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lotusbxtch · 2 months ago

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SoCal to NorCal: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist Chapter 1: Malibu

Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x f!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together? - or - you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 2: Highway 101 & Beyond

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader x Joel Miller

Chapter Summary: As you road trip north, you and Frankie struggle to voice your growing feelings for each other. Joel suggests something surprising, and the three of you unexpectedly explore new territory together.

Word Count: 8.7k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, phone sex, video sex, masturbation (f and m), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum kink, cum eating, there’s a lot of cum lol i’m sorry in advance if that’s not your thing, squirting, slight size kink, mentions of food, mentions of Frankie’s young daughter named Isabella, mentions of drug addiction and recovery, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, she/her pussy pronouns, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Frankie the PEK, Joel’s filthy mouth is absolutely its own warning, idiots in love, a splash of angst, soft!Joel but also menace!Joel because we love a man with duality, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control.

a/n: The road trip continues! I’m so excited to dive more into Frankie and Reader’s relationship, and I KNOW you all have been waiting for Joel to get into the mix. Well, buckle up buttercups, because he is about to be THE BIGGEST MENACE lmao. A deeply grateful thank you to my darling @for-a-longlongtime, who encourages me every day, helped me massively flesh out some of the more emotional aspects of the chapter, and who I talk to almost every day, in addition to being my beta reader. Thank you @mountainsandmayhem, @alltheirdamn , and @mermaidgirl30 for screaming with me about these three when I shared excerpts with you. And thank you to everyone for being patient with me while I got this written up between huge life events (both good and bad)! Dividers & banners by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you. (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

You’re so happy.

After your short but memorable stay with Santiago, you and Frankie have been on the road, spending the last few days leisurely meandering up Highway 1 towards San Francisco. You take turns driving, playing car DJ, and sightseeing as you travel north. Tanned feet on the dash, chaste kisses to the back of hands while driving, a shifting playlist between your differing musical tastes. Nights spent snuggled up in a rental or hotel room, playing 20 Questions or “Would You Rather”, kisses turning into intertwining of limbs, labored breath and fingers gripping bed sheets, the murmuring of each other’s names like prayers.

In Ojai, you drank a little too much wine at the tasting room and biked back to the hotel with wobbly legs. Hearst Castle landed on your list for the formerly-captive-now-wild zebras (you) and to gawk at “ridiculously rich people shit” (Frankie). Ocean kayaking amongst the sea otters and sea lions in Morro Bay filled both of you with wonder. Frankie let you lead him into every little boutique shop that called your name, contentedly trailing behind you while you browsed.

Wherever you were, Frankie indulged your sweet tooth by sniffing out the best artisan ice cream shops. One time during a playful debate, you bopped your frozen treat to Frankie’s nose, giggling at his surprised expression and kissing the sticky-sweet remnants off of him before he picked you up over his shoulder. Your shrieks of joy ricocheted off the small town street until he tossed you in the backseat of his Jeep and crawled in after you, demanding a taste of something sweeter. Before you knew it, you were moaning and sighing under Frankie’s ministrations in an abandoned parking lot. The sight of his messy curls between your thighs as he lapped at your core propelled you into a stratosphere of pleasure.

The next morning, you continued your road trip north and stopped in Santa Cruz to experience the boardwalk since Frankie had never been. Sun-drenched wood slats under your feet, the crisp, briny breeze cooling your exposed skin. You and Frankie meander slowly, eating chocolate dipped soft serve cones and curly fries, hopping onto the slightly rickety carnival rides, including the famous wooden (and creaky) Giant Dipper roller coaster. (“This thing can’t be structurally sound if it’s making all that noise,” Frankie muttered, but you still got him to get on.)

Adrenaline trickling through your veins, giddy with endorphins from the coaster, you and Frankie debate who had the best strategy for the carousel’s metal ring toss game. “You can’t just huck it like a ninja star,” he gripes about your approach, shaking his head with a smile. “You have to finesse and time it, and throw it like a frisbee so it floats in.”

“I swear, I was way closer than you were,” you shoot back. “I’ve had my whole life to perfect my technique. One of my rings hit the clown’s mouth! More than I can say about your attempts.” You stick your tongue out at Frankie, and he rolls his eyes playfully. Neither of you had set off the lights and buzzers that indicated a successful throw. He’s about to point this out when his phone trills.

Pulling it out of his pocket, his eyebrows knit together a bit before answering. “Mamá,” Frankie says into the phone, “Que pasa? Is something wrong?” He had dropped off Isabella with her for the duration of the road trip, his mother always eager to have “girl time” with her only grandchild.

“No, no, mijo,” she responds, “Estámos bien. Isa is napping. I just wanted to call you and see how your vacation is going. You work so hard, you deserve to have this time to yourself!”

Frankie breaths a small sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, good. Well, I’ve gotta keep it short. We’re out here on the pier.”

“ ‘WE?’ ” you suddenly hear screeching out of the phone, her tone ecstatic. “Who are you with? Oh my goodness, are you with that girl?”

Frankie winces, holding the phone away from his ear as you chuckle. “Yes, mamá,” Frankie responds, “the woman I told you about. You don’t need to yell.” He looks at you, a blush slowly creeping up his face, a sheepish smile on his lips. He mouths “five minutes” while walking towards the side of the walkway. Nodding your head with a smile, you whisper, “take your time,” and kiss his cheek, settling on a bench nearby but out of earshot of the conversation, allowing Frankie his privacy.

“Oh, mijo, that’s wonderful!” his mother exclaims. “When do I get to meet her?”

Frankie huffs out a laugh. “Mamá, relax. You will get to meet her in time. We’re not quite there yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Haven’t you been together for a few months now?”

“Yes, but…” Frankie trails off, not quite sure his mother can handle a full explanation of your situation. Honestly, as he thinks about it, he isn’t even 100% sure what to call the two of you anymore. “It’s complicated,” he says simply.

The both of you agreed to enjoy what you had with no expectations. But “no expectations” changed over the days, weeks, months to become a desire to be around each other more days than not. Visits in the dead of night became dates during the day, morphing into waking up in each other’s arms, eating breakfast together over the weekends, bedhead and sleepy eyes and warm smiles. He thinks about the way you make him laugh, head thrown back, with his whole chest. He thinks about your playful debates, the way you tease him when he loses to you in Mario Kart. He thinks about the way you writhe under, on top of, beside him as he draws pleasure from your body again and again, your moans and gasps creating the prettiest song he’s ever heard. Frankie thinks about your soul, your heart, your innate goodness, and then he thinks about how he can’t possibly deserve any more than you already give him, despite him realizing more every day that he can’t imagine his life without you.

Frankie’s mother clears her throat on the other end of the line, and he snaps back to the present moment.

“Francisco,” she says softly. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just tell her how you feel, and see where it takes you. If she's as special as you say she is, you're going to regret not saying anything.”

Frankie looks down at his boots, and then back at you. You smile at him from the bench, your sundress fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Mamá, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“If you want something, Francisco, go for it. I always told you that you need to be more confident in yourself.” Frankie’s mother sighs affectionately. “You have done so much for your career, for Isabella… you have more than made up for your transgressions, mijito. Do this one thing for yourself. Take the risk.”

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship, when he said he didn’t want anything serious because he was focusing on his career and his daughter. Not only was he in a stable job with room for upward movement, and becoming the father that Isabella deserved, it was because of you that he was able to achieve his goals. You’ve always supported him, encouraged him, and given him reality checks when he needed it. Not once have you asked for more in the relationship, but he never felt like you had to. He was willing to give you that and so much more. He was nearly certain that you felt the same way about having each other as a more permanent part of your lives, but without ever asking the question directly, he couldn’t be certain that it wasn’t just all in his head.

Frankie swallows thickly. “You’re right,” he acquiesces. “I’ll talk to her soon, when the moment is right. I don’t want to lose her.”

His mother coos sweetly at him. “Now that’s the son I know and love! I’ll let you go have fun with your lady. I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too, Mamá,” Frankie whispers, and then ends the call.

You’re people watching at the boardwalk as Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. There’s no surprise triggered by his arms around you, just a calm ease and warmth. He presses kisses into your hair and sighs deeply. Tipping your head to the side, you return the kisses up his arm and rub his knuckles with your thumbs.

“How’s your mamá?” you ask.

“Good,” Frankie responds, “just checking in to make sure I was having fun on my vacation.” A sheepish grin blooms on his face. “Sorry you had to hear her scream about you.”

You snicker as you stand up from the bench. “Nah, it wasn’t my ear she yelled into… But I didn’t mind at all. It’s sweet how she checks up on you.”

He grins, lifting his cap briefly to run his fingers through his hair. “She knows how hard I’ve been working to make things right with my job, and with Isabella, and she’s been pushing me to take some time off.” He sighs, looking off into the distance, and you know him well enough to know he’s doubtful of his progress.

“You deserve it, Frankie,” you murmur to him, lacing your fingers with his. You both start strolling along the boardwalk again, Frankie looking deeply in thought. “You’re always so hard on yourself, and at the very least, you deserve some time off.”

Glancing over at him, your breath catches. Frankie’s already staring at you, curls wild in the sea breeze, brown eyes warm and sparkling. Suddenly your chest feels like it’s cracked open, warm and aching. You feel the spark in your heart, and you realize that your feelings may be more than a simple affection. You search Frankie’s eyes and you can see a steady hidden layer under the warmth of his gaze as he lifts your joined hands to his lips, kissing them softly. It makes your heart do somersaults, the deeper unspoken emotions that flickered across his irises. A deep devotion that tugs at your soul.

He deserves the world.

Frankie huffs a laugh, dropping his gaze. “Everyone seems to tell me that. Guess I should stop being so damn stubborn and start believing them.” You continue walking, Frankie swinging your hands between the two of you as you settle into comfortable silence.

This is more than lust and companionship, you think to yourself. The way he looks at you, touches you with such reverence. It goes deeper than respect and fondness. Only Joel had ever given you butterflies and yet here you are, a fluttering in your gut, foreign but familiar. But what does that mean for you and Joel?

Can your heart love two people at once?

Whoa…. wait, “love”??

You push the thoughts away with a shake of your head, determined to be present in the moment with Frankie. Bumping gently into his shoulder to get his attention, you flash him a smile.

“Wanna see which one of us can win first at the dime toss game?” you ask Frankie, and his eyes crinkle at the corners the way you love so much when he smiles in return, his competitive streak flaring.

“Sweetness, I thought you’d never ask. Prepare to lose.”

After you absolutely demolish Frankie at the dime toss (he swears they rigged the bowls he was aiming for), you and Frankie hit the road towards the cute cottage you’d booked for the night. Among the draws was its proximity to good food while being simultaneously off the beaten path. You were dying to try the seafood restaurant nearby, which was recommended to Frankie by one of his coworkers.

Per usual for the northern California coast, the fog began to roll in from the beach, casting ghostly tendrils across the road. Fog was one of the things you missed most about home while in SoCal, where it was a rarity. You roll up the windows and flip on your seat heater with a content sigh, then drape your body over the center console to grab your oversized cardigan from the back. The move makes your short dress hike further up your thighs as you reach for the soft knit. Frankie glances in the rearview mirror, spotting a flash of the curve of your ass where it peeks out of your panties. The sight has him already hardening in his pants. A quiet groan rises from his throat involuntarily, and you smirk, knowing exactly what he’s reacting to.

“God, hermosa, that fucking dress,” Frankie grits. “I’ve been half hard all day seeing you in it.” You say nothing, but look over at him, your smirk growing bigger as you recline the seat a bit more and stretch your body just so, making the light blue eyelet lace material ride higher up your thighs, which you spread lasciviously.

“Oh?” you tease. “What are you going to do about it?” You see Frankie’s eyes flash with desire for a moment, but he works hard to keep his cool.

His hand inches up your inner thigh while he drives, teasing swirls with his fingertips across your soft skin. You pant quietly, your breasts heaving gently against the low, curved neckline, and bite back a whimper as more arousal pools in your cotton underwear. “Take off your panties,” Frankie gently commands.

Dragging the material down your hips and legs, you let your thighs part for him, inviting his touch. Frankie keeps his eyes on the road, calmly navigating towards a quiet backroad. His focused demeanor is a lie though; his increasingly rapid breathing is a dead giveaway. When his fingers brush against your drenched folds, he groans and grips the wheel tighter with his driving hand.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grits out. “You’re so fucking wet for me already.” His nimble fingers explore you, spreading the slick around, swiping a soft circle around the pearl of your clit. He plays with you, and you start to writhe. A smirk blooms on his face as he clocks your movement. Frankie loves teasing you like this, drawing things out until you buckle under the pressure of your mounting desires. But the throbbing of his cock and your soft mewling sounds are making him desperate.

Frankie pulls the car over to a small lot connected to an overlook, its parking spaces empty since the vista point is shrouded in fog. Trees block the view of your parking spot to traffic on the road. He throws the car in park, ripping his seatbelt off, and pulls your face to his for a passionate kiss. Swallowing your moans with his lips, Frankie tangles his tongue with yours while his fingers grip the base of your skull.

“You’re killing me with this slutty little sundress,” he pants, sliding his hand down to cup your naked sex.

You let out a strangled cry. “Frankie, I need you.”

Frankie shushes you gently. “Get in the back, nenita. I’ve got you.” You comply, scrambling over the center console and pushing your back up against the door, legs spreading wide and fingers tracing your glistening folds. He feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get his mouth on you in the next twenty seconds. He gets out of the front seat, yanking open the driver’s side back door and shutting it behind him after he slides in towards you.

“Gonna suck on that sweet little clit of yours ‘til you scream,” Frankie growls as he crawls towards your body, pushing your knees further towards your torso so you’re opened up lewdly for him. He slides his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to wet them, slipping them out and immediately burying them to the second knuckle in your soft cunt. A high-pitched whine is ripped from your throat.

“Frankie!” you whine, eyebrows furrowing together as you lock eyes with him. The mocha richness of his eyes has given way to pits of nearly black desire, and he keeps them on you while he presses his tongue flat to your swollen clit. Your eyes roll back and you nearly scream in pleasure.

“That’s it, baby, I’m gonna make you come so hard,” he murmurs into your drenched folds, and then buries his face into you. You weave your fingers into his fluffy curls, opening your eyes to watch him at work.

Frankie’s eyes slip closed as he rhythmically pumps his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, curving them slightly up to hit that magical spot you can never quite reach the same way as he does. He sucks your hardened clit into his mouth, nestling it between the cleft of his lower lip and an almost imperceptible divot in the center of his tongue. That sweet, talented tongue swirls in precise tiny circles with the perfect pressure, while continuing to suckle exactly how you like it. Joel may go down on you like nobody’s business, but Frankie has cunnilingus nearly down to a science. At this point, he knows the exact series of moves to bring you to orgasm, and how long it takes really just depends on how long he feels like eating pussy that day. Sometimes, he’ll lay with his face between your legs for hours.

And right now? Frankie seems to want to break his own record for how fast he can get you to come.

Within seconds, you feel your orgasm gathering in your muscles. The tight shimmer of pleasure reverberates across your skin, in your bones, through every cell in your body, suspended in time, just waiting for a release. Frankie feels you tightening on his fingers, and you swear you feel him smirk against your slick folds. He keeps going, never faltering his movements, as the feeling inside you builds.

“Frankie,” you whine again, your body starting to shake. It shouldn't be physically possible for him to get you there so fast, and yet you feel that bowstring drawing impossibly tense in your body. “Frankie, I’m gonna… I’m so….” you keen, high-pitched, your chest heaving fast. Frankie moans against your folds, pressing just a bit harder with his fingers, crooking them just right, and sucks your clit hard.

You’re lucky that the area is truly secluded, because the scream tearing out of your throat as you shatter in ecstasy is loud. Your thighs lock around Frankie’s head as he moans deeply into your pussy, drawing out your orgasm expertly. Slick weeps from your cunt, soaking his lips and chin, and he slurps down every drop. He slows and gentles his ministrations on your core until he feels your thighs relax. Pulling back, he gives your folds one last kiss before he moves up your body to hover over your face, admiring the flush lighting up your features. Frankie kisses you gently, and you cup his face with both hands.

“Sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted,” Frankie slurs, pussydrunk on you.

“God, you’re incredible,” you murmur against his lips, kissing him deeper, the taste of your own essence making you clench involuntarily. You can feel the thick, hard line of him against your thigh. Moaning, you press yourself into him. “Let me ride you, Francisco.”

Frankie lets out a groan as he pulls you up. You rest your knees on the backseat, littering kisses over his face as he unbuttons and shoves his jeans and boxers down. His cock smacks his belly, precum smearing on his skin. Leaning over, you lick it off, his salty taste invading your senses. Frankie groans again when you suck him into your mouth. You gently lick his foreskin and pull it down to reveal his ruddy head, the tip leaking. Slurping and suckling, you sneak a hand between your thighs to rub your clit, the action not going unnoticed by Frankie. It seems to snap him out of his trance.

“I need to be inside you so badly,” he grits out, pulling you onto his lap. The skirt of your sundress flares over the both of you. Reaching down, he brushes his tip against your folds, making you both whine. Swirling it through your combined slick and spit, Frankie presses his head into you slowly. You take over, grabbing his hand to place it over your hip, and grind down on him, letting his length slip further and further into you. Your breath hitches as he spreads your walls, always a stretch no matter how many times you’ve taken him.

Frankie drops his head back against the headrest, his hands gripping you tightly. “You’re always so fucking tight for me, querida,” he pants, his eyes glazing over with lust. His words prompt another wave of slick to leak out of you, aiding your descent down his shaft as you swirl your cunt around him. Both of you moan, and soon enough you’re fully seated on him. You lean down, kissing him passionately, and he responds in kind, slipping his tongue into your mouth to massage against yours. Your hips begin to roll and Frankie breaks the kiss, a deep rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s like hot velvet,” he grits out, grabbing your hips to buck up into you. He trails kisses down your jaw and leaves little love bites as he goes. The car is filled with the slap of flesh, the squelch of your cunt as you fuck yourself on his cock, your shared gasps and panted breaths. Frankie slips the straps of your dress down, pulling down the cups with it, your breasts spilling out of their confines. He ducks his head down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You whimper.

“God, Francisco,” you whine, riding him harder, spurred on by the way he laves his tongue over your pebbled nipple, gently catching and pulling it between his teeth. He switches to your other breast, his other hand anchored to your hip to guide your motions. His cock kisses that spot deep in you that only Frankie and Joel have ever found, and the feeling rips another moan from you.

“That’s it, fucking ride my cock,” Frankie pants. You lean forward, changing the angle a bit until your clit catches on his belly, which triggers your pussy to clench in pleasure.

“Oh god, you feel so fucking good in me,” you moan, grinding down harder onto him, massaging your walls with his thick shaft and your clit with the friction of his course hairs. “You fill me up so well.”

“Softest, wettest pussy I’ve ever fucked, I swear,” Frankie slurs, losing himself in the feeling of you wrapped around his length. “You feel like silk on me, nenita.”

Your clit swells with the stimulation of every roll of your hips, making your cunt clench around Frankie. He lets out a whine. Your brows furrow in concentration as you seat his length in you as far as it will go, and he nearly chokes when he feels his tip kiss your cervix.

“You’re so deep in me,” you moan, working yourself on his shaft. “Tell me how good this pussy feels.” You’re desperate to hear him lose it.

“You feel amazing,” he whines, his dick hardening and swelling even more as he approaches his high. It feels like he’s lighting up every nerve ending inside of you. At this point, Frankie’s lap is dripping with your arousal, slick squelching and slapping sounds as thick in the air as the smell of sex. Both of you are covered in a sheen of sweat. You can tell he’s getting closer, so you start fucking him harder, driving his cock deeply into you, to the point where you feel like you’re beginning to meld together, a writhing, wet, hot mess of pleasure.

“Yeah?” you ask rhetorically, riding him harder and harder. “Are you going to come for me, Francisco?” You continue to use his full name, knowing how much it turns him on when you say it. “I want you to fuck me so full of your cum; I wanna be dripping for days. I want you to fill me up so bad.”

“Oh fuck, nenita,” Frankie whines as he loses himself in your heat. “I’m gonna fuck you so full. Gonna give you all of my cum. Gonna put it right where it belongs, deep in this cunt.” You roll your hips harder, your tits bouncing with the effort, and Frankie fucking whimpers. Your pussy tightens at the sound. It always turns you on so much when he loses control.

“Do it, Francisco. Fill me up,” you pant, your own orgasm barrelling towards you. Frankie’s thighs begin to quiver under you, and you know he’s almost there, too. You grip the base of his skull with one hand while the other steadies yourself on his shoulder, and then you lean down, nipping his earlobe. He whimpers again, completely fucked out.

“Come for me, now,” you beg in a whisper.

Frankie shouts as his grip on you turns to steel, and at the first hot spurt of his cum inside of you, your orgasm rips through you. Your cunt clenches, prolonging his pleasure, as your release soaks Frankie’s lap and his cum paints your insides. You both cry out at the feeling, foreheads pressed together. Frankie leans in and latches his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss.

As you both come down from your highs, you lean into Frankie, and he rubs his hands along your back soothingly. The softest kisses pepper your face, your sweat cooling down your skin while you both heave breaths, trying to recover. You weave your fingers into Frankie’s damp curls and scratch his scalp.

“Couldn’t wait ‘til we got to the rental, huh?” you quip.

Frankie huffs a laugh and hums in pleasure at your ministrations on his scalp. “Not when you tempt me with those dresses, baby. You know what flashing me a peek under your skirt does to me.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” you tease, nipping his ear.

He jerks away at the ticklish sensation, then gently bites your shoulder in retribution. “Such a tease, hermosa,” he tuts. You both begin to untangle your sweat-slick limbs, and you slip yourself off of Frankie’s cock, groaning quietly in contentment as you stem the flow of his spend from your pussy with your fingers, shuffling around, seeking your panties. Finding them in the front seat, you slip them on, pressing the fabric into your cunt to keep yourself full of Frankie. Both of you get back into the front seats.

You fix your hair as you settle back in but pause, looking up to see your boyfriend staring at you, an achingly soft expression painting his whole face. Amber eyes, golden flecked irises, striking deep to your soul.

Breath catching in your throat, vulnerability rolling through your nerves. That flutter in your heart once again.

Before you can process anything, Frankie shakes his head slightly, as if emerging from a daze. “Well I’ve certainly worked up an appetite,” he quips, squeezing your knee gently. “Let’s get some of that clam chowder.” You nod, breathing deeply and shoot him a crooked little smile. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and then puts the Jeep into gear.

A couple hours later, you arrive at the rental, Frankie bringing both of your bags in. You close the door behind the two of you, kicking off your shoes, and survey the place. A small kitchenette to the left, cute velour loveseat to the right, and through adorable French doors, the king size bed, dressed in the fluffiest looking bedding. A dresser and full-length gilded mirror complete the decor in the bedroom, everything fitting perfectly into a cottagecore dream aesthetic. The last of the natural lighting filters through the windows.

Frankie drops a quick kiss to your forehead. “I need to scrub off the road,” he says in passing while stripping off his clothes. “Why don’t you relax a bit before we decide what we’re doing for the rest of the night?”

You snort out a laugh. “Frankie, it’s not like we’re on the Oregon Trail in a covered wagon. We’ve been driving in an air-conditioned car, Mr. Drama Queen.” He laughs and tosses his hat at you, disappearing into the en suite bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Settling into the plush bed, you set Frankie’s hat on the dresser and grab your phone to catch up on messages missed during the drive, when suddenly your phone starts buzzing. Joel’s name flashes onto the screen, and you hit the green button to accept the video call.

“Hey, baby,” you coo, grinning widely as Joel’s handsome tan face appears on your screen. His umber & silver hair is damp and slicked back, likely fresh out of the shower just like Frankie will be in a few minutes. The headboard of the bed you share with Joel sits behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?”

Joel chuckles. “What, can’t a man call his pretty wife just to see her face and tell her that he loves her?”

You giggle. “I suppose that’s a good enough reason.” His eyes soften, and then flick down the screen.

“I see you’re wearing that sundress I like so much,” Joel muses.

You smile, extending the arm holding your phone so he can see more of your body. “Oh, this little number?” You shift onto your knees, spreading them wide and running your other hand teasingly slow from your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, across your waist, and then down your thigh, retracing your path slightly to lift the hem of the skirt. “Frankie hadn’t seen it before, and he likes it just as much as you do.” Your cheeks flush at the memory of Frankie taking you in the car, and Joel hums lowly when you break eye contact with him.

“Did you and Frankie get up to some fun earlier, baby?” You pause, unsure of where this is going, and then nod your head.

“Words, sweetheart,” Joel reminds you.

“Yes, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly.

He nods approvingly, a small smirk gracing his plush lips. “I could tell, you got that faraway look in your eyes like you do when you’re thinking about me fucking you.” Joel shifts his seat on the bed, and you recognize the movement as a sign that he’s getting turned on. This is a new development, you think to yourself. He’s rarely asked about sex with Frankie before.

“Did Frankie treat your pussy right? Did he fill you up?” You nod again, your core beginning to pulse as you affirm with your words, and Joel groans.

“Let me see it.”

You choke on your breath. “What?”

This was not something Joel had ever asked before.

“You heard me, darlin’,” Joel asserts, his eyes darkening. “Let me see that pretty pussy full of Frankie’s cum.”

A full-body shiver ripples through you. “Yes, Joel,” you murmur obediently, sliding off the bed to retrieve the phone stand you use often when you’re away from Joel. You set it up on the dresser near the bed, the front-facing camera angled advantageously for him while allowing you to see him as well. Coming back into frame, you slowly unzip your dress, letting it fall to the floor. You slide your damp panties down, the heady scent of Frankie’s cum wafting up from your heated core. Joel leans back and lets out a low groan.

You climb back onto the bed once naked, noticing Joel’s espresso brown eyes have deepened to the color of a moonless night, his pupils dilated in desire. Putting your back to the camera, you get onto your hands and knees, canting your hips forward and ass back. You rest your forearms on the bed, looking back at the camera, and snake one hand between your legs to spread your pussy open with your fingers. Joel moans unabashedly at the view, your glazed pussy glinting in the light, Frankie’s milky spend coating it and gathering at your opening. He watches as your cunt clenches at the sound.

“Fuuuuuck, darlin’, that little pussy always looks so fuckin’ good when it’s covered in cum, don’t it?” Joel asks rhetorically, running one hand down his chin through his greying scruff. You whimper in response, the movement of your contracting walls pushing a thin stream of Frankie’s cum out from deep in you, dripping onto the bed sheets. This feels so debauched, filthy, and you are incredibly turned on by Joel’s response to the sight of another man’s cum decorating your most intimate parts.

“God, if I was there I would be rubbin’ that cream all over your swollen little clit,” Joel drawls. “Can see her peekin’ out at me. Can you flip over? Wanna see you touch her for me.” You oblige, gathering the pillows to prop yourself up, and lean back against them as you butterfly your thighs open for your husband. Holding his gaze, you slowly trace your outer lips with your fingers, feeling the slide of Frankie’s spend lubricate your movements. You swirl your fingertips through the mess of slick and cum at your entrance, then glide them up to the pearl of your clit, throbbing in anticipation. At the first touch, your breath catches on the edge of a jagged little moan.

“So sensitive already?” Joel teases, and you see him shift in his seat at the same time that the rustle of his pants tells you he’s pulling them down. The thought of him needing to touch himself at the sight of your messy cunt makes a pang of need course through your core.

“Let me see it, baby,” you whisper hoarsely towards the phone, desperate to see the physical proof of his desire for you, for the sight of Frankie’s desire for you. The frame jostles a bit as Joel sets his phone up on the phone stand you have in your bedroom for times like these. It’s not the first time you have had video sex while apart and it certainly won’t be the last.

And as Joel walks backwards toward the bed again and into frame, you barely stifle a gasp.

His cock is an absolute marvel, still is after a decade of being together. Thick, long, and uncut, the sight of him always makes your mouth water and your pussy slick. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, stroking his length languidly, the gleaming cockhead a flushed pink, disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin. His gray, worn sweatpants are pulled just under his ass. Heavy, sizable balls drape over the waistband. You’ll never get tired of the sight.

“See somethin’ y’like, angel?”’Joel teases, his Texas twang always thicker when he’s aroused. His thick thighs are spread wide as he sits on the bed.

“Yes… everything,” you breathe, starting to rub your pussy again.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel tuts, and your fingers immediately stop. “I didn’t tell you that you could touch yourself. Let’s wait until Frankie can join us to have fun.” Your body flushes with more arousal; Joel’s never asked to include Frankie before. But then again, you’d never asked if he wanted to.

As if on cue, the bathroom door squeaks open and Frankie appears, freshly showered, dark curls dripping a bit onto his broad, golden shoulders. A white towel is wrapped around his narrow waist, and he takes a moment to assess what he’s walked into.

“Babygirl, are you getting started without me?” Frankie purrs as he strides towards you, then pauses when he realizes your phone is on the stand and positioned right at your dripping cunt.

“Hey, Frankie,” Joel’s voice floats warmly into the room. “I figured you’d want to watch our girl play with herself, so I made her wait.”

Our girl.

You shiver in arousal — and something else — at the moniker. Your eyes flick to Frankie, a smirk beginning to grace his lips but a bit of hesitation in his eyes. This was all new to him, too.

Frankie moves towards the armchair situated in the corner of the room, behind where you had your phone set up. He was already adjusting himself, clearly aroused, which you took as a good sign.

“Frankie, are you okay with this?” you inquire, trying to gauge his consent to what was unfolding. “If not, I can —“

“Yes,” Frankie grits out hoarsely. “I want to watch you with Joel.” His tone sets off another wave of pleasure through your nerves.

Joel chuckles, his voice smooth and deep as whiskey. “Well, darlin’, give us a show. Go on ‘n pet that pretty lil’ pussy for us.” Planting your heels on the bed, you use your fingers to spread yourself open as another trickle of Frankie’s previous release leaks its way out of you. Both men groan at the sight. Scooping it up, you glide your way up to your throbbing clit, starting to circle it just the way you like. A moan leaves your parted lips; you tilt your head back while you work yourself. Your other hand moves to pinch and thumb a nipple, drawing it into a tight bud.

“Mmm, good girl,” Joel praises you. His hand starts pumping his cock once again at the same time Frankie palms himself through the fluffy towel. Frankie’s eyes flick from you to the phone, still trying to feel out the dynamics of the three of you. But both men can’t keep their eyes away from your soft pussy and swollen clit, glazed in your arousal and Frankie’s cum. Holding both of them in rapture while seeking your own pleasure is a heady power trip that wraps its silken claws into your brain.

You feel like a goddess.

“Joel,” you moan, writhing in pleasure on the bed, but not quite where you want to be. “I need more.”

“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” Joel croons through the phone, the soft fapping sound of him working his cock audible.

“I want… more,” you whine, mind so hazy with pleasure that you can’t even articulate your desires. “Please.”

“Hmmm,” Joel responds, slowing down to consider his options. You look up in impatience just as a wicked smirk crosses his face.

That look always means trouble.

“Y’told me how good Frankie is at goin’ down on you,” Joel continues, “so why don’t you let him show me?” You hear Frankie’s breath choke in his throat in surprise as a whimper escapes your lips at Joel’s words. Frankie’s eyes dart from yours to the phone and back.

“Frankie?” you hear Joel say while your eyes remain on your boyfriend. “Would you be okay with that? Would you show me how hard you make our girl come with that tongue’a yours?” You let out a little moan at Joel’s filthy words, and Frankie groans involuntarily at the sight of another dribble of his cum escaping your pussy.

“Oh, baby, you’re still drippin’?” Joel coos at you. “Frankie must’a stuffed you so full’a his cum. Do you like eating yourself outta her sweet cunt, Frankie?”

In a flash, Frankie enters the frame as he spreads your legs further apart and wedges his shoulders between them, leaving enough space for Joel to watch the action behind him. “I fucking love it,” Frankie growls in response, immediately running his tongue in a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit, tasting himself and you as he swallows every drop of cum and slick you released. You throw your head back, keening.

“Damn,” you hear Joel choke out, his hand moving faster on his cock at the sight of Frankie diving headfirst into your cunt. Eager to prove his skills, Frankie works you up rapidly to your orgasm, your moans pitching higher and higher within a minute. He swirls his tongue over your clit, then slides two of his fingers inside to the last knuckle, aided by your copious slick and the remnants of his cum. Your back arches off the bed from the sensation as you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, angel,” Joel grits out, his breath coming faster. “He eatin’ you good?”

“Yessss, Joel,” you whimper, your hand holding Frankie’s head firmly to your center. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

Frankie moans encouragingly, reverberating across your cunt, and the tether inside your core snaps. You stutter out a groan, punctuated each time your pussy spasms with your release on Frankie’s fingers. The man between your thighs laps it all up, moaning in delight. He pulls back, kissing the inside of each thigh, and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel purrs at you as you catch your breath. You hear a slightly pained groan, and look at the screen to see Joel gripping the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. Hmm, that’s odd, you think. Joel usually comes when he’s decided he’s done making me come.

The realization hits you a split second before Joel’s deep, commanding voice spits out, “Again, Morales.”

Ohhhh, fuck.

You whip your head around when you hear Frankie suck in a breath as he stares at the phone, his chest heaving. Looking down, you see his cock achingly hard under his towel, his neck flushed with arousal. Frankie turns to you, his onyx eyes shimmering ferally. You know following orders gets him going, but you’re surprised that Joel clocked that about him instinctively.

In a split second, Frankie’s spread both of your legs again, pinning you open obscenely wide by your thighs. His tongue immediately begins to fuck into your pussy, the strong muscle prodding and curling just right. Your head slams into the soft mattress, a squeal leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure. With every thrust of his tongue, you feel Frankie grinding desperately into the bed, trying to stem the intense arousal building below his waist.

“Talk to me, darlin’,” Joel’s voice floats in your ear, pulling you out of the cloud of intense pleasure momentarily. “Tell me how good Frankie feels.”

“He’s so good,” you moan, alternating playing with your nipples and curling your fingers in the bedding. “His tongue feels so good in my pussy.”

“Is he as good as me?” Joel asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s not a hint of jealousy, just charged curiosity.

“Yes, baby,” you coo, gasping as Frankie moves his tongue back to your clit and slides his fingers back into you, reaching that spot deep in you that makes your eyes roll back. “So good. Just… different.”

Joel lets out a quiet growl, his voice dripping with sex. “Good. Your pussy deserves the best.”

“Frankie,” Joel commands. Frankie lifts his head from your center, moving his thumb to replace his tongue on your clit, making your back arch again. “Have you made her squirt before?”

“Yeah,” Frankie breathes, looking back at you. “She’s so beautiful when she does it.”

“Good,” Joel rumbles. “Make her squirt for us.”

Frankie nods once, then pulls his fingers out slightly until he hits the spongy spot near the entrance of your pussy. He starts swirling the tips of his fingers against it, pressing his other hand down gently but firmly on your lower belly above your pubic bone, and then lowers his head to suck your clit back into his mouth. You keen, your body folding in on itself from the intense pleasure. Frankie moans into you, but you hear a growl rip from Joel’s throat.

“Don’t you dare hide that beautiful body,” Joel demands. “Lay back and spread your legs for us.”

You comply, barely able to shift yourself open again before Frankie starts intensifying his ministrations. You hear Joel’s slick fist jerking his cock again while he coos at you and praises you, telling you how good you’re being for him and Frankie, how pretty and strong you are.

“You can take it, angel,” Joel moans with the squelching of his cock in his hand acting as an obscene background track for your pleasure. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimper, your cunt making equally debauched sounds with every thrust of Frankie’s fingers. “I’m so close. Feels so fucking good.”

Frankie presses harder on your belly and sucks your clit more fervently, and your cries pitch higher. “Oh god, Frankie, you’re gonna make me come,” you whine, toes curling and thighs beginning to shake. A desperate moan from Frankie’s mouth is muffled by your cunt, making you cry out again.

“Let go for us, darlin’,” Joel grits out, his hand a blur on the screen as he approaches his orgasm as well.

Frankie peels himself away from your drenched folds just long enough to command, “Come for us, now,” and then latches back onto your clit, sucking hard, and that’s the moment you break, nearly screaming. Frankie works you through the first wave of your orgasm with his mouth, then pulls back, slipping his fingers out of you as your release gushes out, spraying your belly, thighs, and Frankie’s torso. With every pump and slide out of your pussy, Frankie brings forth another spray of release, drenching your body and his.

You’re barely aware of Joel’s groans of pleasure in the throes of your own, but when you come back down moments later, you can hear the edge of desperation in his sounds. You look over to the phone to see him with his teeth bared, the head of his cock an angry red, his fist slick with precum and spit. More pearly liquid slowly oozes from the slit at the top.

Joel is barely keeping it together.

“Joel, honey,” you moan, “I wanna see you come.”

Joel growls. “Francisco,” he grits out. Frankie, who’s looking at you in amazement and pride, snaps his head to the phone at the sound of his full name. You see his cock twitch under the towel.

“Get our girl messy, Francisco.”

A whimper worms its way out of your throat as Frankie whines. Unashamed and blind with arousal, he whips the towel off his waist and his cock bobs, hard and thick. You hear Joel’s breath hitch. I’ll tuck that reaction away for later, you think.

Frankie kneels between the damp sheets under your thighs, spitting into his hand and fisting his cock hard and fast. His muscles flex with the intensity of feeling, breathing rapid. His grunts get louder and longer as he swiftly approaches his peak. You hear a long, low moan from the phone, Joel nearly delirious with how worked up he is over the scene playing out.

“Where?” Frankie moans, desperately trying to follow orders before he blows his load. Precum drips onto the sheets.

“Her tits,” Joel pants, “and her pussy. Paint her like a fucking picture, Frankie.”

“Oh fffuuuu—“ Frankie grits out just before he explodes, his release shooting out onto your nipples, the curves of your breasts, and then he’s aiming lower, coating your mound and pussy lips with his seed.

You’re dripping with yourself and Frankie, an absolutely debauched sight.

Suddenly you hear a shout from the phone, and turn just in time to see Joel shoot his load all over his chest, belly, and even some on his neck with how hard he’s coming. Every spurt paired with a moan; one of the prettiest sights you’ve ever seen in your life.

For a moment all you hear is the shared heavy breathing of yourself, your boyfriend, and your husband, and then Frankie is kissing your forehead, your lips, and then working his way down your body. When he goes to lick off his cum from your tits to clean you up, you groan in protest.

“Too sensitive, baby,” you plead, and Frankie acquiesces, cooing at you.

“You did so well for us, nenita,” he soothes, stroking your face and planting kisses across your eyelids. “You’re so beautiful. Let me rinse off and get you cleaned up, okay?” With your mind pleasantly fuzzy from what just transpired, you simply nod, and Frankie goes into the bathroom for supplies. You let your head roll to the side, and smile tiredly at Joel, who’s watching you with pride and love while he towels off his release from his body and hands.

“I would have licked up all that cum off you to save you from having to add another towel to the laundry,” you giggle, feeling your own juices and Frankie’s cum cooling on your torso. You run your fingers through the slick release Frankie left on your pussy, teasing your clit with the silky fluid. Your body shudders a bit with overstimulation, and Joel shakes his head.

“You just like makin’ a mess and then cleanin’ it up, you dirty girl,” he chuckles, watching you enjoy the tactile sensations.

“Stop pretending that you don’t like me like that, Joel,” you fire back with a smirk. “What is it you said exactly? Oh, right. ‘Get our girl messy, Francisco.’” You imitate Joel’s baritone, making him bark out a laugh.

“Fine, I do love seeing you drippin’, darlin’,” Joel admits. “Whether it’s my cum or Frankie’s.” You bite your lip and giggle, basking in the glow of this new era of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t expect he’d be so enthusiastic to see you with Frankie.

The door pops open, Frankie emerging with a warm, damp washcloth for you. Although you reach for it, he tuts and gently pushes your hand away, insisting on wiping you down himself. He gently strokes the cloth across your skin, softly smiling and pressing kisses to your face and body as he does. Joel’s heart warms at the sight before him, seeing how well Frankie takes care of you.

Tossing the cloth back into the bathroom, Frankie gets up from the bed. “I’m going to get some water for us. Do you want cold water to help you cool down, or your usual water cocktail?” Frankie asks, always remembering your quirky penchant for filling your insulated water bottle first with hot water until halfway, and the rest with cold.

“Water cocktail, please,” you giggle, snuggling further into the bedding.

Frankie grins, then lightly kisses your forehead, grabbing your water bottle off the bedside table in the process. He walks out, and you sigh contentedly.

“Wow, Frankie automatically includes Water Cocktail on his drink menu now, huh?” Joel chuckles.

You nod happily, grinning ear to ear. Laying your head on the pillow, you respond, “Yeah, he caught on fast. I think it was after the third week of seeing each other that he started asking if I wanted it instead of bringing me a glass of cold water. I didn’t even tell him explicitly, he just noticed me doing it.” You pause, brain pleasantly fuzzy in your post-orgasmic state.

“I… I really like him, Joel,” you whisper, slowly fading as sleep creeps to you. You blink your eyes gently at Joel, who looks at you with the softest smile on his face, like you are the linchpin of his universe.

“I know, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his heart flipping in response. “I know.”

When Frankie re-enters the room with a glass of water and your water bottle, he notices how quiet it is. You lay burrowed under the covers, gently snoring, but he notices your phone is the only one on the video call anymore. His nerves zap a bit in concern, but then he replays the recent events back in his head. Joel seemed totally tolerant - nay, enthusiastic, to include Frankie into sex earlier. He doubts Joel left because he was upset; you probably fell asleep and he needed to go. Nonetheless, Frankie pics up your phone and exits the call, tapping around until he finds your message app.

Hey, that was really fun, he types out to Joel, a tiny flutter of nerves alight in his stomach. Excited to meet you tomorrow. Have a good rest of your night. – Frankie

Staring at the words for a moment, he hits send before he can back out or second guess himself. Frankie then climbs into bed, wrapping himself around you before sleep claims him wholly.

a/n part 2: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for your patience! I had so much fun writing it and I’m proud to be able to share it with you. For those of you not familiar with Southern/Central CA, you can view photo references here: the Santa Cruz carousel, Hearst Castle, info on Ojai, and kayaking in Morro Bay.

Have thoughts/thots, feelings, SCREAMS, asks? My inbox is open! 💌

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skzddicted · 2 years ago

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Hellaur, this is my first ever request. Can you write a fic about bangchan/ han jisung/ Minho/ changbin comforting sad/hopeless reader? Im having a very hard time keeping up my grades, I've been studying for 14 hrs everyday just to ruin my most important exam. All my friends seem to do well when they're not even working as hard as me. I'm ready to study more but I keep losing hope. Idk what to do, I'm losing hope for getting into my dream University T T. Thank you so much bestie, for listening to me.

hii love i’m SO so sorry this took ages i rewrote this so many times with so many different scenarios until i was able to decide on one,,,i hope you enjoy this!! also about your exams, i can’t quite say i’ve been in your place but i can imagine what it’s like,,, maybe try to give your brain a break instead of studying even harder bcs sometimes that just exhausts you and you’ll burn out and this won’t do you any good!! please take care of yourself and i’ll be rooting for you, you can make it!!♡

[1:05pm]

genre: hs au, comfort

warnings: failure (not sure if i should put this here but just in case), use of “baby” platonically

minho+3racha x reader (friendgroup/platonic)

pls reblog if you enjoyed!!<3

the hallways were full of students with various emotions displayed on their faces.

some were jumping up and down and cheering excitedly, while, oppositely, some others looked upset and confused, a few were crying even, and some just looked like they simply did not care.

it was results day for the midterm exams you took two weeks ago.

your friends minho, chan, changbin and jisung had already checked their results on the board that was hung up and were now gathered in front of the main entrance, waiting for you to come out; however, you were a nervous wreck in the restroom trying to calm down and build up the courage to go and look at your results, trying to convince yourself that it can’t be that bad.

after what felt like an eternity of deep breaths and positive affirming, you stepped out into the crowded hallways, making your way to the boards. as soon as you got to them you started searching for your name.

and that’s when your heart dropped.

oh.

it was even worse than you had expected…?

you were on the verge of tears, hopelessness creeping up on you. you had done everything you could and yet it was still not enough. so many people who were putting less effort than you were doing much better, so why was it so hard for you?

with your head hung low, you started walking towards the exit wanting to do nothing but to go home and drown in your tears right now. well, that was until you heard your name being called as you were walking out of the building.

looking up you could see jisung, one of your best friends, practically running towards you, the rest of your friends following suit behind him.

“y/n, i passed!” he nearly yelled in your ears, while shaking you by your shoulders.

"congrats, ji” you sent him a small smile; you were genuinely happy for him but your own grades were making it hard for you to match his excitement.

multiple ‘hey’s’ from the other three boys sounded as they got closer, making you lift your hand for a little wave in response, “hi.”. and even through just a little greeting, they could already tell your mood was off.

“y/n what’s wrong? is it your results?” minho was the first one to ask, to which, you gave him a nod, feeling your tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

“oh, baby” jisung embraced you in a tight hug.

“all my efforts were for nothing, i spent weeks studying only for this to be the outcome.” you sobbed out.

“it’s okay baby, it happens sometimes.” chan tries to sooth you, “exactly, plus it’s not like this is the end for you, we still have finals and we’ll prepare well together for those, okay?” changbin adds.

“oh, don’t even remind me,” you chuckled a little, lifting your tear stained face from jisung’s chest. “yup, we don’t wanna hear nothing about school or any exams for this whole break.” minho chimed “now, how about we go get some food and go over to my place? remember? we planned a sleepover?”

right… there was something about a sleepover chan had texted you yesterday. you nodded and soon the four of you were running to catch the bus to your favorite food place.

masterlist

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luthienne · 4 years ago

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piano was my whole life from the ages 4-16. it was my entire identity. i woke up at 5 every morning to practice before school, and then several hours after too. i was preparing pieces to apply to julliard already with the help of my teacher, who was a former alumni, but then something traumatic happened to me and i couldn't play anymore without crying. it was too painful to listen to classical music for years, and then only orchestral without piano. i dropped out of high school, i never went to college. finally this last year at 24 ive been able to listen to piano again, but im very poor, unemployed, and could never afford a piano, not even a digital one. i miss it so much. i lost my sense of self when i stopped playing. no one ive met would be able to understand this pain of not playing, and i never tell people about it, but maybe you would understand. whenever i meet a pianist i feel so distraught like, i can't describe. it's so painful.

i understand this feeling so, so deeply. so painfully well. i am so sorry. your story could almost be my story. high-achieving. spent my entire young adult life pouring myself into classical singing. graduated top of my class. was accepted to multiple top conservatories/universities for grad school (mannes school of music, jacob institute of music, san francisco conservatory, boston university school of music). i made it through my graduate program, but then after i graduated the trauma i’d previously experienced caught up with me, and then more piled on. first i couldn’t sing without crying, then i couldn’t sing at all. i went from practicing five hours a day to nothing. from working with conductors from the paris opera, directors from the met, to not being able to sing a simple aria. first bc my throat would close up, then bc i lost the desire completely. i’d never thought that singing could be something that i could lose, that i could want so badly to want again. i had always been my singing and my singing had been me. i had no identity outside of music. i avoided social media bc ofc all my friends from school posted constant #thrilledtoannounce updates. i lost contact with my old professors, people who had cared about me, who had been invested in me. i was (am) drowning in student debt. i moved back home to save money. had to face my family and the questions they had about why i suddenly wasn’t singing anymore. i still haven’t told them about the trauma i went through, so they just don’t understand. my grandmother told me recently, crying, that she just wants to see me sing again, see me “make it” in opera before she dies. my dad still asks me to sing at family events and doesn’t understand why i don’t. i still can’t listen to some music, but i can finally listen to classical music again. i can finally sing again sometimes in my apartment. it’s still something fragile, something close to me that i feel terrified of sharing. i came across a tiktok of an opera singer who just sings for fun, and my heart felt like someone had gripped it and pulled it into my throat. i’ve spent the past few years trying to come to terms with it, with everything. i’m always here to talk if you want. i feel more pain about losing my singing than i do about the trauma that precipitated it. i miss my singing like i miss myself. so, yes, i do. i do understand. i’m so sorry. please know that you’re not alone in this. ♡♡♡

[do not reblog pls]

#ask #anon #trauma tw #i'm sorry this is so rambly but i wanted you to know how much you are not alone #especially as classical musicians it feels like there is so much shame attached to failure. so much grief in losing something that....#was us #that made us who we were #long post #opera tag #music study tag

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savedbystyle · 4 years ago

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right where you left me (s.s)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Warnings: just a bit of angst haha

Summary: After Endgame, Steve found himself having to return the stones. Gathered around the transporter, you were unaware that that was the last time you would see the love of your life.

A/N: Thought of this prompt today and thought I would write on it! I hope you guys enjoy, please like and reblog it it would mean a lot to me.

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me

You were walking with Steve, Bucky, and Sam to the transporter where you meet Bruce. Surrounded by tall trees and a peaceful sense of quiet, you found yourself calm and happy. You look up to see Steve looking off in the distant, lost in thought.

“Hey, you okay? Don’t worry, just take put stones back and come home to me” You tell him whilst rubbing his arm comfortingly. He always seemed to calm down, but today he was on edge. You brushed it off thinking it was because he had to go back in time, this time without his partner.

“Yeah doll, I’ll always come home to you, forever and always. Even more now that you have that ring on your finger again” Steve said with a small smile gracing his face. He looks down at you a little longer before his eyes start to tear up; “I missed you so much, those five years were hell without you”

You put your hands delicately on his face and kissed him. Breaking away you told him “I’m here now darling, and that's all that matters” He smiles at you before giving you on last kiss and moving on to talk with Bucky and Sam leaving you with a smile and hands crossed.

Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other Wages earned and lessons learned But I, I'm right where you left me

You watch Steve and Bucky talk for a little and you smile, grateful for your fiancé to have his best friend. You heard murmurs of the familiar words of ‘till the end of the line’ uttered between the two, laughing at their hundred year old antics. You watch Steve step up onto the transporter, giving a quick nod to the two before looking at you with clouded eyes you couldn’t decipher and mouthing ‘forever and always’. You smiled mouthing it back playing with the necklace he gave for your two year anniversary.

“Alright, it’s gonna be real quick for you Steve. You take however long you want and for us it will be a second. Come right back okay” Bruce told Steve. “Thank you Bruce” He said before looking back ahead.

“Alright, navigating jump point in 3... 2... and jump. Okay bringing him back in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...” You wait for Steve to reappear, only for nothing to happen. “Where is he?” You hear Sam getting scared getting a little nervous yourself, “I’m trying to bring him back okay? Lets try again... It’s not working” “What do you mean it’s not working” The two bicker only causing your throat to close up in fright wondering where your fiancé is.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight" I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on

You look to your side seeing Bucky let out a small laugh and walk away. Eyes clouded with tears you call out “Buck, what's going on?” He looks at you with pity and his eyes flicker down to the diamond ring sitting on your finger. Letting out a sigh he says “Let’s go home doll” You walk away trying not to cry right then and there until you hear Bucky call to Sam. You stop walking and look up to see an old man sitting on a bench overlooking the lake.

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it She's still 23 inside her fantasy How it was supposed to be Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it She's still 23 inside her fantasy And you're sitting in front of me

“No, no, no” You let out a strangled tear filled cry. “This cannot be happening, I-” You drop to your knees unable to believe that Steve left you for Peggy. You knew that he loved her still, but you couldn’t believe that he loved her more than he loved you.

You, who was there when Tony and him fought and he was heartbroken at the thought of leaving his best friend behind. You, who went on the run with him pleading your life to him telling him that you would stay with him and love him ‘forever and always’. You, who he spent multiple sleepless nights with, worshiping each others body and marking it as your territory. You, who he proposed to telling you that he would always come home to you because you were home. You, who he left at the transporter, cold and collecting dust.

I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair I'm sure that you got a wife out there Kids and Christmas, but I'm unaware

You pick yourself up and dust the dirt off your knees with tears pouring out of your eyes. Now you were unable to contain yourself in front of your friends who have only ever seen you as strong willed and sarcastic, but you could care less. All you could see was your Steve, if you could call him that, with gray hair and old age sitting in front of you.

You walk over to him and listen to his conversation with Sam. “So did something go wrong or did something go right?” “Something went right”. Those three words shattered you more than you could explain. You stood there like a ghost, humiliated and embarrassed. Waiting a little longer, you noticed the sun glint off of silver that graced his hand. Wincing and letting a couple more tears out, you knew that that was a wedding band. Not the one that you two wore, a new one that showed years of love and memories. Love and memories of his life with Peggy and his kids, the birthdays and christmases that were supposed to be something you two shared.

Cause I'm right where I cause no harm, mind my business If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong

After Sam walked away, you gather the courage and look up at Bucky getting a small smile of encouragement. You noticed he moved a little giving you space to sit next to him. You sat next to him and looked out on the lake. With a rush of adrenaline you asked him, “When did you stop loving me?” “Never” he instantly replied. You turned to look at him noticing that he was already looking at you. You noticed his visible aging, he now had wrinkles around his eyes and smile lines around his mouth but he was still as beautiful as he was 2 minutes ago.

“Don’t lie Steve, you wouldn't have left if you still remotely cared” You laughed bitterly and told him. Looking at him gave you a distaste that you never thought would happen. “Doll I still did love you, I just couldn't bear to live without Peggy. She was the only one to truly love me for me” Your heart broke at his words.

“So I didn’t love you? Was I lying when I told you that in my mind there was a string tying me to you? When I told you that I would die for you? When I told you countless times that you were it for me? I guess it was, Steve. I guess I did lie because I don't love you, I absolutely despise you”

You took the ring off of your finger and dropped it on his lap. “Even though I lied, you tricked me. You told me things that turned out to be a hoax and that is much worse than a lie. Especially coming from you Steve” You stood up walking away when he called for you, “Doll...” You turn around to see him getting up with a sad expression as he looked at you as if begging for you to tell him its okay so he didn’t face the consequences.

“Loose the nickname Rogers” You snapped “You can't beg for forgiveness when even you know you don’t deserve it. I guess Tony was right about you, you really are nothing but a liar” You walked away from him through the tall trees and woods that surrounded you, hoping you conveyed that you were beyond enraged with his lies, but deep down you knew your heart would always be his. And if he really wanted to find you, you would be right where he left you.

I'm right where you left me You left me no, oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever You left me You left me no, oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

AHHH GUYS! I really hope you enjoyed this one! I had so much fun writing it :D pls leave comments on what you think and like reblog pls its MUCH appreciated

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers

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bopbopstyles · 4 years ago

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GOOD TO ME // AN EXTRA FOR THE ONLY EXCEPTION

RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 2.2k of straight smut

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK TO JOIN THE TAGLIST

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: this occurs sometime around chapter 8! if you haven’t read the fic, please do that first, as this does contain some spoilers :)

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

It was the end of February when Y/N called out his name from the ensuite bathroom as he laid on the bed, scrolling through his Instagram feed to start the morning. “Yeah, love?” He sat up, locking his phone. He could see her through the open door, her standing in front of the mirror, hands pulling on her bare skin.

“Am I still attractive?”

Harry felt like his world had bottomed out at the thought of her not thinking he thought she was attractive. “Stop that,” he said, standing up and walking over to where she stood. He pulled away her hands and found her eyes in the mirror. “You’re more beautiful to me with every passing day.”

He brushed away the tears that nicked at the corners of her eyes. “My body just feels so…different.”

“It’s gorgeous,” he told her, running his hands down her naked body. “First of all, you’ve always been the more beautiful girl in any room. But now you’re carrying my child,” he murmured into her shoulder where he pressed a line of kisses, nipping at the juncture of her throat. “And there’s nothin’ more beautiful than that.”

Her bobbed back against his shoulders, eyes catching his. “Kissy?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, connecting their lips gently. “Now come on, will you let me show you how beautiful you are to me?”

“What did you have in mind?” She asked, hands falling to his ass, squeezing roughly into his skin.

He caught her top lip in his teeth, the groan that felt from her mouth ricocheting in the room. “Got a couple ideas.”

“H,” she mumbled, “I’ve got work in an hour.”

He groaned against her skin fingers digging into her hips. “I just want to fuck you, is that too much to ask?”

“Apparently so,” she said, turning around so she could properly kiss him. “But if it makes you feel any better, you can do whatever you’d like with me when I get home.”

“Ooh,” he said, hands grabbing at her breasts making her jump. “I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you might.” She dropped a light smack to his ass that made his head snap up. “Now let me finish getting dressed.”

He didn’t budge though. “Did you just slap my ass?”

“Yeah.” She turned, pulling her hair into a ponytail so she could wash her face.

When she bent down to wash off the cleanser, Harry’s hands groped at the globes of her ass, hands kneading the skin. Reflexively, she rutted back against him and he moaned her name at the sight. “Never done that before,” he said, voice heavy with desire.

She lifted up, grabbing a hand towel to dry her skin. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

“Would you like me being a little rough with you?” He asked and Y/N found his eyes in the mirror. It was a genuine question—Harry had been keeping it pretty soft with her since she’d told him she was pregnant, although they never were too crazy in the bedroom. Harry was hesitant to try out new things with her, not wanting to possibly cross a line.

To his surprise, her head bobbed up and down. The thought had Harry’s skin tingling. “Little bit,” she said, a blush rising to her cheeks.

He ran a finger down her spine, loving the way she shivered under his touch. “I’ll be careful,” he reassured her. “We’ll try it out tonight after work.” With a kiss to her cheek, he left her standing in the bathroom, knees soft at the thought of his hands on her skin.

Y/N couldn’t help that she spent the whole day squirming for his hands on her body. She blamed it on the hormones and the increased sex drive that her doctor had told her about. She blamed it on the fact that Harry texted her a photo of his hands, rings and all, multiple times though out the day because he was bored and horny, just like her. She blamed it on the fact that work was boring that day and all she wanted was to be at home, with him.

So by the time she walked through the door, her panties were wet—there was no doubt about it. She heard him humming in the living room, the soft strum of his guitar. “Hi love,” he said, setting down the guitar as she entered the room.

“I want you,” she said, beelining straight for the stairs.

“Fuck me.” He was on her heels in seconds, following her up the stairs to their room like a puppy waiting for its treat. Which, she thought to herself, he kind of was.

Hands in her hair and lips pressed together, Harry backed her into the bed. She crawled backwards, almost begging him follow her up the bed with her body. The duvet crinkled under their bodies as Harry pressed into her, all of their clothes still on but the feeling of his dick against her making her whimper helplessly.

“Been thinkin’ about me all day?” He mumbled against the sweet of her breast, which he had exposed by pulling at the neck of her shirt. “Been thinking about my hands on your beautiful smooth skin?”

Her hips bucked into his without meaning to, her body responding to him on its own. “Yes,” she begged him, “please, H.”

Harry didn’t want to make his pretty girl wait. He made quick work of his clothes and then hers, kissing a brutal line down her body that had his name tumbling from her mouth in a chorus of ecstasy. “Want you on your hands and knees,” he said, nipping at her belly button that hadn’t quite poked out yet, but would eventually. He looked forward to that day. “Think you can do that for me, baby?”

She scrambled to follow his directions. The sight of her on her knees, fingers curled into the sheets, hair draped over one shoulder as she looked back at him, had Harry tugging her hips back against his dick, rubbing the length of himself against her slit. He hissed at the sensation—he had been hard for her practically all day, even tugged himself off to the thought of her like this on their bed after she had left for work. It hadn’t done much to sedate his desire and now it was rearing its head, begging and begging for more.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” he said to her, soft circles to her back, “or if your arms start to hurt, okay?” She nodded, letting him know she was okay, that she would communicate with him, and Harry took a deep breath before kneading into the skin of her ass.

He loved how her body had changed during her pregnancy, but her ass was possibly one of his favorite things. The extra weight she had gained from their baby had made her rounder than before and the sight of it never ceased to make him hard. He bent down, kissing the skin of her right cheek, nipping with his teeth before sucking harshly on the skin, the way she grabbed at the duvet cover spurring him on. Rings still adorned his fingers, something he had been curious to see how she responded to. She liked his rings, he knew that—always had, especially in the bedroom. This was a lot though, so he decided to go easy on her the first time, not wanting to push her too far.

When he brought his palm down on her ass, his eyes never left her face, wanting to make sure he didn’t hurt her. Instead, a moan ripped from her throat, head handing down from the sting of his rings on her delicate skin. “Good?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. “More.”

So he did the other cheek, looking in awe at the beginnings of an imprint on her skin. His name fell from her lips, a beg, plead for more and more. He kneaded into her skin, licked at the raw marks on her body, before slapping her again, her hips canting back into his body. His tip brushed her slit and they both hissed, Harry devastatingly sensitive from the combination of waiting all day and the sight of her ass raw from his hands. “Another?” He asked, kneading into her with his hands.

“One more.” She pressed back against him again, Harry pushing at her hips to try and keep her off of him. He didn’t want to finish before he even got inside of her.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, “‘m sensitive, please don’t.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, eyes meeting his. “This turn you on, baby?”

His head fell back, the tips of his curls meeting the warm skin at the top of his back. “You know it does.”

At the sound of her giggle, Harry brought his hand down on her skin again, the surprise of it bringing a yelp from her. And with that, he couldn’t wait any longer. He pressed two fingers inside of her, the wetness allowing him to slide in easily, a sigh leaving her mouth at the feeling. “Fuck, love, you’re so wet,” he said in awe of her. “Ready for me? All wet and ready for me inside of you?”

She bounced back on his fingers, the metal of his rings on the press of her skin, and Harry curled his fingers, pumping in and out of her at a harsh pace. He could feel her tightening on his fingers, the tell-tale pants exploding from her—she was close. “Gonna come for me?” He asked, pressing his lips to her spine, still curling his fingers inside of her. “Want to feel you come for me. Come all over my fingers, hmm?”

“Harry,” she screamed, slamming her hips into his fingers before falling apart, body collapsing on the mattress as she shook from her orgasm. He withdrew his fingers from her, slipping them in his mouth, humming from the delicious taste of her.

She was pliant in his hands as he rolled her onto her side, raising one leg so he could fit between her. He wanted to see her face when he fucked her. That was enough roughness for him, he wanted to hold her gaze as he fucked her come right back into her. Which was exactly what he did. He pushed into her in one go, her fingers scrabbling at his arms, still sensitive from her first orgasm. “Tight,” he said, pushing deep inside her. “How’re you so tight? Huh, love? God, s’like you’re made for me.”

One of her hands clenched the duvet, the other wrapped around his bicep as he fucked into her, the breathy moans from her lips an award-winning single to his ears. She was heavenly, soft and wet and begging for him, the bounce of her breasts entrancing him as he fucked into her. Y/N, his love, his life, wanting nothing but him. He bent down, arms resting on either side of her. It was awkward, limbs readjusting, but he didn’t care—he wanted her close, wanted to smell her perfume and her sweat and his body wash on her skin.

“Love you,” he grunted, her tugging his hair in response. His hips stuttered against hers—he was close. The foreplay and the waiting was a lethal combination and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. “Need ya to come again, angel,” he said, head bobbing against her skin. “Can ya?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, fingers tugging at his hair and his skin.

He took it as a sign to speed up, his hips crashing against hers, the only sound in the room was their moans and their skin slapping against each other. Inside of her, he was twitching, begging to come, but he wanted her to finish first. Loved the feeling of her clenching around him.

He lowered his mouth to her nipples, and the sensitivity of them had her pushing her chest into his face. Harry wasn’t complaining, The combination of his mouth on her breasts and his dick deep inside of her had her coming, his name a long moan in the air. The tight vice she had on him made Harry want to scream, and he panted, pushing into her once, twice, three times before he came, barely able to hold himself up. He didn’t want to crush her with his weight—she already had a baby to carry after all—so he held it together, body quivering against hers.

Then, he pulled away, kissing her head before getting up to get a cloth to clean her off with. Their come was dripping onto the duvet covers and as hot as he thought it was, she had just washed them last night. “Hold it in for me, yeah love?” He said as he walked to the bathroom.

“Tryin’,” she mumbled, hair sweaty against her forehead.

With a wet washcloth, he rejoined her on the bed, pulling her pliant legs apart so he could brush it down her center. She shook from the cold water on her hot flesh and he shushed her, a kiss to her ankle to calm her heart rate. “You okay, love? Not too much?” He tossed the cloth into the laundry and laid down next to her, pulling her body into his.

“Perfect,” she said, linking their hands together over her belly. “So good to me.”

He brushed her hair from her neck and pressed a soft kiss there. “It’s easy,” he told her, “love you so much don’t know how to be anything else.”

#Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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puzzling-investigations · 4 years ago

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Drowsy’s Guide to Germans - Part One

Hello everyone!

My name is Drowsy, this is my AA and PL sideblog, and this is a rediculous series I’m starting.

Stuff like this is not amongst my usual repertoire, but I’ve seen enough of people writing/dubbing/acting out German characters (in various fandoms) with bad German to decide an actual German should step in and do some talking and explaining. As Ace Attorney is one of the fandoms where people have multiple German-speaking characers with the possibility to converse, I decided to apply the post to this fandom (I could’ve also applied it to Overwatch, but somehow people really don’t feel like letting Mercy and Reinhardt talk German to one another).

In this multiple-part series, I will cover the following:

Different Germans (speaking English) and pronunciation advice for each (so mostly (voice) acting advice)

Things to watch when using German lingo (pronunciation/grammar bs) and terms of endearment/nicknames

Fun things about German (naming) culture you can include/watch out for.

Who is and isn’t German in AA, of the characters with “German” names, and to which degree they are.

Fun pronunciation/grammar/writing things

The sections will flow into each other a lot, I think. Most of this advice applies to any German characters you write, so you can use this for other fandoms/media, too. The first part begins under the “Read more”.

- Best of luck, Drowsy

Part 1: Different Germans (speaking English) and pronunciation advice for each

This section could probably use some additions, so if anybody wants to make them, please feel free to reblog and add!

Exhibit 1A: The International

In general, modern-day Germans usually learn English at school and have this lightly-accented pronunciation that is almost flawless, but there’s just something... Wrong. Something unplaceable yet absolutely German about it. Most English teachers here talk like this, although some lean in one or the other accentual direction (usually British or American).

The International has had a lot of exposure to the English language and also knows most of the pronunciations if he’s familiar with the word/related words. They might have grown up with someone who speaks English or be otherwise close to someone who speaks, if they didn’t learn at school.

If you find yourself dubbing/writing an International, be careful to keep your own and the character’s accent and neutral. Unless they’re “quirky” they won’t use random German words except for when they can’t remember the proper word. They’ll make an effort to speak English as well as possible as to not hinder the native speakers around them. If the character gets angry or excited, you can perhaps loosen that decree a little. Here’s the best sounds/grammar mistake to do it with:

- “Th” in any way, shape or form that isn’t “t”-sounding. Germans have a big problem with the “th” in “birthday”, which often turns out as “birs-stay”, a cause of much distress for me in primary school and kindergarten, where I would aggressively put weight on “th” and yell at people who should know better.7

- Idioms and figures of speech: Many of these overlap in German and English, but some are quite different. For example:

“to stand in a queue” is “to stand snake” in German. - Just beause you speak the language well, it doesn’t mean that you know all the idioms and figures of speech.

“to brush one’s teeth” is “to clean one’s teeth” in German. As a bilingual, this is a stupid little mix-up I often make, along with “to blow one’s nose”, which I turn into “to clean one’s nose” (I’ve done this in both languages).

Exhibit 1B: The Stereotype

This is your classical, Bond villain-esque German accent. Lots of “zat”, “ve”, and “neeeeiinn!” will be featured in their speech.

This German is probably more on the old side and has either has/had horrible English teachers, no exposure to the language whatsoever, is making an effort to learn but are only going off reading or a mix of some or all of the three.

But these Germans can have varying degrees of skill with English grammar and vocabulary, which almost allows for sub-sections in this “article” – one might have read a lot of English books and studied grammar and vocabulary, but has never actually talked to a native speaker before. They other has heard native speakers before but just cannot/will not adjust their pronunciation because they cannot see how it differs from what they heard or believe they know how to pronounce stuff properly, because they are ‘hashtag better zan yoo’.

Exhibit 1C: The near-native speaker

They grew up/spent a lot of time talking English with a native speaker/hearing them speak. They might be better at speaking the language, but may have problems with English writing as they’ve learned by the hearsay. If you’re doing such a character, let them make spelling mistakes. They’ll make mistakes when reading stuff out loud, possibly repeating the word in the correct pronunciation once they’ve recognised it from its written form.

Exhibit 1D: The bilingual

This German is almost the same as the near-native and the International, but with one difference: They have an accent from within the English-speaking world and make no mistakes in pronuncitation or grammar, only perhaps in some of the less ovious spellings - like any English speaker. They’ll have no problems reading out loud (unless they have social anxiety or dislexia, I guess). But they will be victim of the classic bilingual pitfalls - forgetting random, often mundane words, using words from one language in the other with said other language’s grammar, the likes.

For example: My older brother has been described as “A German trying to sound British”, but is also slightly Amarican-sounding due to spending years of study in the States.

So, perhaps, he could fall under the “Interntional” category, but his correctness and lack of proper German accent make him unviable. - He does not have to try to speak/write/read proper English, unlike the Internation and the near-native, because he already does.

On the other hand, I have been described as sounding very British. This is mostly due to me getting more exposure the language thanks to a bilingual friend I met in 7th gade with whom I did and still do speak English on a regular basis. My sisters are very much a mix. My eldest sounds posh and very much like a speech sample from an Oxford Dictionary, the other is rather uplacable. We all cannot fall under categories 1A or 1C because we never “learned” English - we just spoke it and learned it at the same time as German, not being exposed to actual “bad” English until several years later.

#ace attorney #german #writing advice #and by someone who is tired of exaggerated German accents bc most Germans don't talk like that #a friendly advice columnn by somebody who has read Liebling in all lowercase letters too many times

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unforestalledreturn-a · 4 years ago

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HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED: My speed can vary depending on my muse for a particular thread, but unless stated otherwise, I will reply to a thread no longer than a week. If it has been over a week, then I a) lost the thread b) my tracker borked c) forgot to hit ‘post’.

REPLIES: As stated above, I try to reply to my role plays within a week, although more often than not I respond within a day. If you see that I have responded to someone’s thread multiple times but not yours, it just means I have a good muse for it at the time. It does not mean I like you, or our thread any less. If I have not responded within a week, this is your invitation to message me on Tumblr or on my discord. So many threads have been eaten by the void and it can be hard for me to keep track of them all. Replies range from 2-5 paragraphs. Rarely do replies grow longer (but they do on occasion). I do not mind shorter replies, but if I have spent a good afternoon making something nice, it is not encouraging to receive the role play equivalent of ‘k’. Small note: If a thread has not been responded to in over a month, I do untrack it from my thread tracker. I would keep it forever, but due to Tumblr changes, there are only so many threads I can track at a time. This does not mean I have dropped the thread. It just means I may need a quick message that you are still interested in the thread.

STARTERS: You wanna write me a starter? With or without plotting I am 10000% cool if we are mutuals. And if we are not, it does not mean I do not wish to interact with you. I do not pay attention to my notifications, so I am not always aware of new follows. You are always welcome to come into my messages and be like: “YUKA PLS I DESIRE THE THREADS”. I don’t scare easy :) If you are not comfortable writing starters, I am more than happy to make one. While I do not make starters out of the blue, I will if requested. My starters tend to be around 5-6 paragraphs long to set up the background and the like. I do not expect replies to match this.

INBOX: Go for it! I do not know of a single person who does not like getting inbox surprises. Almost all the memes I have reblogged are always open (tagged with #meme). IC random interactions are also delightful. If made a thread, however, I ask that we move it to keep things nice and tidy.

SELECTIVITY: I am not overly selective. But there are times where I may not be interested in a thread and may even prioritize certain threads over others. When it comes to OCs I am a little more cautious and do need background information to start interactions. This is NOT a mutuals only blog. Some starter calls/inbox calls will be mutuals only, but those are specifically tagged.

WISHLIST: My wishlist is under the tag #wishlist.

HONEST NOTE: I am here to have fun. I do not do drama, I do not do call-outs or police people over the morality of roleplay. You will see intense themes on this blog. I do NOT tag triggers automatically. If, however, you like the content of my blog but there is something that genuinely upsets you, I WILL tag on request. Just shoot me a message. But honest and genuinely-- I do not tolerate hate. If towards me or someone I know of, I will not interact. Roleplay is a hobby, not a chore, not competition, not a test of morality. If there is something you dislike about my blog to the extent you would be inclined to engage in dramatic, or hate-inciting behaviors, please unfollow me.

Finally, and on a more positive note-- I love to roleplay. I love to write and test my creativity. So if you even have an inkling of wanting to interact but have no idea how PLEASE TALK TO ME! We can brainstorm together and come up with a nice plot. And if it does not work out? If you lose interest but feel really bad about dropping a thread? IT IS OK! I am here to have fun, not make you dread being on your dash. I do not take offense if you do not reply. While it is really nice to have a heads up, it is not necessary. Again, fun first.

TAGGED BY: stolen from @sadistic-second

TAGGING: Continue the thievery >:D

#outofego #psa #rules #long

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imperialsea-a · 5 years ago

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ELIZABETH’S IN-DEPTH RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET.

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: Rem (not that blue-haired anime girl or DN, it’s from my old blog!) OOC Contact: Contact me through the Tumblr IM system or my Discord! My Discord is: imperialsea#1818. Please tell me your URL if you message me there so I know who you are!

Now, onto the heart of the post!

♛ Who the heck is my muse, anyway? Elizabeth Eva Alexandria Cross, the only biological daughter of Kaien Cross, her father (a canon vk char), and Eva Liliya Cherie Cross, her mother (an oc muse)! Elizabeth is a vampire hunter by blood like all in her family before her! But, shh! Your character isn't supposed to know that . . . unless they're also a hunter . . . or a perhaps a vampire (since her family from both sides are famous hunters, but even then they don't have to know she's a vamp killer if you don't want them to) . . . or they're some sort of ally to her / the hunters association since she can't just tell anyone her actual work on a whim. Where she's from, the existence of vampires are a secret from most of humanity and it's her job to kill the dangerous people-hurty ones and keep that nice and secret so as to avoid a world war! 'Nothing about her is complicated at all', I say, lying through my teeth like Bethy does to society every day by keeping her job and true lifestyle hidden :'D

Further information below the cut, please take time to read if you’re stuck on what to plot and how Bethy operates!

♛ Points of Interest: - She was born and raised to fight against unruly beasts and composed foes alike. Despite her youth, she's a one-woman powerhouse and is not afraid to take herself down with an opponent if she deems it necessary. She's like the Smash player who hits the fake smash ball to take out an enemy on their last legs, even at the expense of her own life. She'll do it! Except in Smash she'd probably just win the match because she had an extra life and not, you know, not die forever for real in a last grand battle.

- She's got vamp genes all over the place and is rare among hunters. She's biologically immortal like a Pureblood despite not being a vampire herself and is living testimony of what her predecessors took from Purebloods both by honorable bestowal of blood from the mysterious Hooded Woman, and straight up [insert painting of Jupiter Devouring His Son here]. Her great grandparent is 3k+ years old, her father is 200+ for devouring his own twin-- it's messy as mythology, but anime :'D She herself is only 18 on default though (19 in K Crossover--), the youngest of her entire bloodline, and she can still be slain in battle even if she is much hardier than a typical human being. She's also sensitive to auras, and capable of sensing vampires.

- Things characters might notice? She's ghostly pale and kind of looks like she stepped out of The Last Unicorn. She looks cold, sophisticated, and vaguely otherworldly-- she really doesn't radiate the friendliest of vibes unless she's doing something she loves, and the calculated yet seemingly effortless grace of her movements are prominent in and outside of combat. She is descended from an ancient royal line, and those posh, stuffy mannerisms and formal speech pattern live on through her even if the Adrasteian monarchy no longer exists.

- She truly isn't a trigger-happy person, whatever the title of 'hunter' implies, and keeps a level head in most situations. Sure, Bethy looks as if she could bite someone's head off and can display some seriously threatening flashes of anger, but she's not going to do something rash and will only resort to drawing her weapons in a serious matter. She's here to save lives, maintain peace, and keep order, not disrupt it and set off a war! No pressure on her, right?

- She is also notably, NOT a high school student, though she may be mistaken for a high school senior or young college student since her age fits the bill. Elizabeth actually graduated from her high school at age sixteen and took to hunting full-time immediately after. She was convinced to slow it down by her grandparents and began preparing for college when her assignment at Cross Academy arrived and, uh, pretty tragically, hasn’t been able to attend any classes due to her work demands. Come to choose between the world and personal fulfillment? Her conscience only let her have one choice; a hunter must hunt.

♛ What they’ve been up to recently: - Work. There's hardly a time when this girl isn't working or planning what to do next, and the workload only grows after the previous president is outed as a dishonorable, self-serving traitor to the hunters. She's seriously injured after trading blows with him and is promptly benched to deal with the fallout and mental agony, but she's back within a year (and in K's crossover? Only six months later!).

- Having said that, Elizabeth does have days off and will spend them quietly with her friends, or alone with music and a rejuvenating swim.

- Depending on the time in her life? Her life circumstances vary drastically-- she can go from a young huntress travelling on her own as duty demands, or she can be a mother of five children and trusted right hand of the new hunter president, Zero Kiryuu. She lives for a long time, so she's always up to something! And of course, she's always motivated to fight for a better future.

♛ Where to find them: - Aside from work, check the beach! Or find her on methods of cross-continental transportation since she travels around the world for her job (she walks whenever possible, so it's rare to see her on a bus, but she’ll begrudgingly take one or a train)! Otherwise, a place like an aquarium, clothing store, or coffee shop, or any place in a city is your best chance.... write w me pls... q-q she is Around Somewhere.

- If not found in any of those places and your character is someone inside Cross Academy, she can be found there, helping the prefects in some way and is familiar enough with the building to help out new students if they ask.

♛ Current Plans: - Elizabeth is chained to her work as a hunter for as long as she draws breath, or until there is no need for her to end hostile vampires. Her ultimate goal is to keep the world from falling into a repeat, all-out war between vampires and humanity. Her living and family situation might change through the years, but that will always be her primary drive-- she's got an indomitable will.

♛ Desired Interactions: - please ovq

- In all seriousness, I’m up for pretty much anything. She needs more friends, more enemies, people to protect, people to be protected by, people she looks up to, people who legitimately unnerve her, everything! I just don’t feel comfortable killing her. Elizabeth fought really hard to get her future and deserves to find comfort after her entire childhood-young adult life was spent thinking the only thing of worth she had was her role as a huntress. I do really, really love angst though, so anything else goes, really c:

♛ Offered Interactions ( please sit tight for this! it will be divided into multiple sections! ) : - IF YOUR CHARACTER IS HUMAN: - She’ll assume your muse is an average civilian until shown otherwise (be it with unusual powers, whacky aura, combat prowess, or prior knowledge from a report or something-- a plot specific thing). Unless they truly know about vampires / work with the Hunters Association, Elizabeth will not be sharing any information about who or what she is without a legitimate reason (such as the human character being bitten by a Pureblood and thus is being turned into a vampire themselves). However, the other party being kept in the dark about vampires can open the door to a more relaxed Elizabeth without her professional, perfectionist mindset. She’s more likely to have a pleasant conversation with humans since they have no part in the hunt-- but in that same vein, she does aim to keep them at a certain distance and not develop a deep emotional bond (but she’s also a lot softer than she looks and acts and tends to care for others quickly, should they get along). It’s a tricky slope . . . She’s thawed out and the nicer aspects of her personality are far more prominent, but at the same time, she’s not being entirely genuine. Give her time and she’ll become more open about personal things, just, not her work.

- Applies to her K Proj. Crossover. Working with S4, Elizabeth takes some time to adjust, but ultimately loves the organization and the people within it. They’re an exception to her ‘no ties with average humans’ rule because....errr.... they’re not the average human she’s used to protecting and in that verse they’re aware of her occupation and peculiar heritage. She’s not as cold first impressions might suggest and loves Reisi’s weird af team building nights, it’s hard for her to not have a soft spot for them, even as an outsider and unofficial member (as in, she has none of the abilities the Blues have, but she has her natural abilities).

- IF YOUR CHARACTER IS A HUNTER: - Elizabeth is a known figure in hunter society; her great grandfather, grandfather, and aunt were previous heads of the organization and each are still alive at present. So, it probably makes more sense if your hunter character at the very least knows about her-- unless they’re an off-series muse in which case go wild and do what you think is best! I always did like the idea of two vampire hunters chilling together with neither one knowing the other is a fellow hunter until they’re attacked by a vamp and they’re both like ‘Oh!’

- A simple but always reliable plot idea is two hunters on a joint mission! It’s really important to know that Bethy does not take kindly to poor performance and expects her partner to take whatever assignment they have seriously. If not? Things get tundra-cold really fast-- o-o;; People’s lives are at stake and in her opinion, if a hunter wants to mope or complain about their blood-given obligation, they’re not fit to be hunters in the first place. ‘Can’t do the job? Then finish what you started with me if you have any shred of integrity, and get thee gone’ sort of thing. Otherwise, uh :’D;; she’s highly cooperative and always aims to reach the outcome with the least amount of damage.

- As a teenager, she attended a hunter-run private academy in Adrasteia for four years. If it’s possible for your muse to attend (as in, they are from a vampire hunter family and can pass the rigorous entrance exams), throw em in for a slightly younger, less stringent Bethy? A national fencing champion at the top of her classes, and great granddaughter to the legendary hellfire headmaster, Elizabeth’s not easily missed! It could be the start to an amicable relationship to carry into future interactions?

- IF YOUR CHARACTER IS A VAMPIRE: - Bluntly put, for vampires, it’s probably better to interact with Elizabeth after Cross Academy has fallen in the large battle that took place there. Her mother is revealed to have been alive and held captive as a vampire, she’s already friends with a hunter/vamp, her two friends turned out to be Purebloods, and ‘oh....my mother and father got together again and now I’ve got a younger vampire brother’ .....and her boyfriend’s half sister is also a vampire who marries the former vamp senate heir..... so...vamps everywhere; she simply accepts them as part of the family. Prior to that, while she isn’t hostile to vampires and certainly has no intention to attack a vamp unjustly, it’s not a place she’s eager to put herself in. Depending on how threatened she feels, she’ll even swallow her pride and keep her head down-- mostly.

- If your muse is a hunter-turned-vampire, she doesn’t treat them as a vampire, rather, she still sees them as a compatriot, like in the case of Zero Kiryuu. Whether or not your muse received the blood of their keeper is up to you, but in the case that they haven’t-- she’s always there to assist in granting mercy whenever the time comes :’)

- IF YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT FIT INTO ANY OF THE ABOVE CATEGORIES / REGARDING OTHER VERSES: - Please help me find something that works, I’m willing to try! Memes are incredibly helpful! Send one in, the tag is here, and we can go from there!

- My currently finished and ready-to-use Crossover Verse is K Proj., which can be read about right here.

♛ Current Open Post/s: Linked right here. There's no expiration date to these, and it doesn't matter if another person has replied to one, you are more than welcome to reply to one if it catches your eye at all.

♛ Anything else?: YEAH, wow I am so sorry that got so long. Please note that this post may be updated periodically!

#( blog info. )#( SUPER LONG but if you're lost on some plotting things and aren't from VK #this should hopefully give you an idea of Elizabeth and her interactions? She's a tough one q - q )

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