#Pope Don X

[fangirl-writes]

Who Do You Love?

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): angst

Request: I NEED MORE ANGST SO WHAT ABT THE READER IS UNSURE IF JJ LOVES HER OR NOT SO SHE BREAKDOWNS IN FRONT OF HIM AND HE REASSURES HER AND FLUFF ENDING

Notes: Man JJ and angst just go together and that’s unfortunate but a happy ending is mandatory. Also Cleo’s in here but there aren’t any season 3 spoilers. I think if this situation were actually in the show, it would be way more action-y and dramatic but I wasn’t feeling that so have this instead.

It wasn’t that JJ was a bad boyfriend. On the contrary, he was a better boyfriend than his circumstances would’ve led you to believe.

But lately it had been nagging at you; a year into the relationship and he hadn’t told you he loved you. Not once.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t said it. In fact, when you said it the first time, JJ looked like he was ready to break up with you on the spot.

But he didn’t and you just assumed that he wasn’t ready. You always put your whole heart to things and JJ was no different. You’re convinced he’s the one.

But now, after everything that’s happened to you guys, he still can’t say it?

John B. and Sarah got metaphorically married after not even six months in a relationship and JJ can’t tell you he loves you.

Are you that unimportant to him? Or is this just a fling to him? And breaking up with you is just something he hasn’t gotten around to yet?

It’s a stupid thought, JJ never does anything he doesn’t want to do and he’d never play with your feelings like that, but you can’t wrap your mind around why he doesn’t just tell you.

There can’t be another girl, right? That’s just silly when would he have the time-

...him and Kiara had been spending a lot of time together lately.

But her and Pope- no. That hadn’t worked out either. Was that where you and JJ were headed? To an unceremonious end that you wouldn’t talk about? You didn’t think you could be as cool with it as Pope.

Maybe that’s because you weren’t a true pogue.

Which was just as silly because you’d been friends with them since way before you and JJ became a thing. But you two were the first to break the “no macking” rule, even before Kiara kissed John B.

Oh, fuck.

First John B. and then Pope...Kiara wasn’t just making her rounds on her friends, right? Trying each of them out until one fit?

No, how could you even think that? That’s a horrible thing to think about one of your friends. But the insecure little girl inside of you was trying to come up with an explanation. One that wasn’t just “he’s not ready.”

Because why wasn’t he ready?

You tried to push these feelings down. Tried to not stare at John B. and Sarah with jealous longing, to not feel queasy inside when Kie and JJ hugged.

If anyone noticed your discomfort, they didn’t say anything. There was just so much going on, as always, and anyone’s feelings that weren’t out in the open fell to the wayside.

But, if you were being honest with yourself, it was starting to wear on you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Cleo said, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Why ya staring at Kiara like you wish her head would explode?”

You blinked, a blush coloring your cheeks. “What? I-I wasn’t-”

“Now, come on. Don’t lie to your auntie Cleo. What’s going on?”

You rubbed your arm, considering. Cleo might be the best person to talk to about it. She and JJ weren’t really close, so she could give a rather unbiased perspective on things. Maybe she could help.

“It’s just...you don’t think there’s anything going on between them do you?”

Your gaze was transfixed on the way Kie and JJ laughed, doing a little dance to the music playing at the wreck. 

“Them two? Nah. They bicker like siblings, but I don’ think either of them are interested like that. Besides, aren’t you and JJ an item?”

You nodded. “Yeah but lately I’ve been...kind of worried about it.”

“How so?”

You took a deep breath.

“It’s stupid, really, but JJ and I have been together for over a year now and...he hasn’t told me he loves me. Which I know is a stupid thing to be worried about but I can’t keep it from bugging me-”

“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Cleo said, coaxing you from the brink of rambling. “If it’s botherin’ you this much then it’s not stupid.”

You bit you lip, anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“For what it’s worth, JJ looks at you like your da sun. But if you’re really this worried about it, just talk to him. Either way it goes, you’ll have your answer.”

You gave her a grateful look. “Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime. We’re friends, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now go talk to yer boyfriend before someone’s head explodes.”

You laughed, feeling a little more relieved, but that anxiety returned the closer to JJ you got.

He was his beautiful self, as always; drinking a coke in board shorts and a muscle tee, sunglasses perched perfectly on his nose, and strands of blond hair falling gracefully over them.

“Hey, baby,” JJ greeted casually as you approached, putting a hand on your thigh when you stopped by his seat.

“Hey, J,” you replied, trying to keep the waver out of your voice. “Can we talk?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I just need to talk to you about something...alone, preferably.”

You glanced around the group, who were all staring at you with curious eyes and wondering glances. You never asked JJ to “talk,” especially not alone.

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

JJ got up anyway, but you could tell by his body language that he was just as weirded out by this as the rest of the pogues (except Cleo, who gave you an encouraging nod when you glanced at her).

He reached for your hand, but you crossed your arms to sneakily avoid it and took off toward the docks. That he definitely noticed.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” He asked, sitting himself down beside you on the dock.

“Actually, no, but also yes? Um, you’re gonna think this is stupid and I really need you not to blow up at me for it because I think I’d lose my mind if you did.”

“Y/N, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

You let him take your hand this time and squeezed it for comfort.

“I just...why haven’t you said you love me?”

JJ’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“It’s stupid, I know, but, J, why? I’ve told you I love you. I’ve told you multiple times, even just out of instinct, but you haven’t said it once.”

“I say it-”

“No. You don’t.” You snapped.

This put JJ into defense mode. “Why’s it so important to you anyway? They’re just words. Just because you say them doesn’t make them true.”

“But are they?”

“What?”

“Are they true?”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks now, unable to control your emotions when he was discounting your feelings like this.

“This is stupid,” JJ said, standing up.

That shattered you.

“So, that’s it then?” You asked, feeling your heart sinking in your chest. “You don’t love me?”

“Of course I love you, Y/N! Why the fuck would I be with you if I didn’t love you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me!” You shot back. “Because this has been bothering me for weeks and you haven’t noticed anything’s been off! You’re too busy with this stupid treasure hunt and hanging around with Kiara-”

“Is that what this is about? You’re pissed because I’m hanging out with Kie?” JJ asked, face pinching angrier with every second.

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Well, maybe I should date her! At least she wouldn’t act like this!”

“Maybe you should!”

JJ’s face fell and silence settled between you.

Tears were still falling from your eyes and you hugged yourself, regret and guilt pooling in your stomach.

“You don’t mean that,” JJ whispered.

“I don’t know,” You replied, softly.

“You don’t know what?”

You shook your head. “I just don’t know. I don’t know if I meant it. I don’t know if you love me. I don’t know if I want to be dating you any more.”

JJ looked like you felt, completely shattered. Tears were pooling in his eyes and his mouth was slightly open, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out.

“Y/N-” he started, reaching out for you.

You stepped back from him. “Just...just don’t.”

You shouldered passed him, heading up the dock.

JJ watched, frozen, as you grabbed your bicycle from where it was leaned against the Wreck’s building and biked away.

He also caught sight of his friends, who’d been watching the encounter from the balcony, and they looked to him, confused.

What just happened?

JJ wasn’t sure either. But he knew that if he didn’t do something soon, he was gonna lose the most important thing to him.

It wasn’t until the sun had gone down that JJ finally showed up at your house.

You’d been expecting him since you left without resolving anything in your fight. In fact, you’d been aching for him for that long, wishing he’d come hold you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay, like he always did. But when he was the cause of the pain, would that make it better or worse?

You were almost asleep when there was tapping on your window.

You went to it almost too quickly, opening the curtains to see JJ standing on the roof with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand and an unsure grin.

With a deep breath, you opened the window.

“Hey,” JJ said, sliding into your room as you moved out of the way.

You didn’t respond to him, just crossed your arms and waited for him to start talking, a tired frown etched on your face.

“Um...these are for you,” he said, holding out the bouquet.

They were Gaillardias. The flowers that grew in the soft sand along beach walkways. JJ always said they reminded him of you because they were bright and beautiful and thrived in the sun.

The thought warmed your heart and you felt yourself wanting to cry again.

You took the bouquet from him, “thank you.”

You put them in a small vase that was on your desk, having once held the flowers JJ got you for your birthday a few months ago and you were just too lazy to put the vase away. You were thankful for it now.

“So,” he started, taking a seat on your bed. “Can we talk about our fight?”

You shrugged. “I guess we have to, right?”

JJ nodded as you sat next to him.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” You said, avoiding looking at him. “I knew it was stupid and I still brought it up. I just wanted to know...”

“It wasn’t stupid,” JJ replied, also not looking at you. “I’m sorry for saying it was.”

“Would you tell me why?” You asked.

“I-” JJ sighed, turning sideways and pulling you along with him so that the two of you were facing each other.

You wrinkled your nose. “JJ your shoes are all sandy-”

“I’ll take them off,” he said, quickly pulling his sneakers off his feet and dropping them on the floor, making sure to wipe away the sand before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I can’t say I love you because I really do. It’s hard for me to say because everyone I’ve loved before have left me. My mom’s gone, I loved my dad just as much as I hated him, Big John’s gone, I thought I lost John B.”

JJ hung his head, stopping to take a breath. “I guess I’m just scared that I’ll lose you, too,”

You chuckled a little. “You know, it’s funny, I wanted you to tell me you love me because I didn’t want to lose you. I thought that if you weren’t saying it, that meant that this wasn’t something you were invested in.”

“I’ve never been more invested in anything in my life,” JJ admitted.

You smiled. “I guess that’s all I need.”

“No,” JJ shook his head. “No, this time I’m going to say it. I love you, Y/N.”

You felt like crying all over again. “I love you, too,”

JJ took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. A gesture you returned, putting your hands on his chest and gripping his grey t-shirt tightly.

A thunk hit your window, causing the two of you to pull apart and turn your attention towards it.

“Oh, yeah,” JJ said, getting up and sticking his head out of the window. “We’re good, guys!”

Confused, you joined JJ at the window.

The twinkie was sitting in your driveway, passenger and side door open, with the rest of the pogues around it.

“Good,” John B. said. “We were starting to think she killed you.”

“Not yet, he’s still worth keeping around,” you said, jokingly.

“You guys coming down? We’re gonna go have a bonfire now.”

JJ smirked. “Nah, I think we’ve got some more apologizing to do, if you know what I mean.”

“JJ!” You said, shoving his shoulder and blushing furiously.

“Be safe!” Pope said.

“Use protection!” Kiara said.

“Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do!” Cleo chimed in.

“I hate you all!” You said, disappearing back into your room.

JJ laughed, leaning back in and closing the window.

“Now,” he said. “Where were we?”

“I’d really like to start at ‘I love you’,” you said, smiling bashfully, sitting back on your bed.

JJ leaned forward on his hands that were on either side of you. “Well, then I love you,”

You were giddy inside. “Alright, let’s do this.”

JJ laughed as your wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned backwards on the bed, taking him with you.

Yeah, maybe love doesn’t only have to be said in words, but it’s nice to hear. And JJ would say it indefinitely more times, if only to see the smile it brought to your face.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Cowboy!au playlist🫶🏽

💗= personal favorites !!

cowboy!au Masterlist

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Make you feel my love- Bob Dylan (cb!john b)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• I love you because- Johnny Cash (Cb!Pope)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Fist city- Loretta Lynn (cb!Rafe x cowgirl!reader)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Luckenbach, Texas- Waylon Jennings (cb!jj)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Let your love flow- The Bellamy brother (cb!pope)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Forever and ever, Amen-Randy Travis (cb!john b and cb!pope)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Please help me, I’m falling-Hank Locklin (cb!jj)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Blue eyes crying in the rain-Willie Nelson (cb!rafe)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Cold, cold heart- Hank Williams (cowgirl!reader x cb!rafe)

💗 ⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Harper Valley P.T.A-Jeannie C. Riley (cowgirl!reader x cb!barry)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Delta Dawn- Tanya Tucker (cowgirl!reader)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• It’s only make believe- Conway Twitty (cb!rafe)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Jackson- Johnny cash (cb!jj)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Always on my mind- Willie Nelson (cb!rafe)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Hey, Good lookin’- Hank Williams. (cb!jj, cb!barry)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• There stands the glass- Webb Pierce (cb!rafe)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• I ain’t never- Webb Pierce (cb!john b and cb!pope)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Young love- Sonny James (cb!john b)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• It must be love- Don Williams (cb!rafe)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• Rhinestone Cowboy- Glenn Campbell (cb!rafe)

⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• I will always love you- Dolly Partons version (ex!cb!john b x reader)

💗⋆｡˚♡•ᴗ• If loving you is wrong- Barbara Mandrell (Outlaw!jj x reader and outlaw!john b x reader)

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline that's turning into a fic Part 5 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: His Hotness don John being a bully 🙃 <----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 chapter map

-Life moves at its own pace at Las Nubes. True, it is a vineyard, but it is also a working farm, a self-reliant symbiosis of the land, the beasts, and the men and women who tend them. There are sheep and chickens and pigs and of course, the pride of the land owning Californio: horses. There is always something to be done, when you are not tending your father, so when the chance comes at the siesta break you pounce on it to write a little in your diary. Everyone else is asleep, or at least resting during the hottest part of the day, and its almost as though you have the place to yourself by the duck pond in the shade of the courtyard. You throw them little morsels of stale bread, smiling at the happy way they wag their tails and mutter as they nibble. 

The hens enjoy themselves, at least, until the drake decides yet again that it’s time to bestow his special attentions. There is one hen in particular he favors, and you wince as it looks more like he’s trying to drown her than make love. The poor thing has a little bald patch on the back of her head from him biting her to hold on as he rides her. 

“Leave her alone,” you say, poking at him with a stick to dislodge him from the poor girl. She shakes it off and goes back to her bread. He makes his complaints to you, but retreats to the far side of the fountain. 

“Poor bastard. You didn’t even let him finish.” 

You jump a little at the sound of don Juan’s voice, not having expected to see anyone around. Warily you watch him as he takes the seat next to yours, his long legs sprawled out before him. He wipes his face with a handkerchief; he’s been doing something in the fields, perhaps, or out with his prized stallion. He seems tired, but content; whatever chore he labored at must have gone well. 

“He’s too much of a pest,” you say. “He needs to be sent to the cook pot.” 

Juan smirks over at you. “But then where will my ducklings come from?”

You make a sound between your teeth at that, and he goes on, “I like him. He is exactly what God made him. He does not have to apologize for it.”

It’s true, that he’s a handsome fellow, with his iridescent emerald green head and the proud curl of his drake feathers on his behind. “He looks like pato asado to me.”  

“You would take his life?” poses Juan, clearly enjoying playing the foil. He was always like this, even when you were children. Always taking the opposing side, for the sake of being contrary. “For being a man of passions?”

“For hurting his females for the sake of indulging his passions. He’s supposed to protect them.”

“Ah, well. Everything comes with a price.” 

You look over at don Juan, devastatingly handsome, even in a dusty work shirt open at the collar, his long legs encased to the knee in well-worn leather boots. Once you might have sold your soul, to possess this man for yourself. 

Now you realize, some prices are too high. 

“What do you want, Juan?” you ask cautiously. You can tell that strangely he’s in one of his more playful moods. That doesn’t mean you’re safe by half.

“Just to talk.”

“About?”

He leans in across the table, his dark eyes raking over you. You hate it, how that still gives you such a guilty thrill. “I have a proposition that may interest you.”

“Is this a proposition you would not like my husband to overhear?”

Now it is he who makes the frustrated hiss between his sharp teeth, sneering. “Come off it. You are no more married to that man than I am the Pope.” 

“Señor, how you offend me.” 

He narrows his eyes to slits, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his proud lips. He is enjoying himself–and that worries you. “I understand you, y/n, better than you think.”

You’re afraid that might be true.

“Oh?”

“I have always known you have a heart not easily tamed. Perhaps it is why I have always loved you.”

“Juan…”

“Marry me, y/n. Be the mistress of this place. Of your own destiny. I will give you your room with your typewriter in the tower, overlooking this.” He holds his arms wide, encompassing the entirety of Las Nubes. “There is no better view, no better place to be on this Earth. Your only master shall be me.”

Many things can be said of don Juan. If there is something you know he does truly love, it is Las Nubes. He is a man of this land, and you understand he truly cannot fathom wanting to be anywhere else. 

Then, you realize that he must have been spying on you and Paul in the pool that night, and that maybe he really does know everything. 

Once, being crowned reina of this estate might have been your fondest dream, something so far out of your grasp there was never any sense in even thinking of it in the light of day. Now…you know that binding yourself to Juan would be like offering your ankle up for a gilded ball and chain. 

He would destroy you, little by little. Maybe not even maliciously, but in spite of himself. He is what he is, and you are what you are. 

It would be war. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say, tracing a finger over the edge of your little diary, unable to meet his burning eyes while your heart beats too fast in your throat. “I’m already married, and you are engaged.”

“To some girl I’ve never met, two-thousand miles away? What is she to me, but a dowry? We don’t need it. The harvest was generous; the land blesses us as always. We take care of Las Nubes, and she takes care of us.”

You can feel his eyes boring into you, and it sends an uneasy thrill down your spine.   

“I’m sorry, señor. You’re too late. Don’t marry her if it displeases you. But you must find yourself a different bride–I am taken.”

You physically feel the change in the air, as his jovial bonhomie shifts to blackness, like a thunderhead looming. Yet somehow it surprises you when he moves like lightning, snatching you up in his unforgiving arms, his grip on your wrists bruising. “WIllful girl. I offer you this highest honor, and you throw it back in my face? I will prove that you are lying to me,” he tells you, his voice low in your ear. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your fear. “And then, I will claim what is mine.” 

“Let go of me.”

“What if I don’t?” he demands, delighted by the thought of a fight. You can see the spark in his eyes. Despite his anger; this is fun for him, and you know a marriage to this man would never know peace. He would terrorize you for nothing if not his own amusement. Maybe he would give you a room in the tower–but its more likely he would lock you in it. 

“Y/n?” Again, Paul rides to your rescue, approaching from somewhere beyond the wall. 

Before you can answer this time, don Juan presses his mouth to yours in a punishing kiss, your teeth clashing in his furious bid to claim you. This time, he remembers to retreat before you can bite him too, releasing you so abruptly you fall back into your chair. With a dramatic sweep of his arm he knocks your diary into the fountain before stalking away on those long legs. “How clumsy of me!”

You shriek, diving for the little book. 

That is how Paul finds you, on your knees by the water, crying over your inked words now obliterated. 

“Y/n?” He falls to his knees beside you, at first not understanding, searching you for injury. “Are you alright?”

You hold up the little book, half the pages now more resembling a watercolor painting. “It’s ruined.” 

“Oh.” He frowns, not wanting to belittle this thing that clearly distresses you, but not understanding nonetheless. “Can’t you…write it again?”

You know you’ll never be able to recreate exactly what you’d put down there. You won’t be able to remember what you wrote, in the throes of feverish inspiration, the manic fugue of the cosmic muse whispering through your writing hand. 

Amidst your own daily musings, you’ve been writing a story about a spirited young lady who meets a handsome veteran on a bus. 

You shake your head, crestfallen, and Paul’s frown darkens for you. 

“What happened?”

You don’t know if he saw the tailend of don Juan turning the corner before he made the scene, but a part of you fears that if you tell on the master there will be a fight. “I dropped it,” you say meekly. 

For a moment, you can tell he wants to argue, but because he’s a better man than anyone here, he lets it go. “Ok, sweetheart. Let’s go see if we can get it dried out.”

You are beginning to see this miraculous thing about Paul. When you are dead set that a thing is doomed, he still finds hope. Although you’re mostly certain the diary is ruined, you still feel better returning to your room with his arm around your shoulders. 

Maybe you can rewrite it after all.  

[firsttimewriter92]

Pope the meddler (18+)

A Frankie Morales x f!reader story

Summary: Frankie is head over heels for you, you are a pining mess but none of you will realise it. Santiago has had enough and takes matters into his own hands. Not knowing that the both of you seem to be even more oblivious idiots than he thought

Wordcount: 4.002

Warnings: SMUT!! Minors, be GONE! Not for you!! Neighbours to lovers

Slight angst, insecure reader and Frankie, cursing, smut, P in V, unprotected intercourse (reader uses an IUD), Wrap it up, kids!, mutual pining, teasing, dirty talk, age gap 10 yrs

Beer in the fridge, Dips on the table, steaks prepared, some veggies, lest benny would be gnawing his ears off about his diet again…The grill fired up…everything set. Looking at the clock above his kitchen door, Frankie noticed he was right on time. He grabbed his cell phone, checking for messages. Pope hat sent him one about 10 minutes ago, saying he was on his way. Checking the fridges contents one last time he heard a knock on his door. Confused he stared at his front door. It was a light knock. Almost hesitant. Nothing like the way his boisterous friends would almost take the door off of its hinges. Sometimes they just let themselves in.

He crossed his living room and opened the door. Heat immediately rose from his neck across his face, his hands instantly becoming clammy. You stood in front of him, wearing a blue sundress with intricate white lines across the bodice. You smiled up at him so sweetly his heart nearly gave out. “Hey Frankie,” you said a bit hesitantly. His throat made some kind or gurgling noise before he cleared it awkwardly. “Hey there,___” he said, trying desperately not to sound overwhelmed. Though that feeling caught him almost every time he saw you. When you were waving at him from across your own back yard next to his, whenever he saw you casually shopping and looking like a literal angel doing it. He once saw you and a group of friends enter his favourite bar and he nearly choked on  his beer. Benny wouldn´t let him live it down for weeks. But that was the last indication for his friends to find out that Frankie was head over heels and absolutely desperately attracted to you.

“I come bearing gifts” you said cheerfully and lifted the wicker basket in your hands. “Huh?” he said dumbly. Your face fell at his reaction. “Oh, I´m sorry…Santi said…I didn´t know he didn´t ask you. I´ll…ehm…go home” you said turning around. Your insides squeezed painfully with embarrassment. Of course he didn´t want you there. He wasn´t even the one who invited you. Santi said you should come over. You should have listened to what your grandmother always told you: Don´t go to an event, if it´s not the host who invited you.

You thought you were quite friendly with your insanely adorable neighbour and his friends. You always got a smile out of him across your yard fences, had some nice conversations with him at the produce section. And sometimes even with his sweet little daughter he sometimes had over. You were delighted when Santi invited you over for a barbeque. Maybe you should have known better. Frankie was way out of your league. Incredibly handsome features, a kind man, respectful and loyal. Older by 10 years…why would he be interested in you of all people?

__________________________________________________________

When your front door closed behind you, Frankie was still staring at your back, unable to move. What had just happened? Were you coming over for the barbeque? He couldn´t remember having the balls to actually invite you. What did you say? Santi said…What did he say to you? Still shellshocked about the disappointed look in your eyes when you turned around he felt his stomach turn and waves of regret washing over him again and again. He had to hold on to his front door when Santi´s car rolled up his driveway.

“Hey there, Fish. You good?” Santi bellowed as he exited his car. Coming up the steps to his front porch he suddenly looked concerned. “Frank? What´s going on? You look like shit, hermano.” Frankie just stared blankly at him. “I think I fucked something up….bad” he whispered. Santiago raised one of his thick eyebrows and then suddenly looked very concerned. “Have you…” he looked left and right quickly while steering him back into the house. “Frank, have you been using again?” “What?” Frankie said sharply, coming out of his stupor. “Of course I haven´t, are you nuts?” Santi looked relieved. “Then why were you just standing on your porch looking like regret itself?” he asked. “You scared me, man.” Frankie looked away. “Sorry,” he said. “It´s just…you know,___ came over just before you did and-“ “Oh, good”, Santi beamed looking around. “Where is she? Did she bring those awesome Muffins I asked for?”

“Muffins….” Frankie said in a hollow voice. “Oh no. Oh no, fuck!” He pulled off his hat and threw it on the sofa. Pacing and raking his hands through his hair he stared at Santi. “You invited her? And didn´t care to mention that to me?” Santi looked almost offended. “Dude…I didn´t know I needed permission to invite someone to our barbeque just because we are having it at your house, and besides” he said exasperatedly. “You´ve been drooling all over her for months now and she is crazy about you. I did you a funkin´ favour ´cause none of your flippin´ pendejos would do anything about it!” Frankie stopped in his tracks. “She´s….she´s not-“ “Oh, for fucks sake, Frank, open your eyes! I know you are as blind as a bat when it comes to romance, so let me help you out.” Santi stood in front of him, his hands on both his shoulders while staring him down. “That woman is mad for you. You might not see it, but that is because for some reason we all don´t get, your self esteem is at rock bottom.” Frankie rolled his eyes. “You know exactly why that is” he murmured. Santiago took a deep breath. “You made a mistake. You paid the price. Frank, you need to start allowing yourself some more. Like accepting someone’s feelings.” Frankie knew he was right. “Doesn´t matter now, really.” He said defeated. “I fucked it up…yet again.” Santi looked at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

Frankies shoulder dropped. “She was here…just now. Just standing there with that basket in hand and that beautiful smile.” He huffed a humourless laugh. “When she realised I had no idea why she was there…she looked so embarrassed. She just turned around and left. And instead of asking her to stay, I just…froze.” “Jesus, Frank”, Santi sounded sarcastically pissed off. “Right, that´s it.” He clapped his hands and strolled to the front door. “Where are you going?” Frankie sounded worried. “Pope!” he called in a panicky voice when Santiago left the house steering himself towards yours.

__________________________________________________________

 The three sharp knocks on your door made you jump. You were not in the mood for visitors at all. Eyes probably blotchy from crying. You didn´t want to see anybody. When you heard muffled voices however you got curious. It sounded like they were arguing. Was that Santi? You went over to the door and swung it open. Indeed. Right outside your door was Santi grinning like a maniac, struggling against a panicked looking Frankie who was trying to pry him away from your door. When he saw you however he let him go. He took one look at you and hung his head, looking like a beaten dog. When Santiago saw your face, his grin dropped as well. “Hey, beautiful” he said in a small voice. “Listen, I need to clear something up. I didn´t think about telling Fish about me inviting you. I´m sorry. Really” he looked like it. You nodded trying to close the door again when you felt the lump in your throat reforming. “Wait, wait, sweetheart, please.” Santi said quickly. “Frankie didn´t know you were coming, it was my fault. He´s-“ “Pope!”

You flinched a little hearing Frankie use that kind of tone. You´ve never heard something this sharp come from his mouth. Then again, you shouldn´t be surprised. He used to be a military man after all.

Santi turned with a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Frankie hat lifted his eyes, staring hard at a point somewhere above your head and took the three steps up to your door. “Can we talk?” he rushed out. You nodded and stepped aside. “I´ll tell the boys you´ll be a while” Santi called out with a snicker before the door closed behind Frankie. “Funking hell” he breathed and shook his head.

You walked inside your living room, Frankie following you. A light summer breeze flowed in from the open window, catching onto the skirt of your dress. Frankie was mesmerised. Almost losing his words again. “I´m sorry” he stammered out. “I´m sorry I was such a dick before. Freezing like that. I really didn´t know Pope invited you.” You nodded your head, a tiny smile on your lips. “Maybe I shouldn´t have left so quickly” you said and shrugged your shoulders. “I guess I jumped to conclusions.” He turned his head curiously. “What conclusions?” he asked. You looked at him with a slight guilty look. “That you did know about Santis invitation and weren´t….weren´t ok with it.” His stomach dropped several feet. Without thinking he was walking towards you, grasping your face in his hands. “No,” he said in a reassuring voice. “No, please don´t think like that. Of course I wanted you to come over. I´m the one that never has the balls to actually ask, but believe me, I really want you near me.” His breath caught in his throat when he finished. His big brown eyes blown wide he looked into yours. They were filled with surprise and longing. “I really like you” you blurted out. “I really, really like you, Frankie. I´m sorry if that´s a bother.” You waited with baited breath, studying his reaction.

He looked like a deer in headlights for a moment. Then, your face still in his hands, he spoke. “Bother? Why would your feelings be a bother to me? No, don´t answer that” he said with a chuckle when you opened your mouth. “Sweetness, do you have any idea what you do to me?” he looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars. Your knees began to buckle. “Your ray of sunshine demeanour, your gentle nature, your laugh, god your laugh.” His forehead made contact with yours. Your hands immediately went to his chest, feeling his hammering heart underneath your fingertips. Dreaming, you must be dreaming. “What I´m trying to say without having a damn heart attack is…your feelings are reciprocated, darling.” You tried your best to keep the tears of relief at bay but they came anyway. Silently falling across your cheeks he wiped them away quickly. “Really?” you sniffled. He chuckled again, low in his chest. “Really” he said with a grin. “And right now, I´m really hanging on by a threat here, cariño. Can I…?” Before he was finished with his sentence, you were already on your tip toes, pressing up against his chest and carefully pressing your mouth to his. Your hands wound around his neck when you pulled you closer with a groan. His hands splayed across your waist, thumbs circling slowly. Goosebumps erupting on your skin when his kiss got more heated. More desperate. Your hands fingering at the soft curls on his neck, tucking lightly. He grunted a bit annoyed when the bill of his cap started to get in the way. One hand pushing it off his head and throwing it someplace while his body moved yours closer to the couch.

By the time he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, you were already gone. This was going to happen and you couldn´t look forward to it more. It had been a while for you but you knew that Frankie would not take advantage of you in any way. Pressing yourself closer to him you spread your legs around his hips a bit more. Your lower bodies connected, you could feel the obvious bulge pressing against your heat. With a gasp, Frankie broke the kiss and stared at you with hooded eyes. His lips were swollen and red, his hair tousled. He looked almost out of it. Pride swelled in your chest when you saw what your kisses did to the man that had haunted your dreams for months now.

“Jesus, woman.” He said breathlessly, raking his hands up and down your sides. “You are perfection” You giggled at that, leaning forward and starting to mouth at his throat. “Hardly”, you said against his pulse. “Just doing what I had dreamt about for ages now.” He groaned and leaned his head back as far as he could to give you more access. “Fuck, do whatever you want, hermosa. Anything you´ll do, I swear, I´ve dreamt about it as well.” He was almost panting now. Rolling your hips against him, your confidence spiked with every whimper you heard escaping his lips. You loved it. “So good, hermosa. Please. More. Umph” he clenched his teeth when a swivel of your hips brushed his erection just right.

You didn´t hesitate. Your hand went to the back of his neck pulling him upright again. Without hesitation he grabbed onto your ass squeezing while you pressed sloppy kisses to his lips again. “Frankie” you said breathily. “D-Dress” He understood immediately. Raising his hands he grabbed the thin straps of your sundress and pulled them down your shoulders. Slipping your arms out of them he pulled the bodice down, down…until your chest was completely revealed. Puffing out a gust of air, his eyes wouldn´t move from your breasts. Quickly raising and falling with your laboured breaths you waited for his reaction. Beginning to get a little self-conscious, you gently touched his cheek. “Frankie?” you whispered. “Huh?” he said, finally snapping his head up and looking at you. His eyes were not the chocolaty, soft colour anymore. More of a deep dark, wooden brown. Nearly black. You chuckled about his blissed out expression though. “You can touch them you know” you said with a seductive smile that nearly made him have an accident right there in his pants. “Do you…” he swallowed hard. “Do you really want me to? You don´t have to-“ “Francisco” you said softly. Kissing his lips again and feeling his whole body melt into yours, you tried to let him know how much you wanted this. “If I need to spell it out for you, I will. I. Want. You, Frankie. Always have. Jesus, you´re funny, ambitious, you are a great friend and I´m sure a wonderful father to your little girl,” he held onto you tighter at that. “And I´ve been thinking about this for a very long time now. You have no idea how sexy I think you are, Frankie. So please, no holding back okey? I want it, if you do.”

“If I do?…Jesus,___! You are a fucking dream come true, don´t you know that?” He leaned forward, latching onto your collarbone. Between kisses he murmured “´Been wanting you for ages. Can´t get you out of my head. You make me a blubbering mess. I want it, want you. So much.” Pressing your chest closer to him he got the idea and dived in. Closing his mouth around one of your nipples you yelped at the intensity but pressed his head further into your chest. Humming contently he gently grasped the other breast and began playing with that nipple.

The need to move became too strong. Your hips resuming their rhythm from before. A beautiful dance developed between you and both of you could feel the intensity spiking with every breath. Next time he lifted his head he whispered “Need to be inside you, please. Can I? Please, I´m not going to last much longer, sweetheart. Will you let me?” Nodding frantically you tried to stand up to get rid of your panties. He held you right on his lap with a steel like grip. “Oh no, no, no, you stay right there, hermosa.” His hands moved quickly up the sides of your thighs, underneath the skirt of your dress and grabbing onto your panties. You shivered violently. “Do you care about these?” he asked in a playful tone, nipping at your bottom lip. Grinning you shook your head. “Not very much, no.”

“Perfect.” With a very hard yank you heard the fabric tear. You could feel another rush of wetness between your thighs at the display of his strength. “Fuck, Frankie. Please.” “Protection” he whispered quickly. “I use an IUD and…and I haven´t been with anyone in a very long time…so…If you´re ok with it-“ “Are you being serious,___? You´d let me?” He sounded breathless. You nodded. “You´re an honest man, Frankie. You wouldn´t do it if it put me at risk.” He nodded his head quickly, looking at you with pure adoration. “Then take me, Frankie.”

It only took him a moment to free himself frantically from the confines of his pants. You lifted yourself from his lap, holding onto his shoulders. Your head was swimming in anticipation. To finally be united with the man of your dreams. When you first felt his tip at your entrance, your breath escaped your lungs with a punch. Moving back and forth to coat his dick thoroughly, you saw his eyes roll back and his hands held onto your hips even tighter. Finally you stilled at the perfect angle and slowly slid him in. Some Spanish curses you didn´t understand escaped his lips in a rush. Finally settling completely on top of him you sighed in relief. It was like a month’s long itch was being scratched. “God, Frankie. You feel incredible” you breathed.

“Dios mio, hermosa. Tan perfecta para mi.” His voice was high pitched when he said those words into your ear. You started moving. First swaying your hips back and forth, then lifting and sinking down on him. It didn´t take long for the both of you to completely sink into each other. Kisses were being shared while lewd sounds echoed through your living room. His panting breaths became more voluminous with every swivel of your hips and your own little whimpers became louder and louder. His hand grabbed onto every piece of skin he could find. You were sure tomorrow there would be the proof of your little encounter, prettily being edged onto the flesh of your behind. You couldn´t care less. Not when every stroke of his dick invoked a feeling of pure bliss and extasy in you. You could feel it coming closer, the sweetest of releases.

“Frankie,” you panted, trying to warn him that you were close. “I know, mi Corazón, I know. Me too, me too” he said. “Fuck, so good. How do you feel so heavenly? Like a fucking drug, you are” You whimpered at his words, arching your back and leaning slightly onto his thighs bearing yourself to him. “Beautiful little goddess” he whispered as one of his hands trailed over you chest and down towards your pussy. “Frankie, please. I´m so close, please make me cum. Cum with me!” He obediently did what you asked and began thumbing at your clit, raising his hips with every troke you provided. “Fuck, Ah! Shit…Frankie, oh god!!” your voice was almost strained at this point, calling out to him blindly. “That´s it, mi Corazón, that´s it! Come on, cum on me! Let me feel it, please. Beautiful girl, come on, come on!” The upwards spiral of his voice did you in and when your orgasm crashed over you, the only noise you managed was a choked up sob of his name. After that you only felt white hot pleasure surging through you like lightning. Faintly you still felt how Frankie played with your clit and still pushed his hips frantically up into you. When you were barely out of it and the rushing in your ears subsided you clung to him once more. “Thank you, hermosa. So beautiful when you cum for me. My turn now, hmm? Can I cum? In you?” he pleaded.

Smiling reassuringly at him but trying not to wince at your over sensitiveness, you looked deep into his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Frankie. You can cum for me. Cum in me, my love. Want it…want it inside, Please.” With a loud groan he threw his head back and stilled. You could feel his dick twitch inside of you as well as the warm liquid it shot deep inside of you. “My god, sweet thing! Fuck, fuck! Don´t move. Don´t move, let me feel you.” Slowly you both came down from your highs. You were slumped over, your head on his chest, listening to his still rapidly beating heart. His hands were splayed over your back, tracing random patterns on it, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You hummed in satisfaction and he chuckled. “Are you alright, mi Corazón?” he asked. “Oh, I´m more than all right” you said in a chipper voice. The deep rumble of his chest told you he was trying not to laugh out loud.

“Listen, I know we have this a little backwards here but” he said and almost sounded nervous. You lifted your head to look at him and indeed, he seemed caught up in his head again. “What?” you asked trying to sound as reassuring as you could. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” he asked while pushing a strand of hair away from your face. Your heart skipped in your chest and a brilliant smile made its way onto your lips. “Absolutely, Frankie. I´d love that.” He smiled brightly and pulled you in for another heated kiss. “Let´s get cleaned up and then go over to my house, yea? There´s a barbeque going on and I want you there.” You nodded your head quickly. Washing up and getting situated again, you stole a kiss from Frankie about every five seconds. Each and every time he bent his head willingly, pressing you to any available surface, kissing you with all the affection he had for you.

“When we get back from our date,” you said with a swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip, “I want to do that again. Preferably on a bed though,” he grinned at that, catching your lip with his teeth and humming happily. “And butt ass naked.” This time he laughed out loud and heartily. It was such a joyous sound, your own laughter bubbled from your throat. You couldn´t help it. His happiness had inevitably become your own. Still hugging you close to him he kissed the tip of your nose. “I apologise for my friends in advance. They are going to be a pain in the ass for the whole evening. Scratch that, for a couple of weeks.” You hummed in understanding. “Seems like Santi already knew about what we felt for each other.” Frankie nodded. “Yea, little shit knew alright. He did all of that on purpose. Though he didn´t anticipate for me to fuck it up again, I guess.”

“You didn´t fuck it up, Frankie. We were feeling the same way but looked in totally different directions. I jumped to conclusions just as quickly as you did.” He nodded in understanding. “To be honest we should probably thank him.” Frankie immediately shook his head with wide eyes. “Hell, no! His ego is going to inflate so much, he would be insufferable.” You giggled. “All right,” you said, kissing him again. “Not a word to Santi. Now let´s go.” You took his hand and guided him outside. He walked beside you to his house, still having trouble understanding how he managed to hold your hand. But he did. And he squeezed it when he entered his house with you. One more look at you and he knew he would be all right. That all the teasing he was about to endure was worth the look of pure adoration and attraction you gave him. And sure enough, when you entered the back porch through the kitchen and three sets of eyes landed on your intertwined hands, the whooping and hollering from his friends did nothing but paint the purest of smiles on his face.

_____________________________________________________________

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[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: 6. End of the Innocence

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna wins over Frankie, but in the mean times upsets Jonah and Pope

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: spit kink, non consensual voyerism, physical violence.

3.6k words

A/N: Some madonna POV, but we also get Jonah, Santi, and Frankie

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"Oh, but I know a place where we can go Still untouched by men We'll sit and watch the clouds roll by And the tall grass waves in the wind You can lay your head back on the ground And let your hair fall all around me Offer up your best defense But this is the end This is the end of the innocence" ~End of the Innocence, Don Henley

“Fuck, Madonna…”  Francisco moaned under you, his massive cock filling you up again and again as you bounced on him. You had undone his belt and pant button, keeping his pants on but pulled his cock out. With your panties pulled off, you had sat on lap with his member stuffed inside you as you made out with him. Francisco was a tender, passionate lover, kissing you with all the love you’d been missing since Pope stopped kissing you at all. 

“I love you, Francisco…” You whisper to him, clutching his body to yours in desperation. You needed him to know how much he was adored and appreciated. He is your husband just as much as the others are, even if he ignored you for so long. You card your fingers through his hair and nibble on his lips, sucking the pouty lower one into your mouth and pulling. “My handsome man…”

Hands on his chest, you kiss him down, letting his head fall back on the grass and your hair cascade down around him. Francisco moans out a strained ‘Madonna…’ as his cock twitched inside you. You knew he preferred to be taken care of instead of in charge, you had noticed it in the way Pope fucked him. Whatever Francisco wanted, you were going to give it to him. Anything for him to love you the way you love him. Anything to have the love of all your husbands.

Pushing yourself up, you bounce on his cock as he runs his hands up your loose dress, feeling up your tender breasts and playing with your nipples. He tweaked them through the thin dress, rolling the hardened buds in his fingers until you cry out his name, sweat beading down your face in the warm sun. “Francisco!” You close your eyes tightly, your senses taking in him, him, him. He roughly squeezes a tit, and as your legs tire you fold down over him again to his beautiful mouth. You feel him spearing you, laying his claim really and truly for the time as he hit that spot inside you that made you dizzy.

“So beautiful, Madonna” He mutters against your ear, panting and whining for you and only you. He was so beautiful like this, comfortable and happy and turned on, paying attention to your body. “Gonna cum…” He whines, hips bucking as he chases his release. “Please, need to cum, need to cum so fucking bad.”

Tender, you kiss his forehead, sliding up and down his throbbing cock, wanting to get him off so fucking badly. “Cum for me, I’m right behind you, wanna feel you fill me.”

With a loud groan, Francisco pulsed inside you, filling you up with his warm seed. The thought of becoming pregnant out in this field after finally securing his love, your body swelling with the savior… you came on his cock, pussy gripping his softening member with your fingers digging into his skin. It was hard, it was blinding, your heart bursting with love for the man eveloping you in his arms. 

His cock still stuffed inside you, you rest your head on his shoulder. For the first time since the incubus, you fall asleep peacefully. Francisco would keep you safe, plugged up with his cum so it had no chance of leaving. You were going to get pregnant.

*

Fracisco woke to the sound of footsteps on the grass, and as he remembered him and Madonna’s compromising position he gasps awake.

“Oh shit- god dammit-” He see’s Jonah quickly turn around, grumbling and ruffling his hair, tucking his other hand in his jean pocket next to his holster.

Francisco’s pants were still fully on and your dress fell around you, so to Jonah it had only looked like you had fallen asleep cuddling. He must have realized that you were still implailed on him. The panties on the grass didn’t help. 

He felt you stir, but he caressed your hair and shushed you. You were so tired, the bags around your eyes getting clearer every day. You needed your rest. 

“It’s getting dark…” Jonah mumbles, clearly uncomfortable but trying to do his job. Frank didn’t mind Jonah, honestly. He did good work and especially he treated Madonna well. Frankie knew he has a fatherly presence, something Frankie didn’t long for the way Santi did, but he knew you needed. And Jonah needed someone to take care of since Iris rejected him. They didn’t even talk for the first three years of it all.

��Give us a few minutes” Frankie whispers to Jonah’s back. It was 20 minutes before he finally woke you, the pair of you having slept on the grass for 2 hours or so. He wanted to pocket your panties, but he didn’t want to have something someone might find. If Santi found it, his jealousy would be a problem for everyone involved. If Ben found them, he’d be hurt, thinking Frankie preferred Madonna. Did he love his wife? Yes… yes he thought he did. Who was he to reject this unconditional love from her? Yes, he loved his wife but he loved the man who was now his husband more. Benny before all else.

There was no way on this earth that Francisco was letting his wife, still wet and dripping with his cum, smelling of sex, in her pretty dress with Jonah of all people. Will would flip his fucking shit if he saw Madonna on his lap. So, she’d sit with him as they rode back.

Problem was, that smell of sex? That dripping, tight little hole that was all he could think about now? Her cute ass pressed against his crotch as she bounced on the horse? He wasn’t sure he could make it back to the house. His dick hardened against you, his arms pressing you close to him, he slide a hand up to touch your body. It’d been so long since he touched a woman’s body, preferring the company of Ben if he had a choice… and taking the love he could get from Santi if he couldn’t. He forgot how soft women were. Ben was rigid, safe, strong. His body was firm in a way that comforted Francisco. Santi was softer, sure. Santi’s legs and ass were thick with meat and his stomach a padding of stomach fat, but under it all was muscle still, joints and tissue and heft all boundled in the tight body of the would-be savior. Santi could never relax, his anger, his shame, his failings, the ever-present overcast of his mother never allowing him a moments peace. It wasn’t uncommon for Santiago to take Frankie in the sanctuary, Beatriz’s remains watching them as they consummate on the alter, not unlike Madonna, after reciting faux vows multiple times. Francisco had sworn his fidelity to Santi again and again in these private ceremonies… Francisco didn’t believe a word of Beatriz, her wishy-washy attitude of who the savior was when  her mood changed solidified that for francisco in his youth… but some days…

Some days Francisco wanted Ben to drag him into the sanctuary, he wanted Ben to bend him over the alter and claim him, to not belong to and be subject to the will of any Garcia again. To belong to Ben and only Ben and tell Santi to fuck of… But that wasn’t happening. The Millers were dying before Beatriz took them in, and Ben had worshiped the ground Beatriz and Santiago walked on, and if Frank were being completely honest, he did long Santi. He missed their boyhood together, before Santi’s soft mess was beat out of him and he stuff all his love for his brother until it folded in on himself, only let loose under the cover of night fucks and threesones and orgys.

Ben was a rock. Santiago was dynamite waiting to explode.

You? You were soft. And it didn't matter that Jonah was only a few feet away on his horse, Francisco was going to feel every inch of that softness. You wanted him? Out in the open, no secret? He'd have you out in the open.

“Francisco?” You whisper as he slips a hand under your dress, feeling your little clit through the cotton.

“I got you, just relax…” But you squirmed against him. There was nowhere to go, the trotting horse so far off the ground and his arm tight against your middle. “Relax.” He was more firm this time.

You stopped moving, but your body remained stiff. “But… Jonah.” You speak quietly so the other man doesn’t hear, but Francisco doesn’t care.

He tightens his grip, pressing down hard on your clit and rasps in your ear. “Relax.”

You have to bite on your cheeks to keep from whimpering, and Francisco doesn’t like that. He wants to hear your sounds again so he toys with your body, playing you like an instrument he is well practiced in. Your nipples are stiff and sensitive, making them easy prey to Francisco’s long fingers. How did he know your body so intimately already? His fingers working fast, Francisco is still ever-tender, kissing your mouth as you tilt your head to kiss him. You were a pretty girl, you deserved to be kissed, but right now he wanted to hear you so he opted to detach from your mouth and kiss down your neck, sucking a possessive hickey on you until he got what he wanted; a moan.

He saw Jonah tense and smiled against your delicate skin as you began to relax finally. You still were stifling your sounds, obviously not wanting the older man to hear you on the verge of cumming, but little noises were slipping out. Jonah grunted and kicked the horse, effectively riding ahead. His was missing out, the desperate, shuttering whimper as you came was music to Franicosco’s ears, cumming in his own pants once again.

*

Jonah’s face was burning. He didn’t want to hear that, he didn’t want to see what he saw. He didn’t want to know what she did with those four at all hours of the day outside of her not being harmed too badly. He has a duty to Marcus to keep her as safe as he could without rocking the boat too much. His duty to Iris came before all else. Now he was physically sick, and he was stuck with her trailing behind him. Francisco was putting the horses away, and obvious wet spot in his own pants sickening Jonah more, and had told Jonah to watch her.

Her voice was small. “Jon-”

“Don’t” He grunted, not wanting to talk. He needed to find Iris or Reyansh, he needed someone else to watch her. He needed to get away. 

“I’m sorr-”

Jonah whipped around to face her, keeping his distance.  His shame only grew when Jonah saw her eyes flick down to his pants. It was brief, only for a second and she didn’t see anything there but the fact you thought you might, the fact you had any suspicion that he might have gotten turned on by Frank’s display was humiliating.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I- I couldn’t hold it in. I was trying to be quiet but he-”

Jonah shut his eyes, not needing any more imagery and held up a hand. “Honey I can’t do this right now, okay? I’m not-” He sighs. “I’m not mad at you. I just can't be around you right now.” He saw your lip quiver, but Iris walked into the hall carrying a load of laundry on her hip. “Here.” He looked at Iris and gestured towards you. “I need you to watch her.”

 Iris scoffed at that. “You can’t just pawn her off on me when you’re bored of her.”

“I’m not pawning her off, I-”

Your voice was small but firm, slight wavering but determined to speak. “I’m not- I’m not a puppy who can’t be left alone for 5 minutes…” 

Jonah scrubs his face. “That’s not what I meant… I just mean-”

“I know what you mean,” She looked back and forth between him and Iris who was listening curiously. “But I’m not a child, I’m not a dog. I’m the Madonna and I don’t need to be babysat.”

“I know, I know, but they want someone with you at all times-”

“I’m twenty-two!” You suddenly raise your voice.

Jonah was done with this conversation, he couldn’t look at you without feeling sick right now. He turned to Iris. “Watch her, please?” and stormed off. He needed to find Frankie. He hears Iris sigh, then speak to you. 

“C’mon, you can help me and Rey with laundry.”

Rey must really love her if he was helping her do laundry. He'd seen his room... laundry was not a priority...

*

Jonah slammed Frank against the wall as he entered the house from the stables. At about the same height, Jonah had an inch on him but that didn’t mean much against Frank’s broad expanse. Jonah needed to posture if he was going to intimidate him, even if Frankie was the most timid of the 4. He needed to make sure that today did not repeat. “What the FUCK was that!”

Frankie’s eyes were wide, all his prior bravery and showmanship gone as Jonah pressed his forearm into his chest. Jonah’s hand was fisted in his shirt. “Nothing!”

“That girl has enough going on without you publicly humiliating her! Are you going to bring her to one of your sex parties next? Parade her around naked for everyone to see!”

“NO!”

“What the fuck happened to you! You were the good one, Frankie! After everything Beatriz put us through, you wanna do that to her too!”

When Frankie’s mouth opened to respond, hurt and guilt flittering across his face just as Jonah knew it would, Jonah was tossed to the ground and tackled. Before Jonah even had a chance to see who it was, his face being beaten by fists, he knew it was Ben.

“DON’T! FUCKING! TOUCH HIM!” The boy shouted, pounding Jonah’s face so hard he wondered if he’d cave it in. The thought didn’t seem so bad, but he couldn’t leave Iris and the girl. It wasn’t fair for Jonah to escape this hell he put Iris in.

It was Frankie that pulled Ben off him, eyes blue and crazed and flashing with anger, keeping his body protectively in front of his lover. They were a secret from Santi and the girl, both of them too oblivious to suspect, but the rest of the household knew. 

“Ben, stop, it’s fine”

“IT’S NOT FINE!” He screams, chest heaving in rage. Ben turns around to cup Ben’s cheek. “He doesn’t get to fucking touch you, baby.”

Frankie averted his eyes, body language stiff. It seemed he was okay compromising the girl’s dignity, putting her sexuality on display but was uncomfortable with Ben touting him. The reason, of course, was that Santi was a jealous god and Ben's possession could end his life, but the irony was still there.

The men left the hall, Frankie only looking back on where Jonah lay bleeding for a moment.

It was Rey that finally found him, Jonah too pained to get up on his own. His nose must be broken and everything ached, but the shame on Frankie’s face was enough. He made his point.

“Jonah! Shit!” Rey ran to him, and jonah forced himself to sit up lest the boy think he was dead.

“I’m fine, Rey.”

“Fucking bullshit, who did this? Was it Santi?”

He laughs. As if that man could get the jump on him without a knife or gun. Jonah could take him, he wasn’t the problem. The problem was the others. Ben, obviously, was a fucking force, and Will was a human mountain. Frankie was timid but don’t let that fool you, he’d seen the man take down forces.

The problem with Santi is the loyalty he garnered. Harming him meant the other 3 coming after him, and a majority of the commune. Delta would die for him, literally drinking the kool-aid if he asked. 

Jonah refused to go to the kitchen, knowing Iris and the girl would be there, so Rey took him to his room to clean him up.

“You probably shouldn’t sleep.” Rey says, icing his face. 

“I probably should drink either, but I'm gonna ask you to get me some whiskey.”

Rey chuckles and shakes his head, but gets the drink anyway. Jonah would just get his own.

Jonah mutters a thank you. “Please don’t tell Iris…” He sighs, knowing the answer to his request.

“You know I have to. Everyone else lies to her, she needs me to be honest.”

‘Everyone’ meant him. He hadn’t been a good father, he knew that. God, did he love her. Iris deserved better, he wanted to leave with her but there were no options. Everything around them had fallen apart, the other small communities around being so afraid of Delta they’d turn them in.

In the barren environment, Iris would die of exposer or be raped and killed by raiders within weeks, even with him and Rey protecting her. Not that she needed much protection, she was a skilled shot… which is why she wasn’t allowed a gun. Will kept careful eye on all the guns in Delta, Jonah himself only allowed his pistol during the day time, turning it in at night.

But Jonah hadn’t given up. He wouldn’t give up on getting Iris out until his last breath. If he could get the girl and Rey out too, he would, but Iris was the priority. 

*

The energy had shifted, and Santi noticed.

Santiago fucked into Frankie who he had flipped naked onto his stomach with Will having Madonna on her back. Frankie, who previously in these moments had focused on him or Ben was now eying her tits as they bounced in time to Will’s thrusts. He had kissed her, even, which hadn’t sat right with him. He tolerated it with Will or Ben, but her? She wasn’t for Frankie to love, she wasn’t for Frankie to be attracted to even. She was for Frankie and him to fill.

You were on the edge of an orgasm, but so was he, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t waste his godly essence on a barren hole. And he wanted to, god he wanted to. He wanted to cum so hard into his lover that Frankie swelled with child. Could it be possible? They were god, they were powerful… Maybe if he fulfilled his duty, maybe if he produced the savior with the whimpering girl impaled on his brother's dick, Mother would grant him this. If he had it his way, he’d have this child with Frankie only… but even now, even in his 30’s and the primary leader of Delta, a demi-god and son of the Holiest Mother on high, he could not control this.

With a strangled, pained groan, Santi pulled out of his most favored lover, shoving at Will as he stroked himself. Taking the hint, Will came inside you, kissing you deeply even as he pulled himself away to make room for their leader. As Santi angrily pounded your core, making your eyes roll back as he was the one to make you cum, not Will. He watches as your body writhes under him, Will’s cum coating his cock and spathering on his hips as it leaks out. Frankie joins Will in kissing you, your pleasured face chasing both their mouths until it was a blur of who was kissing who, the two mouths intertwining. 

Your moans grow louder again, chest heaving and back arching off the mattress and unable to kiss back as another orgasm began to eclipse you. That’s right, your pleasure was his. He controlled your body and what it felt, good or bad. Kneeling on either side of you, Will and Francisc straight and made out above, you sloppy and wet with Will shoving his large fingers into Frankie’s mouth. Santi wanted to cum, but his anger, his jealousy the white-hot fury that bubbled at his life-long inadequacy was holding him back. Will was practically throat fucking Frankie with his fingers, his left hand wrapped around his throat and Francisco’s whimpering moans gargled by his spit that dribbled down his chin and onto your breasts.

Pleasured sounds from your lips intensified when your hands went to your breasts, spreading the droll on your tits and playing with your nips with the slicked-up pads of your fingers. Despite fucking you, from where Santi knelt between your legs he felt on the outside of the scene, like he was the dildo and they were your porn, like he was being cucked in his own goddamn home.

Will pulled his fingers out, ordering Frankie to spit in her mouth. Santi watched in jealousy as you swallowed that part of him, quickly followed by Will’s own saliva. When Will went back to kissing Frankie, wet smacks of lips on lips, he used his dominant hand to jerk off Frankie's, throbbing, massive, uncut cock and the other shoving two fingers in your mouth. He wasn’t aggressive with you, merely giving you something to suck on as you came around Santi’s cock again. And then again. When Santiago watched Frank cum on your face, streak after streak of white liquid on your skin, Santiago couldn’t take it anymore. Angry, he reached out to fist Frank's brown curls and yank him towards him, lips crashing together. 

SLAM, SLAM, SLAM he thrust his hips into Madonna until she screamed a final orgasm with the help of Will's lips lapping at her nipples. As Santi came into your womb with fury, biting down on Frankie’s lips until he tasted blood. When it was done, he shoved Frankie to lay down where Santi joined him, lapping at the tangy blood and sucking on hip lip to draw more out. Will laid down by you, kissing you in a stark contrast. It was gentle and soft, making you smile. 

Santiago reached out repeatedly, scooping up the cum on your face and shoving it inside your sore, puffy pussy.

“Can’t be wasting a single drop, Frankie.”

WHAT ARE WE THINK WHAT ARE WE THINKING WHAT ARE WE THINKING

I don't know what came over me with that smut bro, I blacked out and wrote it. im on my period a lot is happening.

Oh Frankie.... c'mon dude, don't do Jonah like that :((((

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

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[small-sinclair]

This is for me. Don’t judge. I promise I’ll write/answer questions I swear—

You’re Doin' Great

Bo x college student!y/n (burned out and super drained)

Tw: burned out, drained, slight nsfw because you two shower (but nothing happens!), super soft Bo

Lester’s comfort

"Good morning," you greeted the Sinclair brothers as they cleaned up the table from this morning's breakfast. Before Bo could say it back, you started on your list. "I'll be in the study all day working on a college project. Please, for the love of everything, don't come bother me," you held up finger, "don talk to me," you held up another finger, "or bring anyone to the house. Only come see me if the Pope is dead or you found the keys to Narnia. Other than that, I don't want to see any of you." You shifted on your feet and offered a trying smile. "I'm telling you as politely as possible."

Bo would snap back with "this is my house; don't tell me what to fucking do", but he knew that this book was your ticket to graduate college. Instead, he nodded and glanced at his brothers. "Ya heard 'em. House is theirs for the day."

You sighed in relief when Lester nodded in agreement with Vincent already getting up to leave. As he passed you in the doorway, he stopped and his wax lips pressed a kiss against your cheek then left.

"I'll be in town for most of the day," Lester said in a sing-sung voice. "Do ya wan' me to bring anythin' back, y/n?"

"Raspberries and my lemonade order," you answered as you entered in the kitchen. You past the mugs as you took the whole coffee pot. Without warning, you drunk straight from the pot and kept eye contact with Bo's disgusted face and Lester's a gaped mouth. You finished the last bit of coffee and placed it with the dirty sink. "I'm off. Love you," you leaned over and stole a kiss from Bo and starting out, kissing the top of Lester's head before you left.

Your laptop was already sat up and plugged in. All that's left is to refill your water cup and put on your noise canceling headphones. You did that quickly, a shock Bo still looking at the empty coffee pot that you downed in four swigs without hesitation still in the kitchen. Your shoulders fall as you let a huff out, kissing him again, then leaving. You didn't notice when Lester left, but he did say goodbye to you. You were too focused on the book in front of you as you typed away.

You did, however, leaned into Bo when he kissed you on the head. He knew the drill: if he or his brothers were to bother you today, you would turn them into wax just by glaring at them.

"Be back later," he hummed in your hair as he kissed you once more.

"Yeah, that sound's good, honey," you answer aimlessly. If you're going to write to page 100 today, you better get to it because you are on page 23. Oh, to be a creative writing minor.

You cracked your fingers and got to it.

*****************

"Y/n?" Bo called as he walked through the door. It's late at night when he comes home, and he was hoping you would be in bed by now, but he found you in the study by the pool table, the same place where he left you. "What the hell," he said out of irritation. He hung up his hat, took off his boots, and made his way towards you.

Your eyes were still glued to the screen as your fingers moved tiredly across the keyboard, rereading over every paragraph as you did so. You've went up to go to the restroom and refill your water. Lester brought your items and that was your lunch and dinner for the day. Vincent didn't bother you, but he did bring your favorite snack and refilled your water cup while you vented about how much you hate a character you made. You thanked him and watched him go back to his work.

You were so tired, your brain melting every time you typed a word, but you were almost done; you were at page 97 by 11pm. Three more pages and you can go to bed! You can shower and go to sleep!

...unless you want to finish writing your book.

"Darlin," he hummed as he read over your shoulder. "I think it's time to call it."

"Three more pages," you answered numblessly as you started page 98. "Almost there."

"Almost 'bout to sleep at your computer," he hummed. He stayed silent as he listened to your fingers stroke over the keys. You were writing a scene about the earth opening up and swallowing a group of heroes underneath it, sending them to the Realm of Crystals. "Your creative mind 's somethin', honeycomb."

"Sounds good, dear," you answer, not listening to him as you pushed your hair back. You lifted your shoulders to crack them, making him look down at you concerned. You felt your skin melting off like wax as you added more detail to a paragraph, taking time to describe the roots and falling flowers.

Bo shook his head as he stepped back. Soon, his hands snaked over your tense muscles and started to rub your shoulder blades like you did whenever he had a long day. You jolted at the touch, but relaxed. Your eye lids felt so heavy but your kept writing. You were almost done! You are so close to page 100.

Then you felt his lips trace on the back of your neck, kissing gently at your skin, then rested his head on your shoulder again. His hands moved from your shoulders to your back, and it felt like heaven. You didn't close your eyes until you pressed the save file over and over and over until you watched the little circles on the cloud icon turn green. Confidently, you exited out of your writing and closed your laptop. You leaned back until you rested your head against his chest. You could feel his soft heartbeat through his shirt. Your hands went up and went through his curls and oiled skin. you just wanted to feel something else then the hard plastic of your laptop.

"Co'ere," he whispered, kissing your lips gently. "Let's go, yeah?"

You hum to his touch as he guided you to stand and led you upstairs. Before you knew it, you were undressed and standing in the shower with him. He didn't say anything as he washed your back and shoulder as you allowed the warm water to run over your skin. You had to process what shampoo was when you washed your hair, Bo helping you when your hands failed to work. You trade spots and you did the same for him, but you kissed his shoulder and held on to him as he washed his hair. Irish Spring never smelt so sweet.

You dried off and dressed in your pajamas. Then you looked in the mirror, cringing at your reflection. Your eyes were so sunken and deep, the lines of purples and tired blues colored your skin. You looked lifeless and disgusting. What this man sees in you is a mystery. Then Bo came in sight, shirtless and clean, and kissed the nook of your neck and shoulder.

"Com'on, bed, sweetheart," he whispered against your skin. "You've worked so hard today."

"I look terrible," you said defeated, your mind filling with static.

He shook his head as he kissed your neck again. "Naw, just tired, 's all." His hand slipped into yours and he guided you to bed. "You did so good today, darlin'."

Resting against the cool sheets, you curled against him like a kitten. "Hold me tonight?" You whimper like a child. "Promise you won't let me go?"

"Never," he answered, pulling you into a tight hug, his arm around your waist while the other held your head against his chest. "You're doin' great, y/n. Workin' so hard for 'at degree." His voice echoed throughout his chest. "Proud of you."

"Don't need that," you said in the darkness, feeling his skin against yours. "Say you love me? Please?"

He couldn't help but smile as he looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you put up on his ceiling when you two decided to share rooms. Ever since your placed them on his walls and ceiling, he felt safe and slept more easily. "I love you, y/n," he said in your hair. "I love ya to the moon an' then some."

"Promise?" Your voice was tired as you started to drift to sleep. You were too tired to stay awake.

The last thing you heard was him, answering, "Promise. Love ya."

And he held you all night, not letting go once. It was you and him in this aimless world, and that's all you needed.

[yourmomxx]

[prom date]

jj maybank x male!reader

words: 0,6k

Didn't they tell us, don′t rush into things?

Didn't you flash your green eyes at me?

Didn′t you calm my fears with a Cheshire cat smile?

—

Purple-blue and pink light swept across the hall. Huge snowflakes and strips of silver tinsel hung from the ceiling, giving no indication that the dance floor was a converted gym.

You had smiled as you had entered the room. JJ had only felt nervousness when he had squeezed your hand.

The initial confidence he had felt when you had picked him up from his home in your car had quickly evaporated.

You only had to glance at JJ as he approached you in the black suit he was wearing, to add to your enthusiasm for the evening. The two of you stood close together, amidst other dancing couples and you could smell JJ’s perfume.

JJ's hands were on your shoulders and yours were placed on JJ’s hips. JJ was nervous. Was that right? Was that how you dance with a boy? Was this comfortable for you, or should he take a step further away from you?

You only had eyes for JJ. As you swayed to the slow song, your gaze rested on the blonde hair, styled in soft waves today. They looked so soft and you had to resist running his fingers through them all evening. JJ’s eyes looked different in the dim light depending on the color of the headlight hitting them—pink, purple, dark blue. But you didn't need headlights to know that his eyes were that piercing light blue you loved so much, that only reflected in the waves beneath your surfboard. Maybe that's why you’d been so smitten with them from the start.

JJ’s eyes darted nervously over the people standing around you. Other couples swaying to the song, entwined tightly, but none of them were like... you two.

Today JJ had decided to wear a formal suit. You thought he was pretty anyway. You found that JJ had different auras depending on the choice of clothing that he wore. JJ with the tank tops and cargo shorts was a sort of reckless boy from the poor part of the island, who'd found his best friends in teacher's favorite Pope Heyward, climate activist Kiara Carrera and surfer John Booker Routledge. JJ with the black suit and a tie represented the crush of all girls, the heartthrob, the flirt. But as you looked at the blond boy in front of you, hands on his hips and pink-purple-blue light all around you both, all you could see was JJ, your JJ.

JJ felt the nervousness growing in him and instinctively turned his head forward again, where he was immediately caught by your gaze. His boyfriend’s warm eyes looked down at him, and while the lighting around them didn't give him a good view, JJ knew what color they were. Y/E/C like the lush spring days he knew from his childhood. Maybe that's why he always felt so safe in them. JJ noticed his heartbeat slow down and his doubts recede as he looked into your eyes, because wasn’t everything around him meaningless when Y/N Y/L/N was standing in front of him, his Y/N?

"They're staring," JJ whispered hoarsely. You almost didn't hear him. JJ felt you look around, becoming aware of the fixed eyes that were only on you two. But you just shrugged, a faint smile playing on your lips, and JJ wondered how one person could be so brave.

"Yes, because I’m dancing with you. They're jealous.” JJ’s eyes widened at your statement.

"Jealous?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

You nodded. And with a slight smile in your purple eyes, you leaned down to him and whispered, "I know that I would be."

JJ could feel your breath on his skin. Then you bridged the gap between him and you and placed your soft lips on JJ’s in a slow, promising kiss. And the pleasantly warm feeling that spread through the pit of his stomach when he was touched was always worth the staring looks.

—

We found Wonderland

You and I got lost in it

And we pretended it could last forever

- Wonderland by Taylor Swift

[yiiyiiwrites]

The list | Pope x burnt out overachieving Kook (2)

More Pope x Burnt out, overachieving Kook and the cause of her burn out revealed. [First one here] and [moodboard] The boys trying to console Elwin after a horrible day back at school. (Not edited so might be some errors)

"I just feel like I'm sleepwalking, nothing I do seems to matter," she said, eyes locked with Pope's across the makeshift fire. The idle chat around her died away, the smoke session becoming so cold that she shivered after admitting how she feels.

Pope see's through it though, the crushing weight of her parents and the whole school ordeal that names her as the cheat. Those red letters scored into her back as she carried the label slapped upon her.

She picked herself up, dusting the dirt from her legs. Sigh leaving her lips, making up an excuse of needing another drink from the chateau.

“Elwin,” Pope called after her. The name of her favourite elvin warrior and character of the book that brought them together. She didn’t know if he’d called her the nickname out of familiarity (her username, Elwin11 and the identity she used to talk to Pope online) or to remind her of the strength she loved of the character. They both admitted that the stories and people in the books helped them escape from the everyday crap.

Following her up the stairs, Pope took her hand and clasped it between his. He smiled down at her, thumb tracing the small marks on her palm. Angry crescent shapes scored into her skin, the curl of her fingers relaxing before she can make a fist and add to the tally.

Pope found her honesty refreshing, never met someone so open about their feelings, that it makes him feel vulnerable himself. He finds himself offering a piece of his own as if trading his thoughts will mean she’ll share more. So he can understand her and help in anyway he can.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, her deep shaky breath trembling through his frame too. “I wish the summer wasn’t over,” she said, her voice a scarce whisper.

Tomorrow morning she’d be miles from Pope. Donning her academy blazer and stuffy tie. Walking against the crowd instead of with it after her fall from the top.

“Why won’t you tell me their name?” Pope holds her at arms length, head dipping so that he can scan her face for any crumbling resolve and a bit more honesty. The one thing she wouldn’t admit was the name of the person that had set up.

She shook her head, arms wrapping around him as she clutched around his waist and pulled his chest to her cheek. “Don’t worry,” she mumbled, fingers twisting the back of his shirt in her grip.

Elwin retreated from him, the cool night breeze whipping through the space between them. Pope swept the stray strand of her hair out of her face, the complicated braid she’d learnt to do after they’d seen their favourite film, laid over her shoulder.

“Well whenever you’re ready, I’m here. How ever long it takes.”

*

On any other day, the sight of the Twinkie glistening in the sunlight would have drummed up some excitement. But in the wake of Elwin’s first day back at school, she traipsed down the neatly bricked stairs with all the energy she could muster. Her gaze down cast, the new shiny black shoes stained with the dust of another footprint.

It’s not until she slid into the back of the Twinkie that Pope caught the tear on her blazer, burgundy outer fabric curled over to reveal the striped lining beneath it. Her fingers playing with the pleated hem of her skirt as the Pogues tried to distract themselves from the bubbling rage rising in Pope’s gaze.

Kiara glanced between the two, Sarah shoving JJ’s head back to face the front before he could say something he’d regret. Elwin was thankful that they kept the conversation going, the chatter around her helped her not focus on the previous hours at school.

Elwin knew that the tightrope she’d been balancing on today would either break or she’d fall. She got good at falling, but she wouldn’t break so easily.

They pulled up at the chateau, John B’s gaze connecting with Pope’s in the mirror. He left the keys in, silent nod for Pope to use if he wanted to take Elwin anywhere else.

He nudged his knees against hers, leather sticking to the back of her warm thighs. Elwin peeled herself off the seat and ducked out of the door, gravel scuffing her shoes. She smoothed her skirt down, not looking back to check on Pope clambering out after her.

It took everything in her not to look at him, one glance and she knew she’d come undone. She wanted so badly to tell him about her day, but knew he’d get angry, wouldn’t understand.

Didn’t know that money even for her, someone with more than enough could not be enough to keep her safe. Her name alone no longer held weight, no high regard to protect her from the ones that tried so hard to knock her down.

And oh she’d been knocked off the column, not a few pegs.

“El-…” Pope tried to reach out, fingers ghosting her elbow as she dodged him.

They stood there, Elwin’s gaze on his shifting shadow on the ground. “I don’t,” she said pausing, “cant, not right now.” She shook her head, eyes squeezing as if trying to shake the tears away before they threatened to fall.

She heard the sigh, the mumble of his words flitting by as he walked past her.

Heat pricked her skin, jolt spreading across her chest in anger. “You’re mad at me?” She snapped, her hand circling his wrist.

Pope stopped, he slipped out of her grasp and pushed the door open to the chateau, thankful that Kiara and Sarah exited to give them some privacy.

Elwin entered before the door could shut, her eyes meeting John B and JJ’s on the sofa. She moved through the small area and to the kitchen where Pope leant against the table staring at the wall opposite in silent defiance.

Where she was normally open, Pope let his feelings fester and needed to sort through or overthink things before he could get them out. The stubborn streak she was used to, but today it seemed nothing was easy between them.

“Funny how you want to hang around with me and my friends all summer, but when it comes to anything about school, about those Kooks you can’t even talk to me.” Pope spat the word out, kooks the difference drawing a line between them.

“You said you’d wait,” she mumbled, arms wrapping around herself. “I don’t want…” part of her knowing she wouldn’t tell him or anyone. Pope knew it too. But a big part being she didn’t want him to get hurt seeking revenge.

Pope pushed away from the table, “how am I supposed to help you, when you won’t tell me who it is? What happened to you today?” His words came tumbling out without a filter, worry shaking in his voice. “Huh, who did this?” He flicked the torn piece of her blazer.

“Hey, woah!” John B cuts between them, arms stretching to create some space between the two of them. He didn’t miss Elwin’s stumbling feet and her back smacking the wall.

She couldn’t help the flinch, as if another rip appearing on her blazer. The reminder of a fist grabbing her lapel and shoving her against the school lockers.

Never been one for violence or backed into a corner for that matter. Can’t understand why she’s the target when she’s never done anything to harm anyone.

JJ rose from the sofa slowly as if not wanting to scare Elwin, his can of soda discarded on the floor. He’d seen it before, hell he’d done it a hundred times. Seen the way she’d closed herself off, letting her mind recycle the image of whatever happened to her today.

“Pope, why don’t you make some tea,” JJ said, his brows scrunching at his friend’s odd stares, but they slowly understood. Pope had kept a box of Elwin’s favourite tea, the specific blend she used when she helped them study and de-stress.

Guiding her to the sofa, JJ offered her a strained smile. He crouched in front of her where she sat, hands trembling in her lap and lashes glittering with tears. He glanced over his shoulder, John B talking to Pope as he watched the steam rise from the kettle.

The whistling kettle brought her back to the blurry surroundings, lump stuck in her throat. JJ noticing how small she’d become, slumped forward and curling into herself. Anything to take the attention away from herself.

“You’re okay,” JJ repeated a few times, knowing that she’d need someone to help her ground herself. To pull herself out of her head and focus on his words. The same words he’d tell himself over and over again.

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled as she finally looked at JJ. The peak of his hat tapping her forehead as she leant forward.

JJ shushed her, hands waving in the air. “You don’t have to do anything, that you don’t want okay?” The softness in the way he relayed the message made Elwin’s bottom lip quiver.

The bundle of nerves in her stomach tightening, she wondered if she should just confide in the boys. She welcomed the warm tea, hands enveloping the hot mug, a welcome distraction to the mixture of feelings going through her.

“We know something’s wrong,” Pope said, cushion dipping beside her as he sat down. “What ever it is, we can help,” he said smoothing his palm up and down her back.

“Promise you won’t do anything though.” Elwin said more to Pope than the other two boys. She sipped her tea ignoring the burn on her tongue, anything to distract her from the moment.

Elwin clutched the cup in her hands closer, warm tea sloshing over the edge. “It’s the same person that stole my essay, they were waiting for me after school. He…”

In unison the boys all blurted out, “he?”

The hand on Elwin’s back froze at the revelation. She nodded her head, continuing before they could get another word in. “He shoved me against the lockers and took my backpack. All my lesson notes gone,” she said as if the schoolwork going amiss was the most important thing instead of her getting hurt.

John b was trying to calm a raging pope who was pacing in front of them.

“Okay, okay,” pope said removing his cap flinging it to the sofa. “I’ve been going over and over this summer.” He waves his hand as he speaks, head bopping as if convincing himself to just say whatever’s on his mind.

“Dude just spit it out!” JJ snapped.

“So it’s like this. Ever since you told me about the whole essay stealing and getting done for cheating. I know you would never cheat for the record. I signed up for a tutoring gig during the summer but it fell through,” Pope paused, gaze flitting to each of them before continuing, his words are rushed and it’s hard for him to finally get it all out. “I just secured a job for after school tutoring at the academy, so if this guy is on the list…then I’m going to set this right.”

John B slapped his palm against Popes back offering him an encouraging smile and turned to Elwin. “Think we’re going to need a name,” he said raising a brow at her.

[decibeldissect]

Eminem's Houdini

Eminem's newest track Houdini, the first from his new and highly speculated LAST album "The Death of Slim Shady (Coup de Grâce)" has made waves in both the rap scene and his personal career. The song has landed iTunes No. 1 in over 17 countries, debuted at #3 on Global Spotify Charts with 7.85 M streams and at #4 on US Charts with over 2.97 M streams. This is Eminem's biggest success in one-day streams and certaintly left listeners anxious for the album in its entirety set to release this summer.

However, as with most Eminem songs since his return from hiatus in 2009, there is of course a deeper meaning. Music videos are often overlooked in the days of streaming services both by listeners and artists themselves - but the Houdini music video currently sitting at 22 million views is vital to understanding the real message.

Of course, it's no secret that the Eminem we know of today has had several transformations over the past 30 years with some even identifying these changes as his "eras". Still, whether you think of him as Slim Shady, Eminem, or simply Marshall Mathers, you know that he has always taken his music game to the next level - and Houdini is certainly NOT an outlier.

The music video opens with Eminem in a very Batman-esque bedroom receiving a video call from none other than Dr. Dre himself (dressed as a rather convincing Professor X) while a sample of Without Me plays in the background. A portal from 2002 has been opened and Slim Shady, blond buzzcut intact, has stepped into the ultra-modern - and hypersensitive - world of 2024. Eminem (operating as the superhero Rap Boy) immediately springs into action. The video then cuts to the rapid-fire spread of the news, comic book-style text bubbles appearing over faces both unrecognizable and VERY familiar with Snoop Dogg, 50 Cent, and even the Pope all asking the very same question. "Guess who's back?"

We then see both Eminem and Slim Shady next to each other and while it's nice to see that Eminem has aged well (seriously the blond buzzcut is all he needed. Who is his plastic surgeon??) it's very clear this is not a welcome reunion. This video has it all - the sampling of many nostalgic songs of his own and of course Steve Miller Band's Abracadabra, Dre and Eminem cruising in a yellow Lambo (still donning their superhero garb), and 2002 Eminem wreaking havoc in 2024 in an attempt to cancel the modern Eminem. It's well known that Eminem, both past and present, takes delight in a little shock factor and has always thought that society was too sensitive. However, throughout both battles (one in the superhero universe on a city rooftop and one taking place in a liminal space) one thing is very clear - Eminem has changed.

The video climaxes when Eminem (2024) and Slim Shady (2002) both land a punch and seemingly fuse and create a new monster. Eminem returns to the Lambo with his facial hair well intact and a new blond cut as well. We see a cameo from Pete Davidson when the merged Eminems get too out of hand for Dre to handle and even from his very own kids. While this video holds the level of cinematography required to make a splash in 2024 and the Eminem brand humor we've grown to love, it also contemplates a deeper question - How do you deal with problematic behaviors from your past? There's a lot to be said for the behavior of Marshall Mathers throughout his career and I truly think the media has done its due diligence. Still, this video makes it clear you can't outrun your past. There will always be someone (or in Eminem's case, thousands) waiting in the wings to bring it back to light. In an age where no one is safe from their past actions, no matter how much time has passed, there is no escaping - there is only reconciliation. At the end of the video, we see the visualization of what every person who has a toxic past has to go through to heal. You can't destroy who you used to be. You have to learn acceptance and build upon your past. Eminem is no stranger to this, having recently celebrated 16 years of sobriety, and he's certainly no stranger to having his past thrown in his face. He does what he's always done - says "Fuck you" to anyone and anything who stands in his way. At the end of the day, Eminem's existence is still widely controversial but trust me when I say that whether this is his last album or not he has already broken his own records and will continue to do so because of his faith in himself and what he's built. There's nothing harder than letting go of the past (except for maybe watching 2024 Eminem try to keep up with 2002 Slim Shady's moves - turns out not even Eminem is excluded from aging knees).

Love him or hate him, Eminem has proven that he's not playing games. His use of modern technology mixed with his never-ending lyrical genius will leave a significant portion of the world begging for more every time. All I can hope for is a farewell tour when it finally does come to a halt.

[sunflowerbecca]

summer nights ✰ sarah cameron

summary: a blurb about falling asleep with sarah after a long summer day with the pogues

notes: this is my comeback to writing???!!! this was so cute to write and i’m so happy with how it turned out!

warnings: none

requested: yes/no

by anon

“hi!!! can i request a reader x sarah cameron where the two are hanging out with the pogues and end up falling asleep together bc they’re in their own little world. just like a lil fluffy thing? :))”

word count: 320

The setting sun reflects off the water, shining pastels that settle softly across the Chateau. The group of friends are gathered by the roaring campfire, illuminated by the orange colour seeping out.

Kie, JJ, and John B occupy a set of camp chairs as they share a joint, passing it back and forth. Pope and Cleo are roasting marshmallows over the smaller flames. Sarah and you are cuddled together on a blanket on the ground.

The rough texture of the grass peaks through the thin material but neither of you pay it any mind. It’s a colder night, everyone donning their sweaters and huddling close. You shift closer to Sarah as a breeze floats through the yard.

“Does anyone want this s’more?” Pope asks, breaking the silence.

“Oh dibs!” Kie calls out, raising her hand.

“Hey! I want one!” JJ whines.

“There’ll be more, just wait your turn.”

“Fine.” The boy mumbles.

As Pope stands to give Kie the snack, Sarah turns slightly to you.

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah Sar?”

“I’m tired.”

“Me too.” You reply quietly, fiddling with her hoodie strings. The other girl groans quietly before moving to lie her head on your chest.

“What?” You laugh as you press a kiss to her forehead.

“I don’t want to get up though.”

“Then sleep here.”

“Here?” She questions.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Mmm,” She pauses, “Okay.”

Sarah shifts again for a moment before relaxing, her eyes slowly drifting closed. You remain still for a while as you study your girlfriend. The way her hair is messy from being on the boat or how the light from the fire flickers across her face.

Soon enough you let your head fall back too. The ground is hard beneath your head so using one arm you pull up your hood to cushion it slightly. The background noise of your friends talking and the fire crackling slowly fades away as you fall asleep too.

[something-tofightfor]

Alight - 1.1

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader x Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

Word Count: 2,678

Rating: M? There’s some language and mentions of sex. The plot features a scary situation and some blood/violence, but it’s canon-typical for the Triple Frontier guys. 

Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to sounds from downstairs, Frankie realizes he needs to protect the things he cares about most. 

Author’s note:

This is set in the Caught On universe (after the main storyline) but it can be read as a standalone, too - just with the knowledge that there’s more to this Frankie/Reader/Pope situation than friendship. 

I had this vision while I was putting lights on my tree last week and couldn’t stop thinking about it, so here we are. It’s dumb and kind of pointless but I couldn’t stop thinking about a very specific visual. 

Part 2 (Reader’s POV) coming tomorrow. 

“Hey.” He spoke quietly into your ear, his entire body on alert. “Wake up.” You moved beneath him, back arching as you stretched. Under normal circumstances, Frankie would have taken a few seconds to appreciate the way the soft parts of your body felt as they pressed against him, but he didn’t do it that night. Because this isn’t a normal circumstance. “You’ve gotta -”

“Frankie?” You inhaled and then tried again, voice thick with sleep. “Frankie, w-” He cut you off with a hand over your mouth and you froze beneath him, Frankie swearing to himself. Shit, don’t scare her.

“Everything’s alright but I you’ve gotta be quiet and listen to me. Do you understand?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, lips directly over your ear. “I need you to nod if you do.” 

Your head moved up and down three times and Frankie pulled his hand away from your mouth, shifting so that his body was atop yours, the man looking down and directly into your eyes. He saw fear there, the moonlight shining in through the cracks in the curtains illuminating an expression that he usually did everything to keep from your face, and the man winced, taking a breath. 

“Someone’s in the house. Heard a crash downstairs a minute ago. I need you to put some clothes on and get ready to call 911.” 

“What?” You were whispering, too. “Someone’s in -” It was his turn to nod, Frankie pressing his lips together as he shifted off of you and toward the side of the bed where the floor didn’t creak, climbing off of it and standing. “‘Frankie, don’t -”

“Stay quiet.” He murmured the words, still leaning over you. “Might just be Pope or one of the guys, but I don’t know yet.” And if it’s not, the last thing I want is whoever it is to find you like this. 

You’d fallen asleep a few hours earlier wearing nothing, your exhausted body curled around his, and even though he loved waking up to the sight of your bare skin, that night, he wished you’d put something on. “Pope’s not coming tonight.” You sat up, frowning. “It’s too late for -”

“We’ll see.” His eyes darted to the dresser, where he kept a handgun, and then back to you. “Call them as soon as I leave the room. And no matter what you hear, stay up here. Lock yourself in the bathroom.” 

You both heard it then - a quiet thunk from downstairs, the sound loud enough to be heard through the partially opened door - followed by complete silence. It’s not one of the guys. They would have turned a light on. “Frankie, you....” He saw that you were still scared and knew he needed to act, Frankie straightening up and running his thumb over your lips. “Please be careful.” 

It was little more than a breath but he heard you nonetheless, and by the time he’d crept to the doorway, opening it slowly and giving you one final look over his shoulder, Frankie was back on high alert. 

You’d listen to him - at least he hoped you would, and so he took a deep breath and crouched down, making his way to the stairs. His first instinct upon hearing the noise was to call out, but another, quieter one immediately afterward had kept him from doing so, Frankie’s second instinct to cover your body and wake you up - which he’d done immediately.

As he crept down the steps, still in almost complete darkness, Frankie kept close to the wall, eyes wide open and adrenaline pumping, both hands already curled into loose fists. 

Carrying the gun would have been the easier option, but if Colombia had taught Frankie anything, it was that he was sometimes too quick on the trigger. And if I fuckin’ shoot one of my friends because I couldn’t wait, I wouldn’t forgive myself. 

The sounds got louder the closer he got to the main floor - someone was clearly rummaging through things in the living room. For one brief moment, Frankie wondered if his past was finally catching up to him, and then even before the thought was fully formed, he’d dismissed it. No, they wouldn’t waste time looking through shelves if that’s why they were here. 

His bare feet hit the hardwood floor, and Frankie crept forward, eyes narrowed as he peeked into the living room, a hunched over figure in front of the TV stand. Fucking figures. 

There’d been a string of break-ins in the area over the previous few weeks, the holiday season making people desperate, and it seemed that that night, someone had chosen your place to target. Wrong decision. 

He wasn’t afraid for himself, or that the person that had broken in would get past him and to you now that he was downstairs, because that wasn’t even an option. 

Instead, he was afraid that his reaction would go past the point of necessity - that when he confronted the person, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself before he took things too far. Only if I have to. And more than that, he was worried of what you’d think about him handling the situation if it resulted in bodily injury. We’ll see what happens.  

After a half minute of observation, he only saw one person in the room. Even though Frankie didn’t know if anyone else was lurking outside on your porch to keep watch, he decided it didn’t matter, the recurring thought of you upstairs and vulnerable kicking him back into action. 

He took a breath, closing his eyes, and then Frankie stood up straight, staring into the room that the other man was in, the space somewhat brighter than the hall thanks to streetlights outside. 

He had multiple advantages - his combat experience, the fact that he was running on pure adrenaline, the desire to protect you and his home helping him focus - but Frankie forced himself to wait, flattening himself against the wall and keeping in the shadows, though he didn’t look away from the person in the living room. 

Subduing the man was the goal. Finding a way to keep him immobilized until the police arrived was all Frankie needed to do - and so he acted, waiting until the stranger was fully turned away to enter the room, his feet carrying him quickly around the end of the couch so that he was directly behind the intruder. 

Frankie’s arm shot out before the other man even had a chance to react, winding around the man’s neck and dragging him backwards. He heard a shout, the sound throttled at the end, and as he flexed his arm, tightening his hold, Frankie pressed his other hand against the side of the other man’s head, keeping him from turning it. “Wrong fuckin’ house, asshole.” 

He hissed the words out, the man struggling in his hold, fingers clawing at Frankie’s bare arms, and then without warning, Frankie felt a heavy, booted foot come down on one of his, the pain making him see stars. Shit. He roared in agony, but his momentary lapse in focus meant that the intruder was able to rear his head back into Frankie’s face and slip free, turning around and reaching for his waistband. Fuck.

He reacted right away, lashing out with a closed fist and clocking the man in the jaw, and Frankie was pleased to see him stumble - but he didn’t go down. 

His foot was throbbing, and even though it was painful, he managed to dodge the man’s return swing, reaching with his right hand and punching the thief directly in the stomach. He stumbled backwards again, but before he could fall, Frankie grabbed for him, hauling the man to the side and then shoving him down, one leg sweeping out on instinct to kick the second man’s feet from beneath him and force him onto his back in the open space by the couch. Not the fucking tree. 

They crashed to the floor in a heap, Frankie climbing on top of the other man and pinning him, upper lip curled into a snarl beneath his mustache. “Like I said, you picked the wrong house tonight, asshole.” 

The man’s nose was already bleeding, but Frankie didn’t care, rearing back and punching him again, knuckles connecting with a sickening crack that he barely heard. But when the man went limp beneath him, Frankie finally took a breath, closing his eyes. I got him. 

The whole fight had taken less than a minute but he was breathing hard, Frankie’s adrenaline pumping, and he knew that once that had worn off, he’d really feel the pain of his foot getting stomped on and the hit he’d taken to the face. But I’m alright now, and I need to … Looking around, Frankie searched for something to restrain the intruder with. 

Zip ties would have been his first choice, but there weren’t any in the room, and the idea of getting up and leaving the unconscious man for long enough to get them from the kitchen made his skin crawl. Find something else. 

He released a deep breath, looking down - and then saw one of the unused strands of lights beneath the tree where you’d left it before heading to bed. “That’ll work.” 

Leaning forward, he grabbed for the end of it and then scooted backwards, rolling the man onto his stomach before winding the cord around his wrists and twisting it tight. Only needs to last a couple minutes like this. Tucking the end of the strand to secure it, Frankie pulled his hands back, flexing his fingers - and realized that they were bloody, thanks to the steady stream leaking from the man’s likely broken nose. Shit. That’s gonna get everywhere. 

He hoped that you’d called the police already, and just as he opened his mouth to yell up to you, he heard you say his name from the entryway to the living room, Frankie’s head whipping in your direction. Fuck. “I told you to stay upstairs.” 

“Yeah, well.” You stepped into the room, features illuminated by the streetlights. “I called the police and told them someone was breaking in, and that I heard you fighting with them. Gave them the address and then hung up.” You shrugged. “Figured that it might make someone come faster if we weren’t still on the phone. Smart. 

“How much of that did you see?” He swallowed hard, eyes still on you, one hand pressing down on the center of the man beneath him’s back. “How long have you been down here?” 

You rounded the couch but didn’t move any closer, and Frankie was surprised to see that you were wearing only a long t shirt and pair of shorts, your phone held tightly in one hand as you crossed your arms over his chest. You knew about his past - knew the things he’d done both in the service and after, but that didn’t mean that he liked you seeing what he was capable of. 

“I saw you grab him, so the whole thing.” Your eyes moved between Frankie and the man on the ground. “Did he step on your foot? 

“Yeah.” Frankie waved it off. “I’ll be fine, though.” He sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand and wincing as he hit the bridge of his nose with the heel of it. Ow. “You should go back upstairs. If he wakes up, I don’t want you down here.” 

“I’ll be fine. You’re right there.” You stepped away from him and toward the wall, bending down. “But hang on a sec, it’s too dark in here.” 

Moments later Frankie blinked at the brightness of the multicolored lights you’d just plugged in, half of the string wound around the man’s arms and wrists, the other half stretched out beneath the tree. “What the…” 

His gaze rose to meet yours and at the look on your face, Frankie couldn’t help the shocked laugh that escaped him, yours joining only a few seconds later as you dropped own onto the couch, covering your face with both hands. 

He watched your shoulders shake, and immediately knew that your reaction was due to the fact that you hadn’t really started to process what was happening. And as his laugh got louder, Frankie realized that the same was true for him. It’ll happen though.

“Might as well make things festive while we wait, right?” You murmured the words, turning your head to look at him. “Good thing we left those lights out.” Yeah, it is. Your phone vibrated in your hand then, and Frankie watched as you flipped it over so that you could read the screen, a tiny smile on your face at whatever you saw. “Pope’s coming in.” What? 

Seconds later, the door burst completely open and the dark-haired man entered the room, immediately moving toward where you sat. “You doin’ alright, ‘Fish?” 

“I am.” He nodded, the tightness in his chest loosening a little. “But how’d you -”

“She texted me. Said unless it was me sneaking in that someone was in the house and you were taking care of it, so I got in my car and here I am.” Pope sat on the couch next to you, the man putting himself between you and where Frankie was, and at the sight of an additional barrier between you and potential danger, he felt more tension leave his body, despite the fact that he was kneeling above an unconscious, tied up man on your living room floor. “He’s out cold, Cat. How hard you hit him?”

“Hard enough.” He straightened up, eyes on the way that Pope reached for you with one hand, the man’s fingers twining with yours, watching as you inched closer on the couch and leaned your head against Santiago’s shoulder without looking away from him. “He’ll be fine, but he won’t -” 

Frankie stopped speaking as he heard the sound of sirens growing louder, your attention going to the wide open front door along with his. That was fast. “Hey. Before they get in here…” Pope cleared his throat, saying your name and then Frankie’s. “I love what you’ve done with the Christmas lights this year.”

It broke the tension further, and Frankie didn’t even try to stop the laugh that erupted from his throat,  the sounds of your amusement and Pope’s audible moments later, too. “I’m really glad you’re here, Pope.” 

“Where else would I be?” He coughed, clearing his throat. “I’m here as long as you guys need me.” Good. Frankie nodded once, eyes moving from his friend to you, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly - and then back to Pope, a single nod the only other acknowledgement he made. 

Trying to steady his breaths, Frankie closed his eyes and lowered his shoulders, settling back onto his legs and removing both hands from the intruder’s body. She’s safe. I’m safe. It could have been much worse. 

If it had been anyone else but Pope that showed up, Frankie’s reaction would have been different - annoyance instead of relief, anger that someone thought he couldn’t handle the situation on his own. But Pope just needed to know that she … that we were alright. 

Reaching forward, Frankie slipped a finger beneath the strand of lights and tugged, ensuring that it was tight - and then he finally stood, turning to where the two of you sat. “Hey.” He cleared his throat. “Are you -”

You lept to your feet, Pope dropping your hand immediately, and when Frankie felt your arms go around him, cheek pressed flush to his bare shoulder and his hands tightening against your back, he relaxed completely. “I’m fine. Thank you for keeping us safe.” 

He barely heard your whispered words, but that didn’t stop him from replying, his mouth moving against the top of your head. “You act like I’d ever let anything happen to you.” 

“She knows you wouldn’t, ‘Fish.” Pope leaned back against the cushions of the couch, Frankie locking eyes with him as he continued to hold you tightly. “Everyone does.”

—

Taglist reblog coming soon! 

[meddling-in-horror]

31 movies 31 days (kind of)

It's that time of year again folks, where I go insane and try to watch a movie a day for the entirety of October. You may see the addendum of 'kind of' attached to this years, and that's because I've decided to be rather ambitious: I'm watching 36 movies this year. This is in part due to a Halloween party hosted by a dear friend of mine, but whatever. You're here for the list, which is as follows:

X (2022, dir. Ti West) Pearl (2022, dir. Ti West) Maxxxine (2024, dir. Ti West) Satanic Hispanics (2022, anthology/multiple) Carrie (1976, dir. Brian De Palma) Blood Relatives (2022, dir. Noah Segan) Suitable Flesh (2023, dir. Joe Lynch) It's a Wonderful Knife (2023, dir. Tyler Macintyre) One Cut of the Dead (2017, dir. Shinichirou Ueda) Audition (1999, dir. Takashi Miike) A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014, Ana Lily Amirpour) Possession (1981, dir. Andrzej Żuławski) Jennifer's Body (2009, dir. Karyn Kusama) The Lure (2015, dir. Agnieszka Smoczynska) The Craft (1996, dir. Andrew Fleming) Stopmotion (2023, dir. Robert Morgan) Werewolves Within (2021, dir. John Ruben) The People Under the Stairs (1991, dir. Wes Craven) Def By Temptation (1990, dir. James Bond III) Day Shift (2022, dir. J. J. Perry) Candyman (1992, dir. Bernard Rose) Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022, dir. Halina Reijin) The Pope's Exorcist (2023, dir. Julius Avery) The Deliverance (2024, dir. Lee Daniels) It Follows (2014, dir. David Robert Mitchell) Run Rabbit Run (2023, dir. Daina Reid) Child's Play (1988, dir. Tom Holland) Child's Play 2 (1990, dir. John Lafia) Bride of Chucky (1998, dir. Ronny Yu) Seed of Chucky (2004, dir. Don Mancini) Trick r' Treat (2007, Michael Dougherty) You're Next (2011, dir. Adam Wingard) Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006, dir. Scott Glosserman) Tucker & Dale v.s Evil (2010, dir. Eli Craig) Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008, dir. Darren Lynn Bousman) Terrifier (2016, dir. Damien Leone) Most of these are relatively new, and I haven't seen 32 of the 36 of them, but I think it's a promising lineup. Plus, I can go in and elaborate on Obvious White Director Syndrome.

I'll also be posting some con round up things from the year in the beginning of November as well, since my last con of the year is coming up mid-October. This was a really good year for horror, and I was able to have some great conversations with some really fucking cool people (my favorites being Bonnie Aarons, Felicia Rose, Rachel True, and Terrance Zdunich).

That's all for now, but I'm going to be a mite more active than normal, as I'm working on scripting for the podcast and a few fun video essays.

[alexzalben]

🏝️OUTER BANKS Season 3 Premieres February 23🏝️

About OUTER BANKS Season 3:

After losing the gold and fleeing the Outer Banks, Season 3 finds the Pogues washed ashore on a desert island that, for a brief moment, seems like an idyllic home. Officially deemed “Poguelandia,” the island’s newest residents spend their days fishing, swimming, and reveling in the carefree lifestyle of their temporary dwelling. But things quickly go south for John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope, JJ, and Cleo when they find themselves once again caught up in a race for the treasure, quite literally running for their lives. They’re broke and far from home, they can’t trust anyone, Ward and Rafe are hungry for revenge, and there’s a ruthless Caribbean Don who will stop at nothing to find the bounty. Was the treasure ever within their reach? Or was it all a trap to stop them once and for all? Either way, it’s the Pogues against the world – and the only way out is together.

Series Credits

Format: 10 x 1-hour episodes

Creators / Executive Producers: Jonas Pate, Josh Pate, Shannon Burke

Cast: Chase Stokes (John B.), Madelyn Cline (Sarah Cameron), Madison Bailey (Kiara), Jonathan Daviss (Pope), Rudy Pankow (JJ), Austin North (Topper), Drew Starkey (Rafe), Carlacia Grant (Cleo) and Charles Esten (Ward Cameron) with Cullen Moss (Shoupe), Julia Antonelli (Wheezie Cameron), Caroline Arapoglou (Rose Cameron), E. Roger Mitchell (Heyward), Charles Halford (Big John), Elizabeth Mitchell (Limbrey), Andy McQueen (Carlos Singh)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 5.26

Holidays

Battle of Pinhincha Day (Ecuador)

Bob Day

Boulder Day (Republic of Molossia)

Carb Day

Crown Prince’s Day (Denmark)

Drool Day

Dzien Matki (a.k.a. Mother's Day; Poland)

Feast of VooDoo Economics

Go Barefoot Around the House Day

Grey Day

Independent Artist Day

Mother’s Day (Poland)

National Death Busters Day

National EMS Recognition Day

National Grey Day

National Paper Airplane Day

National Poppy Day

National Ranboo Day

National Sorry Day (a.k.a. National Day of Healing; Australia)

National Wig Out Day

National Work From Home Day

Oat Grass Day (French Republic)

Prince Jonah Kuhio Kalanianaole Day (Hawaii)

Sally Ride Day

Starfleet Remembrance Day (Star Trek: Strange New Worlds)

Windmill Day (Netherlands)

World Dracula Day

World Lindy Hop Day

World Orienteering Day

World Product Day

World Redhead Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

National Blueberry Cheesecake Day

National Cherry Dessert Day

World Sherry Day

4th & Last Friday in May

Ascension Friday (Belgium)

Bermuda Day [Last Friday]

Don't Fry Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

European Neighbours’ Day [Last Friday]

Great Wisconsin Cheese Festival begins [Last Friday, thru Sunday]

Heat Safety Awareness Day [4th Friday]

National Cooler Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Death Busters Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Heat Awareness Day [Last Friday]

National Polka Festival begins (Ennis, Texas) [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Road Trip Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Wig Out Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

Portland Rose Festival begins (Oregon) Friday in late May; thru June 26]

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Awareness Day (Western Australia) [Last Friday]

Trader-Willi Syndrome Awareness Day [Last Friday]

Title Track Day [4th Friday]

Independence Days

Erenian Republic (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]

Georgia (from Russia, 1918)

Guyana (from UK, 1966)

Molossia (f.k.a. the Grand Republic of Vuldstein; Declared; 1977) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Augustine of Canterbury (Anglican Communion and Eastern Orthodox)

August Kopisch (Artology)

Buddha Day (Buddhism)

Doc Owl (Muppetism)

Dorothea Lange (Artology)

Eleuterus, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Festival of the Valley (Ancient Egypt)

Lambert of Vence (Christian; Saint)

Lemminkainen’s Day (Pagan)

Lenny Bruce Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

St. Monica (Positivist; Saint)

Oduvald (Christian; Saint)

Peter Sanz  (Christian; One of Martyr Saints of China)

Philip Neri (Christian; Saint)

Philippe de Champaigne (Artology)

Quadratus of Athens (Christian; Saint)

Shavuot (Judaism) [6 Sivan] (a.k.a. …

Feast of the Harvest

Feast of Weeks

Festival of Weeks

First-Fruit festival

Wheat Harvest

Thargelia (Birthday Festival of Apollo & Artemis; Ancient Greece)

Totally Random Day (Pastafarian)

World Hunger Day (Pastafarian)

Zachary, Bishop of Vienne (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Premieres

Absolutely Free, by Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention (Album; 1968)

American Pie, by Don McLean (Song; 1971)

Avengers Assemble (Animated TV Series; 2013)

Beatlemania! (Broadway Musical Tribute; 1977)

Big Jake (Film; 1971)

Buddy of the Apes (WB LT Cartoon; 1934)

Caspar (Animated Film; 1995)

Dracula, by Bram Stoker (Novel; 1897)

Flying Home, recorded by Lionel Hampton (Song; 1937)

Games People Play, by Eric Berne (Self-Help Book; 1966)

God’s Men, by Pearl S. Buck (Novel; 1951)

Johnny Mnemonic (Film; 1995)

Kung Fu Panda 2 (Animated Film; 2011)

Mad Love (Film; 1995)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (Film; 2017)

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, by The Beatles (Album; 1967)

Sourcery, by Terry Pratchet (Novel; 1988) [Discworld #5]

The Whole Truth and Nothing But, by Hedda Hopper (Memoir; 1963)

X-Men: The Last Stand (Film; 2006)

Yellow Submarine, recorded by The Beatles (Song; 1966)

Today’s Name Days

Alwin, Philipp (Austria)

Anamarija, Filip, Zdenko (Croatia)

Filip (Czech Republic)

Beda (Denmark)

Miina, Minna, Valme, Valmi, Vella, Velli, Vilma, Vilme (Estonia)

Miina, Mimmi, Minna, Minni, Vilhelmiina, Vilma (Finland)

Bérenger (France)

Marianne, Philipp (Germany)

Alfaios, Karpos, Sinesios (Greece)

Evelin, Fülöp (Hungary)

Filippo, Pellegrino (Italy)

Eduards, Edvards, Varis (Latvia)

Algimantas, Eduardas, Milvydė, Vilhelmina (Lithuania)

Annbjørg, Annlaug (Norway)

Beda, Filip, Marianna, Paulina, Więcemił, Wilhelmina (Poland)

Carp (România)

Dušan (Slovakia)

Felipe, Mariana (Spain)

Vilhelmina, Vilma (Sweden)

Felipe, Flip, Phil, Philip, Philippa, Phillip (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 146 of 2024; 219 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 5 of week 21 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Huath (Hawthorn) [Day 13 of 28]

Chinese: Month 4 (Ding-Si), Day 8 (Jia-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 6 Sivan 5783

Islamic: 6 Dhu al-Qada 1444

J Cal: 25 Bīja; Foursday [25 of 30]

Julian: 13 May 2023

Moon: 42%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 6 St. Paul (6th Month) [St. Monica]

Runic Half Month: Odal (Home, Possession) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 68 of 90)

Zodiac: Gemini (Day 6 of 32)

[cruger2984]

THE DESCRIPTION OF POPE SAINT PIUS X The Patron of First Communicants Feast Day: August 21

"My hope is in Christ, who strengthens the weakest by His divine help; I can do all in Him who strengthened me!"

Giuseppe Melchiorre Sarto, nicknamed 'Bepi' by his family, was born on June 2, 1835 in Riese, Italy, a farming village near Venice. He was the oldest of nine children. We know him today as Pope Saint Pius X. His father, Giovanni Battista Sarto, was a mailman and he died before Giuseppe was ordained a priest. His mother, Margarita, was a dressmaker and lived to see her son become the Cardinal of Venice. Two of his sisters became religious nuns and served under him in the Archdiocese of Venice.

Giuseppe was first in his grammar school class. When he was 11 years old, he told his father that he wanted to become a priest. His father, with the help of their local parish priest, sent Giuseppe to a well-known Catholic high school about six miles outside of town. Giuseppe graduated first in his high school class at the age of 15 and immediately entered the seminary in Padua.

He graduated from the seminary first in his class in 1858 and was ordained a priest, Don (Father) Sarto. He was assigned to Tombolo, a farming village, as an assistant pastor for nine years. Don Sarto flourished with the help of his pastor. He was devoted to the Eucharist, enjoyed preaching and loved young people.

His Masses were reverent, his sermons were carefully crafted and moving and, as the oldest boy from a large, poor family, he was able to relate to the poor youth in his parish. He began an after school program in Tombolo to help children learn more about their faith and develop their reading and writing skills. He also began a similar program in the evening for adults because his daytime program was so popular. Pius X is often credited with developing the foundations of modern catechism and adult education still held in parishes today.

Don Sarto was named pastor of Salzano at the age of 32 and he remained there for nine years until 1876. He was well known for helping poor farmers and cattle ranchers. He helped to fund schools and supported the local hospital when a cholera epidemic affected his parishioners. He rarely slept and so he earned the nickname, 'Perpetuun Mobile'—a machine in perpetual motion.

The Bishop of Treviso realized Don Sarto's talent and energy so he promoted him to Monsignor and other important positions including the spiritual director of the local seminary and chancellor of the Diocese of Treviso. Monsignor Sarto was known for his quick wit and humility and his love of people. He enjoyed teaching, preaching and administering.

Monsignor Sarto was elevated to Bishop of Mantua on November 10, 1884 despite his protestations over not wanting to leave the seminary. He asked the Vatican to reconsider his elevation but the Pope responded with one word, 'obey!'

As Bishop, he encouraged educated and energetic priests. Bishop Sarto adopted St. Thomas Aquinas' teaching methodologies and instituted the Gregorian Chant for Mass. Within six years, the troubled Diocese of Mantua was turned into a vibrant diocese with spirit-filled masses and enlightening preaching.

Pope Leo XIII elevated Giuseppe Sarto to Cardinal on June 12, 1893. Upon hearing the news of his appointment, Cardinal Sarto told a local newspaper that he was 'anxious, terrified and humiliated.' He immediately returned to his hometown of Riese to celebrate Mass for his elderly mother, family and friends. His mother passed away soon after he left for Venice. While Cardinal, Giuseppe continued to encourage education for priests and improved Catholic schools. He also raised money for the sick.

Pope Leo XIII died and Cardinal Sarto reluctantly accepted the position of Pope after a four-day conclave during which he won 55 out of 60 votes. He chose the name Pius because he said: 'As I shall suffer, I shall take the name of those Popes who also suffered.'

His coronation took place on August 9, 1903. During his papacy, Pope Pius was less formal and more approachable than his predecessors. He invited priests to dinner in the Vatican each evening and often snuck out of the Vatican through the garden passageways to visit the sick in local hospitals. He improved priestly formation, instituted improved liturgies and music and insisted on quality preaching from his priests and bishops. He modernized Canon law and introduced progressive scholarship through the biblical institute of Rome under the direction of the Jesuits.

Pope Pius X also lowered the age for young people to first receive the Eucharist and fought against 'modernism,' a theological teaching that he viewed as heresy and atheism. He preached forcefully against war and violence and had visions that a war would break out in 1914 killing many innocent people that turned out to accurately describe World War I. He did not live to see the long-term effects of the war but his prophecies live on. Pope Pius X supported immigrants from Europe who fled to North and South America. He created many new dioceses and appointed new bishops in the Americas.

In the last year of his life, he granted many private audiences with the poor and sick. Rumors of miraculous cures began to spread throughout Rome after people visited him. Two religious sisters who were cured through his prayers confirmed the healings after his death and endorsed his canonization to sainthood.

Pope Pius X died on August 20, 1914. The Italian press wrote, 'Saint is Dead.'

His tombstone is engraved with the words; "Pope Pius X, poor and yet rich, gentle and humble of heart, unconquerable champion of the Catholic Faith, whose constant endeavor it was to renew all things in Christ..."

Source: Church of Saint Pius X - Scarsdale, New York

[brookston]

Holidays 5.26

Holidays

Battle of Pinhincha Day (Ecuador)

Bob Day

Boulder Day (Republic of Molossia)

Carb Day

Crown Prince’s Day (Denmark)

Drool Day

Dzien Matki (a.k.a. Mother's Day; Poland)

Feast of VooDoo Economics

Go Barefoot Around the House Day

Grey Day

Independent Artist Day

Mother’s Day (Poland)

National Death Busters Day

National EMS Recognition Day

National Grey Day

National Paper Airplane Day

National Poppy Day

National Ranboo Day

National Sorry Day (a.k.a. National Day of Healing; Australia)

National Wig Out Day

National Work From Home Day

Oat Grass Day (French Republic)

Prince Jonah Kuhio Kalanianaole Day (Hawaii)

Sally Ride Day

Starfleet Remembrance Day (Star Trek: Strange New Worlds)

Windmill Day (Netherlands)

World Dracula Day

World Lindy Hop Day

World Orienteering Day

World Product Day

World Redhead Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

National Blueberry Cheesecake Day

National Cherry Dessert Day

World Sherry Day

4th & Last Friday in May

Ascension Friday (Belgium)

Bermuda Day [Last Friday]

Don't Fry Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

European Neighbours’ Day [Last Friday]

Great Wisconsin Cheese Festival begins [Last Friday, thru Sunday]

Heat Safety Awareness Day [4th Friday]

National Cooler Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Death Busters Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Heat Awareness Day [Last Friday]

National Polka Festival begins (Ennis, Texas) [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Road Trip Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

National Wig Out Day [Friday before Memorial Day]

Portland Rose Festival begins (Oregon) Friday in late May; thru June 26]

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Awareness Day (Western Australia) [Last Friday]

Trader-Willi Syndrome Awareness Day [Last Friday]

Title Track Day [4th Friday]

Independence Days

Erenian Republic (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]

Georgia (from Russia, 1918)

Guyana (from UK, 1966)

Molossia (f.k.a. the Grand Republic of Vuldstein; Declared; 1977) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Augustine of Canterbury (Anglican Communion and Eastern Orthodox)

August Kopisch (Artology)

Buddha Day (Buddhism)

Doc Owl (Muppetism)

Dorothea Lange (Artology)

Eleuterus, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Festival of the Valley (Ancient Egypt)

Lambert of Vence (Christian; Saint)

Lemminkainen’s Day (Pagan)

Lenny Bruce Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

St. Monica (Positivist; Saint)

Oduvald (Christian; Saint)

Peter Sanz  (Christian; One of Martyr Saints of China)

Philip Neri (Christian; Saint)

Philippe de Champaigne (Artology)

Quadratus of Athens (Christian; Saint)

Shavuot (Judaism) [6 Sivan] (a.k.a. …

Feast of the Harvest

Feast of Weeks

Festival of Weeks

First-Fruit festival

Wheat Harvest

Thargelia (Birthday Festival of Apollo & Artemis; Ancient Greece)

Totally Random Day (Pastafarian)

World Hunger Day (Pastafarian)

Zachary, Bishop of Vienne (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Premieres

Absolutely Free, by Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention (Album; 1968)

American Pie, by Don McLean (Song; 1971)

Avengers Assemble (Animated TV Series; 2013)

Beatlemania! (Broadway Musical Tribute; 1977)

Big Jake (Film; 1971)

Buddy of the Apes (WB LT Cartoon; 1934)

Caspar (Animated Film; 1995)

Dracula, by Bram Stoker (Novel; 1897)

Flying Home, recorded by Lionel Hampton (Song; 1937)

Games People Play, by Eric Berne (Self-Help Book; 1966)

God’s Men, by Pearl S. Buck (Novel; 1951)

Johnny Mnemonic (Film; 1995)

Kung Fu Panda 2 (Animated Film; 2011)

Mad Love (Film; 1995)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (Film; 2017)

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, by The Beatles (Album; 1967)

Sourcery, by Terry Pratchet (Novel; 1988) [Discworld #5]

The Whole Truth and Nothing But, by Hedda Hopper (Memoir; 1963)

X-Men: The Last Stand (Film; 2006)

Yellow Submarine, recorded by The Beatles (Song; 1966)

Today’s Name Days

Alwin, Philipp (Austria)

Anamarija, Filip, Zdenko (Croatia)

Filip (Czech Republic)

Beda (Denmark)

Miina, Minna, Valme, Valmi, Vella, Velli, Vilma, Vilme (Estonia)

Miina, Mimmi, Minna, Minni, Vilhelmiina, Vilma (Finland)

Bérenger (France)

Marianne, Philipp (Germany)

Alfaios, Karpos, Sinesios (Greece)

Evelin, Fülöp (Hungary)

Filippo, Pellegrino (Italy)

Eduards, Edvards, Varis (Latvia)

Algimantas, Eduardas, Milvydė, Vilhelmina (Lithuania)

Annbjørg, Annlaug (Norway)

Beda, Filip, Marianna, Paulina, Więcemił, Wilhelmina (Poland)

Carp (România)

Dušan (Slovakia)

Felipe, Mariana (Spain)

Vilhelmina, Vilma (Sweden)

Felipe, Flip, Phil, Philip, Philippa, Phillip (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 146 of 2024; 219 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 5 of week 21 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Huath (Hawthorn) [Day 13 of 28]

Chinese: Month 4 (Ding-Si), Day 8 (Jia-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 6 Sivan 5783

Islamic: 6 Dhu al-Qada 1444

J Cal: 25 Bīja; Foursday [25 of 30]

Julian: 13 May 2023

Moon: 42%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 6 St. Paul (6th Month) [St. Monica]

Runic Half Month: Odal (Home, Possession) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 68 of 90)

Zodiac: Gemini (Day 6 of 32)