miniature ice cubes.

You'd gotten dressed in an oversized black sweater (over a long-sleeved, black top for added warmth), along with an a-lined plaid emerald green and blue skirt on top of your sheer black tights. The skirt was not short—not amongst your standards, it was mid-thigh—but nowadays teachers were weird about how girls dressed so you'd have to keep an eye out about that.

Also, surprisingly—instead of the usual beat up and raggedy sneakers you usually wore you decided on some of your chunky Mary Janes you'd thrifted not long back. You'd never given them a go outside before. The only time they'd been worn was in your room and by yourself.

When you were fully dressed, you let yourself examine your outfit in the mirror. While doing so, your phone chimes in your hand. You snap it open hastily and read the notification.

"it's larry. sal gave me your number :P meet us outside when ur ready"

You grinned and walked out of your room. You grabbed your bag and made for the door. When you'd gotten outside, what greeted you there was not exactly what you'd expected.

"Oh! Ashley, is this yours?" You inquired, gazing over the pale silver Ford Fiesta that sat in the driveway. It was a cute car. Ash sat in the driver's seat with the window down and her forest green eyes attentive and on you.

"Yeah! My little brother had an allergic reaction while eating out at some big corporate food chain and we got it in compensation. We already have a family car so it was given to me."

What a nice story, you thought, making sure you maintained your pleasant expression.

"Oh," you passed your gaze over the vehicle again. "Cool!"

You noted Todd's place in the passenger seat. You met his eye and gently waved. He returned the wave, with that neutral look on his face he always seemed to have.

"You're going to be cold," a voice behind you says rather abruptly. You jump, whirling around.

"You scared me," you laughed, your face burning as you made eye contact with none other than Sal Fisher. "What do you mean?"

"Your skirt," he replies, glancing away momentarily. Your eyebrows raise comically.

"You don't like it?"

"No-" he rushes out, a bit too fast. "Uh, no. It's g- it's nice. I meant you're going to be cold in it."

He was right. It was nearing the end of August.

You pass your eyes over your legs, from the a-lined skirt, the sheer black tights, and the chunky Mary Janes. You return your gaze to his—not before catching a glinting glimpse of what seemed to be rings adorning his fingers—and shrugged.

"Oh well. All I'm worried about is being dress coded," you look to Larry, who's near Sal. "Good morning."

"You too," he grins. "Let's get in the car. It's chilly."

You all clamber into the backseat. You're in between Sal and Larry. Hot air blew from the car vents and hit you in the face as Ashley turned the temperature up further. While doing that, she turns on the radio and channel surfs until she's found some sort of soft rock station. She turns it up to a moderate volume.

A car freshener in the shape of a red tree dangled from the rearview mirror and swayed as Ashley put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway. It had a charming illustration of what resembled two strawberries on the front.

The car smelled nostalgic—like the smell of the hair on one of those Strawberry Shortcake dolls you owned as a child.

The wistful scent is abruptly overpowered by the smell of smoke and the autumn air. Larry had rolled a window down and had just lit a cigarette to your left. On your right, Sal has pulled out his flip phone and is playing some sort of shit quality version of Frogger.

Interested, you lean over.

"How'd you get that on there?"

He looks over at you. He's close. You can hear him slowly inhaling and exhaling through his nose. "Todd did it for me," Sal replies. He gestures toward you with the phone. The phone makes a sound. The digital frog had fallen into the water. "Wanna play?"

"Oh," you pause, and smile. "I like watching you."

His eyes flicker over your face. "Okay."

He returned to the game. Finally, you had an excuse to stare down at his hands. Multiple silver and black rings adorned his hands. They fit him perfectly—snug on his pretty fingers and accenting his veiny hands perfectly.

During your examination, you hadn't exactly realized it but your cheek was now flush against his shoulder and your hair was tickling his neck.

No, you weren't smelling him, but it was hard not to scent it when you inhaled through your nose. He smelled of delicate laundry detergent—fresh, clean—and of minty vanilla. Breathing that in made you feel what was probably the most at home you'd felt in months.

You glanced up from his hands, to his Adam's apple, to his prosthetic face—his gaze remained attentive on the flip phone, dark lashes moving along to accommodate his flickering eyes. You looked away before he'd noticed, and paid attention to the game.

"You're good," you commented.

He didn't reply immediately, almost as if he'd looked over at you. The side of your face remained on his shoulder and your hair still brushed against the skin on his neck.

"Well, it's only Frogger," he remarked. "I bet you're better. Try it."

The sudden scent of ashy smoke consumed your senses. Larry must have exhaled halfway inside of the car. The vapor floated for a moment before dissipating into nothing.

You took the phone from Sal's hands and shifted in your seat to sit straight up. You pressed play on the game, and within seconds your frog had fallen into the water.

"I suck."

"No, you don't. You're just not trying hard enough."

"Potato, Potahto," you reply, shortly laughing at yourself and pressing play again nonetheless.

Suddenly, the vehicle slammed to a halt. You held onto the phone tight in one hand and steadied yourself on the passenger seat in front of you with your other one.

Sal seemed to have the same idea, except he seemed to panic and had braced yourself on your knee instead. You could have sworn you saw white for a split second, your insides jumping and chills fluttering down your spine. He quickly retracted his touch, catching your eye immediately.

"Sorry," Sal uttered.

"That's okay," you'd done a fine job gathering yourself together. "Perfectly fine."

"Jesus Christ, Ash! What the hell was that?" Larry calls from your left, the cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers. He was halfway through exhaling his smoke when he spoke again. Vapor spilled from his lips as he stared at the front of the vehicle. "Trying to kill us?"

"Whoops! Sorry guys, I almost missed the red light."

"That wasn't very wise," Todd remarked from the passenger seat, turning his head to look at Ash. You couldn't help but shortly giggle, looking back down at Sal's phone.

You heard Sal slowly exhale a breath of relief beside you.

"Yeah, anything but fucking wise," Larry scoffed. "Thought I was about to die, dude."

"I said I was sorry," you could hear the roll of Ashley's eyes in her voice. "My parents would kill me if I got a ticket. Also, who told you that you could smoke in my car?"

"I did." In your peripheral vision, he was staring blankly. "What're you going to do about it?"

In the rearview mirror, Ashley squinted her eyes but said nothing.

"This is a shit show," Sal murmured, looking back to his phone in your hands. You'd returned to the game, still attempting at getting past the first level. The digital frog continuously leaped over lily pads and logs. It was almost therapeutic.

"Sorry you don't want me back here, Sal." Larry's tone had transformed from mildly annoyed to slightly bitter. His cigarette had been held unattended for a decent amount of time so it had begun to burn out. "I didn't ask to third wheel."

You blinked and convinced yourself you'd heard him wrong.

You weren't looking at Sal's face. He was silent for a few seconds.

"Just chill out, alright?"

"I'll say what I want."

"It's too early for this, Larry," Sal bit out. "Cut it the fuck out."

Your heart pumped furiously.

"Where do you want to take this, Sal?"

Ashley jumped in incredibly quick, the car jerking as she turned the wheel abruptly, pulling the vehicle into the school's parking lot. "Fuck no. What the fuck are you thinking, Larry? Going to fight Sal because you're in a pissy mood?"

"I'm not going to fucking fight him, Ashley," He shook his head. "It's just- apparently he's got some kind of vendetta against me today so I guess we could talk somewhere else-"

"That's in your head, Larry," Sal said honestly. "I don't know what makes you think I have something against you today, but I don't. I don't know how you want me to prove that to you."

Larry settles into silence as Ashley pulls the Ford Fiesta into a parking space.

"Just- put the cigarette out and calm down, okay?"

It didn't look like the smoke had much left in it, but Larry still drew one last hit out of it before he stepped out of the car and crushed it beneath his shoe. He throws his bag over his shoulder and slams the car door behind him.

You look over at Sal, who was reaching for the door handle. Ashley and Todd had already exited the vehicle, and Ashley was standing by and waiting for you both to get out so she could lock the car.

"Hey," you murmured before he could leave. The blue-haired boy turned his head and inquired you with raised eyebrows. "Try to be patient with him, when you two talk it out. I haven't known him long—but I can tell he's the sort of person that wouldn't act like that unless something's bothering him."

Sal looks down at you thoughtfully, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him swallow thickly. "Yeah," he muttered. "He is that type of person. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

With that, you both exit the vehicle and Ashley locks the car. Todd and Larry had already walked up a measured distance ahead of the three of you.

"Do you know what that might have been about?" Ashley asks, directing the question toward Sal by holding eye contact with him. You walk to Sal's left, looking ahead as to not be intrusive on the conversation.

"Uh.." he trails off. A cool breeze filters past your face and legs and it makes you shiver. "Not really. Usually, it's about his mom. Whenever they've argued about something, it puts him in a bad mood."

Ashley seems to give herself a moment to reply.

"Anything else?"

Sal does the same.

"Not that I know of."

Your eyebrows twitch downward.

Ashley walks slightly ahead of the two of you. She calls your name, and you look up from the ground, startled. "How are you liking the apartments? Anytime I've been there, they're kind of creepy."

You giggle. "Yeah. You could say that. I'd say they're alright—it gets kind of cold. The water was fucking ice cold today. Could barely shower."

Ashley mirrors your laughter. "Anything else?"

You pause. "Larry has this really great treehouse. I don't know if you've been, but it's honestly pretty cool. It's homey."

She looks up to Sal in surprise. "She's already been? When did you guys show her?"

He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Uh, well, we didn't necessarily show her.."

Ashley looks at you curiously. You sarcastically pout towards Sal, finding his eyes to be twinkling with amusement. "I may have broken into it."

"Oh, you didn't break into it," Sal protests, exhaling sharply through his nose in a gentle chuckle. "You just didn't realize it was inhabited."

You look towards Ashley. "Long story short—I found a cool treehouse. Thought it was abandoned. Climbed into it. Coincidentally, Sal and Larry climbed into the treehouse while I was in it. It was embarrassing."

"It wasn't. It was funny," You could hear Sal's grin. "She smoked for the first time that day."

Ashley's jaw dropped in faux-astonishment. "You've tainted her innocence."

You smile. "It was honestly kind of horrible at first."

Before you knew it, the three of you had entered the school. After a few more minutes of banter and friendly conversation, you and Sal parted ways from Ashley to head towards your first class of the day: math.

Once again, Mrs. Packerton had given the class a math sheet. For god knows why she expected you to know all of these things off of the bat and get all of the questions right with barely any assistance. You were stuck on one problem like it always went.

Someone nudged your arm. You looked to your left and smiled at who was looking at you. He glanced down at your paper. "The answer's-"

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Mr. Fisher?"

Fuck, you thought, slowly looking up to your elderly teacher. Glancing over to Sal, his eyebrows were raised and he peered up at the woman at the front of the classroom with something akin to surprise in his eyes. "Uh-"

Before he could explain himself, Mrs. Packerton's entire facade did a 180 and her eyebrows were suddenly furrowed and her frown was deep-set. It was almost comical, and you strained to keep the laugh in. You weren't looking to break a rib, so you unfortunately giggled beneath your breath.

Her dark brown eyes slid over to you. After a moment of being examined and feeling extremely uncomfortable, she sighed.

"I'm administering detention for both of you, after school. I will let you finish the test, but next time this happens it'll be an immediate fail for both of you. Understood?”

You and Sal exchange both equally supposed expressions, before nodding together.

Before class is over, you see Travis giving Sal another sour look. Oh my god, you thought, twirling your pencil around in between your fingers. Is this going to have to be another talk, Travis?

The bell rang. You and Sal jumped up and fled the class as quickly as you could.

"Oh my god," he breathed, as you both stepped into the hallway and began maneuvering through the countless amount of students flooding the halls. "She's super fucking scary. I was so wrong."

You abruptly laugh. "Yeah. She's got that look in her eye." You pause. "I'm sorry, Sal. You wouldn't be getting a detention if it wasn't for me."

Sal tilts his head just slightly. "It's no big deal. It was my fault, anyway. It's not like you asked for my help either times I helped you out. It's not like my dad's going to be mad, anyway—he'll probably be relieved. I've never really got detention for anything, especially involving talking to another person. Probably'll be glad I'm being more social, haha."

You frown. "I'm still sorry."

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to be-"

"If only your friend wasn't so dumb, Sally Face. It's a shame that your perfect record is all tarnished."

Sal appears as though he knew who was talking a few words in. He inhales, turns around to face the blond boy behind him, and backs up a step. "What do you want, Travis?"

Your fingernails sink into your palms. It stings. You told him yesterday!

"Nothing. Just wanna know why she's so stupid."

Sal's eyes flicker. "Mm, think you're forgetting about how close you were to failing mid-terms last year. You're not very bright yourself."

Travis grows a bit red but he looks as though he's trying to ignore his growing frustration. It boggled you—the fact he was so easy to anger because of the fact Sal was defending himself. Defending.. you?

"Whatever. Why am I fucking arguing with a fucking satan worshipper, anyway?"

That genuinely surprised you. What kind of insult was that? And where did it come from?

"Whatever, Travis. God doesn't like bullies, either. I hope you don't kiss your daddy with that mouth-"

You're glad the hall is relatively empty because the crack you hear when Travis' fist meets Sal's prosthetic face is loud and startling. Your heart is in your throat. You place your hands on Travis' chest and push him into the lockers. The metal cages rattle beneath the sudden weight.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you?" You shout, red hot anger coursing through your body and pumping through your veins. "Get the fuck away. I swear to god, I'll-"

Sal murmurs your name, gripping your wrist. "Stop. Don't push him."

You give Travis the bitchiest expression you can muster. He scoffs and walks away. You're surprised he didn't throw one last insult into the air—but he instead walked down the hall with heavy footing, turned around the corner, and disappeared.

As soon as you're done watching him down the hall, you whip around to Sal with wide eyes. He was cupping the place where the mask cut off, collecting blood that dripped down.

"He's got a mean right hook," Sal breathily laughed.

The rage you currently felt made your head hurt. You quickly grabbed him by the wrist and hurried him towards the restrooms at the opposite side of the hall. On your way, the bell rings. You couldn't care less whether or not you were going to miss your class—it's not like you didn't have detention already.

"Hey, what're you-"

You pull him into the girl's bathroom, which was empty. You make sure to turn him away from the entrance. His eyes are as wide as two dinner plates.

"Huh. Smells nice in here," he comments. The fact that's the first thing he says tells you he's clearly in shock from being clocked in the face.

You grab some paper towels and look him in the eye.

"I'm going to clean you up now,"

You reach around his head.

"Hey, I- wait, you don't-"

You unbuckle the clasps at the back of his prosthetic and pull the prosthetic off of his face. You set it aside, and set it on the edge of the sink.

He slowly meets your gaze. The amount of internal fear that's held inside of those eyes—fear you know that's been held in for so long—is astonishing to you. Your eyes soften. You slide your gaze over his face, and all you can feel is an unbelievable amount of happiness and satisfaction.

Butterflies swarm your insides and beat against your ribs at the sight of his mouth.

It's just as kissable as you'd imagined.

Shut the fuck up, you snap back at yourself. Not the time.

You're unable to hold in the large smile that grows on your lips as you bring the paper towels toward his face and wipe away the blood that dripped from his nose, down his mouth, and fell down his chin—there was so much of it that it had made its way down to the collar of his shirt, staining the material scarlet red.

"You can give that to me later," you uttered. "I know a thing or two about getting blood out of clothes, haha."

His lips twitched, but he remained silent and let you do your thing.

After thoroughly cleaning his face off, you return the prosthetic to him, handling it with care.

"Here you go."

After he'd put it on, you met his eyes.

"Hey, Sal, I'm-"

"It's okay." He peered at you sincerely. "That went.. better than I thought it would. I just hope you don't think of me differently."

The thought appalled you.

"No!" You exclaimed, a bit too forceful. You gathered your composure and tried it again. "No. Um- I could never. Seriously. Your face doesn't change who you are, Sal. It doesn't make me think of you any different. You're still you. Besides, I- um... I liked it."

His eyebrows jump and he jerks his head upward. "What?"

"I liked it. I liked your face."

He was silent like it was taking him a little bit to process that. Your eyes wandered during this time, and they landed on the collar of his shirt, again. You cursed.

"Shit. Hold on."

Suddenly, you'd crossed your arms around your midriff and began pulling the sweater upward. The noise Sal made was almost comical.

"No, uh, you don't have to! It's fine, I can-"

Before he could stop you, the shirt was up and over your chest and it was off of your head. Thank god that you'd remembered the black top beneath, or else you'd feel really bad that you couldn't give him the sweater—it wasn't like you could walk around in just a bra (as much as you'd like to sometimes.)

He grabbed the article of clothing from you, hesitant. "You're sure?"

"Yep!"

"Alright," he murmured, cautious, pulling your sweater over his head and pulling it down his torso. Once he'd done so, he looked back to your eyes and inquired you with his own. "So? What do you think?"

Heart beating so loudly it thrummed in your ears, you replied: "You've never looked better," and grinned wider than you ever have before.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

271 notes · View notes

thelowlysatsuma · 4 years

Text

alright dipsticks, hear me out

taz balance au where everything is the same except that lucretia and barry have each others’ farspeech frequencies

it all starts about a year after lucretia voidfishes the plane. she’s poking around goldcliff, hoping to find some way to con some rich shit into paying for her gigantic moon base, when she runs — literally runs headfirst — into some bespectacled nerd in denim

barry, for his part, doesn’t know why this complete stranger is offering to buy him lunch as an apology for spilling his Fantasy Starbucks all over his oldass shirt, but he sure as shit isn’t complaining. especially when something, something about this kid feels so... familiar

in a spur of the moment decision, lucretia gives him her farspeech number. barry doesn’t think anything of it at the time

...anything, that is, until he’s rising, spectral and flickering, over his battered corpse, and he begins laughing hysterically, tears glimmering in long-gone eye sockets. he may not have lup back, but he’s got his little sister.

so they start texting. is barry furious at lucretia for what she’s done? sure, a bit. but he understands her logic, and his temper is soothed when she point-blank tells him that she’s going to help him find lup. they may be working against each other as far as the relics are concerned, but if lucretia can locate at least one more shred of her former family, then by god is she going to. barry understands, he thinks, and so they help keep each other a little less lonely over a long ten years

lucretia keeps barry updated on how the other birds are doing, as best she can. they rejoice together as magnus and julia take back raven’s roost, and when glamour springs is shadowed by a mass poisoning barry has to do everything up to physically restraining lucretia from beating the ass of whichever motherfucker did that to taako. wait, he tells her. physical pain is temporary. a lich, on the other hand, is in a prime position to make some douche’s life a living hell. lucretia grins and offers to fund his plots in any way she can.

barry, for his part, keeps lucretia up-to-date on the search for lup. they have matching little cork boards in their respective offices, each filled with maps and theories and half-baked what-ifs. they aren’t any closer to finding out what happened to her, but they will. they have to.

speaking of things happening, barry is the first one to find lucretia after wonderland. he hadn’t been able to reach her for a month, and so when he feels the enormous surge of pure magical despair explode outwards from the felicity wilds, he transports himself there as quickly as he can. he finds his baby sister at the centre of a mile-wide crater, twenty years older and countless sacrifices poorer, and he holds her as gently as he can without physical hands, and makes her promise to never deal with wonderland again. fuck, he’ll get the animus bell for her, he doesn’t care. he just can’t see lucretia in that state ever again. (never again, that’s what they told themselves, in a group huddle late one night the dawn of cycle 66. he’d failed her once. he couldn’t do it again.)

as she builds up the bureau, lucretia starts getting questions about her best friend on the stone. lucas asks her point blank who it is one day early in their acquaintance, and she answers “b- uh, b-j” “that tells me basically nothing. what does that even stand for?” lucas demands. “uh,” lucretia says, “🅱️amazing jrace”

thus begins a fine tradition of bureau employees trying to get any info they can on the mysterious “bj”, including his actual name. so far some of the top answers they’ve gotten from madame director include “bitchin jackass” “burger joint” “beetlejuice” and “banjo jimboree”. once, robbie asks her if he’s her secret lover, and lucretia has to summon a bucket before retching in disgust, which puts paid to that particular theory fairly succinctly

barry, for his part, adores these rumours. he keeps asking if lucretia will lift the lich barrier, just for a day, so he can come and stir up even more shit. lucretia, while admittedly very tempted, denies.

when he finds out that lucretia has been telling bureau employees that the red robes are evil, barry is understandably insulted. the next group of regulators that touch the ground are covered in fantasy cheez whiz for the duration of their mission.

lucretia gets him back by replacing all the denim in the jeans at his base with silly string. barry moves bases, and the prank war escalates

(no one has the courage to tell madame director that her hair has been turned rainbow at the last candlenights party. privately, lucretia thinks she looks bitchin)

every now and again, lucretia will text barry in a panic. these texts tend to look like this:

“barry.” “barold aid me” “barry I fucked shit up real good this time” “barry” “barry” “barry I was at the fantasy Olive Garden and the waiter said ‘enjoy your meal’ and I said ‘you too’ barry kill me n o w “

barry can and will mock lucretia mercilessly for this. he also insists for weekly video updates on fisher and junior.

he also has biweekly fantasy skype sessions with davenport

booyah: I saw a woman so beautiful I started crying???

bear-old: oh mood

booyah: and then I hired her and her son (who’s a little bitch) to work on my secret moon base and I think I’ve made a terrible mistake???????

bear-old: oh my fucking god this is why I don’t trust you to stop the apocalypse

when the thb start working as reclaimers, barry demands weekly updates on them, as well. it goes about as well as you’d expect

booyah: magnus ate the philosopher’s stone

bear-old: he fucking w h a t ?

booyah: he used the glutton’s fork, and he ATE the philosopher’s stone. taako and merle used stone skin and stone shape to get the damn thing out. happy fucking candlenights.

when barry finds out that taako’s DATING the fool who’s been chasing after him wile e coyote style for over a decade, he loses his s h i t. he and lucretia have a girls’ night where they bitch about taako and eat shitty chocolate to cope

bear-old: you HIRED a BABY???

booyah: he’s ten! that’s plenty old. and he’s certainly competent, seeing as he found my organization when even you couldn’t.

bear-old: creesh please. please do not Irreparably Fuck Up A Small Child

booyah: hey, at least I’m not the one who threw him off a moving train!

bear-old: I never threw anyone off a

bear-old: lucretia

bear-old: who

bear-old: who in your employ threw ANGUS MCDONALD, a LITERAL CHILD, off of a MOVING. VEHICLE?

booyah:

booyah: taako

bear-old: fucking fantasy CHRIST

(they have quite a few girls’ nights eating shitty chocolate and razzing on taako, actually)

team sweet flips goes to the director’s office one day to give a status report and find her red-eyed and coughing. she says she has allergies. the cute cat video barry just texted her on her stone, however, begs to differ

lucretia preps the boys for refuge, yes, but her mind is filled with texts and tomes and the letters “l u p” carved into a bureau wall. she passes countless sleepless nights with barry on the line, trying to decipher what it all means

but they emerge from the woven gulch unscathed, and that can only mean one thing: wonderland

she doesn’t tell barry where she’s sending them. she can’t let him interfere out of some misguided attempt to save her from the place. her texts grow few and far between

she doesn’t have to tell barry. he knows

the day they get sent out, as lucretia breaks down in her office, surrounded by a dizzying vastness that could envelop her very being if she would just let it, her stone buzzes.

four words: I’ll keep them safe

and then?

well, then it’s the end of the world

(but when lup emerges from her decade-long cage, phantasmal and resplendent, lucretia and barry share a look)

(and when the hunger is consuming the only home she knows and she’s flying out in one last attempt to face is, barry is on her stone)

(and when the dust settles and they’re finally, finally free, when the world hears a story and a song and former and current bureau employees alike learn just how important the mysterious “bj” really is, when lucretia looks at the wreckage of her life’s work and home and family — when all that happens, barry is the one to beckon to her with open arms.)

(they’ve been beside the other for a hundred and ten years, after all. that’s not gonna fucking change now.)

anyways yeah folks barry and lucretia texting au play with me in this space

@littlemisscritical @thatcoldfeeling and you know what? @herbgerblin what the hell

2K notes · View notes

bluecarelesswhisper · 3 years

Text

TOP 100 FEMALE SOLO SINGERS OF THE '50S AND '60S

Patti Page - All My Love, The Tennessee Waltz, Mockin' Bird Hill, I Went to Your Wedding, The Doggie in the Window, Cross Over the Bridge, Allegheny Moon, Old Cape Cod; Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte

Connie Francis - Who's Sorry Now, My Happiness, Lipstick on Your Collar, Everybody's Somebody's Fool, My Heart Has a Mind of its Own, Where the Boys Are, Don't Break the Heart That Loves You

Brenda Lee - Sweet Nothin's, I'm Sorry, I Want to Be Wanted, Fool #1, Break it to Me Gently, All Alone Am I

Kay Starr - Wheel of Fortune, Side By Side, Changing Partners, If You Love Me (Really Love Me), Rock and Roll Waltz

Doris Day - A Guy is a Guy, Secret Love, If I Give My Heart to You; Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera); Everybody Loves a Lover

Dionne Warwick - Anyone Who Had a Heart, Walk on By, I Say a Little Prayer, (Theme from) Valley of the Dolls, I'll Never Fall in Love Again

Aretha Franklin - I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You), Respect, Baby I Love You, Chain of Fools, The House That Jack Built

Teresa Brewer - Music! Music! Music!, Till I Waltz Again With You, Ricochet, A Tear Fell, A Sweet Old Fashioned Girl

Jo Stafford - Shrimp Boats, You Belong to Me, Jambalaya, Keep it a Secret, Make Love to Me!

Rosemary Clooney - Come On-a My House, Half as Much, Botch-A-Me, Hey There, This Ole House

Joni James - Why Don't You Believe Me, Have You Heard, Your Cheatin' Heart; My Love, My Love; How Important Can it Be?

Petula Clark - Downtown, I Know a Place, My Love, This is My Song, Don't Sleep in the Subway

Dinah Washington - I Don't Hurt Anymore, What a Diff'rence a Day Makes, Unforgettable, This Bitter Earth

Mary Wells - The One Who Really Loves You, You Beat Me to the Punch, Two Lovers, My Guy

Georgia Gibbs - Kiss of Fire, Seven Lonely Days, Tweedle Dee, Dance With Me Henry (Wallflower)

Lesley Gore - It's My Party, Judy's Turn to Cry, She's a Fool, You Don't Own Me

Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walkin'; How Does That Grab You, Darlin'?; Sugar Town, Love Eyes

Sarah Vaughan - Make Yourself Comfortable, How Important Can it Be?, Whatever Lola Wants, Broken-Hearted Melody

Dusty Springfield - I Only Want to Be With You, Wishin' and Hopin', You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, Son-Of-A Preacher Man

Ruth Brown - Teardrops From My Eyes, 5-10-15 Hours, (Mama) He Treats Your Daughter Mean, Oh What a Dream

Kitty Wells - It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels, Makin' Believe, Searching (For Someone Like You), Heartbreak U.S.A.

Etta James - The Wallflower, All I Could Do Was Cry, At Last, Tell Mama

LaVern Baker - Tweedlee Dee, Play it Fair, Jim Dandy, I Cried a Tear

Gale Storm - I Hear You Knocking, Teen Age Prayer, Dark Moon

Dinah Shore - My Heart Cries For You, Sweet Violets, Chantz-Chantez

Jaye P. Morgan - That's All I Want From You, Danger! Heartbreak Ahead, The Longest Walk

Eydie Gorme - Mama, Teach Me to Dance; You Need Hands, Blame it on the Bossa Nova

Carla Thomas - Gee Whiz (Look at His Eyes), B-A-B-Y, I Like What You're Doing (To Me)

Patsy Cline - Walkin' After Midnight, I Fall to Pieces, Crazy

Peggy Lee - Lover, Fever, Is That All There Is

Dee Dee Sharp - Mashed Potato Time, Gravy (For My Mashed Potatoes), Ride!

Kitty Kallen - Little Things Mean a Lot, In the Chapel in the Moonlight, My Coloring Book

Annette - Tall Paul, O Dio Mio, Pineapple Princess

Cher - All I Really Want to Do, Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down), You Better Sit Down Kids

Barbra Streisand - People, He Touched Me, Second Hand Rose

Linda Scott - I've Told Every Little Star, Don't Bet Money Honey, I Don't Know Why

Connie Smith - Once a Day, Ain't Had No Lovin', The Hurtin's All Over

Barbara Lewis - Hello Stranger, Baby I'm Yours, Make Me Your Baby

Anita Bryant - Till There Was You, Paper Roses, In My Little Corner of the World

Skeeter Davis - My Last Date (With You), The End of the World, I Can't Stay Mad at You

Sue Thompson - Sad Movies (Make Me Cry), Norman, Paper Tiger

Della Reese - And That Reminds Me, Don't You Know, Not One Minute More

Loretta Lynn - Don't Come Home A-Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind), Fist City, Woman of the World (Leave My World Alone)

Betty Everett - You're No Good, The Shoop Shoop Song, There Comes a Time

Jackie DeShannon - What the World Needs Now is Love, Put a Little Love in Your Heart, Love Will Find a Way

Timi Yuro - Hurt, What's a Matter Baby, Make the World Go Away

Debbie Reynolds - Tammy, A Very Special Love, Am I That Easy to Forget

Gogi Grant - Suddenly There's a Valley, Who Are We, The Wayward Wind

Maxine Brown - All in My Mind, Funny, Oh No Not My Baby

Betty Johnson - I Dreamed, Little White Lies, The Little Blue Man

Jean Shepard - A Satisfied Mind, Beautiful Lies, Second Fiddle (To An Old Guitar)

Shirley Ellis - The Nitty Gitty, The Name Game, The Clapping Song

Little Eva - The Loco-Motion, Keep Your Hands Off My Baby, Let's Turkey Trot

Vera Lynn - Auf Wiederseh'n Sweetheart, Yours, If You Love Me (Really Love Me)

Eartha Kitt - C'est Si Bon, Santa Baby, Somebody Bad Stole De Wedding Bell

Lulu - To Sir With Love, Best of Both Worlds, Morning Dew

June Valli - Crying in the Chapel, I Understand, Apple Green

Connie Stevens - Sixteen Reasons, Why'd You Wanna Make Me Cry, Mr. Songwriter

Jane Morgan - Fascination, The Day the Rains Came, With Open Arms

Nancy Wilson - (You Don't Know) How Glad I Am, I Wanna Be With You; Face it Girl, it's Over

Esther Phillips - Release Me, And I Love Him, When a Woman Loves a Man

Vikki Carr - It Must Be Him, The Lesson, With Pen in Hand

Little Peggy March - I Will Follow Him, I Wish I Were a Princess; Hello Heartache, Goodbye Love

Mindy Carson - Candy and Cake, My Foolish Heart, Wake the Town and Tell the People

Sandy Posey - Born a Woman, Single Girl, I Take it Back

Bobbie Gentry - Ode to Billie Joe, Fancy

Brenda Holloway - Every Little Bit Hurts, When I'm Gone

Eileen Rodgers - Miracle of Love, Treasure of Your Love

Barbara Lynn - You'll Lose a Good Thing, Second Fiddle Girl

Dottie West - Here Comes My Baby, Would You Hold it Against Me

Baby Washington - That's How Heartaches Are Made, Only Those in Love

Kathy Linden - Billy; Goodbye Jimmy, Goodbye

Cathy Carr - Ivory Tower, First Anniversary

Fontella Bass - Rescue Me, Recovery

Barbara Mason - Yes, I'm Ready; Sad, Sad Girl

Marianne Faithfull - As Tears Go By, Summer Nights

Shelley Fabares - Johnny Angel, Johnny Loves Me

Wanda Jackson - Let's Have a Party, In the Middle of a Heartache

Tammy Wynette - D-I-V-O-R-C-E, Stand By Your Man

Mama Cass - Dream a Little Dream of Me, It's Getting Better

Faye Adams - Shake a Hand, Hurts Me to My Heart

Jill Corey - I Love My Baby, Love Me to Pieces

Dodie Stevens - Pink Shoe Laces, No

Bettye Swann - Make Me Yours, Don't Touch Me

Jan Howard - Evil on Your Mind, Bad Seed

Nina Simone - I Loves You, Porgy; Ain't Got No; I Got Life

Norma Jean - Go Cat Go, I Wouldn't Buy a Used Car From Him

Miss Toni Fisher - The Big Hurt, West of the Wall

Damita Jo - I'll Be There, If You Go Away

Patty Duke - Don't Just Stand There, Say Something Funny

Bonnie Guitar - Dark Moon, Mister Fire Eyes

Gloria Lynne - I Wish You Love, Watermelon Man

Jody Miller - Queen of the House, Home of the Brave

Gisele MacKenzie - Hard to Get, The Star You Wished Upon Last Night

Betty Madigan - Joey, Dance Everyone Dance

Ketty Lester - Love Letters, But Not For Me

Barbara George - I Know (You Don't Love Me No More), You Talk About Love

Joanie Sommers - One Boy, Johnny Get Angry

Irma Thomas - Don't Mess With My Man, Wish Someone Would Care

Diane Renay - Navy Blue, Kiss Me Sailor

#50s #60s #music

19 notes · View notes

maschotch · 3 years

Note

hey, anon again. I wanted to message you after I finished the s5 finale. I like the unique dynamics btwn hotch morgan and prentiss as a whole, but kinda biased towards hotch so far. I would say that my fav season would be a tie between s1 and s4. s4 loses some points cause of Rossi related stuff but it had some strong eps and s1 was where it all started. (altho s2 is a strong contender now w your takes) One thing I'm still not used to about this show is the way the finales are one shots – (1/?)

hello anon! welcome back!!

im gonna put the discussion under the read more so its not too clunky. tw sa

hotch emily and morgan are definitely my favs lmao so im just gonna call it good taste and move on ;P

season 4 has some truly legendary episodes. pleasure is my business, 52 pickup, minimal loss, normal, demonology, a shade of grey... truly truly iconic criminal minds moments right there. i completely understand the rossi thing. personally, the atrocious acting and the just plain stupid writing is so funny to me. i think because its so bad it makes it easy to dismiss and ignore? and when im forced to look at it, it’s just funny, so i can laugh it off and call him a silly old grandpa. he definitely has some truly horrid moments (theres an episode wayy later that has his Genuinely Irredeemable Moment for me) but the rest of the season is so good i really just try to ignore it

i’m so excited to get to season 5. the parallels between hotch and foyet with elle and the fisher king is bone chilling tbh. and the practically explicit references to sexual assault? with elle we get it through her dialogue with reid, and it’s more an allusion than anything else. i think its meant to be more of a “he stuck his hand in her wound instead of outright sexually assaulting her” but her conversation and connection with the victims in aftermath is a direct reference. but with hotch i feel like it was more visual and less of a discussion. mostly because we got to see it happen, but foyet stripping, laying hotch down, impaling him over and over, watching his fists clench, “maybe this will change the way you profile” all of that can be directly interpreted as foyet sexually assaulting hotch.

and then the brutal beating of foyet in 100? again, the circumstances were different for elle in aftermath: elle sought out lee and foyet was on his way to kill jack. but its so so interesting to watch hotch’s sense of morality develop and morph and twist over the seasons and it really makes his treatment of her after the fisher king that much more brutal. i think some people like to call him hypocritical, but to me i feel like he becomes much more lenient with his team after elle and makes more and more exceptions for the others throughout the seasons until he’s finally confronted with foyet. it’s less hypocritical and more.. a change of heart. because i think if you asked season 4 hotch how he felt about how he handled elle’s situation in s2, he would know it was wrong. he just learned too late.

foyet/100 was a fun little torture session for hotch and i love watching my little guy get beat up <3 but it doesnt excuse the extremely misogynistic writing with regards to haley. the writers have never treated haley well: they abandon whatever semblance of a character she was intended to have and just twist her into whatever’s currently needed to hurt hotch the most. so doing all that and then killing her just so hotch can have another tragedy in his life was just really a bad move. if it was me i think it would be way funnier but just as emotionally devastating for hotch if haley just got remarried lmao. and his decision to return to work immediately after her death was absolutely the wrong choice. i dont think they necessarily outright approve it: they have to concede at least a little that hotch has to be some kind of fucked up in the head to just leave his son alone while continuing in his extremely dangerous job. and jessica suddenly appearing and being perfectly willing to take on the responsibility of his child whenever it’s convenient for him is definitely a cop out on their end. but unless they wanted him to leave the show, there was really no other choice to be made.

mild spoiler: there’s an interesting line wayyyyyyy later about how after haley died “aaron hotchner was never the same. which meant [the team] was never the same” and i think thats just such a neat way of confirming that just because hotch doesn’t talk about it at all, doesn’t mean the others didn’t feel the staggering effects it had on the team as a whole. it changed the mindset. there are direct consequences now. the monsters can follow you home. and sometimes, even if you do everything right, they can still win.

foyet really is the ultimate villain of criminal minds. they try to outdo him in different ways, trying to make things bigger and badder with each season, but nothing hits quite as hard as that last phone call with haley. and her final hug to jack? just kill me tbh. that being said, i truly dont think it could’ve happened to anyone but hotch. no one is as invested in the job. he’s dedicated so much already, sacrificed so much already. he’s dragged the team through hell and pulled them back to the light each time. he’s the solid unwavering pillar of the team, and he has no choice but to stand tall without risking the entire team crumbling. he’s invested more into developing the bau family than he has his own, so its not something he’s going to just abandon. and certainly not for his own sake. he lives for others so to have something so devastating be his fault rips through him to the core, scarring him deeper than foyet’s knife ever could. and even though he can’t falter and pushes on, that failure is a constant weight on his mind that he can’t--and honestly shouldn’t--ever brush off.

very happy to hear from you and very excited for you to get to season 6. i dont know how much you’ve heard, so i’ll keep my thoughts to myself for now. thank you for the update! it’s so so interesting to watch someone else experience significant events of a show for the first time. i think i was like 12 or 13 when i watched cm for the first time? i only got to s7 by then i think (honestly i dont think anything else had been released at that point) so its been a long time since my first experience. its cringy, its copaganda, its problematic in all the ways you’d expect from a crime show, but the characters are really something else and take it to the next level. time moves on, interests fade, but i keep coming back to this stupid fucking show and im excited to see someone else enjoy it.

(your third ask did not make it to my inbox :( tumblr fucking sucks lmao)

#describing foyet as a knife hanging over him is honestly so fitting and perfect imagery for that tension in early s5 #asks #lets see i started this blog around new years? i think i'll be done with season 2 by the end of the month #2 seasons a month aint bad... but god it means i have so long before i get to s5

2 notes · View notes

f-ngrl · 3 years

Video

youtube

Midas P - Flamingo (Feat. Skinny Brown, Jayci Yucca, Urban Fisher) [Prod by Midas P]

Some time ago, Wayside Town’s producer Midas P debuted! He has already been releasing mixtapes and producing hit songs for years, now this is finally his first officially released song as a solo artist. It features crew members Skinny Brown, Jayci yucca, and Urban Fisher.

I really like his style. When I hear his tags I know it’s going to be good. You might have heard his productions before :) He usually uses “midas on the beat” and/or “ey bro, where da midas at” (both spoken by Skinny Brown, you will recognize his voice) as producer tags.

I think so far my fave songs of his were The Quiett’s “Abu Dhabi” and Skinny Brown’s “Winning”. He is one of those producers who have been everywhere, you just didn’t know :D

Flamingo is just as great, check it out if you haven’t!

#midas p #flamingo #wysd #khh #khiphop #skinny brown #jayci yucca #urban fisher #yeah i'm cleaning up to-do and to-recommend lists :D #songrecs

2 notes · View notes

duvetsandpillows · 5 years

Text

Lando Norris Fluffy A-Z

A = Attractive: what do they find attractive about the other?

He love your eyes, the moment your eye locked with his, he knew that you were the one, he had never seen such bright beautiful eyes. He is sure he saw them literally sparkle.

B = Baby: do they want a family? why/why not?

One day definitley but not for a few years. You two are practically kids yourself.

C = Cuddle: how do they cuddle?

He loves to be little spoon but he would never admit that to anyone. In public he always has an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

D = Dates: what are dates with them like?

For your first date Lando took you out to Top Golf and then for ice cream. During the season you don’t see each other that much so dates tend to be takeout and movies.

E = Everything: “you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…)

You are my princess.

F = Feelings: when did they know they were falling in love?

He fell head over heels when he met you and those feelings only grew stronger everytime you spoke to him, to the point where he’d be a stuttering mess. It got to the point where you were the one to make the first move.

G = Gentle: are they gentle? If so, how?

Lando was as gentle as he could be with you. However when it came to in general he was quite clumsy and would brek a lot of things or hurt himself.

H = Hand/Hold: how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

He isn’t the biggest fan of holding hands. He prefers having an arm round your waist or shoulder.

I = Impression: first impression/s

He thought you were the coolest woman in the world. He immediately got self concious that you would think he was a loser and was very shocked when you asked if he wanted to hang out with you later.

J = Joker: are they into pulling pranks?

You loved to scare each other, jumping out of closets, hiding under beds ect, you had a small compertition to see how was easier to scare.

K = Kisses: how do they kiss?

When out in public he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead but when you’re alone he loves to kiss your lips. He loves how plump and soft they are.

“Kissing you is like kissing a cloud of happiness.”

L = Love: who says I love you first?

Lando had come back from Belgium and went straight to your flat. You were acting off with him and he didn’t know why. He sat down with you on the sofa and took your hands in his.

“You’re just gonna leave me in a month or so for a model or something now you’re an F1 driver.

“I love you more than you could ever imagine baby. It’s me and you against the world.

M = Memory: their favourite moment together

You had spent the night gaming together. It started with Lando teaching you how to drive his simulator. with you desperately trying to do a better lap time than him. After a couple hours you swtitched to fifa and you ended up beating him but Lando was adament that he let you win because he was a gentleman.

N = Nickel: do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

He doesn’t really spoil you with possessions but he spoils you with memories, days out, weekends away. He spoils you with all the time he devotes to you.

O = Orange: what colour reminds them of their other half?

Purple. The day he met you, your eyemake was a light smoky purple look. Everytime he sees that shade his first thought is of you.

P = Pet names: what pet names do they use?

My love, Baby, Mush

Q = Quaint: what is their favourite non-modern thing?

He enjoys drawing. Whether it’s helmet designs, random doodles or portraits of you. If he wasn’t gaming he almost always had a pencil in is hand.

R = Rainy Day: what do they like to do on a rainy day?

You would always go on long drives together when it rained. You would take a map out and choose a random town you’d never heard of and would set off exploring, taking turns at driving and at times getting lost.

S = Sad: how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Lando gets very quiet and to himself when he is feeling down. He will beat himself up over whatever it is wrong, no matter how small it is. As soon as you notice you pull him into a hug. Eventually he will tell you what is wrong, after you persuaded him to tell you. He always thought he was bothering you, You two en up scrolling through memes finding ones that make him giggle.

T = Talking: what do they love to talk about?

He loves talking about his family. He is very close with them even though he doesn’t get to see them a lot due to them having very busy schedules, you love seeing him happy he gets when he gets off the phone with one of his siblings and tells you what they’ve been up to.

U = Unencumbered: What helps them relax?

He loves to play with your hair. He is determined to learn how to plait so he can give you funky hair.

V = Vaunt: what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

Lando isn’t the keenest in showing off. The only think he does is his helmet designs that he has created for races.

W = Wedding: when, how, where do they propose?

You’re both still young so it wasn’t really on your minds but Lando knew that one day he would make you his wife.

X = Xylophone: What’s their song?

Stop it by Fisher. Ever since that radio check it’s become yours and Lando’s boogie song.

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You’re the milk to my mug.

Z = Zebra: if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

Neither of you have the time for pets at the moment but you’ve been desperate for a dog, to which Lando ended up giving in and bought you a German Shepherd puppy for Christmas.

#lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1

354 notes · View notes

arlome · 5 years

Note

For your prompt list! "Are we on a date right now?" for phrack (pretty please)

But of course! This turned out to be a modern au - I have no idea, don’t ask :P

“...and then he looks up at me, all puppy-eyed and dazed, and asks, ‘Are we on a date right now’? , so I turn to him, give him my sweetest smile, and say, “silly Hugh, of course we are”!”

Phryne Fisher shakes her head at her assistant’s story and takes another sip of whisky.

“Men, my dear Dot,” she starts philosophically, “are clueless and hopeless, but they do have their uses.”

Dorothy Williams giggles and blushes, hiding her pretty face behind the gigantic paper umbrella the smitten bartender put in her virgin cocktail.

Mac snorts in utter distaste and downs her vodka. She’s never been one to beat around the bush.

“Or they don’t,” she grouses and motions for another drink. “Trust me, Dottie, women are the answer to everything.”

Dot blushes again and Phryne rolls her eyes at her friends; time to change the subject.

“So, everything’s going fine with your dashing constable?” she asks, twirling her almost empty tumbler in her hand. “Everything back on track after that Ball debacle last week?”

Dot slumps a little in her seat and Phryne finds herself beyond politely interested.

“It’s... good, Miss,” the younger woman says, dunking the hideously pink umbrella in the innocent cocktail. “It’s just...he’s always busy, always at the Station, and when we go out, he’s tired. Can’t you talk to the Inspector, Miss? Maybe convince him to give Hugh fewer shifts?”

Phryne nearly drops her glass on the table.

“Oh, I’d be happy to try, Dot,” she offers and places her unfinished drink back on firm land. “But you know I have little sway over Jack. After all, we’re just colleagues.”

Mac snorts into her drink.

***

She panting with exertion, shaking with satiating release. Sweat pools at the hollow of her throat and coats her alabaster skin in a thin film of radiance, giving her an almost ethereal glow in the low light of her spacious bedroom.

“Now that, Inspector,” she huffs, laughing and smiling with a flood of endorphins that threatens to overtake her and drown her very being, “was quite the workout.”

He chuckles and falls back against her cotton sheets, his breath rapid and shaky.

“You can say that again,” he smiles smugly, his teeth gleaming white in the semi-darkness. “No, seriously, you can.”

She hits him playfully and he laughs, pulling her tight to his chest. Phryne curls against his side and splays her fingers over his ribcage.

“Jaaaaacckk,” she begins after a few moments pass and their breath goes back to normal; she’s deterred from her course by his low chuckle and the shaking of his chest beneath her.

“Oh no,” he sighs, his fingers skimming the small of her back absentmindedly. “Alright, out with it.”

“How do you know I want anything?” she asks innocently, her voice rising a little towards the end.

He pulls her to him and kisses the crown of her head; something inside her melts a little at the gesture.

“Because I know you, Phryne; so, come on - out with it.”

‘Well....I met Dot today - “

Jack groans.

“Phryne,” he sighs and runs a hand over his handsome face. “I know your assistant wants to spend time with her boyfriend, but I’m not taking Collins off his schedule.”

Well, damn. She should have realised he’ll see right through that.

“Surely, some leniency in his shift schedule won’t hurt his progress...?” she murmurs, her left thigh rising a little upwards to press against his most sensitive parts. Jack groans in appreciation but places a firm hand over her leg, halting her progress.

“Absolutely out of the question, Miss Fisher,” he says deeply, and Phryne shivers just a tad. She can’t help it when he sounds so authoritative, and she has a feeling the smug bastard knows it. “Collins is a good lad, he shows promise; but he’s green and gullible. Too young for his own good.”

She snorts and rises a little to plant her chin on his chest.

“You’re thirty-seven, Jack; that’s hardly ancient.”

Her inspector rolls his eyes at her, the line of his jaw jumping a little; he really is quite lovely.

“It has nothing to do with age, Phryne, and everything to do with experience.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes this time.

“Is this where we talk about your years in the ADF, Leuitenant Robinson?”

He smirks down at her, his gaze appreciative.

“Or we can talk about yours, Nurse Fisher.”

“Point taken,” she purrs and leans over him to plant a kiss to his generous mouth. He hums enthusiastically and pulls her over him; there’s no more talking for a while.

“So, no chance for Hugh?” Phryne asks once the kisses are over; she’s sitting astride his hips, drawing lazy circles over his taut abdomen.

“None whatsoever,” Jack replies smugly and reaches for his watch. One glance at the digits sends him cursing. “Ugh, fuck. I have to go.”

“Must you?” she pouts, rocking her hips just a little, trying to distract him from leaving. He groans deep in his throat, his hands flying to her waist.

“Phryne, I can’t stay, you know it,” he gasps, his fingers flexing against her skin. “If anybody finds out I’m sleeping with my civilian consultant, they’ll never let me work cases with you again.”

“What rot,” she mutters darkly and climbs off his lap. Jack sighs shakily in relief.

“Would you rather work with O’Shaughnessy?” he asks, knowing full well what her reaction will be.

Sure enough, Phryne regards him with a mix of disgust and dawning horror.

“O’Shaughnessy is an idiot!” she cries in dismay, and Jack shrugs a little complacently.

“My point exactly.”

He rises from her bed, naked and sweaty from their rather spectacular session of vigorous fucking, and Phryne leans back against her pillows to appreciate the view as he gathers his clothes off her floor.

“What if we were married?” she asks suddenly. “What then?”

Jack freezes in the midst of pulling his shirtsleeves on, his back turned to her.

“I thought you weren’t into marriage,” he says, at last, his voice somewhere miles away.

Phryne shrugs; then, remembering he can’t possibly see her reaction, she adds, “I’m not. Just wondering aloud.”

“Hmmm.”

He sits on the bed to pull his trousers on and tie his shoelaces.

“I suspect the outcome is the same, to be honest,” he says after a while. “I don’t know of any married detectives who work together as partners.”

“So, no elopement in our future, then?”

He turns to her, smiling a little wistfully. “Probably not.”

Phryne’s breath stutters in her throat at the sight of him rising off the bed, at the vision of him slinging his tie around his neck.

“Jack,” she murmurs, and he stops fidgeting with the silky stripe of fabric. “I do love you, you know.”

His eyes soften and he leans over to kiss her with all the emotion he keeps locked away in his deep, passionate heart.

“What’s this about, Phryne?” he asks, his fingers brushing some strands of her raven hair behind one ear. “What’s brought this on?”

“I envy Dot!” she cries suddenly, her voice rising a little in intensity. Jack looks at her in surprise. “And I envy Hugh! They can be open with their relationship and only need to worry about him being on the clock too often. But you and I... we have to sneak around like some criminals. It’s not fair...”

He smiles down at her - one of those secret, open smiles; one with actual teeth showing - and gently takes her face in his hands.

“True,” he agrees, even though his eyes are shining almost wickedly. “But think of all the fun you and I get to have.”

Phryne pulls him down by the loose ends of his tie; it takes some time before he’s fit enough to leave her bed.

***

She finds him the next day at work, pouring over their latest case file.

“Good morning, Inspector,” she singsongs and takes a seat on the edge of his desk. Jack raises his eyes at her, seemingly unimpressed, but under the table, his thigh presses into her calf.

“Miss Fisher,” he rumbles, his eyes dark and intense. “I wondered when you’ll be coming in. There’s something in the evidence storage room that I need to show you.”

Phryne smiles brightly, her expression just on the right side of sly. She hops off the desk, her fingers brushing his arm.

“Lead the way, Inspector.”

Jack is right, they do have fun.

#prompt list ask #phrack #mfmm fanfic #modern au #my fic

60 notes · View notes

inthebefore · 4 years

Video

youtube

https://amzn.to/34jY9Ow

Imaginext DC Super Friends Batmobile-Review

No wonder kids love Batman so much and when it comes to gifting a very special Christmas gift to your little one, nothing can beat the charm of Batman toys. Your kid will play with the Batman toy for hours on end.

The best part of gifting Batman toy or superhero toy is that it will allow your child to go into the world of imagination where he can create all types of scenarios where Batman can save the world. Batman or superhero toy will definitely enhance your child’s self- esteem and confidence. It will also improve the communication skills and story-telling ability in your child.

Now, you might be wondering what type of batman toys that you should buy when there are thousands of batman toys to choose from. Well, Fisher-Price Imaginext DC Super Friends Batmobile is one of the most popular Batman car or Batmobiles available in Amazon. As a ardent fan of Batman, your child will be very happy to receive a Christmas gift like Fisher-Price Imaginext DC Super Friends Batmobile.

Things that have made this batman car really special: The cockpit of this bat-mobile opens up so that Batman can sit inside. The car comes with two wings that open up, so your kid can play with the car with wings opened or closed. The car has pop up shield and a canon which rotates like real batman car.

The batman car comes with three projectiles (they can be fired), a Batman figure, a handheld bat-gun and three bat-missiles. Your child will surely play with this bat-car for hours fighting the villains, chasing the bad guys and while ensuring complete safety and security for the Gotham city. This toy is recommended for the child aged 3 and above. The bat-car can be an excellent stand alone toy or a great addition to your child’s existing Batman collection. Bat-car can be an excellent gift for any Batman lover and when it’s your kid, it will give him great escape to the world of imaginative adventure..

Reasons why Fisher-Price Imaginext DC Super Friends Batmobile is recommended: Kids always love batmobile toys, especially those with the cool accessories. The openable cockpit is a fantastic feature that your toddler will really enjoy, especially when it comes to placing Batman figurine inside the car. The quality of the toy material is really good and it is sturdy enough so that it can last for a long time. This type of toys always gives a boost to the level of your child’s imagination power. Kids always love batcar with foldable wings. This batman-car actually shoot missiles like the real batmobile. The box includes a Batman and an armored vest which kids really love.

FOR ALL OF THE BATMAN LOVERS ( BECAUSE SOME PARENTS LOVE BATMAN MORE THAN THEIR KIDS ) click the link if you need this batmobile for your little one!

#batmanlovers #batmanfans #bruce wayne #fisherprice #superhero #christmasgifts #amazon bestsellers #amazon affiliate #amazon associates program

2 notes · View notes

loisfreakinglane · 4 years

Note

tscc, dark angel, angel

G A S P! SHOCK! A DEEP DIVE! lol thank you

tscc:

Favorite Male Character- DUDE THATS SUCH A HARD QUESTION suffice it to say this is either john or derek depending on when you ask, buuuuuuut terminator in my face i say john

Favorite Female Character- JESSEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Least Favorite Character- i. struggle to think of anybody i found bad or boring or anything???? oh okay you know what i have eternal mixed feelings about the character we know as eileen/alan/abraham and the weird choices around them. yeah thats all i got

Favorite Ship- derek/jesse my heart breaks and i am just a mess forevermore

Favorite Friendship- lmao there is no way to call it a friendship it is not a friendship but riley/jesse is so very fucked up in so many trillions of ways but god i’m obsessed with them......... also riley/john i would have fucking loved to see them have a real relationship, platonic or otherwise, their dynamic is SO GOOD and the possibility of their dynamic when they were both open about themselves.... fUCK

Favorite Quote- there are so many off the top of my head but like the biggest gutpunch to me personally was when jesse called derek out for his suicide attempt, asking what was he doing there when she found him and he just says ~i was waiting for you~ THO THO THO ALTERNATIVELY when they’re trying to get ellison to help program john henry and he says- you wanna teach it commands? start with the first ten.

Worst Character Death (if any)- uhhhhhh i think i like all of the character deaths on this show- i mean rileys death K I L L S me but i’m not angry about it and it was incredibly well done. dereks? maybe? i’m not actually mad about it but it was very abrupt. like i get it tho? OH WAIT I HAVE A REAL ONE friendgirl of johns who killed herself in the plotline that was never resolved bc of the writers strike. that was horrifying and ultimately we never even got a reason (beyond the obvious one they hinted at)

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment- what on this show makes anybody happy????? ever?????????????????????? uhhhhh. fuck. i mean the reveal about who riley is is SO GOOD i’m just always happy when the pieces slot together and we see new depth?

Saddest Moment- so many things on this show make me sob but like peak among them bc like you can feel your soul screaming bc you have no idea what could be done differently, when riley and john both ask the other if they’ve got anything they want to tell them, and they both say no they don’t EVEN THO THEY BOTH KNOW WHAT THE OTHER ONE WANTS TO SAY BUT THE ACTUALLY SAYING IT PART WOULD CHANGE LITERALLY EVERYTHING UGH FUCK KFUCK FUCKCCCKCK

Favorite Location- the stupid future tunnels where i want to see what happens next in the series finale FUCK

dark angel:

Favorite Male Character- uhhhhhhhhh even tho him being 95% of the tags every time i check have grated all of my nerves, yeah i still love alec the most when it comes to dudes

Favorite Female Character- max is a forever and ever and ever girl

Least Favorite Character- ames white. i don’t remember much about that plotline but i remember a lot of UGHS and groaning

Favorite Ship- cindy/diamond i’m mad forever I KNOW THEY WERE ONLY ONE EPISODE BUT ME/THEM FOREVER

Favorite Friendship- max/cindy eternally, the best ride or dies ever

Favorite Quote- fight the power, protect the downtrodden. blah blah, woof woof. ALSO max’s whole little once upon a time story about tinga...... :(

Worst Character Death (if any)- diamonds death was painful and i hated it and it was a dumb thing anyway. like at least she got revenge but MEH TAKE IT BACK I DON’T WANT THESE. worse character resurrection is zack they should have just let him stay dead instead of turning him into a robot (i like zack this isn’t a slam against him but it was an epic death for him) OH OH ALSO ANNIE FISHER she never should have died that was dumb and a waste of kandyse mcclure

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment- when cindy and max cheated the money off of those assholes and then beat them up, still in their itty bitty sparkly outfits and left with such flair :) but just also max forever........ cindy/max forever.......... mine own heart.

Saddest Moment- when the show decided to make clones a thing breaking the whole internal logic of the entire first season aka them not knowing what the kids looked like :( I SAD

Favorite Location- i always thought the jam pony set was really fun. i love that the whole last episode was set there.

angel:

Favorite Male Character- angel, with a side called gunn or connor YAH I LIKE CONNOR I SAID IT YOU CAN ALL SUCK IT

Favorite Female Character- cordelia chase forever and EVER nobody else on planet earth holds a candle to her

Least Favorite Character- look i love christian kane i do, hes amazing in leverage- but man lindsey......... hes fine when hes snarking at lilah tho i’m with lilah in that groaning and screaming at wr&h being so blatantly misogynistic in preferring weak ass flip flopper lindsey over LILAH. also lindsey in s5 blew they should have spent the money they wasted on him and eve and adam wahtever and just paid for stephanie to be a main

Favorite Ship- cangel OTP ETERNAL

Favorite Friendship- angel/gunn is such a good dynamic that you can feeeeeel the show dropping (along with so much of their gunn-centric content bc they didn’t know how to write for him and never thought hm maybe we should hire some black writers)

Favorite Quote- it’s a cliche at this point and theres many great quotes on this show but it really does hit home- if nothing we do matters, all that matters is what we do. cause thats all there is.

Worst Character Death (if any)- freds death is vile trash garbage and they should feel like vile trash garbage for doing her like that

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment- cordelia and angel falling asleep with baby connor between them talking about how to spend a big payday........ such marrieds content..........

Saddest Moment- ‘is that it? am i done?’ idk if this would have been a SADDEST MOMENT before glenn quinn passed away but it sure hits hard now. it also hits hard when they replay it in you’re welcome right before cordelia dies

Favorite Location- the hyperion hotel is one of my favorite sets in all of television. i just wish we’d explored more of it, and that they hadn’t ditched it in favor of that new wolfram&hart set, which was honestly very very boring to me

#i answered that all really fast and didn't reread it #so like i'm sorry if its incomprehensible #if i think too hard on any of these points i would literally never be able to publish this ask #I'M REALLY BAD AT MEMES #lexmurphy #meme

6 notes · View notes

acrazyobsession · 5 years

Text

“Framed for Murder” Episode Analysis

We had “Blood at Wheel” where Jack realizes how much he cares for Phryne. Not being able to face the idea of one of her reckless stunts taking her away from him, he steps away to save himself. Phryne realizes just how much a part of her life Jack has become, and the idea of them not working togetherーnot having after-case drinks together crushes her. Then we had “The Blood of Juana the Mad” where they have to work their first case together (thanks to Mac), yet not really together. At one point, Jack says, “I need you to go. Please, go home.” It was all very heart-wrenching. However, Jack can’t deny how well they work together and does come to realize that being away from her is more painful than the possibility of losing her. So he willingly decides to follow her lead: “I’ll try to stay in step.” And Phryne of course is happy to have him back in her parlourーand in her life.

So, now we are at “Framed for Murder” - their first case officially back together. How easily are they going to be able to get back in step with each other? Did their estrangement have a negative effect on their case-solving abilities?

I think they have fewer interactions than usual; however, the times we see them together are GOLD. They seem to have not missed a beatーwith their banter or their partnership. If anything, I noticed more support for each other. They seem VERY happy to be working together again and are having fun. Though there are a few things that I would like to just ignore happen altogether in this episode.

It is also available on AO3

The faith and trust that Phryne has in Jack just warms my heart. Her friend Raymond calls, freaking out about a dead body in the studio, and she immediately calls Jack. Though I am confused...did she call Jack directly? Because he didn’t seem to know she was part of this. Maybe she just called the station, which would be weird because she usually calls and talks with him (most recently “Dead Man’s Chest”). I am not surprised that she called him, this isn’t just a case of a missing person, there is a dead body.

Then there is the fact the Phryne seems to be looking for Jack as she walks through the studio with Raymond. I didn’t notice it the first time I watched the episode, or probably even the second or third time, but as I was rewatching it for this analysis, I noticed it. Of course, she could just be looking around at the studio, but my shipper heart says that she knows he is there somewhere and wants to see him.

J: Miss Fisher. P: Hello, Jack. J: For once, it seems entirely appropriate that you should turn up. P: Well, of course. I'm the one who telephoned for you after Raymond alerted me to the situation.

I don’t know if I will ever get over how she says, “Hello, Jack.” The way his name comes from deep in her throat--Essie’s voice is always amazing. I need a compilation video of all the times she says his name!

Anyway, Raymond is unsure of Jack. He apparently just wanted Phryne’s detective skills, not wanting to bring a lot of attention to the studio. But she reassures him, “Don't worry about the Inspector. He's very discreet, Raymond.” This both gives Jack a compliment and shows her trust in him. She is very glad to be on good terms with him again. And when Raymond refers to Phryne as a “detective,” Jack doesn’t roll his eyes or even look vexed! Without missing a beat, he allows her access, “Well, I'd be interested to hear your opinion, Miss Fisher, as a fellow detective, since I have no doubt you'll make your opinions known as some point.” And why wouldn’t he? He had just experienced what it was like to not have her work a case with him, and he found he didn’t like it. Before this point he reluctantly let her join, but now it is more deliberate. They have crossed a bridge and have decided to do this dance together. She called him immediately instead of waiting until she gets into trouble, and he immediately welcomes her into the case. A little compromise on both their parts perhaps?

They do seem to be on the same page during this case - in agreement.

After Phryne has given her opinion on the evidence she sees, Hugh states, “That's exactly what the inspector thinks.” Then, when Jack is questioning Raymond on where he was the previous evening, Raymond tries to get Phryne on his side, “You think I murdered him? I had to get my assistant to kill a spider the other day! Phryne, tell him.” I love how she glances at Jack for a second and you think she is going to back Raymond up, but then she turns to her friend, “It's a fair question.” Granted, she does stand up for Raymond later, but at that point, Jack is thinking of Raymond much more seriously as a suspect, and she just doesn’t believe he could have done it. But here, Jack is just trying to do his job and get everyone’s whereabouts. And Jack’s face!

And then a little bit later, Phryne is talking with Lily Luscome and Jack shows up.

J: We seem to have come to the same conclusion. P: I knew you'd catch up.

They do know each other pretty well. The way they talked with Raymond and the cast/crew together, and then go their separate ways to do what they do best (Jack with Clara, and Phryne with Raymond to explore the dressing room), and then both arrive back at Lily…her party she takes Clara into the kitchen...And then at the end, while talking with Clara, they come to conclusion and Jack says, “I'll go to Raymond's, pick up Jefferson. You go to the studio.” He doesn’t even take a second to try and figure out how to get both Lily and Jefferson, he is actively involving her and it just made me so happy. He could have gotten a constable to do it, but he knows she can do the job.

Let’s back up a little. It is really nice to meet one of Phryne’s childhood friends, and to see that he too was able to pull himself out of poverty and Collingwood and make something of himself. Plus we get this gem:

P: You always were a scaredy-cat! R: What, because I wouldn't throw firecrackers at the police? That was just a bit of fun! Your sort of fun always led to trouble. P: Still does.

Also, before we move on, can we talk about the LOOK between Jack and Phryne when Lily says “The man was an octopus, but I wasn't about to kill him for trying to cop a feel.” These two just kill me!

Let’s carry on...I don’t particularly care for the way that Jack almost flirts with Clara. There is definitely a twinkle in his eye. I think I am going to go with the idea that he isn’t so much flirting as he is just so freaking happy that he can’t help but have a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. Because Clara isn’t flirting allーI think she keeps the same expression through the whole scene. Besides she has a thing for Raymond. But I like that he doesn’t make fun of her or disregard her when she says she has a photographic memory.

On the other hand though, we have Phryne. Who is raking her eyes over the bare chested guy who pulls out chairs for her and Dot. Her obvious thirst seems hard to miss, but maybe I just didn’t pay attention the first 4 times I saw this episode, or maybe I just blocked it out, because I don’t remember seeing that look on her face. It looks like she just wants to eat him up right there.

I probably would have been fine with that piece, because it’s Phryne, except, I am guessing he is the one she sleeps with at the end. Let’s jump ahead to that bit, because I have some things to say to TPTB. [This is where it gets a bit ranty] I just feel like this season was building to something. Season 1 ends, Jack has gotten a divorce, leaving him available. Phryne really steps up her flirting game with that Roman soldier costume, and he looks almost ready to dive right in. “Murder Most Scandalous” hits a little close to home for Jack, with his former father-in-law as the prime suspect in a murder investigation, so we will give them that episode, and “Death Comes Knocking” there is Warwick.

But, starting with “Dead Man’s Chest” we start to see a change. She calls him in need of a numismatist and then again because she needs someone more competent. He comes to her aid, and they have their date under the pier. Then comes “Deadweight” (granted she brought the Greek home with her, but that didn’t pan out) where they go on a roller coaster date, followed by “Murder a la Mode” and her “lethal dress” (Jack’s words), leading up to that moment in “Marked for Murder” at the footy match when he puts his scarf around her neck and they just stare at each other as the confetti falls around them. I die everytime I see it. I swear that is the moment when she realizes that her feelings are a little more than friendship. She isn’t comfortable with them or ready to act on them yet, but she feels it. Then, we go through a bit of a rough patch with “Blood at the Wheel” and “Juana the Mad,” but they figure it out!

With the way they act together in “Framed for Murder,” it does seem like Phryne’s experience of losing Jack might have pushed her to think about her feelings for him. Now, I didn’t expect her to jump into a relationship with him, or even for us to see a lot of development in that area in this episode; however, I feel we kind of took a step backward. Phryne, you could have just ogled him. You didn’t have to sleep with him. My shipper heart hurts.

Rant Over...shall we continue?

I love Phryne’s response when someone asks Jack why she is there, and she butts in, “I am bankrolling a substantial portion of your salary, so I could advise you to answer the inspector's questions!” I just love how she doesn’t dive in with her own questions (I do love though when Jack sits back sometimes and just gives her the reigns), she again lets Jack do his jobーwhat she called him there to do.

When they meet Raymond’s house guest, we see normal Phryne levels of flirtation with Jefferson as she shakes his hand. I do love the little look Jack gives her, though. He seems amused, like he has missed this.

Phryne decides that she should take the place of the now deceased director. Raymond must have determined that Jack was a good chap, because he gets his opinion on Phryne’s idea:

R: “You always did have a knack for bossing people around, don't you agree, Inspector?” J: “Yes, I believe director would be the perfect role for you, Miss Fisher.” Jack is very playful, and easily goes along with Raymond’s teasing. However, back in “Blood at the Wheel,” there was an exchange that went very differently: P: I seem to be able to handle my Hispano-Suiza without any trouble. Don't I, Inspector? J: I doubt a police officer is the right person to ask.

Quite a different tone in Jack’s response there. Overall, in this episode, it just seems like they are having a good time. Enjoying the fact that they have gotten back to this point. However, Jack does get a bit frustrated with both Phryne and Raymond as he doesn’t let her in on the interview. And another bit that I seemed to have missed the first couple go-rounds, was this line:

J: Clearly he was more afraid of you.

Phryne didn’t think it was funny, and walked out of the station, but I did! And Nathan Page’s dead pan delivery was perfect.

I was disappointed that Jack wasn’t invited to the party, but he probably had his hands full with the case. So, again, she was getting information her way and he was doing his part. And at least he shows up (even if it is to question Raymond), and we see that wonderful “how to remove one’s coat without letting go of one’s hat” piece. If you haven’t seen the pic play-by-play by @izzyandlouie seriously check it out.

Can I just interject this gem as well:

R: You can operate a camera, can't you? [You could hear a pin drop it’s so quiet, and it takes her a beat to respond] P: Of course! Blindfolded, in the dark.

Phryne Fisher may not like it to be known that she doesn’t know how to do something, but if she doesn’t know something, she is going to go figure it out! And doesn’t she look absolutely gorgeous in that scene where she catches Jefferson in Raymond’s office!

Then we have the end scene...our favorite couple having a drink in the parlour...things are back to the way we like them.

J: And what were your girlhood dreams Miss Fisher? P: I’m living them Inspector.

I haven’t spent too much time thinking about what exactly Phryne means by her response to Jack’s question. But I guess I would like to think that as a child she had a lot of dreams, and now as an adult with resources, she is able to do them all. Maybe she has a checklist, and she is slowly getting to check them all off.

Credit: screencaps | gifs by me | transcript

#mfmm #mfmm review #mfmm analysis #framed for murder #episode analysis #phrack

4 notes · View notes