#* frankie mallory *

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Grace and Frankie

Sample Size: 462 stories

Source: AO3

[eddyneedssleep]

Here's a sketch I did of Mallory Scheidel's Frankie Stein cosplay a few weeks back. I was gonna digitally color it but I started it and then immediately didn't want to.

[pepimeinrad]

so I started watching Grace and Frankie on Monday and... why the HELL is this show giving me people (and dogs) called Mallory and Josiah and Leo within just the first 7 episodes??!?!?

[torturcdmuse]

Name: Frankie Mallory Occupation: Artist, Bartender, Bloodbag Age: 27 Sexuality: Queer Species: Human Clan/Pack/Coven: N/A Hometown: Long Island,New York Relationship Status: single Personality Traits: Nihilist, self destructive, witty, expressive, distrustful,

Cw: implied child abuse, foster care, death via car crash, chronic illness and medicalization, America’s fucked up medical system, general abuse and cohersion, intoxication and addiction. 

Td;lr Frankie was abandoned in childhood, abandoned as a teenager, used and abandoned as a young adult and had her voice stolen, used and caged as a painter and finally chose to be the one to leave a terrible situation.  And somehow she has managed to land herself in Port Liery. She has very self destructive tendencies, chronic illness and a nihilist view that if it can go wrong for her it will. She will always say what is on her mind, unless she is hustling and trying to get just a moment of  security. She works at Anemoia as a bartender and bloodbag.  

Francesca Mallory was abandoned before her third birthday, unwanted she ws left at a fire station with no note, no explanation, just a thin red sweater and a dirty pair of pajamas. The station was a known safe surrender location, though usually the children were infants still. The firestation wasn’t sure what to do with the small wide eyed child, and she was promptly placed in the foster system where she bounced around staying in group homes or the occasional solo placement. Her childhood was not a pleasant one, the vetting process for foster parents not nearly as in depth as it needed to be and she was forced to endure the horrors that entailed.  

At fourteen though she was placed in a steady home with parents who on her 15th birthday told her that they were looking into the formal adoption process. She thought she had made it, she had happiness and safety, and they bought her art supplies and a guitar. But shortly after she started to get sick, a host of symptoms the doctors couldn’t pin down and treatments that started in the thousands. Her foster father worked as a trucker, and to try and pay for her treatments he picked up extra shifts and took on longer and longer hauls until one night he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his rig. Francesca’s foster mother blamed her for his death and kicked her out, sending her back to a group home. She wasn’t willing to go back into that particular torture and decided to take her chances on her own. 

She started hustling, busking and singing on the streets, and painting when she could afford canvas. She got state health insurance, and managed to make payments of most of her treatments, but it still wasn’t enough so she got a fake ID, started lying and dancing in clubs that either didn’t notice the fake ID or didn’t care. She managed to have some semblance of stability by the time she was 19, when the other shoe dropped again. She needed a transplant, and her state insurance would pay for the procedure but not the lifetime of anti rejection meds she would have to take so she pushed it off as much as she could scrambling to try and find a better solution.

It was not a good or particularly safe period in her life. So when a man came along with a record deal and a signing bonus that would not only pay for a deposit on an apartment that had a security guard and a lock at the lobby and at her front door, but also at least five years of the medication she needed if she played her cards right she jumped at the prospect. She should have read the contract closer, and she didn’t tell the team that she was sick too worried they wouldn’t give her the payout. She was used to hustling, but as she was thrown into a world where she had to obey every wish and demand of the music executives she slowly began to sink, barely able to keep her head above water. 16 hour rehearsal days, after parties to impress investors and never a moment to herself Frankie started missing treatments, she wasn’t getting sleep and she was encouraged to always have a drink in her hand. 

What was once going to be a planned, controlled and avoided if possible transplant became an emergency after Frankie collapsed during a live performance She woke up days later in a hospital room with one of the labels lawyers who promptly handed her a notification that she had been dumped from the label due to breach of contract. Her hospital stay would be paid for, they weren’t heartless they claimed, but after that she was on her own again. They also retained the rights to everything she had written and performed, and those same lawyers did everything to make sure she did not see any of the profits, citing that breach of contract and that she hadn’t disclosed vital information before their investment. 

Frankie didn’t have the time or money to fight it, or to wallow in the loss. Her brief stint of popstar money meant that she made too much money to get her insurance back, so the hustle started anew. She forgot singing, too scared the lawyers would come after her again and heartbroken over everything she had lost. She had poured her soul into her writing and now she didn’t have that. She pivoted to her other love in art, painting. She set up her own pop up galleries on the street until a local gallery found her work and let her sell her paintings in the back corner and stay in the empty loft above. She gained a small cult following with her paintings, their place in the back corner away from the front glass perfect for the risque material that focused on indulgence and pleasure. When a man in a suit started coming around more often she should have learned, should have questioned, but when he started bringing her out to dinner and buying her expensive brushes and canvases taller than she was she was so eager to get out of her circumstances that she didn’t question. And when he got her an interview at Pratt and paid for her admission, and her tuition when she got in she thought this was it. This was how she got out and how she found her stability. Once she was there, studying art and in an environment where she could paint but also take time to rest, and finding a way to express her passion the Suit began to sink his claws in. It became apparent that he was not satisfied with just being a patron, but he wanted Frankie as well. He would bring her to dinners, grip her wrist too tight, tell her who she could talk to and what she could wear. She was his little artist and she was expected to follow his rules, the rough around the edges hustler he had discovered, as he so often loved to say, was expected to show up and play the perfect little pawn. He loved to embarrass her, degrade her in front of his friends and ply her with whatever vice she may choose to try and numb that embarrassment only to rub that in her face as well. 

It came to a head at her graduation when he declared now she would be his little live in artist and pet, and Frankie felt his iron fist of control settle around her neck. She lasted one month, a month where she was rarely sober and painted nothing unless he was there watching her, forcing her. It was one of the nurses at her infusion center that gave her the reality check she needed to get out. She had managed to keep the most of her illness from the suit, telling him she was going to a spa or a nail appointment any time she needed an infusion or a check up. She helped her buy a train ticket, and three different plane tickets, and when she came back for her next “nail appointment” she hopped on a train and headed west, not sure where she was going but determined to make a change. 

Her time in Port Liery has been… bumpy. She landed herself what she thought was a simple bartending gig, and instead was introduced to a whole world she never knew existed. She still paints, and if you are lucky you might catch her singing when she thinks she isn’t being watched or is too high to care. And she has found that working as a blood bag is the easiest, and most pleasurable way by far, to make the money she needs to pay for her treatments. She loves the supernatural world, and is happy with her place in it, though she would be lying if she didn’t hear the siren call of the opportunity to join it. 

[mywilliingheart]

Do any of your parent muses ever doubt how well they're doing as parents?

Short answer: yes. All of them. All the time. Mostly in relation to their work/life balance but also in terms of not wanting to inadvertently screw their kids up.

Long answer: how much time do you have?

[yourfrankiethings]

Mallory Gabsi, Paris, 11/28/23

exterior – 28 Rue des Acacias, 75017 Paris, France Mallory Gabsi was the restaurant of a semi-finalist in French TV’s Top Chef 2020, Belgian Chef Mallory Gabsi.  The very small place was furnished with small marble top tables, stuffed chairs, with music in the background, lots of beautiful light polished wood and mirrors on the wall to make it bigger.  The entry room had 2 larger communal dining…

[favroitecrime]

watching grace and frankie is so challenging sometimes because how are you nearing your 80’s and still acting like children😭 why do your children behave better😭 GROW UP

[macfrog]

backspin | bbf!frankie

surprise! we're taking a quick detour to fuck around with our brother's best friend again. what else is new.

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x fem!reader summary: you try to get even with frankie. it works. warnings: reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, enemies to lovers, mention of throwing up, alcohol consumption, cursing, oral, more dickhead frankie and more sassy reader word count: 6.3k

part one: rack 'em | main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💙

So, you fucked around with Frankie.

It’s no big deal, right? It was just a one-time thing. There was tension, you guys relieved it. Scratched an itch. Served a purpose. You still fucking hate the guy, and he still fucking hates you.

Nothing’s changed.

Right?

Mal sprays wine all over the kitchen table when you tell her. Gargles a, Sorry – fuck – sorry, through what little of the alcohol is left in her mouth.

You wipe your face clean in the crook of your elbow. It’s in your fucking eyelashes. You blink the room back into focus, and – “Jesus, Mal!”

Dark droplets teeter around the edge of the table, threatening to plunge straight down onto your mom’s chair cushions – thus damning you to her very own personal hell for all eternity. You can feel the flames licking at your feet already.

Your best friend rips a sheet of paper towel and drags it over the wood – white bleeding violet at the first swipe. “Why’d you tell me as I was taking a sip?”

“I didn’t think you’d fucking hose me down,” you hiss, taking the soaked crumple from her hands.

“You didn’t think I’d be a little surprised that you and Catfish Morales hooked up? Are you fucking ser–? Actually, you know what? I’m not that surprised.”

You glare at her from the sink, upper lip curled.

Mallory Bennett has been privy to your every thought since you were six years old. Hand in hand, arms swinging as you marched into first grade together.

Most days, you barely have to open your mouth – one flinching expression, one flash of eye contact, and she can parrot your own thoughts back to you.

Francisco Morales going down on you two nights ago is the first thing you’ve ever had to confess to her. It’s the first thing she never saw coming.

“Shut up,” you breathe, eventually thawing and sweeping over to your chair. The table sticks to your arms when you sit back down.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, alright? A lot of tension. I mean, you gotta fuckin’ feel it. You two hate each other’s guts! And you’re both single, and you’re only here for two weeks. And – he’s Santi’s best friend. It’s just…it’s the perfect storm.”

Another exasperated sigh passes your lips. You settle back, eyes closed, and lift your palm. “Enough. I’ve heard enough.”

“You wouldn’t’ve told me if you didn’t wanna talk about it. Was he good?”

“Mal.”

“Was he?”

“I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.” Her face screws up; the gold hoops wobble from her ears. “Like hell you don’t remember. Tell me.”

Your eyes slip from her over to Ange. The old pup pushes herself to her feet with a huff, her joints stiff and bones frail. She moseys over to your side. You scratch the back of the dog’s neck, shrugging to Mal.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way to a free round of drinks, I’d remember enough to share.”

“Fuck you,” she snorts, voice rounded by her wine glass. “Maybe that just means you gotta do it again – sober.”

You scoff.

Angie looks up at you – watery eyes blinking, tail slowly fanning.

Mal’s already recounting the time Frankie snitched on the two of you for raiding your mom’s makeup bag. She waves her hands in the air, eyes bulging.

Do it again. The thought actually makes you want to laugh.

You and Frankie – you and Catfish, hooking up again. As if the first time wasn’t a total mishap, the biggest mistake in judgement you think you’ve ever made.

He drove you home, he made you come, he left.

One nil, right? You have one up on him. You got yours, and he probably went home and jerked off to the thought of it. Alone in his room, tongue licking at the corners of his mouth where he could still taste your release.

You won.

You won, against Frankie Morales.

“…and then fuckin’ – Pope tried to help us tidy it up, remember? He was scrubbing the hell outta the lipstick on the mirror. But that asshole – Frankie,” she seethes, “he went downstairs as soon as your mom came home. As soon as she…And he fucking ratted!”

She growls, balls her fists. Screws her eyes tight shut like the enraged eight-year-old she was back then. She still has the same little crease between her brows. “What the hell got into you that night? We hate him, junior!”

Ange slumps to the floor with a sigh.

“Me too, girl,” you mutter to her, twirling the base of your glass. You look back up at the crazed woman opposite. “I don’t know,” you insist. “I was drunk, we were on our own…It just happened, alright?”

Her shoulders roll in a shrug. She lifts her glass to clink the neck of the bottle against the rim, purple wine spilling in a swirl. “Maybe it’s the start of something.”

You scoff. “Mal. Come on.”

“I’m serious. Perfect storm.”

“Nope. No storm. Stop that.”

She jabs a tipsy finger in your direction. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you messed around with your arch fucking menesis– arch fucking…with – with Frankie, and you just – still feel nothing for him?”

“No,” you admit, “I feel plenty for him. I hate his fucking guts. I used to wish every birthday that he’d disappear. One time in church, when Father Joseph told everybody to bow their heads ‘n pray, I actually asked God to kill him for me.”

“Not Father Joseph!” Mal shrieks, grinning. “He was so fucking hot, by the way, for a dude with no hair. When the sunlight caught that cueball just right…that was a real fucking miracle. Goddamn.”

You bat her snicker away. “Me and Frankie used to brawl so bad that our moms had to separate us,” you continue. “I had to sit in the front seat if we drove anywhere – and that still didn’t stop him! He’d reach around the headrest and flick my fucking ear.”

“You gave as good as you got, though. I’m surprised he can even still get hard, the number of times your foot…” She swings her leg and kicks your thigh softly. “He was an ass, I know.”

“He was an ass then, he’s still an ass now. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay,” Mal concedes. Her dark, glossy hair surfs around the lip of her wine glass when she leans in. “But you wouldn’t’ve told me unless it was still on your mind. ‘s all I’m saying.”

You throw yourself back with a quick, angry shake of your head. Your tongue flicks over your top lip.

“All I’m saying,” she repeats, holding her hands up.

But I won, you think – in a petulant little whine. Like you could shake your fists and stamp your feet at the same time. You got one up on him. He – he made you…

He made you come. He saw you. Felt you. Tasted you.

He knows what you sound like, whimpering his fucking name. Drunk on him, begging him not to stop. And now, the image of him fisting his cock over the memory of it feels less like a victory, and more like –

Another fucking loss.

You have no idea what he looks like, coming undone. No clue what his fragmented moans sound like as they tear from the bottom of his throat and rain down over you. You don’t know the weight of him in your hands, the wet slip of his tip as he leaks over your tongue.

Mal’s onto something new. Taken by a Facebook post from some girl you went to high school with. Biggest head I ever saw on a fucking baby, she mutters, wincing and then sprinkling a handful of salted peanuts on her tongue.

Frankie’s cocky smirk clouds over the sight of her at the opposite end of your kitchen table.

Francisco fucking Morales. The asshole wins again.

All at once, you hear his rotten little jeers in your ear – curbed painfully by his middle finger searing across your lobe. You feel his heavy palm on your skull, fingers scrunching roughly into your scalp.

A temper boils between your ears, heavy over your head. It feels juvenile, as if it’s armed with a Barbie in one fist and a juice box in the other. Sunken and wallowing in shame and rage, red-hot waves which wash over you as Mal cackles at some video on her phone.

You feel Frankie’s hands around your legs; the flicks of his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. The swarm of butterflies deep in your belly as you watched his figure swagger back across the street to his truck.

Loss after loss after loss. Each one wearing a satisfied smirk and a Standard Oil baseball cap.

Each one staining deeper than red wine in varnished oak.

You grit your teeth.

Frankie –

fucking –

Morales.

Santi floats the idea of a barbecue. Because of course he fucking does.

He says his place is too small, too many neighbors in earshot – and as long as Ms. Teller takes both hearing aids out, she won’t even know it’s happening.

“Just the guys ‘n us,” he chirps. “You, me, Will, Benny…Fran-kie…?”

You gag down the line. Body instinct whenever his name is mentioned, worsened by the latest developments in your relations. Ange glances up from her spot beneath the oak tree – her milky fur stark against the velvet green grass.

Santi chokes on a laugh. “Mal, too, if that helps with the Catfish thing.”

You lean the phone on your collarbone, sitting forward to apply a second coat of polish to your toes. The red gloss shines in the early morning light. “He is not welcome in my house.”

“First off: not your house. Second –”

“My house for the next eleven days.”

He says your name flatly. It sounds like a door being slammed. It shuts you up as though you’re nine again. “…Second: he won’t be in the house. He’ll be in the backyard.”

“You owe me,” you protest. “For ditching me the other night. I’m cashing in, Santiago. You want a cookout? No Frankie.”

Your brother sighs. “And how am I supposed to explain that to him, hermana?”

“Don’t,” you tell him. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Santi mutters something incoherent, though you know from the razor-sharp tone of voice that it’s no compliment. Still – he’s a man of his word.

Eventually he agrees: no Frankie at the barbecue.

The store is chilly, plucking goosebumps along your arms.

You round the aisles, scanning your list. You’ve been battling with a janky front wheel which has squealed and veered off-course at every fucking turn. It almost mowed over an elderly woman in the meat aisle.

You’ve cleared most of what Santi told you to get. Drinks, ice, buns, meat, corn on the cob. He wanted to use Mom’s dinner plates – but that, you countered, runs the risk of them being scraped, chipped, or worst of all, smashed.

That’s not a risk you’re willing to take. So you’ve piled in some paper plates and plastic cutlery, too – just to be on the safe side.

The cashier cuts a familiar figure at the checkout: her navy apron and full-cheek grin. She’s a staple sight from your childhood – a pair of dimples and sweet giggle trailing after you as you’d follow your mom’s skirt back out to the parking lot.

Her eyes widen and she clasps her hands when she notices you approaching. “Well, would you look who it is?” she sings.

“Hey, Pol,” you say, fanning yourself with your scrawled shopping list. “How you doing?”

The belt jolts your supplies closer to her bejeweled fingers.

“Same as always, honey. Rockin’ and rollin’. What brings you back to town?”

“Housesitting, dog-sitting…Santi-sitting. Mom and Dad are on a cruise.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says, nodding. “She told me last week. Caribbean, right?”

You nod, sucking a deep, unenthused breath in.

Pol hums, smiling to herself as she clicks the barcode for your hotdogs into her computer. She begins telling you what her granddaughter thinks of second grade – her two times table and the tadpoles they’re keeping in class.

Your eyes sweep around the store as she chats. Everything looks the way it always did, a time capsule from the nineties. Speckled floor and fluorescent lights; placards hanging overhead which sway each time the great glass doors pull open.

Baskets of fruit and veg lined alongside a lawn set on offer. Beside that, heaps of flowers and stacked planters. Beside those, a discarded shopping cart. And beside that –

Frankie fucking Morales.

Well – the silhouette of him. It’s pretty bright outside. But you’d recognize the outline of that dumb baseball cap anywhere. He’s talking to one of the assistants.

You hand Pol the cash Santiago gave you, and she trades it for a receipt. Dumping your bags back into your cart, you nod to her in thanks and stalk off towards the sliding doors.

Frankie tosses and twirls a pack of cigarettes in his hand. The assistant is telling him about some big college football game.

Your grip tightens on the janky-wheeled cart. You feel your skin begin to heat; prickling all over your arms, flushing down between your shoulder blades. Gathering somewhere south of there.

But you walk by him with purpose, choosing to ignore that warm feeling. Choosing to ignore…him.

He doesn’t turn. Thankfully.

The doors grant you exit and you give your cart one good shove across the threshold, back out into blinding daylight and sticky heat.

“Alright, man,” Frankie’s voice calls from behind. “Good talkin’ to ya.”

You nail your eye on the car. It’s, like, fifteen paces. You can make it fifteen steps without having to deal with him, right? If you take longer strides, it’s probably more like ten.

Ten steps, and then you’re in the sanctuary of your car. You don’t have to see, speak to, or deal with him.

So why are you slowing down?

You’re slowing down. You are. You’re borderline fucking loitering. Quietly hoping he’ll notice, catch up, maybe talk to –

You click the unlock button. The car beeps in response.

Five steps out. The front wheel is rattling. You’re doing your best to ignore it.

Four.

Three.

The wheel spins, flitting like a confused compass needle, and stops dead in the opposite direction. The cart hurtles out of your grip for less than a second before you recover it and haul it close to your car, cursing under your breath.

But a force – stronger, steadier – reaches around your body and takes hold of the thing. It guides it back to course. A force which, when it speaks, sounds a shit ton like –

“Woah, lil Santi,” Frankie mutters, and your chest leaps.

You freeze in your tracks. His weight is still around your back. He’s right fucking there, when you turn to look.

The brim of his cap bumps against your head. He steps back with a smirk on his face. He’s so fucking smug, you could slap him. “You tryna cause a goddamn accident with that thing?”

You pull a disingenuous smile. “Hey, Fish. Ever tried minding your own business?”

He feigns a wounded sound and clutches his chest. “Ouch. I’m just looking out for ya.”

“Feels more like you’re pestering me.” You pull on the door handle and slot the first bag along the backseat.

Frankie lifts his chin, peering in at the contents. The star-spangled plated, the dripping bags of ice. “Having a party?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You yank the bag from his sight, spinning to push it alongside the others. “Nope.”

He crosses his arms. “Sure looks like you’re having one.”

“Well, I’m not.” You slam the door and turn back to him, staring blankly.

“Forgot,” he sniffs, “you need friends to have a party.”

“Hilarious. Those shit jokes how you make all your friends?”

He nods, impressed. Pouts his lips like an annoying little fish. Suits his stupid fucking nickname. “Then why’d Benny call ‘n ask if I’ll be at Pope’s parents’ tonight?”

Shit. Fucking – Benny.

You sigh, eyes rolling closed. Your fingers massage your temples. “It’s not…it’s…”

“Cookout, right? Yeah. That stings, baby. No call, no text. You owe me, remember?”

“I owe you jack sh–”

“Two drinks,” Frankie clips, holding a finger up to shush you. “Three, if you count saving your car from one hell of a scratch.”

“Fuck off,” you breathe, and then give voice to, “It’s a small gathering of friends, and – now you, apparently.”

He sways forward, bumping the cart into your hip. “You need me to bring anything?”

You heave it straight back at him, hopefully hard enough to bruise. “Tranquilizer gun, if you’ve got one.”

“Can get something even stronger, if it’s a party you’re after.”

Your eyes thin. “Wouldn’t be my mom’s favorite for much longer if she found out you were doing coke in her backyard.”

Frankie smiles. That trademark Catfish grin. “I’ve done worse in her kitchen, baby.”

He’s so goddamn cocky. So full of it, it makes you want to scream. He studies you, eyes shadowed by his cap. His hair flicks out around his ears, dark curls doused in golden sunlight.

When your eyes trace the shape of his jaw, the wiry hair above his top lip – the faint flicker of a memory glows across your skin.

The weight of his hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. The bristling feeling ghosting the inside of your thighs. Your desperate wet, his tongue covering ground across your body like claiming territory.

Every shade of wrong. Ignoring every atom in your body – betraying every version of yourself for ten minutes of euphoria. He brought every numb nerve under your skin to attention, the second he knelt between your knees.

But he’s looking at you now, the same way he did the other night. It’s boyish and dangerous. A naked match just waiting to fall.

Maybe you’re waiting for an excuse to drop it.

Frankie gives his cap a quick tug, and makes off for his truck.

“See you at seven, Garcia.”

Daylight melts into dusk and with it, goes the sharp sting of summer. A pale blue rolls across the horizon, covering the yard in a hazy sort of chill. A relieving breeze, like satin over newly burned skin.

You’re still fucking sweating.

“Are you going to help me, or you just gonna lie there and text your girlfriend?” you call across the yard.

The dark figure spilling over the edge of the hammock grunts in response.

“Santi.”

Your brother groans, rolling free from the marigold fabric. He strides across the lawn, swinging an arm down to ruffle Ange’s ears. “Not a girlfriend,” he says, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “She’s…she’s more of a…”

You lift your hand. “Not something I need to know.”

He laughs and looks at the spread on the table. He lifts the corner of a tricolor napkin, straightens a plastic fork. The foil over the hamburger buns crinkles. “We did a good job. Looks great.”

“We?” You scoff, slapping his wrist away. “Yeah, me and the fucking dog, more like.”

“How much did it all come to? The food and shit?”

You shrug. “Like, forty dollars. I don’t know.”

“Gave you sixty. Where’s my change?”

You frown, hands on your hips. “If you don’t know how to budget properly, that’s not my problem.”

“And if you don’t know when to just lie and say you spent it all, that’s not mine. Twenty bucks, kid.” He holds his hand out, fingers beckoning.

The squeal of the gate interrupts, followed by a barrage of voices. Will and Benny and Mal and – as you lean back to watch them parade through the yard, you spot the figure of Frankie at their heels.

“Pope?” Will calls. “Pope, do me a favor. Remind me which one of us threw up at Busch Gardens that one time. Remember – right after we rode Gwazi?”

Santiago chuckles. “I remember Mallory wearing her raspberry slushie.”

Will guffaws in Mal’s face.

“I spit up!” she protests. “I spit up in a flowerbed. I was not wearing my slushie.”

“You were fluorescent pink the whole day,” Will says. He slings an arm around your shoulders. “You remember, lil Santi?”

You frown. Yeah, you fucking remember.

You remember being forced to sit between Frankie and Mal the entire way home. Santiago got dibs on the front seat by pretending he was carsick, and Mal had to sit by an open window so she didn’t stink your dad’s car out with all her raspberry-flavored puke.

You and Frankie bickered the whole journey. Both absolutely certain that the other was leaning too far over your seats. Your dad vowed he’d never let you both in his car at the same time, ever again.

“Mhm,” you grit, shooting daggers at your best friend.

She mouths a Sorry, and then places her salad bowl in the middle of the table. “Enough about throwing up. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

The boys spend twenty minutes arguing over how the barbecue works, before a single bit of food is cooked. You and Mal watch from the table, sneaking Ange slices of cheese and giggling when Will and Benny break into their fifth argument of the night.

Santi and Frankie take charge, shoving the brothers out of the way.

Pope passes over the meat, while Frankie mans the grill. He lifts his cap and wipes his brow with his bicep, giving his head a shake as he flips burgers and turns sausages.

And no, you’re not watching him. You’re focused on Mal and her story about some guy from work. Or – it might be a guy from her yoga class. The instructor, maybe? You’re not sure. Frankie just flapped the collar of his shirt and the hem lifted, exposing a sliver of his tummy.

You’re not watching him, though.

He runs his tongue along his top lip, focusing on the sizzle and spatter of the grill. His arm tenses, turning the tongs over and over. Wide shoulders stretch when he reaches for a plate.

He’s laughing quietly at whatever Santi’s babbling about at his side. His eyes are stuck on the barbecue in front of him. His fingers twirl around the tongs again. He never looked so lean and so broad and so fucking different, all at once.

Weird different. Good different?

You feel your cheeks flush with heat. This time, it’s not so much anger, as it is –

Oh, shit.

Mal gets up for a refill at the same time Santiago jogs inside to grab more meat. You and Frankie are alone on the patio – Will and Benny are kicking a ball for Ange to chase on the grass.

Morales turns, and you instantly stare down at your beer. You take a forceful swig as he approaches.

“Hotdog?” he asks, holding a plate down to you.

“Huh?”

He glares at you and scoffs. “Are you dumb? Hotdog.” He slips it onto the table in front of you.

You squint at the grill marks, and then squint up at Frankie. Puzzled and…offended, at the same time. You come back to your body with a jolt. “Why the hell are you–? Have you laced it with something?”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, tongue between his teeth. “No, I haven’t fucking laced it with anything. I just figured you should have the first one, since you put all this on for us. But – Jesus, give me it.”

Your fingers lock around the paper plate when he tries to steal it back. For all that he’s a dick and might actually try to poison you – you’re fucking starving.

You figure you can stomach the poison.

Frankie sighs. He lets go. “I’m tryna be nice, alright? You know nice?”

“I know nice. You’re not it.”

“Shut up and eat your hotdog, lil Santi.”

You mimic him in a squeak as he strolls off, shaking his head. Still, the second he’s back at the grill, you rip into the hotdog.

Frankie stays at the opposite end of the table for the entire meal – closest seat to the barbecue, and furthest seat from you. There’s too much chatter, too much hilarity being thrown back and forth between you for either of you to kick up a row.

Probably better for the guys’ sakes, but – you want to fucking row.

It’s like a hit, now. A rush of electricity, any time Frankie looks at you for longer than it takes his face to twist into a grimace. You’re hunting for ways to ignite something – anything. Looking for an excuse to drop that naked match and set the whole thing alight.

Because it’s fun, when you’re in the heat of it. Feeling his eyes on you, as hot and angry as flames. Being suffocated by the smoke of it all; breathing in less and less air and more…him.

And, anyway – who knows you better than the one person who pisses you off the most?

As the sun is snuffed by the heavy hand of dusk, you disappear to a quieter corner of the yard. Tucked between two thick beech trees, you throw yourself into the hammock – one leg draped over the side, swinging idly through the night air.

A beer bottle balanced on your tummy, the round base seeping a chilled ring into your shirt. The swish of leaves overhead and the annoying midges at your ears for company.

That is – until the sound of footsteps over crisp grass, and the creak of an old, splintered garden chair disturb your peace.

Frankie adjusts his cap, flatting his fringe beneath it, and sits back. “You never change, do you, Garcia? Still the same little longer you always were.”

You hold your hands out, gulping back beer – and glee. “Can I fucking help you? I’m minding my own business.”

“Thought you might want some company.”

“Not yours, dickhead. You think I’m way the hell over here ‘cause I wanted you to come annoy me?”

He hums, picking at a flake of paint on the armrest. “Sure wanted me to annoy you the other night.”

“Alright,” you clip. “Cheap shot. You been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Since I saw you at the store.”

You roll your eyes.

Frankie slips a cigarette from its pack and lights it, tipping his chin to blow a white cloud to the sky. “You’re too much fun,” he tells the stars.

You squint through the dark, staring at the glowing cherry. “What?”

“You. You get so pissed, so easily. Always have.”

“Well, you antagonize me. Always have.”

His cheeks lift. It’s something softer than a smirk, still laced with too much attitude to be a smile. “That’s ‘cause you were always around. Everywhere Santi went, there you were. Closer than his shadow.”

“Well,” you glower, “’s what happens when you have a big brother. You’re void of love; I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“No, I get it,” he says. “It just got fun to mess with you, after a while.”

“Uhuh,” you take another swig, “so is that what you’re doing? Messing with me?”

Frankie’s shoulders jump. “You tell me. There were two of us in your room that night.”

You swing your legs down to the grass. It’s brittle under your socks when you stand, still focusing on the end of his cigarette. “Damn, you really can’t shut up about it, can you? How many times have you tugged one to the thought of it?”

“Tugged one,” he snickers, but he seems nervous – watching as you approach. “What age are you?”

You push his knees wider, slotting between his thighs. “Which part does it for you? What sends you over the edge?”

“Come on, lil Santi,” Frankie says, averting his eye. “You’re embarrassing yourself now.”

One knee up, resting on the crease of his jeans. You lean forward and nudge his hip, lay your hands gently on his shoulders. “I bet you still hear me in your dreams.”

He scans up and down your body, lingering on your bare thigh. “Not – not gonna work, kid,” he promises, shaking his head. “You still annoy the fuck outta me.”

“Right, right.” You pinch the pale stick from between his teeth. “’cause nothing’s changed, yeah?”

His head sways in agreement. He’s distracted, watching as you lift your hand to your mouth.

You smile down at him. “’cept you know how I taste now, so.”

You slot the damp end of the cigarette between your lips and suck. Sharp, acrid heat sails over your tongue and down your throat, filling your chest in one inhale. You cough a little, batting the smoke as you blow it out.

“Tastes fucking disgusting,” you croak. “How can you smoke these?”

Frankie’s eyes never leave your lips. “You get used to it.”

You take another draw, letting the smoke soar through the space between you. “Gross,” you say, and prop the cig back between his lips. “Just like you!”

“Sh…shut up,” he groans, adjusting in his seat.

“Make me.”

But he doesn’t bite. Doesn’t flinch. He just stares back, rolling the smoldering stick between his thumb and finger. Running his tongue along his teeth.

You spill the last of your beer onto your tongue, cocking an eyebrow at him, and push from his lap.

You make it no more than five steps, before that same weight from the parking lot is around your shoulders.

He pings the cigarette somewhere in the grass, and grabs onto your elbow.

“Fran– Jesus – Where are we–?”

He drags you through the dull dusk to the other side of the lawn, ignoring the click of the motion sensor. You’re thrown through a wooden door onto cold concrete before the yard light floods over you.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Weak slivers of moonlight illuminate each tool hanging from the wall. The fairy lights outside lose their battle against the darkness the second they creep through the window.

Before you can sling something mocking at him, Frankie has you pinned against the wall.

“You want me to make you shut up?” he growls, teeth grazing your neck. His fingers slip behind the waist of your shorts, plucking at the button. “I’ll make you shut up. Make you shut up all goddamn night.”

“Frankie,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shirt. You push on his chest, walking him backwards over to the workbench.

The thing shudders when he rocks against it.

“The fuck are you doing?” he murmurs, watching as you kneel before him.

“Getting used to it,” you reply.

You pull his belt apart, loosen the fly on his pants, and pull until they’re low on his hips.

Frankie holds onto the bench with a white-knuckle grip. He lays his hand over the crown of your head, rubbing small circles. A laugh slips across his tongue. “This what you’ve been thinkin’ about?”

You ignore him, instead focusing on the solid shape in his underwear.

His hips flinch when you drag your palm along it. He’s hard already. He hisses at your cold fingers on his stomach, tensing as your knuckles skim below the elastic.

And then…he’s in your palm. All of him. Frankie fucking Morales.

You’re trying not to think too deep about it.

Your fingers wrap around him, barely meeting around his width, and you slip him from his boxers.

His cock springs free, swaying once, twice – then settling to the right.

Your mouth fills with saliva. Suddenly – there’s no way not to think too deep about it.

He’s…he’s big. He’s thick; smooth and sculpted, veins trailing around his shaft. It’s not like you ever considered what he’s walking around with before, but looking at it now – you can’t believe it’s him.

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss him all the way down to the hair at his base. A wet trail, lips curving around the size of him. You run your tongue up and down, circling the tip and toying with it.

Frankie cups your cheek. “Pretty little mouth,” he utters. “Put it to good use, huh?”

You don’t need him to ask twice.

You sink down on him. Every inch of him – every aching, choking inch. Your jaw slackens to take him; nails digging into his thighs when he bumps the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he hisses. His hand comes down on your head a little too heavily.

You yelp and pull back, gasping when he slips out. “Prick,” you breathe, closing your lips around his tip again.

“Just too sweet with it,” he murmurs, guiding himself back across your tongue.

You suckle on him, using your hands to pump the inches your mouth can’t take.

Frankie’s head tips back, panting at the roof. His hips thrust to meet your movements. “Feels so – goddamn – good,” he moans, and you hum with glee.

You take his balls in your hands, kneading them as you work your way lower. He’s so deep in your mouth that it makes your eyes water. Each slip of his tip against the back of your throat makes you gag, pulls a lewd, muffled sound from your chest.

It shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be enjoying it this much. But he’s falling apart under your fingertips, he’s unwinding right before you. He’s whispering your name, begging you not to stop. Just like that, just like that, just like that. Oh, fuck, just like that.

It’s addictive. Now that you know how he looks, how he feels, you’ll never go back to before. When the most thrill he gave you was a burning temper; feeling your pulse jump in your throat with rage.

This – whatever the fuck this is – is all you know, now. Pulling threads from one another, watching the way they unravel. Watching each other unravel. Flashes of eye contact, salt and slick and sex dripping from every secret word.

Frankie’s hips jerk. His cock spasms.

You don’t want him to come down your throat. You don’t want him to climax when he’s too deep for you to taste it.

You want him all over – your lips, your tongue, dribbling down your chin. You want to mix him with your saliva and swallow; warm, salty, Frankie.

He got his taste. Now you want yours.

You bring your hands up to his thighs, purposefully pushing back off him.

His grip loosens, and he looks down. Brows low and close, eyes blown wide like he’s higher than any drug could take him.

He’s as addicted as you are.

“My mouth,” you mumble, head of his cock circling your glistening lips. “In my mouth.”

“Yeah?” he says, and the weight of his cock slaps on your bottom lip. “That where you want it, baby?”

“Mhm.” You wrap your lips back around him.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Frankie spits, laughing. “Shit – just like that. Yeah, that’s it.”

Three, four more soaking strokes of your tongue and he’s twitching again.

You pull back only enough to rest his tip on your tongue, feeling the pulsing heat as he comes. Watching the way his face tightens, the pull of his brows as it overcomes him.

His eyes stay locked on you. Your fluttering lashes, your puffy, glossy lips. He fills your mouth and then some – semen spilling from the corners and dribbling down your jaw. And the sound he makes – this broken, scattered moan, bordering on a fucking whimper – is fucking perfect.

Frankie’s hand locks at the base of your skull, holding you steady until he’s done. His cock slips from your bottom lip. He gives one last satisfied sigh, petting your head as you stroke him slowly, tenderly – swiping kitten licks at the dripping mess of him.

“Fuck,” he moans, letting his eyes close over. His weight slumps against the workbench. “The fuck do you spend so much time yapping for when you’re that good with your mouth?”

You hum in amusement, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. He’s softening, but still a decent size. Still a weight to it that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

One last little kiss, and you tuck him back into his boxers. You drag the back of your hand across your chin.

Frankie holds his hands out, and you pull yourself up. He fixes himself into his jeans, turning away to do up his belt. He had his cock in your throat two minutes ago, and here he is pretending to be shy.

He turns back around, half disappeared to the dark shed. “I, uh…I don’t want you to think that I came here just to…just for that.”

Your tongue dabs at the inside of your cheek, all salty. “Then this is awkward, ‘cause that’s the only reason I hadn’t kicked you out yet.”

He laughs, dropping your gaze. “You…” he shakes his head, “…are such a little shit, you know that?”

It’s nicer than he would’ve worded it half an hour ago. But still – having an exchange with Frankie that doesn’t involve spitting insults or jagged glares, warms your blood in a way that’s new and…unsettling.

“We should probably…” You toss a thumb over your shoulder, eyes flitting to the string bulbs outside. “We don’t want them wondering what’s…you know.”

He nods and strides over to the door. The wood squeals against concrete as he pulls it open.

The summer swirls around you again, sweetening the stuffy heat of the shed. Mal’s voice surfs through the breeze – she’s still arguing over the Busch Gardens story.

You make to step out, and Frankie’s arm halts you.

He opens his palm. “Even,” he tells you. “We’re even.”

He seems sure of himself. Sure of you. He looks you in the eye and doesn’t blink.

You smirk. Your hand slips into his, letting him shake your fist once. You stare straight back at him.

“We’re just getting fucking started, Francisco.”

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Not a day goes by when I don’t think of this and giggle to myself for a bit hehehe

hi mallory, my love. sending you big hugs on this day. i was wondering what kind of canva creation you might make based on your fic tide 👀

that fic was so cute and fun and i still think about it at least once a day 😭💕

Han, there are very few people I'd Google "stained jeans crotch" for... you are one of the lucky few. Please know I fought myself from just... putting little dark crotch spots on all the pics of Frankie Morales I could find. (I also added the fake laundry ad I created as a gift to @luxurychristmaspudding.)

Now, everyone go listen to "No Control" by One Direction and think of baby boy Catfish cumming in his jeans.

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: So sorry this took so long! I got a little busy. But my goal is to post a chapter at least 3 times a week. :) Thanks for your patience Greenies!

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: FLUFF AND FLUFF, little angst, abuse, death, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of past abuse, explicit language, fear, pet names (I think thats everything)

WC: 5711

Chapter 7

“Explain it to me…. One. More. Time.. how you let this happen.” Alpha Lewis pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. 

Hayes and Milo exchanged glances.

“I'm waiting….” Lewis growled. 

“We decided to take her out and hunt her in the woods.” Hayes stated.

“And what the fuck compelled you to do that?” Lewis snapped, tilting his head.

“We were just having fun.” Milo said, looking at the ground.

Lewis exhaled deeply, stepping in front of Milo and slapping him across the face. Although it felt more like a punch with the sheer force of anger backing it. His lip was cut from Lewis's ring, a drop of blood beading. Lewis then turned to Hayes who tensed.

“And you thought joining him was the smart choice? Because I know damn well it was his idea.” Lewis seethed, eyes squinting.

“Well I-” Hayes was cut off by Lewis's grip on his throat.

“You’re the fucking alpha when I’m away. Do you think this reckless behavior is how an alpha should act? You don’t get your own pack like this.” Lewis lectured. “And apparently you let it happen on multiple occasions?”

He released his neck with a push as his betas Frankie and Triston came in with beta Mallory. Sighing, Lewis walked over to them and grabbed the young beta by her shirt collar. She whimpered as he snatched her and threw her to Hayes’s feet.

“Let me teach you a lesson.” Lewis pulled a gun from his back pocket, aimed, and shot twice.

She cried out, clutching her chest.

“No!” Hayes dropped to his knees, scooping her up.

“You’re mate here will die thanks to the recklessness of your brother that you allowed.” Lewis threw the gun down between Hayes and Milo before walking off.

It was then that they realized it was Milo’s BB gun.

“Oh…and if you’re wondering… yes, it was loaded with those cobalt pellets. Get rid of that damn gun and clean out the cells in the basement.” Lewis walked off.

“Mallory? Mal? Hey….look at me.” Hayes said, tears pooling in his eyes.

She looked up at him, coughing up blood as her eyes began to glaze over. “Hayes?” 

“I’m here��I'm here. I’m so sorry.” Hayes cried as she weakly raised her hand to caress his cheek.

Milo was there, head hung as the guilt ate at him. He shouldn’t have pushed his brother to break the rules. And now his brother was being punished when it should’ve been him. The guilt became anger quickly as he wanted to punish you - if you hadn’t gotten out, none of this would be happening.

“Mallory! No, come back to me!” Hayes sobbed next to him, as Mallory's eyes began to close. The cobalt was straight to her heart and spreading quickly.

Milo knelt down, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Don’t touch me!” Hayes growled.

Milo jumped back, clenching his jaw as he looked at Mallory. She went limp in his brother’s hold, Hayes pulling her close to his chest as he sobbed into her hair. They were so in love with each other that Hayes wanted to marry her. She was always telling him to wait, knowing he had a soulmate out there, but he didn’t care. She was all he wanted, swearing that she was his soulmate. She would simply shake her head and smile at him. Now he had no one.

Quietly, he stood, lifting Mallory in his arms and taking her to be buried in the yard. Milo grieved as well. He liked Mallory and hated that he got her killed. She had always been nice to him and considered him her brother. Subconsciously, he moved to follow but Hayes turned to him, eyes red with anger.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Hayes snarled.

“Hayes let me help-”

“No. This is your fault. You got her killed.” Hayes stormed off.

Milo whimpered in the loneliness of the garage. He was going to spend the rest of his life making this up to his brother.

“I need you two to go south to Okami. Check and make sure she’s not there. Frankie, you’re with Hayes. Go check with Honshu. Report back your findings. I swear they better not have crossed me.” Lewis clenched his fists at the thought. “And if they haven’t, then we will check the neighboring territories. We will find her.” 

The betas nodded, heading off towards the house of their allies. Hayes had buried Mallory nearly an hour ago, leaving flowers at her makeshift grave off the edge of their grassy yard. Eventually he would get her a proper tombstone.

While they handled that, Lewis went down to the basement to see how Milo was fairing. He opened the door, forgetting just how rank it can smell down there since usually he has people get the omegas when he requests them. But now he was going down here on his own. The piss and mildew smell was quickly joined with the rancid smell of fear and anxiety.

Milo was currently cleaning out your old cage, soapy water splashed about on the floor. He pushed the mop back and forth as Lewis approached.

Looking at the bucket of cleaning supplies, he saw a scrub brush. He picked it up, spinning it in his hands before tossing it at Milo. Milo jumped, looking at his alpha.

“Scrub. I want you on your hands and knees until this place is sparkling. I lost my favorite omega and a beta because of your stupidity.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Milo hung his head.

Lewis walked to the next cell, the female omega cowering in the corner. Her chains clanked as she scooted, pressing herself into the wall. He turned around, looking at the male omega in the cage across from her. He too was shaking, curled in the corner.

“Tell me, omegas. Does he hunt you two as well?” Lewis asked.

They both shook their heads.

“Be honest. If I catch you lying on his behalf, no food for a week.”

“Once.” the male whispered. “He said I was boring, though.”

“Interesting. Thank you.” Lewis said, turning to the stairs as he glared at Milo. “Feed them in an hour. He gets extra food. And if you lay another finger on them, you’ll be joining them.”

With that, Lewis headed back upstairs. He had work to be done, an infiltration to plan. He would get his omega back, that was for sure.

You woke up with a jolt, having just dreamed that the Nykos had found you and brought you back home. At least this time you didn’t scream and wake someone. Standing, you stretch and look around your room. Sure it was nice and comfy, but it still felt foreign - like it wasn’t your actual room and just something temporary. You didn’t know how to make it yours though. Didn’t one of the boys say something about personalizing it?

You make your way into the bathroom and brush your hair. It was slightly frizzy so you just put it in a high ponytail. You brushed your teeth and got dressed before heading downstairs. It was only your third day with them and yet so much had happened. 

As you walk into the kitchen, the usual breakfast buffet is set out, different options of course but still smelling amazing.

“Morning, kitten.” Minho says, smiling at you.

“Morning.” you smile, blushing.

“Morning!” Felix cheered, hugging you from behind.

You tensed instinctively, and he let go.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m a hugger.”

You give him a small smile, your heart now beating a bit faster.

“Just because you hugged her once, doesn’t mean you can all the time.” Seungmin noted.

Felix glared at him.

“Y-you can.” you admitted, looking at the ground. “You just can’t sneak up on me.”

“Are you sure?” Felix asked, tilting your chin to look into your eyes.

“Yes.” you nod.

A big grin spread across his face and he engulfed you in a tight hug. You froze, not that you could move with his grip, but his smell of excitement and happiness relaxed you. You liked making him happy. Isn’t that what omegas are supposed to do? Take care of their pack members and provide them with strength, love, and support?

“Okay. Let’s eat.” Hyunjin said, coming into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

He looked over at y/n and Felix as he was hugging her.

“Nothing. She just gave Felix permission to hug her whenever he wants.” Seungmin sounded annoyed.

“Why does she look scared?” Hyunin smirked. 

Felix pulled away immediately, looking at your face. “No she doesn't.”

Hyunjin laughed as he walked by you and you noticed all the love bites and bruises covering his neck and arms. Jeongin was definitely rough with him yesterday. The commotion of everyone filling their plates with food drew your attention away. You realized you had been staring and cleared your throat to go fix your own plate. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” Changbin asked as you all started to sit at the table.

You sat between Felix and Hyunjin and began to eat your breakfast when Felix spoke.

“Oh! Let’s go to the lake! Y/n, you want to go to the lake?” Felix’s eyes were wide and he was nearly vibrating with excitement.

“Um…sure?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Minho clarified.

“I never got to leave my cell. Only on rare occasions when they wanted to parade us around for a party or something. So getting out of the house would be nice.” You say.

“Perfect.” Felix said with a big smile. “Who wants to join us?”

“Hyunjin?” Changbin asks with a suggestive smirk.

“Sorry babe. I have to go relieve Chan.” Hyunjin reminded him.

“Oh yeah.” Changbin pouted. “I guess I’ll still go.”

“Me too.” Seungmin added.

Felix hurried to finish his food and get a cooler packed. Minho was moving too slow for him so he made the sandwiches and snacks himself. Then he filled the cooler with some ice and drinks, putting the food on top. After, he ran off upstairs and returned after a few moments with towels and sunscreen.

“I think I got everything.” Felix mutters, thinking hard.

You giggle. “We need all this?”

“We are going to spend the day there. It’s a bit of a walk to get there so we can have a picnic after some swimming.” Changbin told you.

“Swimming?” you asked. You don’t even know if you have ever gone swimming. If so, you were really little - probably five seeing as you had been with the Nykos since you were around seven. Over a decade with them and you were definitely lacking in the life experiences department.

“Oh hey, Felix. We should bring the floaties.” Changbin stated.

“Yes. Good idea!” Felix rushed off to the garage. 

You had been walking for miles. Changbin says the lake is only a three and half mile walk but it feels longer. You were dragging behind everyone as they effortlessly hiked the hills and through the trees. You tripped a few times, one of which everyone had to stop for so Felix could clean the cut and apply a bandaid. 

They were all slowing down to keep pace with you, making it slower for them. They usually get there within an hour and it had definitely been closer to three hours at this point.

“C’mon y/n. We are almost there.” Seungmin complained.

“Give her a break Seungmin. She’s not used to all this activity.” Felix glared.

“It’s just over this hill.” Changbin said, holding out a hand to help you with the incline.

You gratefully took his hand as you panted, your legs burning. He pulled you along and it helped but you just wanted to get there. You made your way up the hill and at the top you could see the lake a few yards ahead.

“Wow. It’s gorgeous.” You say, stunned.

“It is. Come on.” Felix jumped from a giant rock and made his way down to the small ravine leading to the lake.

The lake wasn’t massive, definitely not big enough for boating. But enough that they could enjoy swimming around. The ravine was fairly wide, with a small creek trailing down to a waterfall that let out into the lake. As they walked the trail and came around the waterfall, they made out their usual picnic spot. Felix was laying out the blanket and placing the bags on the corners. 

There was a small wooden makeshift dock leading into the lake that you could jump off, the water clear enough for you to make out some fish swimming around and the rocks below. It was truly picturesque as you took it in.

“You like?” Felix asked.

“It’s so pretty here. The water, the trees, the mountain range in the background.” your eyes taking everything in.

“Worth the hike?” Changbin chuckled.

You nod. It definitely was. You wanted to stay here forever. Far away from the Nykos and any pack squabbles.

“Let’s go swimming and cool off.” Felix said eagerly, slipping off his shoes and running over to the small wooden dock.

He ran the length, jumping off and into the water. Your heart caught in your throat. You don’t know why the sight made you nervous, but you watched with wide eyes, willing him to resurface. Subconsciously you stepped forward, staring.

His head popped up and he laughed out, shaking his head and making his hair fling everywhere. You finally let out the breath you had been holding and watched as he swam around.

“Hurry. The water feels great.” Felix called out.

“Can you swim?” Seungmin stood beside you.

“I- uh…No, I don’t think so.” you mutter.

“We will teach you.” Seungmin assured with a smile. 

Felix climbed up the dock and was making his way over. He had taken off his tank top and was ringing it out. You stared at his bare skin, the water on it glistening in the sunlight. He stripped off his shorts too, leaving him in just his boxers as he rung out his clothes and came over. He went over to the trees and placed his clothes on a string you just noticed.  

“Ready?” Seungmin asked.

You nodded, slipping off your own shoes and following him to the little dock. You made it halfway before you got nervous and froze.

“It’s okay. I won’t let you drown.” Seungmin comforts, holding out a hand. “None of us will.”

Felix comes back, running past and doing a cannonball into the water. Changbin followed after, giggling as he jumped in. 

“C’mon y/n. I’ll catch you.” Changbin called.

Seungmin led you to the edge, standing with you.

“Jump,” Changbin beckoned.

Your legs froze. What if the water was too cold? What if it was too deep and you fell to the bottom? What if-

You scream, limbs flailing as you fall into the water. Seungmin was laughing mischievously. Of course he pushed you in. Changbin caught you like he said and you gasped for air, wiping the water from your face.

“Hey, hey. You’re good. I got you.” Changbin says.

“Seungmin. You ass!” You said between breaths, glaring at him.

“You were taking too long.” he says before jumping in.

Teaching you to swim turned out pretty easy. The boys got lucky that your subconscious remembered how from when you learned as a child. Within thirty minutes, you were swimming around them on your own. You could go underwater and swim in even the deepest part. 

You did nearly drown Felix at one point when a fish touched your foot and you freaked out, grabbing onto him. Seungmin was dying laughing at the situation, Changbin pulling you off and calming you.

After swimming for nearly an hour, you all got out and had lunch. You were in just a shirt and underwear as the boys just swam in their boxers. It was freeing but you didn’t feel comfortable enough to be fully naked. Changbin said they usually are naked when they come, but for you they would stay modest. You honestly didn’t know how you would feel if they were all naked right now.

So your clothes hung on the line, blowing in the breeze as you ate. The sandwiches Felix packed were pretty good and you managed to eat two and half (good thing Felix made several). 

“You were hungry.” Changbin noted, amused.

“Yeah, because she almost drowned Felix.” Seungmin notes.

You roll your eyes.

“He’s never gonna let you live that down.” Felix whispers. 

“I can tell.”

As you finish up, Seungmin gets ready to get back into the water. You tell him to wait up, hurrying to catch up to him. As you approach the dock, you hear rustling in the trees. You whip your head around to see what it was but you can’t see anything.

“Y/n….y/n?” Seungmin calls out but you barely hear him.

You squinted, looking harder between the brush of the trees and bushes. Focusing your heightened hearing, you hear footsteps approaching. Panic fills your body and you back up. You managed to get on the dock but stepped right off, into the shallow end. You screamed, falling into the water. The boys rushed over, Seungmin hopping down to help you up.

“No! Stop!” You pushed him away.

“Y/n, it’s okay. It’s us.” Changbin spoke in a calming way.

You blinked through the water on your face and realized you were surrounded by the three of them.

“But I heard footsteps.” you mumble. This was embarrassing.

Changbin quickly walked over to the trees and stepped through, making your heart race even more. He looked around, sniffing the air and listening out. When he returned, he shook his head.

“Nothing there. No scent. It was probably just an animal.”

“It sounded big if it was an animal.” you scoff.

“There are some big animals out here. But you aren’t used to the sounds of the forest, so it makes sense. But I promise you’re safe. This lake is deep in our property.” Changbin explains. 

You nod, Seungmin supporting you in the waist deep water. As the adrenaline wears off, you start to feel pain. Your ankle was kind of throbbing. You move to walk closer to the dock and you stumble, Seungmin catching you.

“Are you hurt?” Felix asks. 

You nod. “Not badly, though.” “Let me see.” Felix says and Seungmin and Changbin help you out of the water.

You sit on the dock and Felix inspects your ankle. You wince as he twists it a bit. Seungmin fetches the first-aid kit from Felix’s bookbag and brings it back to him.

“Might be a sprain or bruising. Here is definitely going to bruise.” he says, pointing to the side of your thigh that you landed on the rock with. It was scraped and slightly bleeding.

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” you mumble.

“Just let us take care of you.” Felix glares.

You keep your mouth shut as he examines the scrap, cleaning it.

“Can we get back to swimming now?” you ask.

“You’re hurt.” Seungmin deadpanned.

You roll your eyes, moving to stand. It hurts but you managed to get yourself on two legs. You begin walking - or rather limping - to the edge of the dock.

“See. I’m fine.”

“Y/n…if you keep walking on it, you can do more damage.” Felix lectured.

“Then I won’t walk.” You said, falling backwards into the water.

Felix gasps, looking at the other two for what to do. Seungmin shrugs and runs down the dock, diving into the water. Felix reluctantly puts the first aid kit back on their blanket and joins everyone in the water. They even brought some of the floaties out, blowing them up. You liked lounging on them..until Seungmin flipped you over.

It was dusk and the sun was about to set beyond the mountain range in the distance. You were laying on the blanket, Felix finally bandaging you up. Your leg was scraped so he applied some ointment he made from some of the herbs and wrapped it. He also wrapped your ankle so you could walk. Clothes were put back on and the picnic was packed.

“Okay, Y/n. I need to pack the blanket.” Felix said.

“I’m too tired to move.” you groaned as you laid there.

“Are you?” Changbin knelt down and began to tickle you.

You gasp, eyes wide as you squirmed. 

“What… are… you… doing?” you say between giggles.

Changbin stops. “Tickling you? No one’s ever…?”

He trailed off as you shook your head. Awkward…

You both stood and Felix packed up the bags. Everyone put their shoes on and began heading back home. You were limping but pushing through it. It wasn’t until you were nearly ten feet behind them that they realized how much you were hiding your pain.

“Okay. I’m giving you a piggyback ride home.” Changbin said.

“No, no. I’m fine.” That was a lie and they all knew it.

The more you walked on your ankle, the more it was hurting. But you didn’t want to be a burden. It was a long trek home and you didn’t want him to have to carry you the whole time.

“You’re light. And it will be faster if I carry you. The sun is about to set.” Changbin argued.

“You’re hurt y/n. You don’t want to make it worse. Just let him carry you.” Felix pleaded.

“Fine.” you groaned.

You weren’t used to touching them yet so it felt weird to be so close, but Seungmin helped you onto Changbin’s back and he carried you. The sun was setting faster than they wanted so they were trying to hurry home.

Lewis was pacing in his office as he waited for his betas to return home. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to cut ties with any of his allies for betraying him. But if they stole his omega, he would burn their house down and kill them all.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.” Lewis said.

Frankie and Hayes walked in.

“They didn’t have her and haven’t seen her. We were invited in but her smell wasn’t there or near the property.”

“Good. I don’t have to lose their numbers.” Lewis said. “Now I’m just waiting to hear back from Triston and Sam about the Okami pack. They need to hurry and get back.”

“I’m telling you, sir. They are with Greenridge. Their property was closest to where we were and if we didn’t see a body… It means she was picked up. It had to be them. And knowing them, they weren’t going to leave her to die.” Hayes argued.

“My father was clear about our agreement. I’m not going to undermine him. I am doing my due diligence before marching over there and demanding to search their property. If they stole from me, we don’t have to worry about the agreement.” Lewis said.

“So send us. We will ask if they have seen her. Of course they will deny it but we can catch her scent.” Frankie offered. “We go now and if Sam and Triston come back with her location before then, just call us and we will turn around.”

“Fine. Go. But…” Lewis pointed his finger at them. “If you see or smell her, don’t make a scene. I don’t need you trying to fight them. Just report back and we will form a plan.”

“Yes sir.” They said in unison with a bow of their heads.

They got in Hayes’s truck and drove over to the Greenridge property. The sun was nearly setting, making the skies a haze of purple and orange colors. They parked at the end of the drive and walked up, keeping as much distance as they could.

Minho and Chan were home, Chan knocked out in his room. Jeongin had worn him out last night and he spent the day sleeping it off. His body was spent and he was definitely going to have to send someone else for the night so he could recoup. The last thing he wanted was to weaken himself when they have to stay alert in protecting you.

Minho was looking in the fridge trying to figure out what to make for dinner. You three would be back soon and he wanted dinner ready. He decided on something simple - grilled chicken, roasted veggies, and mashed potatoes. Jisung was left to help fix dinner, which he groaned about because it meant he couldn’t play his game.

Whilst skinning and chopping the potatoes, the doorbell rang. Sighing, Minho went to answer it as Jisung kept chopping the veggies. Minho opened the door, greeting the two gentlemen as their scent practically smacked him in the face. One was an alpha, the other beta, and they both smelled a little like you did when you first arrived.

“Can I help you guys?” Minho asked.

“We hope so. I’m Frankie, this is Hayes. We were looking for a special someone. We lost our mate and she’s very timid. We were hoping that maybe you had seen her?” Frankie said in the most sincere voice, as if he was genuinely worried.

“Uh, no. We haven’t seen anyone new around here.”

“You sure?” Hayes challenged, eyes squinting at Minho. “She’s a very pretty thing. She likes to run off but she’s not the most stable in the head. She gets lost and confused easily… very delusional sometimes.” 

“Not ringing a bell.” Minho said, trying to maintain his anger. How dare he talk about you like that. “If I happen to find a confused girl, I will surely let you know.”

“Thank you.” Hayes stepped forward, his foot landing at the threshold of the door. He held out his hand and forced a smile. “We are part of the Nyko pack. Just bring her by if you find her.”

Minho shook his hand, a display of strength as Hayes squeezed. Minho didn’t reveal himself so he let the alpha squeeze his hand. “Will do. Have a nice night.”

“You too.” Hayes glanced around the room before he and Frankie walked off. Minho watched them get nearly halfway down the drive before shutting the door.

“Dammit.” Chan growled, coming up behind Minho from his room.

“You don’t think they could smell her, do you?” a worried Jisung asked.

“If they did, they played it off well. She hasn’t been here all day. So her scent should hopefully be faint enough. Between our smells, the cleaning I did earlier, and dinner… let’s hope.”

“We need to come up with a plan immediately. I am not letting them get the upper hand on this.” Chan went into his office.

Jisung practically whimpered at the tension in the room.

“Come on. They should be home soon and I want dinner ready for them.” Minho said, pulling Jisung back into the kitchen. 

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but the feeling of falling backwards woke you. You opened your eyes as Seungmin and Felix were pulling you off of Changbin’s back and laying you on the couch.

“Shh. We are home.” Felix cooed.

“That was fast.” you yawned.

“Wanted you home for dinner.” Minho spoke from the kitchen.

“Mmmm. It smells good.” you say, sitting up as the aroma of dinner wakes you.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Jisung exclaimed, rushing to your side.

Minho stopped his prep of the food and came over to see.

“I’m okay.” You roll your eyes.

Jisung reached to touch your thigh, but stopped himself. He then looked at the bandage on your other shin and your wrapped ankle.

“You’re clearly not okay. What happened out there?”

“Our omega is skittish and a little clumsy.” Changbin smiled.

“And she tried to drown Felix.” Seungmin added.

“I did not!” you huff but he only chuckles.

“Can you walk?” Jisung asks.

“Yes.” you say.

“Barely.” Felix said.

You moved to stand, ignoring the painful protest in your ankle. “See?”

Jisung moved out of your way and you walked…with a slight limp. Minho stared, wincing as he could see you doing ever so subtly. He could hear your heartbeat as the pain elevated it. 

“I’ve had a lot worse.” you remind, making your way to the table.

Minho and Jisung finish setting the table and everyone sits down to eat.

“Chan still with Jeongin?” Changbin asks.

Minho slows his movements. “Uh no… he’s in his office.”

“Should I grab him?” Seungmin moved to stand.

“No. I’ll bring him a plate. He um..doesn’t want to be interrupted right now.” Minho exchanged glances with a few of the boys as they looked at him skeptically. 

They could tell there was something he wasn’t saying, but they didn’t push him. You, however, were oblivious. The food was warm and delicious and had you closing your eyes. You moaned at how good it was, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Sorry.” you muttered when you finally noticed them all staring.

Minho smirked, happy you enjoyed his food so much.

Dinner went by quick, Chan staying in his office and exhausting every scenario he could think of to defend or attack as needed. Minho brought him a plate and nagged him till he finally ate some. Felix and Jisung helped clean the kitchen. Changbin and Seungmin had gone to shower. And Hyunjin was occupied with Jeongin. 

You found yourself missing their company as you walked upstairs. Sure Jeongin scared you half to death when he attacked you, but it was understandable. You weren’t going to hold it against him. You made your way to the end of the hall, presumably Jeongin’s room and opened the door. His smell was there but faint since he hadn’t been in it for about thirty-six hours. His room was darker, a brick accent wall behind his bed and wood ceilings. He had a brown leather headboard and dark grey paneling framing his bed - it felt earthy and cozy. 

You realized you had never seen anyone else’s room yet and wondered how theirs looked in comparison to yours and Jeongin’s. Jeongin’s was definitely more homey than yours.

You went across the hall and opened that door, Hyunjin’s scent wafting over you. His scent was stronger since he had been here recently. His room was way different. His walls were paneling of wood in multiple shades. He had a fireplace and tv opposite his bed. A chair was in the far corner, with a desk next to it. Canvases were piled in the other corner, one on an easel facing away from you. 

His desk was covered in paints and brushes. It was definitely the work station of an artist. You found yourself walking inside, reaching for the wool blanket draped over the foot of his bed. You lifted it to your nose and breathed in his smell. Wow, he smells amazing. His room also made you feel warm and cozy. Why were their rooms better than yours?

“Hey.” Jisung whispered. 

You of course jumped, dropping the blanket and placing your hand on your chest.

“Sorry. I knew that was going to happen. I tried to walk louder.” he looked to the room. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh..” you blushed. How were you going to explain this?

“Exploring?” Jisung asks.

You nod.

“He smells good, doesn’t he?” Jisung smiles. “But I smell better right?”

You smile, rolling your eyes at him.

“Come. I’ll show you my room.”

You stayed rooted to your spot. The last time a beta said that, Triston brought you to his room, locking you in there until he was done with you. He complained you ‘took a while to satisfy him’ even though he basically used you all night. He seemed satisfied enough each time he came.

“Y/n?” Jisung asked.

You looked at him and swallowed thickly. 

You don’t have to be afraid. They aren’t the Nykos. They won’t hurt you. You remind yourself.

You follow Jisung to his room, not stepping inside. The smell hit you hard, taking you back. Yes, it was comforting but there was something about it. You took in his mess of a room. He had a sliding door on one wall, leading out to a balcony, the walls a white shiplap. But the room was trashed with clothes everywhere. You swear there was a rotten apple hidden somewhere in the mess.

“I should have cleaned up first…” he mumbled.

“Maybe.” You forced a smile. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Okay. You sure you’re alright? We have a tub if you want to take a bath.” 

“I’m okay. I just want to lay down and sleep. I’m worn out.”

“Wait.” Jisung looked around his room before grabbing a t-shirt from a basket. It had the logo of an anime on it. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” “It’s clean. It’s for your nest.”

“Nest?” You questioned. That was the thing they talked about before.

“Right…um. Just take it. I’ll explain tomorrow.”

You nodded, making your way to your room. A ten minute shower later and you were curling up in your bed. Jisung’s shirt was at the foot of your bed. Curiously, you reach for it, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing. His smell wasn’t as strong but it still smelled so good. You couldn’t get enough. Unbeknownst to you, you fell asleep with it up to your face.

“She’s there…with the Greenridge pack.” Hayes confirmed. “It was faint but I smelled her.”

“Faint?” Lewis raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think she was home while we were there. The guys weren’t that defensive but they were definitely playing it off. I could smell her scent.”  Hayes explained.

“Did you smell it?” Lewis asked Frankie.

“I honestly don’t know how she smells. She always smelled like the basement and the other omegas.”

Lewis sighed. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. Even though you aren’t very credible right now.” “I wouldn’t lie about something like this. I want her back here as much as you do.” Hayes said.

“Very well. Looks like we need to come up with our plan of attack. Sam and Triston are upstairs. Go get them.” Lewis demanded.

Frankie retrieved the betas and they all began planning the best way to get you back.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027

Shout out to my beta for inspiring, motivating, and pushing me! @its-the-solar-system

[pupsmailbox]

1980's ID PACK

NAMES︰ aaron. adam. adding addison. adrian. alex. alexis. ali. alyssa. amanda. amber. andie. andrea. andrews. andy. anne. annie. anthony. april. ashley. aubrey. audrey. babysitters: belinda. bill. billie. billy. blair. bobbie. bobby. bonnie. brad. brandi. brandy. bret. brett. brian. brianna. brittany. caitlin. carey. carla. carly. carol. cary. casey. charlie. chris. christie. christina. christine. christopher. cindy. clare. clarissa. claudia. cody. corey. cory. courtney. crystal. dan. dana. daniel. darrell. david. dawn. devon. drew. dustin. elliott. emily. emmett. eric. erica. erik. erika. fran. francis. frankie. georgie. gloria. greer. greg. harriet. harry. heather. hollis. holly. jackie. jamie. jason. jayme. jeffery. jennifer. jeremy. jessica. jessie. jody. joe. john.zach. jory. joseph. josh. joy. jules. justin. kelly. kevin. kim. kimberly. kit. kristen. kristy. kyle. landry. larissa. laura. lauren. lee. linden. lisa. loren. lou. lucas. lynn. mallory. maria. marie. mark. marlowe. mary matt. matthew. meaghan. megan. melanie. melissa. melody. merit. michael. michelle. mickey. mike. mikey. mindy. misty. mo. morgan. natalie. neil. nick. nicky. nicole. ollie. other ozzie. parker. patrick. paul. paula. paulie. polly. quinn. rachel. randall. randell. randy. rebecca. rees. reese. richard. rob. robbie. robert. rory. royce. ryan. sabrina. sam. sarah. scott. sean. seth. shannon. shea. shelby. skyler. stacey. stacy. stephanie. stephen. stevie. taylor. the tiffany. tim. todd. tonya. tracy. tyler. valerie. victoria. will. wyatt. xavier. zack.

PRONOUNS︰ arc/arcade. arcade/arcade. arcade/arcem. beam/beam. beep/beep. bling/bling. bo/booth. boom/box. bop/bop. bou/boutique. bright/bright. buzz/buzz. ca/car. cartoon/cartoon. cass/cassette. cassette/cassette. class/classic. color/color. cor/vette. dated/dated. dazzle/dazzle. dine/diner. disc/disc. disco/disco. elec/electric. flash/flash. gae/game. gli/glitch. glitter/glitter. glow/glow. jazz/jazz. juke/box. light/light. loud/loud. neon/neon. nostal/nostal. pac/man. par/parlor. pattern/pattern. phone/phone. pin/ball. po/pop. polybi/polybius. pop/pop. rain/rainbow. ret/retro. retro/retro. rock/roll. salon/salon. ska/skate. star/star. synth/wave. text/text. vin/vintage. vintage/vintage. vivid/vivid. walk/walkman. 🌈 . 🍭 . 👾 . 💥 . 🕹 . 🧩 .

[shmalk]

hi there !! this post isn't obligatory to view my content, but i'd love to introduce myself to you !

MY REQUESTS ARE : OPEN !

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ here is what you need to know ! : ̗̀➛

• im shmalk ! you can call me malk, blue, shmalk, whatever you like !

• i write about almost anything, if i haven't heard of it, i'll do my best to do some research and write it as best i can !

• i mainly do { x reader } but i will also write { character x character } !

CURRENTLY, I WRITE FOR :

COD CHARACTERS :

simon riley, johnny mactavish, kyle garrick, john price, kate laswell, phillip graves, könig, horangi, valeria, alejandro, rudy, and farah karim.

ONE PIECE CHARACTERS :

luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, nico robin, brook, ace, frankie, trafalgar d law,

HARRY POTTER CHACTERS :

[ others ] newt scammander, tom riddle

[ marauders era ] james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, peter pettigrew, regulus black, lily evans,

[ golden era ] harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, neville longbottom, seamus finnagin, dean thomas, george weasley, fred weasley, charlie weasley, bill weasley, percy weasley, ginny weasley, cedric diggory, draco malfoy, blaise zambini, mattheo riddle, theodore knott, lorenzo berkshire,

TWILIGHT CHARACTERS :

[ vampires ] edward cullen, alice cullen, carlisle cullen, bella swan, jasper hale, rose hale, emmet cullen

[ wolves ] jacob black, paul lahote, sam uley, quil v ateara, jared cameron, embry call, seth clearwater, leah clearwater,

[ humans ] charlie swan, tyler crowley, mike newton, eric yorkie, jessica stanley, angela webber, lauren mallory,

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Em! May I know more about Dawns please? 🌄💕

my darling mallory!! of course 💓

dawns is taken from zach bryan's tune (below), which i listened to for about nine hours straight on a recent trip to edinburgh. it unlocked this feeling of void-like grief - of knowing that the love is gone and the time has been wasted, and though you grieve that, you don't necessarily want it back or want to fix it.

i texted jo and al (@jolapeno and @schnarfer) to see whether it was more of a frankie song or a joel song, and eventually settled on joel (sorry al hehe).

in a nutshell, it's a very angsty non-linear fic about how you can love each other so much in the beginning but then do anything to be rid of someone by the end. but also finding that the end is much scarier than you ever thought it would be.

He stops short, four steps away at the most. The younger brother he sheltered and cared for and grew like a seedling as soon as he was placed in his arms by their father in the hospital. Brother, brother. I’ll protect you always. The kids at school, their father’s temper, their mother’s ruin. Couldn’t protect him from deployment, how he came within a breath of death in the desert. It keeps him awake at night, what Tommy has seen. No Joel to hold his fingers over his eyes. He used to reach for you, wrap his arms around you in the blue moonlight to help him feel as though he hadn’t got it all wrong. He doesn’t remember the last time he reached for you. He feels that Tommy sees all this when he looks him in the eye, looks right through him. Like he can feel the brand of your ring in Joel's pocket, like he can feel what it is that his big brother did. He must know, because his eyes narrow. His brow folds, lips twist, and his voice is hurt. Not the man he is but the child he was, scraped knees and sunburn and a bare top lip before the thought of a moustache would ever occur to him.

thank you my love!!!

[prettyqueerwitch]

My Spiritual Book TBR's

This is mainly for me to have a comprehensive list but also might help others in finding books to read!

Marked ♡ means I own the book

Read

• Witchery by Juliet Diaz

• The Green Witch by Arin Murphy-Hiscock

• Witch, Please by Victoria Maxwell

Currently Reading

To Be Read

♡ The Altar Within by Juliet Diaz

♡ Plant Witchery by Juliet Diaz

♡ Encyclopedia of Spirits by Judika Illes

• Encyclopedia of Witchcraft by Judika Illes

• Encyclopedia of Mystics, Saints, & Sages by Judika Illes

• Moon Magic by Diane Ahlquist

♡ The Moon Book by Sarah Faith Gottesdiener

♡ Magical Healing by Hexe Claire

• The Long Lost Friend by John George Hohman

• Hex and Spellwork by Karl Herr

♡ Witchcraft Medicine by Claudia Müller-Ebeling, Christian Rätsch, and Wolf-Dieter Storl

• How to Study Magic by Sarah Lyons

• Love is In The Earth by Melody

• Radical Remedies by Brittany Ducham

♡ Spiritual Ecology by Multiple People (Llewellyn)

♡ A Witch's Shadow Magic Compendium by Raven Digitalis

• The Witch at The Forests Edge by Christine Grace

• Six Ways by Aidan Wachter

♡ Honoring Your Ancestors by Mallorie Vaudoise

• Year of The Witch by Temperance Alden

♡ Weave The Liminal by Laura Tempest Zakroff

♡ The Book of Candle Magic by Madame Pamita and Judika Illes

• The Triumph of the Moon by Ronald Hutton

♡ Folk Witchcraft by Roger J. Horne

♡ Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer

♡ The Spiral Dance by Starhawk

• Spells for Change by Frankie Castanea

• Utterly Wicked by Dorothy Morrison

♡ Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

♡ The Little Work by Durgadas Allon Duriel

• Entering Hekates Garden by Cyndi Brannen

• Entering Hekates Cave by Cyndi Brannen

• Nordic Runes by Paul Rhys Mountfort

• The Book of Spells by Ella Harrison

• Plants of the Devil by Corinne Boyer

♡ Besom, Stang, and Sword by Christopher Orapello, Tara-Love Maguire

♡ Inner Witch by Gabriela Herstik

♡ Psychic Witch by Mat Auryn

♡ The Black Arts by Richard Cavendish

• Blackthorn's Botanical Magic by Amy Blackthorn

• Astrology for Real Life by Theresa Reed

♡ Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom

• The Trotula by Monica H. Green

• Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

• Bringing Race to the Table: Exploring Racism in the Pagan Community by Crystal Blanton, Taylor Ellwood, and Brandy Williams

• God Against the Gods by Jonathan Kirsch

• Pure Magic by Judika Illes

• Folk Magic by Mari Silva

• Witches Herbal Primer by Amy Cesari

♡ New World Witchery by Cory Thomas Hutcherson

•Magical Folk Healing by DJ Conway

• The Pagan Book of Days by Nigel Pennick

♡ Lady of The Night by Edain McCoy

♡ Spellcraft for a Magical Year by Sarah Bartlett

♡ The Complete Lenormand Oracle Handbook by Catlín Matthews

♡ Natural Magic by Pamela Ball

♡ Rebel Witch by Kelly-Ann Maddox

♡ The Only Astrology Book You'll Ever Need by Joanna Martine Woolfolk

♡ Mastering Magick by Mat Auryn

♡ In-focus Crystals by Bernice Cockram

♡ The Complete Grimoire by Lidia Pradas

• The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells by Judika Illes

And that took a while but we're done! Will probably update this as I go <3

[selfsabotaqe]

hi everyone! it's been a while & finally i'm making my comeback. work has finally left me some room to breathe so i'll be reappearing on your dash and hopefully getting back into the swing of replies. down below there's a full list of everything currently in my drafts. please let me know whether you'd like to continue or drop these threads. whichever scenario is completely fine and understandable (it's been a hot sec after all), just let me know. if you'd prefer to start something new, we can also do that. feel free to message me or reply to this post anytime. there's no rush at all to make up your mind, but just to start off i'll start with replies for threads people do actively express interest in. so if anything from this list is something you're still excited about, let me know and i'll prioritize. we can always waitlist the other stuff while we feel it out. anyway, let me know, come chat, let me love u down and can't wait to continue writing together. love u all! 💗🥹

with @persephonyed. carlos x lorenzo marley x camille

with @silvrmoon. nadiye x milo axel x kadri zehra x sierra

with @lilacwiine. drew x felice amara x maya

with @invcntions. alec x lucas mateo x saxon devrim x leo beau x koa emre x noah luca x jaiden (smth new?) jesse x finn peyton x vance soren x lincoln

with @horrorphase. dominic x percy milan x kendall

with @slumpcd. max x theo kendall x nolan jinny x gwen

with @gcldcnhour. eden x mathias rhys x bodie isabel x tate alina x priya zoe x knox ethan x violet marisol x miriam

with @temptedfates. emmett x aydin noor x solana

with @spectraled. maddie x rory tbd x dallas (thought abt replying if u would like replies <3)

with @vacationeyes. marco x conrad julian x callum emre x frankie xavier x tyson jude x forest

with @lovecharged. jonas x antonio aleksei x drake bridie x quilo tbd x amie jonas x antonio (part two) julian x zayn felix x robin nadiye x rasim tatum x uziah carlos x gabriel

with @fruitpoem. ambar x joel

with @inkiidreams. aera x selin davika x esra carlos x mallory merve x yaritza robin x aurelia lais x nova casper x knox lachlan x olivia

with @wutheringdevotion. lachlan x oliver rowan x ginny connor x evan meera x monique carlos x gabriel gwen x jonah margot x adrian

with @gardenwalls. meera x paloma alec x mack naiyana x nadine daniel x minako laura x andrea fabien x mei li nazli x rhys

with @felteverywhere. alina x rowan

with @sunstvne. santiago x constantin

with @gvngsigns. gabriela x lucas kai x mateo florence x liam tobias x zuri andrea x cruz ricardo x vincent

with @scbrvght. all of our formula one threads (don't think i owe u the replies but let me know if you'd like to continue them <3) lale x finley soren x everly

mAYBE im missing things. if there's anything i owe you that isn't on this list, feel free to point it out to me! and also vice versa, if you owe me something & you want to discuss continuing or dropping it, just come message me and we can chat about it!

[wildmeadowsims]

My little apocalyptic found family 💕

Here is my Hells Gate OC and her family! I made these poses for the family and I'm happy how they came out, even if my main girl Maida doesn't look very happy, i legit couldn't work out her face? like dude she's have a baby in the apocalypse. So from left to right the family is: Wren Canterbury - Maida and Franklin adopted her when her parents died and I think Maida was her godmother? Mallory "Mal" Washington - Maida and Franklin fostered her when she first was brought to Hells Gate after she was abandoned by her parents and their group because she was too much of a burden. (she has a hearing aid by its just hard to see, i took these before the update so now shes got the ea ones and they are bright green and yellow.)

Franklin "Frank / Frankie" Satterfield - Franklin came to the town on his own means not long after the town was founded as a survivors settlement. He and Maida met in Hells Gate. (Franklin was originally made for someone's bachelorette challenge. but I liked him so much that I've brought him here.)

Maida Ramírez - Maida is the niece of the town's founder however she didn't make it to Hells Gate for a while after the outbreak. At one point she wasn't even going to try and find any of her family, now she couldn't imagine how different her life would be had she not have gone looking. Oh yeah and she and Franklin are expecting... (infant update i am waiting) Phoenix - Phoenix was Franklin's dog before he met Maida and now she's the family's best pal :)