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peterman-spideyparker · 3 months ago

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Just a Trim (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Author’s Note: I have been INSPIRED by Charlies D23 Expo look and thinking about it A LOT. This is just a cute, fluffy little blurb that I hope you enjoy!

Summary: When a haircut goes wrong and Matt needs to be in court in the afternoon, Karen calls in a favor. You come and save the day.

Warnings: Fluff, bad haircut, flirty Matt, some swears. Initially written in mind as fem!Reader, but I think it works as gender neutral, too!

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page

Word Count: 2,015

Matt loves Foggy so much. They’ve shared so many successes, losses, laughs, and straight up weird experiences. Through thick and thin, they make stuff work, even if not right away. He truly is the brother he never had.

So it’s only fitting that Matt wants to punch Foggy flat out.

In a loving, brotherly way, of course.

“What the hell, Fog?” Matt calls as he folds up his cane and strides through the main reception area of Nelson, Murdock, and Page.

“Uh, buddy?” he hears Foggy say, getting up from his desk chair and walking out of his office. “I don’t—oh, shit.”

“Yeah!” he huffs. “I thought you said he was a good barber!”

“He is!”

“Then why is my hair like this?”

“He . . . Must have been having an off day?”

“Foggy, I have to go to be in court this afternoon! I’m blind and even I know this doesn’t look good! I can’t go in to court looking like this!” Even before he was blinded, Matt was never one to be hung up on appearances. However, he knows that the rest of the world doesn’t share his viewpoints, and when it comes to being an attorney—especially an attorney in New York City—looks are everything.

“Matt, just takes a deep breath. We can figure something out.”

“Like what? I can’t fix this, I don’t think you can fix this—.”

“Hey, guys!” Karen says as the door swings open. “I just spoke with some of the other residents for the tenement case and—oh, shit.”

Matt lets out a groan of frustration as he rolls his head back in distress. “What am I gonna do, guys?”

“I . . . I’m gonna call in a favor,” Karen says, moving toward the reception area to put down purse and tote bag. She whips out her phone, tapping and scrolling until she finds the number she’s looking for.

“(Y/N), hey!” she starts. “How are you? I’m good, but I have a bit of a favor to ask. One of my partners at our firm, he got a bad haircut, and he needs to be in court this afternoon for a tenement case. Do you have any—? Oh! Oh, um . . .” Matt can feel how Karen looks over toward him, as if she’s examining his hair for some kind of barber post-mortem. “Yeah, probably.” She sighs in relief. “You rock. We’ll see you soon. Thank you so much, (Y/N).”

Matt and Foggy wait in anticipation as Karen puts down her phone; clearly it’s good news, but they need the details. “They’ll be here in ten.”

“You have a hairdresser that makes house calls?” Foggy asks, a little confused.

“(Y/N)'s been my friend since before I moved to the city and taking care of my hair since I came here. They're an amazing stylist. If anyone can fix this, it’s them.”

Matt nods in acceptance before moving to his office, trying to focus on some of his work to take his mind off the hair on his head. The short wait is agonizing, but his ears perk up when he hears someone approach the firm.

“Hey,” you say as Karen opens the door for you. “I got here as fast as I could.”

“Thank you so much,” she says with a big hug. “You are a lifesaver.”

He listens to the pair of you make your way over to his office. He knows you’re going to be fixing his hair, but even still, he feels embarrassed to have you see him like this.

“Hey, Matt, this is (Y/N),” Karen introduces.

“Hi,” you say kindly. “Sorry we’re meeting like this, but, I can make it better. Would you want me to set up in here, or is there a different spot?”

“Here’s fine,” he says with a small smile. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this. I just feel bad—I could’ve come to you. Doesn’t sound like you were too far.”

“Exactly. I wasn’t too far away. Karen said you needed to be in court this afternoon. All of your things are here; you can work and prep while I fix.”

Matt’s smile grows from something small to something big, and he can hear how your heartbeat increases. He listens as you unload your things, spreading out on a small side table as you get everything ready.

“Do you want me to stay in this chair or sit on a different one?” he asks.

“If you cold roll over, that’d be great,” you say as you switch out one of the heads on the electric razor. He does as you ask before you turn your attention to him. “Alright,” you whisper to yourself. “Let me see what we have here.”

You gracefully run your fingers through his hair, undoing the styling that was done not even an hour ago to get a better assessment of the state of things. “It feels like they might have used a hair clay . . . Do you know what they might have put in?”

“No, I’m sorry. But hair clay sounds right.”

“Okay.” You walk wound him, analyzing his hair as your fingers card through it. “It doesn’t feel like a lot, so I’ll brush it out and we’ll go from there. For something like this, I’d ideally like to work with no product in your hair, but I’m not bending you over in the little kitchenette sink and using hand soap on you. That’d be cruel, and your hair has been through enough today.”

Matt smiles to himself as he listens to you move back to your bag and grab a different brush. He loves how focused you are. He closes his eyes as you run the brush through his hair over and over, the bristles scratching comfortably against his scalp. He’s sad when it’s over, but enjoys how your fingers card through his locks to reassess the hair.

“It’s gonna have to be on the shorter side,” you breathe, gently tilting his head to the side with your fingers to get a view from all angles, your fingertips honing in on the sides of his head. “But I promise I’ll make it look good.”

“I trust you,” he hums as you drape an apron around is neck.

You get to work, buzzing, trimming, and combing through his hair, laser focused on the task at hand. With the way your hands handle him, he feels as if he could fall asleep in the chair. He gets so relaxed, he almost doesn’t realize that you’re finishing up your work until you speak to him.

“How does that feel?” you ask as you put your scissors down on the table. Matt runs his hands through his hair to give it a feel. You were right, it is on the shorter side, but it’s even all around and it feels good—light, neat, and even.

“It feels good,” he says with a smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you hum, taking a few steps back toward him, running your fingers through his hair again and styling it a little. “And you have a bit of a beard going, so it balances your face well. Very handsome.” Matt can hear you smile. “There.” The smile stays on your face as you gently brush cut hair off his neck before you undo the apron around him and start to fold it. “Also, I promise I’m not anti-social. I usually talk when I cut hair, but, this was a special exception. My clients usually don’t get a cut and then go up against bad guy prosecution teams in tenement cases. That kind of pressure requires laser focus.”

Matt chuckles softly as he stands, moving his chair back to his desk. “It was fun to listen to how focused you were. It’s definitely appreciated.”

“I had to make you look good for court, now, didn’t I?” you chuckle. He listens to you pull out a hand-held vacuum and clean up the hair on the floor.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m not going to leave hair on the floor,” you say as if it’s simple, obvious fact.

“You’ve already done enough for me.”

“Then this is the cherry on top,” you say, starting the little machine up. “I’m nothing if not prepared and thorough.”

Matt laughs as you quickly clean up and pack. He puts his hands into his pockets, sliding out his wallet and opening the fold.

“Oh, no, you don’t need to,” you say, putting your hand on Matt’s to prevent him from pulling out the cash.

“You took time out of your day and your schedule to fix my hair. You came here to do it. You did your job. You just vacuumed my office. You’re going to get paid,” he kindly insists.

“I know what kind of work you guys do here. You help so many people. You have good hearts. This is on the house.” You give his hand a little squeeze as slowly start to move from his office. “Good luck in court today. You’re gonna do great.”

He lifts his hand in a small wave and listens as you say goodbye to Foggy and Karen. When the door closes, the two of them eagerly shuffle into his office and look at his hair.

“Wow,” Foggy says. “You look like an attorney.”

“Told you (Y/N) was good,” Karen chuckles. “How does it feel, Matt?”

“Well, it feels shorter than I’d normally go, but they told me that before they started, and I said I was okay with it. It feels good, and it definitely sounds like it looks good.”

“You look like a rich guy,” Foggy chuckles. “A hot, rich guy. You’re gonna kill it in court this afternoon.”

Matt just smiles to himself, his confidence boosted, ego repaired, and his mind replaying how nice it felt when your fingers ran through his hair.

“Just a minute,” you call from a side closet when the bell on the door chimes. He listens you hop off a stool of some sort before coming out. “Hi, Claire, I—Matt,” you say surprised, but a smile growing on your face nonetheless. “H-How’d court go?”

“Good,” he says with a smile. “All thanks to your skills.”

“Oh.” He can sense how your cheeks flush. “You’re giving me far too much credit. I just gave you a haircut. You’re the one with the law degree.”

“You boosted my confidence. That’s a hell of a lot of work. Thank you for that.”

“Any time.”

He takes a couple steps forward, extending the bouquet in his hand toward you. “For you.”

“These are lovely,” you smile, taking it from his hands, sticking your nose in the fragrant flowers. “I love tulips.”

“Karen helped me with that one,” he admits. “Leaving it a just a thank you didn’t feel like enough after all that you did. I still would’ve wished you would have let me pay you, though.”

“Wasn’t gonna happen. You might be a good lawyer, but I can be stubborn. I hope the flowers weren’t your way to try and butter me up to accept payment or something.”

He laughs. “No. I figured it wouldn’t work. It’s just another way for me to say thank you.”

You take a half step forward. “And?”

Now, it’s his turn to blush. “And . . . maybe to continue that thank you over dinner tonight?”

“Oh.” He senses how your heart skips a beat and more heat rises to your cheeks.

“Only if you want to,” he tacks on. “I didn’t mean to—.”

“Oh, no, trust me, I’d love to go out with you, I—.” You stop and cringe at your eagerness, trying to pivot. “Tonight is my late night. I don’t get off until eight.”

“That’s okay. Does tomorrow work better for you?”

“That’d be great. I’ll be finished up here by six. Does that sound okay?”

Matching smiles pull at your lips. “I’ll swing by here to pick you up.”

Matt takes a half step forward, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“You too, Matt.”

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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

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bootlegramdomneess · 17 days ago

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Is Carmy turning into Chef David? The answer is no.

I'm not sure how much we appreciate the insidiousness of Chef David.

sidebar:Carmy realizing he has mental illness is huge and being able to connect it to his traumatizing experience with Chef David is also huge. The self realization is a huge step. But back to David...

Chef David enjoys being abusive. He enjoyed abusing his staff; most of all Carmen. i'm sure it gave him a sick sense of control to knock Carmen down a few pegs. If I can hazard a guess, Chef David , while great, is probably super insecure and was threatened by Carmy who is probably better than him. But that's not my point, the point is he enjoys being abusive.

He enjoyed abusing Carmen through embarassing/humiliating him in front of staff. He went out of his way to abuse carmy. He engages in what is called quiet abuse, where you're verbally abusing someone while using a calm tone of voice which can be very confusing and off putting to a victim. It creates this alarm of confusion in your body where now you're anxious no matter what tone is used.

Quietly insulting Carmen and then making Carmy insult himself was deviant as fuck. Chef David lacks empathy. He is cruel. He is a verbal sadist which is someone who derives pleasure from humilating or embarrassing others through the use of words. and this fucking sociopathic smirk...

He knew exactly what he was doing and what he did to Carmen. He knew exactly who Carmy was and who he will be. BETTER THAN HIM. He is a predator and a predator knows a rabbit when he sees one. I know he could sense how sensitive Carmy is. Outside of being a better Chef than him, on a deeper level. He may not have known where Carmy came from but he sensed something vulnerable in the young man. "Look at you now." fuck you David. That shit did not help and you know it. But I digress...

Carmy is not turning into Chef David. His behavior is NOTHING like chef david's. he's very well aware and is afraid of being Chef David

I can see where one would believe what we are seeing is Carmy turning into the devil himself. Carmen Is very traumatized. We are seeing him renact his Trauma. He is trying to deprogram himself (albeit not in the healthiest way) but in some ways he is trying a healthy way. (going to meetings..not smoking) That man has complex Post Traumatic Stress disorder. The difficulty to regulate his emotions--trauma. His behavior in the kitchen is straight up anxiety. It is his response to that anxiety. Irritability, yelling, impatience. He is truly suffering and is high risk for crashing out in the worst way.

Carmy can be a Bear. He can be rash. He can be an asshole. But he is not cruel, he has empathy, and he cares. He may not express properly but he FEELS so much.he has too many checks and balances that can stop him from turning into Chef David.

look at Sydney watching him crash out about Chef david. She's definitely the main check and balance. Also, some psychotherapy wouldn't hurt either.

Carmy finally being able to confront his abuser is a big step for him. I hope he can truly began to heal from it. I feel like he has a few more crash outs coming, but he's on his way.

fuck this fucking guy.

#sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #thebearmeta #bootlegthebearmetathoughts

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sailorsenshishitposter · 1 month ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen Halloween Edition

⚠️Warning for spoilers so if you haven't finished the series then take that into consideration. This was originally written in two parts but I will be combining them into one long post. I hope you enjoy!

"Do you have any idea what time it is Itadori?"

"C'mon Fushiguro, you said you would spend Halloween with me and Kugisaki!"

Megumi rubbed at his eyelids and yawned. "Did you really need to wake me up at 5:00 AM though?"

"Oh yeah, about that. You know how Gojo sensei is when it comes to candy. He's all, 'IT'S FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED!'. I just figured you would want some before the entire schools stock is gone."

"...Save me some dark chocolate."

__________

"All right, so what's the plan for today?"

"I thought about having a horror movie marathon-"

"It's not that stupid earthworm crap is it?"

"N-no Kugisaki!"

Yuji let a single tear fall as he slipped the complete human earthworm DVD boxset into the garbage bin.

"I'll come back for you, I promise!" He whispered.

"Who are you talking to Itadori?"

"Huh? No one! Well I guess we better start coming up with some ideas if movies are out."

"I've got one!"

"It better not be what I'm thinking Kugisaki!"

"Chill out Fushiguro! No need to act like a grumpy old man all the time, it gives you more wrinkles."

Megumi sighed. "Fine. Let's hear it."

"We go to the graveyar-"

"NO!"

"Hey, I wasn't finished yet! Itadori!"

"Let's just listen to what she has to say Fushiguro..."

...

"As I was saying! We visit a graveyard."

"Why do you want to go to a cemetery!?"

"Because I can bring a Luigi board and talk to spirits with it."

"I think it's called a weegee board Kugisaki..."

"I swear, you're both idiots!"

__________

Mahito was now past the entrance to Jujutsu High, Geto/AKA/Kenjaku needing him to do so for who knows what. The curse then looked down at the list the strange man had given him. "Too bad there's no pictures. It sucks being illiterate!"

Just then someone walked past him. He kind of looked like a gorrila and after looking around he wasn't sure if it was a part of the man's costume or just his natural appearance. "Truly a costume worthy of being in the contest! Brother, you must join us!"

Todo then began dragging Mahito by the arm. "STOP! TAKE YOUR STINKING PAWS OFF ME, YOU DAMN, DIRTY APE!"

"But Brother! Everyone must see the wonderful Frankenstein costume you've created!"

"HELP! SOMEONE JUST EXORCISE ME ALREADY!"

Maki and Mai watched the situation unfold.

"Do you think we should help the new guy?"

"Nah. Besides, we don't want anyone to ruin our chance of winning the costume contest!"

They were both dressed up as the little twin stars. "Just so you know, if the pink doesn't come out of my hair I'm going to leave you to die alone Mai."

"I just regret not eating you in the womb when I had the chance..."

__________

"Are we there yet Fushiguro?"

"Yeah, are we there yet?"

"Will the two of you shut up before I tear my ears off- oh, look we're here."

Yuji then knocked on the gate. "I think it's stuck..."

"It needs a key Itad-"

Nobara then smashed it with her hammer and created an opening. She then fashioned her arm outwards. "Ladies first."

__________

"PRINCIPAL YAGA, DISQUALIFY HIM, THAT'S CHEATING!"

"What is it now Satoru?"

Gojo then pointed to a perfectly cut jack o'lantern. "IT'S NOT FAIR! EVERYONE ELSE IS USING THEIR HANDS AND SUKUNA IS USING CLEAVE!"

"I don't believe the contest ever specifically said no using cursed techniques brat!"

"Satoru..."

"HE RUINED MY PUMPKIN!"

Gojos pumpkin looked worse than Hanami's remains, all squashed with it's insides spilling out.

"Honestly, that idiot can't even hollow out a pumpkin yet he holds Hollow Purple?"

Yaga began to rub his temples. "Satoru, how many times have I told you-"

"SEND HIM TO PRINCIPAL YAGA'S OFFICE AND HAVE HIM EXPELLED!"

"THAT'S IT SATORU, YOU'RE OUT OF THE CONTEST!"

"WHAT!?"

"You heard me! Now go somewhere else before I decided to give you a months worth of detention!"

Sukuna and Uraume snickered as Gojo mumbled something under his breath and began to walk away.

"I told you that switching out his pumpkin for a rotten one would work."

"Yes, you are so smart, Master Sukuna!"

...

"Do you wanna make out?"

"Let us do it on that bastards bed!"

"And that Uraume is why you're my special!"

__________

"Who should we call?"

"Lets try your parents Itadori!"

"You know I'm fine with not knowing about them Kugisaki..."

Nobara then put her hand on the planchette. "Am I speaking with Itadori's mom?"

...

"Kugisaki..."

"Wait! Let me try it one more time! Hello, is this Itadori's father I'm speaking with?"

"It didn't move..."

"Thats weird! Maybe the line for ghosts is on hold or something?"

"Give me that you idiot! I'll show the two of you how fake this all is!

"Megumi then set up the ouija board and put his hand on the planchette. "Am I speaking with my worthless father!?"

His hand then moved over to yes.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"HOLY SHIT, IT ACTUALLY WORKS!"

"NO, NO, NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!"

...

"Let's burn it and never speak of this again!"

__________

"What should we do now?"

Suddenly they heard a loud noise.

"Let's go check it out!"

They ran down the corridor but nothing could have prepared them for the grisly sight. "GOJO SENSEI!? WHAT'S WRONG!?"

The strongest was now reduced to projectile vomiting like a toddler."

Sorry guys! Didn't meant to frighten you but I think I'm cursed."

In his hand was one of the human earthworm DVD's. Megumi and Nobara began to eye Yuji suspiciously.

"I found this movie in the trash and I was fine one minute and then the next thing I know, there's worm people attached from mouth to anus. Someone better call poor Ijichi since I'm not cleaning this up!"

Kugisaki then whispered to Itadori. "Were you going to actually make us watch this!?"

"Not that one! There's romance in these, I swear!"

Gojo puked into the garbage can and then wiped his mouth. "Sorry guys, I think I'm going to head to my room and get some rest. By the way, if you don't mention this to anyone, there's a nice big bag of candy with your names on it! Scratch that actually, it has Utahime's name on it but what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

...

"Really Itadori?"

"They were on sale..."

__________

"Either my sugar high is inducing hallucinations or I'm hearing something strange... Wait, why is it coming from my room!"

Gojo rushed down the hall only to find out that he couldn't enter. "How is my door locked? And why is there a sock on the doorknob?"

He then pressed his ear to the door.

"OH YES SUKUNA SAMA! GIVE ME THAT MALEVOLENT MEAT!"

"WHAT THE FUCK!? HOLLOW PURPLE!"

The door was now reduced to splinters, leaving Gojo's six eyes to see all the horror. "OH GOD! WHERE'S MY BLINDFOLD!?"

"Do you mind? I'm kind of in the middle of something important right now."

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM SUKUNA!"

__________

"And today's winner of the contest is- Hey kid, what's your name again?"

"Uhhh..."

"Well Uhhh, congratulations, you've won first prize for your Frankenstien cosplay! Here's trophy!" Mahito began to sniffle.

"GOD DAMN IT!" Maki snapped her weapon, breaking it in two.

"Wow,.... I've never won at anything before!"

"You amaze me once again brother! Yet I must ask you, how did you make your costume?"

"What are you talking about? I keep telling you this is my skin!"

Gasps emerged from the crowd.

"I'm sorry to have to do this Uhhh but you're disqualified for not having a costume. I'm afraid I'm going to need to take this back..."

Mahito then ran away like a sulking child.

"Brother! Wait, come back!"

"Alright folks, sorry about that. We'll now be handing out first prize to the runner up!"

Maki and Mai finally stopped strangling each other. "It seems like we still have a chance at winning!"

"And first place now goes to Muta Kokichi for his stunning costuming of Eva unit-00!"

The twins looked at each other. "Do you know who that is?"

"No, can't say it sounds familiar..."

Just then a giant robot parked itself next to the stadium. The hatch opened and out came a sickly boy being pushed in a wheelchair.

"WAIT, WHY IS MECHAMARU HERE!?"

The crowd then broke out into cheers. "He's so brave!"

"Thank you all but I cannot accept this award."

"Thank God!"

"Because I'm giving it to my wonderful Miwa!"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?"

__________

"What's taking Mahito so long?"

Jogo smoked his pipe while he talked to Geto/AKA/Kenjaku. "I'm not sure. Maybe it would be best if one you checked up on him."

The curse grunted. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of babysitting Dagon?"

"What about Hanami then? Oh wait, that didn't go so well the last time did it?"

The man got up and stretched. "I suppose I'll be on my way then."

Kenjaku then exited through the door. It was time to put the moves on Hanami.

".ogoJ uoy ees ot ecin s'tI"

"What are you saying? Look, nevermind. I picked these flowers for you..."

".ogoJ"

"It is said that humans believe certain flowers hold different meanings-"

"!ogoJ"

"And roses are said to symbolize-"

"!OGOJ"

"WHAT!?"

Hanami then communicated telepathically. "Dagon is drowning..."

"This isn't about him- Wait, how is he drowning!?"

"Where's that damn monk kid when you need them!?" Jogo then set the temperature so high that the water evaporated into steam. He then went to check on said curse. Dagon was now flapping like a fish.

"He's alright, just a little bit crispy."

Hanami then used their powers to restore the water and gently placed Dagon back in.

"Did you really think that destroying the homes of rose bushes would make me happy?"

"... I can always plant some more."

"You better!" __________

Gojo was now forcing poor Ijichi to clean his room, top to bottom. "And it better be spotless when I get back! I don't want to see a trace of curse "residue" if you know what I mean!"

He then lit a match and set his bed on fire. "By the way, I need a new bed."

Gojo then walked off while Ijichi began to cry. "I don't get paid enough for this job! Nanami was right. Jujutsu sorcerers really are shit!"

__________

Kenjaku was now inside the school. He walked around until he heard whimpering coming from the forest. "Ah, there you are Mahito!"

The curse was now trembling. "G-go-gor-"

"What exactly are you trying to tell me?"

"GO-GORILLA!"

Kenjaku turned around only to be faced by Todo. "There you are brother! I didn't know you were with Geto. If you don't mind sir, I'm going to take this one into the infirmary. Little bro doesn't seem to be feeling too well after losing the costume contest."

Kenny raised an eyebrow at Mahito. "Thank you but I'll take it from here. I know enough about the body to treat symptoms."

"That's wonderful! But when did you start learning? I wasn't aware that you could use reverse cursed technique?"

"... Shoko... I've been stopping by the lab every now and then..."

The teeth in Kenjaku's brain were grinding. 'Please buy it!'

"Well it seems you have everything handled here so I will leave it to you!"

They both waited until Todo was out of sight. "I want a good explanation and I want it now!" __________

"What are you doing Master Sukuna?"

"Just trying to see if a certain little spell works. I've heard that humans can summon the dead from a mirror. This should be quite the entertaining night."

"What are we doing in the boys bathroom my lord?"

"Would you turn off the lights for me? Thanks. Now follow after me and repeat this name three times! Fushiguro Toji, Fushigro Toji, Fushiguro Toji!"

"... What the hell?"

"Good evening, Mr. Fushiguro! My associate and I are interested in causing some mayhem and would like to know if you'd like to assist us!"

"Where's Gojo?"

"I don't see why that matter-"

"WHERE IS THAT ASSHOLE!"

"Well it seems like we've made a new friend Uraume! Right now you are inside Jujutsu Tech and Gojo Satoru is somewhere here on campus!"

"I need to egg that punks place for ruining my house on Halloween! Do you have any idea how annoying it is to try and remove all that toilet paper!? I don't have time for that! I've got children to neglect and teenagers to kill for money!"

"I'm afraid we already trashed his room earlier but there's still time to squeeze in some petty revenge!"

"Well, thanks for your help. I'll put in the good word with Gege and see if he can set you up some place nice in the next life. Now if you don't mind me, I'm off to go kill that Gojo brat!"

"What have you done master?"

"What we've done Uraume, what WE'VE done!" __________

"And I don't want anyone seeing you escape! You've already caused enough of a mess. Now get out of my sight!"

"Suguru, is that you!?"

Kenjaku nervously turned his head around. "...Satoru?"

"There you are! Hey what happened to your forehead?"

"...It's part of my costume."

"I thought that you were going as a sexy nurse this year?"

"...I suppose I can be both..."

"Well I got my matching patient outfit so that works for me! Now let's go get ready for tonight!"

Kenjaku sighed. 'Why me!?" __________

"Everyone got their costumes?"

"Itadori, we're too young to go trick or treating! Besides, I don't even have a costume."

"Well it's a good thing that I brought you one just in case!" Yuji then threw the costume to Megumi.

"Why do you have an outfit of Gojo?"

"Oops, wrong one. That's meant for Okkotsu! Here's yours!"

Megumi then looked at the contents of the bag. "No. I refuse!"

"But you promised to spend Halloween with us!"

"Fine... Anyway what are you supposed to be Kugisaki?"

"A pirate!"

"You can't just wear an eye patch and say that's your costume!"

"Yes I can! I'm broke and from the countryside, I'm not rich like you!"

"Doesn't Gojo sensei give us spending money?"

"I'm not changing my costume! Besides, it's too late!"

"She makes a point Fushiguro."

"Whatever. And just what are you supposed to be?"

"What does it look like?"

"You look like a samurai cosplayer that got lost from the convention so I'm going to say Oda Nobunaga."

"Do you even know who that is Kugisaki?"

"Of course I do Fushiguro! Isn't he the head of Nintendo?"

"How did you pass history class? Anyway what are you supposed to be Itadori?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo from Bleach..."

"Why are you dressing up as a chemical product?"

"You're hopeless Kugisaki..." __________

"Hello Nurse!"

'I can't wait to kill this idiot!'

"Thanks Satoru. But it seems a bit too small, don't you think?"

"Hey, you're the one that ordered the costume, not me. I can't help it if you gained a few more pounds from swallowing curses!"

"Right..."

"Anyway let's go trick or treating!"

"Excuse me!?"

"You heard me! Besides, I need to stock up on candy!"

"Don't you have enough...?"

"Yeah well I threw it all up earlier!"

"Wait, what-"

"Let's hurry before all the good houses are empty!" __________

"Trick-or-Trea- Wait, is that Nanami sensei?"

"Nice to see you all. I trust that you're not getting into trouble tonight? We don't want another event like Shibuya..."

"You're not our mom Nanami! And why do you look like a burn victim?"

"That's rude Kugisaki..."

"It's my costume..."

"No offense, but you don't seem like the kind of person that enjoys Halloween..."

"You're right, I don't. But my friend insisted on it..."

"Are there trick or treaters- ... Aren't you guys a bit old to be doing this...?"

"I told you Itadori!"

"Hey! Why is Phoenix Wright screwing us over!?"

"My name is Higuruma Hiromi young lady and I happen to be a lawyer!"

"Nanami sensei, why are you guys even celebrating tonight?"

"We aren't."

"Huh?"

"We're doing our taxes together."

"What a bunch of losers!"

"Excuse me young lady but I didn't catch your name?"

"It's Kugisaki Nobara and you better remember it!"

"Kugisaki!"

"Now, now boys, it seems I've forgotten to hand out your gifts. Here."

"Wow! These are the good chocolate bars Fushiguro!"

"And as for you Kugisaki, please take this."

Nobara eyed the packaged and then took it. "What ever."

"Have a happy Halloween kids!"

...

"You didn't give her candy, did you?"

"If you don't mind me, I'm going to go have a nice soak in the tub with my clothes on!" __________

A poor old woman was alerted to loud knocking outside her door.

"Yes...?"

It was dark and her vision wasn't what it used to be but she somehow managed to turn the porch light on.

"Trick-Or-Treat-"

"I'm so sorry boys but I'm afraid that I'm all out of candy-"

"LET ME FINISH! As I was saying, Trick-or-Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!"

"I told you I'm all out of-"

"I'LL EGG YOUR HOUSE GRANNY! THEY DON'T CALL ME THE STRONGEST FOR NOTHING!"

"So sorry, my feeble old mind can't keep up sometimes. I just remembered where I keep my spare candy..."

"Hurry it up old lady, I've got other houses to hit up!"

"Here you go. Remember to savour every bite!"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks I guess?"

Geto/Nurse Kenny and Gojo then walked away from the property. "That women definitely put a razor blade in there..."

"What are you talking about Suguru- ACK! Good thing I had my infinity on..."

"Let's just try to avoid causing more trouble hmm?"

"I guess you're right- WAIT IS THAT A HOMELESS MAN! Stand in front of me so he doesn't rob me of my sweets!"

"You're being ridiculous Satoru!"

"Did you just say Satoru? As in 'Gojo Satoru'!?"

"HOW IS TOJI HERE!?"

"Ask Gege. Anyway it's time for revenge!"

"WAIT, WAIT, I CAN-"

Toji then took his worm out. "LOOK AT IT!"

"STOP! PLEASE, I BEG YOU!"

"No can do. You've been a bad influence on my son and I intended to raise him from now on!"

Gojo began to have flashbacks to the human earthworm and was now puking once again. He then began to levitate but instead of being enlightened, it just resembled that scene from the exorcist.

"You have no idea how greatful I am to you..."

Toji then began to stroll off. "Now, it's time to find my son. What was his name. Meg-, Mega, Megaman? No that's not right! Megamind? Oh well, it will come to me when I teach him how to properly gamble with Hakari!"

"Not so fast!"

"Hey Sukuna!"

"Kenjaku!? Actually, nevermind, I'm not even going to ask. I swear this guy does the grossest things!"

"The two of you know each other?"

"Unfortunately..."

"Being a woman can be more enjoyable than you'd think. For instance, did you know the clitoris-"

"What the fuck!?"

"Sorry about him. He's always been like that. Anyway you've proved your usefullnes to me but I no longer need you for my plan to advance."

"Plans?"

"If I tell you, you'll just get mad and is that really how you want to go out?"

"Hey, if I'm going back the afterlife I at least want to know what for!"

"I want your sons body."

"What the hell!?"

"Not in that kind of way. I'm faithfully commited to my chef."

"I guess that makes things a little easier..."

"Any last requests?"

"Teach my boy how to gamble and go into thousands of dollars in debt."

"Tempting but no. He'll get to learn the best poems and become the top Floriculturists in Japan!"

"...You son of a bitch!"

"Mahoraga will also fill in to be his step father. Uraume, you may kill him now."

"As you wish Master!"

"At least don't turn me into an apple-"

"Impressive. You pierced right through his brainstem."

"Let us find the Fushiguro child." __________

"I think we should split up for a bit to get more candy!"

"Let's meet back here in half an hour."

Megumi was now alone and began to walk down the street. Eventually the houses were starting to disappear and the street lights were far and too few. "I guess I better summon Divine dog Totality... Here boy! Who's a good dog? You are!"

"Woof!"

"No one can no about this! Anyway I need you to help me find houses with candy... Honestly, I wish I never agreed to this stupid event!" Yuji had ordered a costume of Aki from Chainsaw Man but the order got messed up and he ended up with some girls little red riding hood outfit. He was going to destroy all the photos that Kugisaki took.

"I see a cabin up there! Let's just get this over with so I can go home!" Megumi then knocked on the door.

"Good evening... May I help you...?" The stranger looked like an androgynous albino wearing a kimono.

'And I thought my costume was weird...'

"I'm looking for some candy. It's a long story but my question is do you have any?"

"Why of course! Please, won't you come in?"

"...Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Do you want the candy or not!"

"Alright, fine."

...

"Here you are. My world famous finger sandwiches!"

"I thought you said you had candy? Actually, whatever, I'm desperate to go back with something. Thanks."

Megumi tried to grab some but Uraume snatched the plate away. "Please, you must try some! They are to die for!"

"To be honest, you're creeping me out, but if I eat one of these will you let me leave?"

"Yes."

"Alright then." Megumi then fell unconscious and slammed into the table.

"That was... easier than expected..."

"I know right? What does that idiot Gojo bother to teach them anyway? Wait, what is this kid wearing?"

Uraume then checked the tag. "I believe it is a little red riding hood my lord."

"The things that pass for fashion these days. Uraume, bring me my women's kimono."

"Yes Master!" __________

"I can't believe it!"

"What's wrong Kugisaki?"

"You remember that jackass we ran into earlier? It turns out that what he gave me was a referral card for a therapy session!"

"Honestly, you kind of deserved it..."

"Well, what'd you get?"

"I ran into this guy that looked like he was a Jojo character or something? He gave me free coupons for some reason. Here, have one."

"Why are these blank?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, your back Fushiguro."

"Hey, what happened to your costume? And why do you look like Sukuna?"

"...I thought if I mimicked his appearance then it would spite him..."

"I guess that makes sense. Hey, did you bring any candy?"

"Oh no, I uh forgot..."

"Too bad- Huh, what happened here?"

There was some vomit on the ground but other than that there was two giant bags full of candy.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We can't just steal Kugisaki!"

"Who the hell is gonna call on us?"

"The ghostbusters?"

"Itadori, you just look away and you don't have to be involved while I haul all the goodies back."

"Alright..."

"Disgusting! Why can't the two of you be normal!?" __________

"Ow, where am I?"

"You're in the infirmary."

"Shoko... What's going on? Where's Suguru?"

"Oh, you mean this guy?"

Sitting next to her was Kenjaku tied up with duct tape over his mouth.

"Mmm, I want my nurse to treat me!"

"That's not Suguru..."

"What are you talking about?"

"We found this guy trying to haul your corpse into the river. Frankly, we don't even know who he is. Geto Suguru has been dead for years!"

"If that's not my pookie then who is it!"

"Let's find out, shall we?" Shoko then began to remove the stiches and unscrew the top base of the head off.

"KENJAKU!?"

"And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for your meddlesome friends!"

"Well that takes care of everything-"

"Wait! Where the hell is my candy!?"

"We didn't find any candy at the crime scene..."

"WHERE IS IT!?"

"Try to calm down-"

"I CAN'T! DON'T YOU REALIZE HOW BADLY I NEED THIS!? I ONLY GET THREE HOURS OF SLEEP!"

"You're going to give yourself diabetes!"

"DON'T CARE! I"LL JUST USE REVERSE CURSED TECHNIQUE!"

"GOJO, COME BACK!" __________

"GUYS, WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY! WE NEED TO FIND MY CAN-"

Gojo was greeted to the sight of Yuji and Nobara chowing down on sweets like it was their last meal.

"YOU TRAITORS!"

"Look, we can explain-"

"I need the three of you to step away from the food!"

"Megumi? Why are you acting like this? You were always such a sweet boy like your adoptive father!"

"I'm not Fushiguro you fool! Haven't you noticed the four eyes or the tattoos!?"

"To be honest, I thought it was just part of his costume sensei..."

"Me too-"

"Enough! Now back away from treats!"

"What could a curse like you possibly want with my sweets!"

"I was an unwanted child. I was starving so I resorted to eating my brother in the womb! I need all the nourishment I can get! Besides, Halloween is the one day of the year where you can't be judged for having for eyes, four arms and two tounges!"

"Womp, womp!"

"YOU WANT TO FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!?"

"Here's a better idea! I'm going to eat my candy and watch you cry like a baby!"

"We'll see about that!" Sukuna then incarnated into his true form.

"More hands means more candy!" He then used his stomach tongue to scoop up a large portion of food.

"That's cheating- WHY AM I GETTING SO MANY RAZOR BLADES!?"

"If you don't want them then it just means more iron for me!" __________

"Ugh, my stomach hurts Shoko..."

"Serves you right!"

"At least I'm fine-" Sukuna's stomach then puked all over his lower half.

"Haha- Ow!"

"Sit still would you?"

...

"Here are your results. You both need major dental work."

"WHAT!?"

"Let me finish would you? Sukuna's teeth are in bad shape due to there being no toothpaste in the Heian era."

"What the hell is a toothpaste?"

"And you Gojo, have so many cavities that it looks like you'll need dentures!"

"BUT I'VE BEEN USING REVERSE CURSED TECHNIQUE!?"

"Yes well that still isn't a substitute for brushing your teeth twice a day!"

"TWICE!?"

"In your case I would say ten times a day..."

"Looks like my teeth were the strongest after all-" Just then every tooth but one in the front fell out of Sukuna's mouth.

"Holy shit, it's Thukuna!"

"ARE YOU THUCKING KIDDING ME!?"

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nycbaby21 · 1 year ago

Text

Quinn Hughes Imagine

prompt: “I’m sorry. I just had to see you.“

word count: 1,865

The final buzzer of the game was normally met with cheers and excitement at Rogers Arena, but tonight it was filled with heavy sighs and disappointed fans. This was the third game in a row they had lost and you can see how frustrated the guys were getting. Not wanting to bother watching the sad and irritated post-game interviews, I lean over and turn off the tv. I had never been a huge hockey girl, that is until I moved to Vancouver for work and moved in next door to one of the Canucks. Many months ago when I was lugging boxes into the apartment building I bumped into the tall blonde with a huge smile. He immediately stopped what he was doing and helped with what would have taken me hours by myself. After a repayment meal and a lengthy conversation about how it was truly criminal, I had never been to a hockey game, a quick and solid friendship was made with Brock.

I made my way over to the kitchen and turned on the oven for some cookies. Normally when Brock and the guys have a hard game he usually ends up over at mine. He says it helps him because he doesn’t feel like being alone after. Recently some of the other guys have started coming along, which I actually really enjoy. I was so scared that I wouldn’t make friends and be so alone moving to a completely new country, but I feel like I am a member of the team with how many hockey players file in and out of my place. Sometimes they show up even when Brock isn’t around.

My phone rings when I am placing the cookie sheet in the oven. I reach over and answer already knowing who it was. It was a running joke in our friendship that Brock looked like Prince Charming from Shrek, so his ringtone was quickly changed from the default one to I’m Too Sexy for My Shirt from the second movie. I can’t help but smile when I hear the sound. “Hey B,” I say trying to gauge his mood based on his facial features. It was too dark in his car for me to tell. “Hey y/n,” he sighs and I can hear the disappointment in his voice. A frown appears on my face before I could help it. I didn’t know what to say to make it better so we just sat in silence, a comfortable one. “I have a batch of your favorites in the oven waiting for you,” I tell him hoping to bring a small smile to the blonde’s face. A big sigh leaves his mouth,” I’m not coming home tonight. Remember that girl I went out with last week,” he starts and I nod,” Well she came to the game tonight and invited me over.”

“That’s okay Boes. I’ll just put them up for you and drop them by sometime tomorrow.” That seems to lift his mood the tiniest bit. “So… you are staying the night,” I smirk while raising my eyebrows ridiculously. He glances down at the phone seeing my face and busts out laughing. My work for the night was done by making my best friend smile after a tough night. “Grow up dork,” he laughs and soon his whole face lights up when he parks and reaches for the overhead lights. He quickly fiddles around the car grabbing his bag and then turning back to face me. “Okay well I’m here so I guess I see you when I see you,” he says getting out and heading towards her door. “Okay bye B. And hey at least you can say you scored tonight, the other guys can’t,” I say trying to hold a straight face but failing. “Oh, my god. I’m hanging up now. I actually hate you,” his words don’t match the beaming smile on his face. “Love you too,” I say while hanging up the phone.

The quick beeps of the oven alert me to the cookies being done. As I plate the last couple I hear a knock on my door. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I wonder who it could be this late since Brock isn’t home. I head to the door quietly and peek through the peephole seeing one of his teammates. I stand back confused for one second and then quickly shake it off opening the door. I look up and meet the eyes of the last player I thought would show up after a bad game. Quinn Hughes stood in the hallway in his game-day suit and dripping hair. “Oh my gosh, Quinn. You must be freezing,” I rush to pull him into my apartment. “I’m sure I have something that will fit give me one second,” I say rushing off to my room and pulling out a pair of my dad’s old college sweats that I stole when I moved. I grab a random sweatshirt because almost all of mine are oversized anyway and find him in the same position I left him in. The only difference is the door is now closed and his hockey bag was on the floor.

“Okay, these should work. But if not I can always run over to Brock’s and grab something,” it looks like my words fall deaf on his ears because he hasn’t even looked at me the whole time I was talking. “Quinn, did you hear me? Are you okay,” I ask slowly walking towards him and trying to hand him the clothes. He finally lifts his head and I can see the tears in his beautiful eyes. “Oh Quinn,” I whisper as I take one final step forward and wrap my arms around him. Having known him for months now, I know Quinn isn’t the biggest fan of physical touch, especially with people he isn’t really all that close with. When I make it close enough to him, he collapses in my arms letting out soft sobs breaking my heart in the process. Quinn was the guy who always had everything together, and seeing him let down his walls was new territory for me.

Quickly circling my arms around the tall defencemen, I stand in the middle of my apartment with the boy letting all of my emotions out. I rub my hand up and down his back slowly and whisper small things to him like “It’s okay Quinn let it all out” and “I know I know.” My arms had gone numb five minutes ago but I was going to stay in his embrace until he pulled away. As if he had read my mind he shyly pulled away and looked down at me with red eyes. A stray tear falls down his cheek and without a second thought, I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb leaving my hand resting on his face. I go to pull it away feeling too intimate but he encircles my wrist with his hand and leans into mine more. A small smile faces upon my face accompanied by a red blush. Now was not the time to be thinking about how attractive I found him or how many times I had wished he would be the one to show up with Brock after a game.

“Wanna go sit down in the living room. I can turn something on or we can talk if you want to,” I speak gently eyes scanning his face. A small nod gives me his answer and I slip my hand from his cheek and lace our fingers together. After he left and changed I started getting him settled in the middle of my couch and I try to round the back of it to grab one of the thousands of throw blankets I have. His grip on my hand on tightens eyes jumping to look at me and figure out why I am leaving him. I laugh lightly and reach for the closest blanket and fall back into his embrace on the couch. I lean back into the corner of it and gently pull him back into me. He rests his head in the crook of my neck and I hesitantly run my fingers through his dark hair. He releases a small sound of enjoyment so I continue until my hand goes numb.

Using the remote I turned on some Adam Sandler movie I had started the night before but fell asleep during. The only reason I even knew he was awake was when he let out a small laugh at the scene. My hand falls from his head when he looks up at me with childlike eyes. I swear even if he wasn’t so close he could have still heard my heartbeat increase. I sent him a smile and he returned it just as big. “Thank you,” his voice was rough from his recent tears. “You don’t have to thank me, Quinn.” He really didn’t need to thank me, I felt like I should be the one thanking him for letting me be the person he lets his walls down to. “Brock always talks about how you have these magical hugs. Like how after every win he feels so much better after hugging you in the halls, or how after every loss they make him feel just the smallest bit less shitty,” he says sitting up and looking anywhere but my eyes. I let out a laugh at this because I had heard Brock says this before, I’m sure everyone he has met has. “I’m sorry. I just had to see you and see if he was right,” he started,” and he was.” The smile that graced his face was one I wanted to freeze time for and just stare at it for a little longer.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help. You don’t have to be sorry either. I am actually so happy I finally got a hug from the huggy bear,” I laugh watching his face fill with blush as he laughs too. We stare at each other for a couple of minutes only breaking eye contact at one of the many random noises Adam Sandler makes. We settle back into the couch sitting shoulder to shoulder, feeling so content. Neither of us speaks, we just sit there on the couch enjoying each other's company and watching the ending of the movie. I hand him the remote to pick the next one and while his eyes drift across the screen looking for something, I let mine land on his face trying to memorize every small detail of it. I break my gaze when I hear the opening to Mighty Ducks and laugh at him. He shakes his head and smiles,” What, it’s a good movie.” I reach to fix the blanket on our legs when he stops me and looks over. “Do I smell cookies,” he questions laughing as his stomach grumbles. I nod jumping up and bringing him the container I was supposed to bring Brock. At that moment I didn’t even care that I would have to make more in the morning. The smile on Quinn’s face made it all feel worth it.

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #brock boeser #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nycbaby21works

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dontbesoweirdkira · 2 months ago

Text

A/N: I accidentally deleted the anon request yall- I’m so sorry! But I really hope they see this post and enjoy the oneshot.

Plot: “Basically Paulie is longing for a family and is willing to whatever it takes to make himself fuffiled and happy.” This takes place after Paulie robs the bank. He later that night, goes to your place and he takes you with him. You guys are in the car together and the themes of his loneliness are explored

Warnings: the anon did request Yandere and so as you know…unhealthy themes are discussed.

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

"I-i'm sorry doll...i just really have to do this." Paulie's voice was laced with much sorrow. He anxiously gripped the wheel tighter and uncomfortably shifted in his seat. A part of him felt so guilty for the sin he had committed. Forcefully putting you in the situation was never what he had truly wanted...but he had an itch that needed to be scratched.

You sat still in the backseat of his semi-decent car. Your body leaned over against the cold metal door as your head rested on the foggy window. Your hands were tightly tied together with a short piece of rope but your legs were free. Paulie just didn't want you opening the car door or trying to grab the steering wheel to escape. But honestly, he didn't need to worry about that. Your mind wasn't on escaping but rather the why. Why did he take you like this and what was he planning to do with you?

Paulie had been a good friend of yours for a while. Sure, you knew of his many issues but never for a moment did you think you'd be tied up in the backseat of his car going to who-knows-where. He did confess his feelings for you not too long ago, and though you rejected it, he seemed to take everything pretty well. Things remained relatively normal between you two..well..until tonight.

Paulie was at your door late into the evening. It didn't catch you off guard because sometimes he'd stop at your place for a drink and a little chat before going home. But tonight, he acted unusual. He sat and had a drink like normal but he was visibly nervous. Something seemed to weigh down on his mind. He blew it off when you asked and equated it to a stressful night at work. You noticed that he couldn't keep eye contact with you, his hands were fidgety, and he couldn't seem to calm down even as the night went on. Wanting to be a supportive friend, you told him to wait while you get a stronger handle out of your closet to help him loosen up. Next thing you knew, he came from behind you and dragged you out into his car. There wasn't much you could do to fight back as he was much bigger and stronger than you were. So, unfortunately, here you were..

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look in his rearview mirror to check on you. Your body was shaking a bit and it was obvious that you were trying to make your body as small as possible. Part of it was because you were cold, but the other was due to you being just as scared and anxious as he. The naive part of you thought that maybe if you shrink down, you’d actually disappear.

"Are you cold?" Your eyes looked up and met with his in the mirror. His expression was filled with genuine concern. Paulie truly did care about you, but he was just an impulsive man.

A few moments passed before you could answer

"..mhmm.." your voice was soft and it was clear that you were trying not to cry. Paulie fiddled with the nobs on his dashboard before he spoke again..

"it should warm up in a little bit, hun.." He was looking at you again through the mirror, this time with a gentle smile. He wanted to make you happy. It didn't last long though for the disparity on your face plagued him.

The tension in the car was thick and he knew there was a lot that was on your mind. He knew you had questions you needed to be answered...He knew how much you probably hated him right now.

Paulie tapped his fingers against the worn leather of the wheel. He stared into the long, empty road ahead of him. He honestly didn't even know exactly where he was going but he knew the both you needed to get far out of Lost Haven. He messed up big time. He went against the Don and the wiser of his two friends. Paulie robbed the city’s bank, taking thousands from them at gun point. Stupid, he knows, but it was a risk he had to take. He was tired of that life. He was tired of being unhappy every day, going to brothels just to feel something, he yearned for a normal life. One where he had a wife, kids and a normal 9-5. Being beaten, shot, and yelled at every day since youth does something to you. His childhood wasn't even a time of bliss for him, he's been stuck in a crappy reality forever.

"paulie...?" your fragile voice interrupted his thoughts, earning a surprised 'hmm?' out of him

Your break of silence wasn't expected but always welcomed as when you spoke his name, it was like heaven in his ears. You hesitated before you asked your question, not sure if you truly wanted to know the answer. But—the possibilities of what was going to happen to you was eating you alive.

"Are you….going to kill me..?" Your voice became even more unstable than before as you thought further into the possibility. It made sense. You knew a lot about Paulie, including his affiliation with the Don. You also probably knew things about the family that you probably shouldn't.

"What-?No, I'd never hurt you babydoll..."

Paulie's head hung low and an exhausted sigh was let out. His body slouched back bit in his seat. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have at the moment. His reasonings for doing all of this are selfish and quite pathetic…

"I want a family..." he didn't look up into the mirror this time while speaking to you. He was ashamed of his words and your possible reaction to them.

"...And I want that with you. One just like Tom has…I'm tired of dodging bullets for Sallieri. I'm getting old. I want a nice house and I want that pizza shop I've told you about. We could run it together and everything-"

You shook your head at the idea. You backed further into the corner of your car seat. Your legs propped up on the chair and close to your chest. He was delusional..

Is this what everything was really about? This was the reason he took you? There was no way he was going to try to force this, right???

"Paulie, no…”

“Please just—“

“No..no..Paulie, I already told you that I don't feel this way about you. I thought were were cool as just f—"

"I don’t want to be ‘just’ your friend! I need to be more...I just need this.…”

Meeting you has been the best thing to come out of his cursed life. You're the only thing that's made him actually think about a life past the mob. You're the whole reason he robbed the bank and actually decided to leave. Just to be able to have a life with you. He now has more than enough money to take care of you and provide whatever you need. Yes, he knows that you don't want him romantically but that'll all change once you get adjusted in your new life. You'll see how perfect he is for you..how much he's willing to change. He'll be a good husband if you'll let him.

"Y/N, not even my closest friends and family believe I could ever find happiness. Y'know how that feels? Do you know what it does to a person for everyone to think that lowly of you?" His question was rhetoric.

Of course, you didn't know. In contrast to his, your life was far better. You had a nice job, apartment, and social life. Your singleness was by choice, not a lack of interest. Plus everyone thought very highly of you. You had every chance of finding fulfillment whereas he didn't.

Actually, everyone poked fun at the fact you were so friendly with Paulie. No one could understand how a broad like you could stand within ten feet of him. Sam pissed himself at the mention of Paulie asking you out. Tom gave a hopeless pat on his back.

Your silence was defening...

Paulie pulled over onto the side of the dimly lit highway. He dropped his head down onto the wheel, taking a moment to collect himself. His emotions were starting to raise and he didn't want to take anything out on you. He loved you so much, he just was frustrated about everything.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around to face you. He examined you for a moment, guiltily taking in all of your beauty. Even in the frightened state you were in, you still had no flaws. Your teary eyes made contact with his and the frustration nearly melted away. Your doe-like orbs somehow still twinkled in the low lighting. His obsession with you was unwavering regardless of how badly he felt about everything.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart." Paulie reached out a hand and rested it on your knee. Using one thumb, he rubbed circles in an attempt to comfort you.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win you over. I want us to have a life together so badly. I'm not letting you go anywhere until you love me back and we are finally happily married. I've sacrificed everything to do this...to just be happy." Climbing over the middle compartment, he planted a loving kiss on your forehead and then sat back down.

He buckled up his seatbelt and started up the vehicle again.

One thing was for certain, two things for sure, when it came to Paulie. He was a stubborn and dangerous man who was true to his word. You knew that he was never giving up on this love for you. There was no use in fighting further…he was going to get his way one way or another…

#headcanon #paulie lombardo imagine #Yandere Paulie Lombardo #imagines #oneshot #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #mafia definitive edition #mafia trilogy #tommy angelo #paulie lombardo x reader #yandere mafia #mafia imagines #mafia headcanon #yandere sam trapani #drabble

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charles-simmons-fanfiction · 5 months ago

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Their very first year at Welton - Described by Steven Meeks

Description: the tittle is kinda self explanatory. [1,3k words]

The prompt is inspired by @i-love-steven-meeks :3 I had fun writing this. It's pretty much just my personal hcs for pre-canon and there's a few more that I didn't include here actually, so I might make more posts on pre-canon stuff. Anyway, hope you enjoy <3

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡.

The year was 1955. I was twelve, and starting seventh grade.

I had only been in Welton for a week and already missed home. It's not that I wasn't grateful for being at such a prestigious academy, but I had no time to do anything anymore. I had hoped I would at least have the weekends to go explore the library, yet soon I realized weekends were barely enough to finish all the assignments we were given.

The other guys in my class seemed to be in a similar situation, maybe even worse, actually. It didn't take long for some students to start realizing how tough the classes were.

There were a few boys that would stand out, as there usually is. Charlie Dalton and Neil Perry were two of them. They would laugh too loud, talk too much, and generally be disruptive. Charlie, contrary to Neil, was a huge back-talker to the teachers. He got particularly mad at a professor one day, when Neil asked to to go the bathroom and was denied. (I think they even called his parents to complain about him). Both of them mostly talked to each other, and it was clear they were already friends from before Welton.

Every once in a while, the class would be asked to pair up for some project. For as long as it was possible, I did the projects on my own. Pair or groups were always stressful and I like things to be done my way, which was often the right way. Eventually, a professor said no and forced me to look for a pair. That was when I started to get to know my roommate, Gerard Pitts, who also did most of his projects alone.

Pitts was quiet to the point no one actually knew what his voice sounded like. He was the tallest in class and seemed to be a very serious guy. At first, I thought he was intimidating, but soon I realized he was just terribly shy.

Being roommates with him was easy. Most of our interactions could be summarized by "good evening", "good morning" and "can I open the window?". And that was that for at least the whole first month, until the exams started. Pitts barely even slept sometimes, studying for hours on end and still barely getting decent grades.

I offered to help, and that's what I consider the beginning of our friendship. Although Gerard himself would disagree. According to him, we officially became friends when he made a reference to Aslan from Narnia and I actually got it.

As we started to learn how to manage all the school work, we were left with some free time that was mostly used to read and chat outside. Everything seemed boring when it rained though.

It was one of those days. A Saturday without homework was rare, and it was truly a shame how much it was raining. Me and Pitts sat on the stairs, feeling bored while watching the older students pass by.

"Hey, you two," someone called. It took us some time to realize we were the ones being spoken to. I looked up and saw Charlie and Neil, who I still hadn't interacted with before. "Want to play hide and seek? We need more people."

Gerard shrugged, so I said yes.

(Sometimes I wonder how many things would've been different if I hadn't done that. A few days ago, out of curiosity, I asked Charlie what his thoughts were on the matter. His answer was: "nothing, we would've become friends some other way", which is nice to think about.)

We played for pretty much the whole day and probably would've for longer if it wasn't for the chemistry teacher telling us to go back to our dorms at night. Neil won more times than all of us together, and Charlie bruised a knee while he ran from Pitts (who was very unsurprisingly faster), but we hadn't had that much genuine fun in a while anyway and I really needed some reason to laugh at the time. It's a day I hold dear in my memories. Little me had no idea how close I would grow to those people. Heaven knows it was hard for some of us to be away from home for so long.

In a couple months, the teachers already hated our quartet. Even though we didn't even particularly misbehave during class, we were insufferable to deal with if we were all together. I'd be lying if I said I'm proud of how I was, I was pretty stupid sometimes y'know. Not that I ever met anyone who likes their 12 years old self.

Something curious I particularly remember is thinking that Charlie was kind of a bully, and being quite confused on how he was even friends with someone as nice as Neil. As the weeks passed though, I started noticing he only picked on me and Pitts if he knew we weren't upset for real. Turns out Charlie was actually the sweetest out of us, in his own way.

He saw me crying once. I will admit that I did cry a lot in my first year. I missed my room, my old school and my parents. Charlie made some joke about me needing to man up, I don't even remember exactly what he said. I think joking was his first instinct, the guy didn't really know what to do. He apologized later, and stayed with me until I stopped crying.

I mentioned that story to him in tenth grade one time, and he didn't really remember. He had just had a big fight with Neil and they didn't talk for like two weeks. It's the only time I ever saw Charlie cry. I did his homework for him that day and let him stay in my dorm for a while. He ended up falling asleep on my bed, so I had to sleep with Gerard. None of us ever mentioned it again, there was no reason to.

It was in that year that Cameron joined the group, because he was assigned to be Charlie's new roommate. I'm impressed they even let Neil and Charlie be in the same room for that long actually. The two scream so much, no wonder they had to switch rooms.

Knox, on the other hand, didn't share a room with any of us. We became friends in early eighth grade, as far as I can recall. My first impression of him was that he was pretty annoying. Time only proved me right, yet we got along surprisingly well. He became a part of the group quite quickly, although he and Charlie would argue a lot.

I can't quite process it's been four years since I became a student at Welton. It feels like a whole life. What's weird is that as much as I hate this place, I wouldn't change it for the world. Some people are meant to meet, y'know. Right now, I'm currently sitting on my bed as I write this, and Pitts is on his bed, snoring. I'm in eleventh grade now, and there's a new addition to our group. His name's Todd Anderson, he's roommates with Neil. He seems nice, I like him already.

I don't know exactly why I'm writing this. I guess I just want to keep these memories written somewhere, for me to read again someday.

Maybe in the future, like a decade later, I'll be able to bring this up if we still make the dead poets' meetings. I hope we're all still together by then, but I'm not too worried about it. Unless some of us die, we'll be.

I gotta go to sleep now. This was fun to write though.

-Steven Meeks, 1959

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡.

#this feels self indulgent if I'm being honest #but it'll post it anyway. why not #steven meeks #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dps boys

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icee133 · 7 months ago

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Sorry!! Just realized I set the auto post to the wrong day -_- It took me way too long to notice this part wasn't posted. Better late than never I suppose. On that note here's Part 8 of the Marionette series! Hope you guys enjoy this one. Sorry for any writing errors.

If you would like to be added to taglist let me know!

The Marionette

Masterlist, Part 8 🤍

Word count for this part: 2431. Enjoy!👻👻

Synapsis:

A new overlord has manifested in hell seemingly overnight. One that overpowered many if not all of the current overlords in all the right ways. Will this overlord use her powers for good to help the members of the hotel? Will she fall in love with a man and end up in a loving gentle relationship? Or will she get her heart broken and turn against them all, burning each bridge she meticulously made.

The Marionette is a heart wrenching fic with many turns you won't see coming. Stay tuned for each of the episodes as they are released.

¯⁠\⁠_⁠ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ⁠_⁠/⁠¯¯⁠\⁠_⁠ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ⁠_⁠/⁠¯¯⁠\⁠_⁠ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ⁠_⁠/⁠¯¯⁠\⁠_⁠ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ⁠_⁠/⁠¯¯⁠\⁠_⁠ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Nette made her way back to Lucifer’s apple-shaped office trying to slow her breathing down, feeling her heightened anxiety about everything she was about to have to tell him. She knew he wouldn’t be upset at her- at least she hoped he wouldn’t be. But honestly she thinks he might be since she didn’t throw out the first man as soon as she found out about him. Though she had wanted to, but truthfully she holds no grudge against him other than the fact her boys had almost died to an exorcist. Charlie on the other hand has every reason to hold a grudge against him, and yet…she didn’t. She looked at him seeing what he was going through and allowed him into the hotel. Took him under her wing and cared for him, cleaned his wounds even. The heart this girl has is something Nette finds herself admiring more and more as each day goes on. Truly an angelic heart if she had ever seen one.

As Nette approached the door she could hear Lucifer inside talking to himself. He seemed a bit off? If that was a good way to put it. She could hear his rapid speech and panicked tone through the door. She smiled lightly thinking ‘what could possibly have him stressed out now’ while laughing quietly to herself. She knocked on the door lightly to alert him of her arrival. She heard a quick ‘coming!’ from the other side waiting a sec before the door swung open. She quickly gave the Angel in front of her a once over from head to toe. He had his coat and hat placed meticulously back onto his form. Though she couldn’t help but feel he was a bit overdressed considering when she had spoken to him last he was wearing neither of them. However, when she walked into the room she saw there was a table in the center of the room with flowers, and candles in the center. She placed the plates down onto the table, setting the tray off to the side before looking back at him. She lightly chuckled then saying “you know this isn’t a formal business dinner, right? Just a dinner between friends. No need to be so nervous Luci” seeing him looking around at everything but her. “Ah r-right of course…yes Dinner” He stumbled over his words a bit before settling on “Dinner between friends. I suppose I overdid it a bit. It’s been awhile since I’ve had anyone join me for a meal. I was worried what exactly I should do for… well this situation.” ‘It’s alright Luci no worries everything looks absolutely stunning thank you. but if I had to make one complaint… I do feel a tad bit under dressed at the moment Mr full suit.” Lucifer laughed slightly “well we can’t have that” proceeding to take off his coat and hat once again placing them on the side table out of the way.

Lucifer pulled out Nette’s chair allowing her to sit comfortably before sliding her back into place at the table. “My what a gentleman” she chuckled. Watching as Lucifer’s cheeks turned a light yellow color as he went to his side of the table to take a seat. “I brought a bottle of wine from the bar but I’m not sure if you were wanting to drink, as unfortunately I have another topic I have to discuss with you, but I’d rather wait till we were finished with dinner as I do believe it to possibly be well…uncomfortable” Lucifer looked at her before saying “well if you think it to be so, then I suppose it’s best to wait a bit. And best to not drink beforehand as there is a possibility it might be needed after” he joked lightly. “For this I guarantee it will be needed after” They both began eating the meal Nette had prepared engaging in small talk about the angel’s duties and the hotel staff. As well as, venturing into stories about Charlie and how razzle and dazzle came to be created. After all Nette was a bit curious about the 2 dragon creatures as they seemed to be different from the rest of hell creatures.

The meal went amazing. Afterwards Nette and Lucifer both found themselves sitting on the couch in his office laughing about the story Lucifer was telling about how ducks came to be created in Eden when Nette remembered the touchy subject she had to tell him about. “Speaking of Eden…” Nette paused slightly. “I hate to sour the mood but, I suppose we should get into the unfortunate discussion that I have to tell you.” “Nonsense, give me a sec I’ll open the wine” Lucifer said while standing up walking over to the side table where Nette had left the bottle earlier. He quickly opened it and poured a glass for himself and her before returning, handing it to Nette. He sat down on the other side of the couch facing her taking a small sip before saying “Great choice of wine. Well go on let’s get this uncomfortable topic over with” Nette watched the way he had placed himself seemingly a lot more comfortable with her presence as he was leaning backwards with one leg bent on the couch while the other was hanging over the edge. “Right, well I’m not sure how to tell you this. I was thinking the entire time I was making dinner, then again after I spoke with Angel, and even the entire walk up here. After all that the only thing I could think of was to just be honest and upfront with you about it. Either way I feel you're not going to like it, but…” Nette said taking a small sip then placed her glass down on the table before continuing “I need you to promise me you won’t freak out.” Lucifer smirked “Freak out? Nette, I'm an Angel.” Nette rolled her eyes slightly “I’m aware you handsomely prideful man, but I need this promise okay?” She said hoping he would understand there was a reason. “Of course, I promise I won’t freak out. Devil’s honor” Lucifer said holding 2 fingers upwards smiling at her. Nette chuckled lightly at his devil's honor joke, sighing she continued “Charlie took in a new sinner…..” she started “Okay?” Lucifer said carefully, slightly pushing her to tell him why this was different from the other ones she had taken in. “It’s… well… He’s a sinner, but he um.” Lucifer set his glass down before leaning into her slightly “Nette it’s okay just tell me I promised I wouldn’t freak out” Nette’s anxiety was through to roof at this point. She thought to herself ‘fuck it’ before saying “Adam is a fallen Angel, or I guess a sinner in this case since he isn’t heaven born I guess he isn’t fallen.” The room fell deathly silent after Nette finished her sentence. You could hear a pin drop, the only sound being both of their breathing. Or wait no Lucifer’s breathing Nette realized she was holding her breath.

“What?.” She heard Lucifer say after what felt like an eternity of silence. “Adam is alive and is now a sinner” she hesitantly repeated looking down at her lap as she was nervous to look at the man sitting across from her. “You said Charlie took in a sinner, is?” “Yes” Nette quickly answered. She felt the room get hotter almost instantly. She hesitantly looked up, meeting Lucifer’s red eyes. She quickly realized he was in his demon form. A form she had never seen him use, one she had hoped she wouldn’t see. Red eyes, horns with a burning flame, wings, and his tail swinging menacingly behind him. “My daughter took in the man who killed her friend, wrecked the hotel, almost killed her, injured the staff, and is responsible for the extermination of every single human soul they have gotten rid of down here.” Nette could hear an almost growl-like sound coming from behind his voice. One that she had to admit was strangely hot, yet insanely intimidating as well. (Wait- what? No this man could very well end your fucking life right now. Wait, it's Lucifer he wouldn’t hurt you. stop thinking stupid shit and speak woman before he actually does kill you fucking idiot.) “Yes” she found herself barely squeaking out this one word. Cursing herself for agreeing to put herself in this very situation. Lucifer stood up seemingly seething with an unkept rage. Nette quickly grabbed his arm before he could step away from the couch silently thanking she had sat on the side closest to the door. He snapped his head looking directly at her. His eyes burning into her own with what felt like almost a sense of… hurt? Behind them. “You promised” she said quietly. Scared she would say the wrong thing and make it worse. Lucifer sighed quietly to himself before returning to his normal form and taking a seat beside her. “Is she okay?” He asked the overlord sitting next to him. “Yes, Vaggie was with her the last time I checked.” “Why?” Lucifer asked, looking across the room. “Why?… she said when she found him she wanted to leave him there to rot. To let him waste away like he deserved to for everything he had done to the people down here, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t allow herself to leave him there. She also said he is one of the only ones who has been able to see the winners who got into heaven, and also see the sinners who ended up here. She thinks he would be useful in redeeming sinners. Though I don’t think he would even be willing to help.” Nette said carefully while looking at Lucifer. She could tell he was still upset but felt a little better knowing it was Charlie who had made the decision.

“Her heart of gold is going to get her hurt one of these times” Nette heard Lucifer whisper, though it didn’t feel like it was something she should have heard so she stayed quiet just looking at him stare at the wall across the room.“I…think it’s a decent idea to ask for his help, but it does put us in a rather hard place. If heaven finds out a winner fell, more so the first man. Things will get extremely ugly and who knows what they will do.” She couldn’t help but also voice her concerns on the matter. Knowing what she did about heaven, she was worried about what laid ahead of them now that this happened. Lucifer turned his body facing her before saying “you weren’t joking about needing a drink after that.” She saw him reach for his glass drinking what was remaining in it before setting it down again. He turned back to face her directly “I’m sorry” Nette stared at him confused as to why he was apologizing to her. “What for Lucifer?” “Breaking the promise.” He whispered to her. She quickly grabbed his hands “it’s okay I know it was not something that was able to be prepared for. And it was definitely not something that could have been predicted.” “Still I broke a promise I made with you” she could tell he was very upset about this. Though Nette found herself unsure as to why he was. She was a bit upset at herself for underestimating the care he had for his daughter. The level of stress this topic would bring him was not something she had calculated in. That was her fault not his. “Lucifer, it's okay. It’s your daughter, I understand your need to protect her. After all, I think I would react the same way had it been one of my boys. So no need to apologize. Okay?” “Okay” he replied hesitantly. She knew he would still be upset about it for a while longer but decided it was for the best to let it go. She turned to grab her glass wanting to move on from this topic entirely. Feeling even worse about her souring the good mood from earlier as the tension sat in the air was still quite thick.

“You can still call me Luci, you know.” Nette froze. “Ah you… sorry I didn’t ask before using a nickname for you.” “It’s okay, I quite like it.” Lucifer said, smiling at her. “Oh…so I can give you another one?” She teased “Like what Nette?” Gosh she really enjoyed hearing her name fall from his lips. (Nette what the fuck now is not the time for that) “Since you like ducks so much how about duckie? Ooh or what about goose? Nah geese are mean you're definitely not mean enough for that. Waddles? No too weird, that's like describing a thing, not a nickname.” Lucifer was smiling watching her ramble while thinking hard about a nickname for him. “Does that mean I can give you one too?” He found himself asking. “Of course your majesty whatever you wish.” Nette giggled. “Though Nette is already a nickname I’d love to hear what you come up with though” “What about… bunny?” Nette turned bright red at that. “Bunny?” She asked “why bunny?” “Your demon form is a rabbit is it not?” Lucifer smirked at her. “How…” Nette tried to ask “How do I know? I know a lot of things bunny. A lot” Nette was bright red at this point. Something about the way he says that word makes her want him to say it more. (Oh my gosh stop it) “well I suppose I don’t mind that, but I’m definitely calling you duckie now.” Nette said feeling oddly competitive about this. “Works for me bunny” she could hear the smirk dripping off his voice. Like pride itself crawling off his vocal cords and into the air as he spoke. “Duckie” she said trying to stand her ground. Knowing she has no chance against this man. None at all. “Yes bunny?” He replied. “Can’t even let me have the last word huh duckie?” “Nope, sin of pride remember bunny” Both of them felt the tension in the air from the previous discussion lighten a bit. As the night went on they addressed each other by only their new animal nicknames, refusing to be the first to back down in this nickname war. Though neither of them truly minded it at all. In fact they both quite enjoyed their new nicknames, though they wouldn’t admit it to the other one.

Taglist:

@popamolly @preciousbabypeter @amberforest08

#hazbin hotel #alastor #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin husker #hazbin lucifer #huskerdust #lucifer morningstar #marionette

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spookymystery67 · 1 month ago

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I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: I apologize if the format looks any different for this chapter. I had to post it through the app which I hadn't done before, but the website WOULD NOT copy-paste like it usually does so I had to try it out here. And I'm sorry for the wait everyone. I truly am trying to get myself together. I don't know why writing is so hard to do right now, but believe me, I'm sick of it too. I want my motivation back! Anyways, this chapter is just slightly shorter than the new average word count of my chapters lately. Still over 2k words, so I call that a win for my unmotivated ass. I figured the ending of this chapter was a good point to stop so I could get something out for you all. I still can't believe so many people enjoy this story and I am still so grateful for the support and love you all give. Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy!

It's concerning, and incredibly frustrating, how often Leon's life has been in danger since his arrival to Los Iluminados. You'd think the government would have trained their soldiers in stealth missions.

Chapter 22:

If they did, Leon likely failed.

You and Ada had arrived at the house just in time, with her saving Leon from a large man with a beard in a trench coat and hat. The man oddly reminded you of the Tyrant, Mr. X, you all had encountered back in Raccoon City. Granted, you couldn't get a good look at him, electing instead to remain hidden from both him and Leon so as to not cause any more issues with the mission at hand.

Ada had grappled to the roof of the house, while you had remained on the ground so she could help more easily. Hard to shoot a gun while using a grappling hook. Even harder to do so while also carrying your girlfriend.

Leon left the house shortly after the man with the beard had. So, moving swiftly, you climbed your way up the house to the second floor as Ada jumped down to the same spot from the roof. Opening the window, she nudged for you to go in first. You checked the surrounding area in case there were any enemies, before quietly climbing through the window after seeing nothing of concern.

Maybe you should have been more thorough with your search of the area, considering as soon as you found a lead to where Luis could be and went to exit the house, you both were attacked by the bearded man and friends.

It was not a fun encounter. But thanks to Ada's quick thinking and her handy dandy grappling hook, you both made it out in relatively one piece.

Finding your way to the abandoned factory, Ada took the lead and carefully entered before you. Gun in hand and ready to fight.

“Not a soul in sight.” She said, putting her gun away.

You pointed to the corpse on the floor. “No one except that guy.”

She hummed in acknowledgement. “Might have been Luis’s doing.” She activated her fancy contact lenses. “I'm picking up his footprints. This way.” She beckoned.

You were right behind her as she followed the footprints, keeping your eyes peeled for any other clues to his whereabouts, before finding his pack of cigarettes with the numbers “422 1625” written on the it.

“Is this his frequency?” Ada questioned.

“Try it out.” You shrugged.

Taking out her radio, she set it to the frequency written on the pack and you both waited with bated breath. Thankfully, Luis answers and you sighed with a smile, happy to see the man was alive.

“Ada?” He laughs in relief. “I knew you'd find me!”

“That's my job.” She responded with exasperation.

“Is Sénorita with you?” He asked. You rolled your eyes fondly. He hasn't referred to you by your actual name at all since the moment you've met. At first you found it a little annoying. Now it kind of amused you.

“Right here. I have a name you know.” You called out.

“Ah, but Sénorita rolls off the tongue better.” He teased with a grin.

Ada interrupted, not at all in the mood to deal with Luis's constant flirty comments that he enjoyed throwing at the two of you. “Are you about ready to hand over the Amber?”

“There's a big house just outside the village past the windmill. You know it?” Luis questioned.

“Yeah, I know it.”

“Then I'll meet you here. I'll be waiting.” He said, ending the call shortly after.

“Cool. Let's get out of here. I don't like this place.” You said.

“Agreed.”

Only, of course it wasn't that easy. It was at that moment a bunch of the villagers, including one with a chainsaw, decided to bombard their way into the factory and attack you both from every angle. Getting out of the fight was as difficult as it was annoying. But somehow you both managed.

You and Ada ran out the door of the abandoned factory, with Ada running ahead of you.

Clutching her head with a grunt, Ada's sudden stop instantly made you concerned and on high alert. You didn't see the creature, but you were surrounded by villagers. You both had to get out of there. Now.

“Ada? What's wrong?” You had your gun out, so when she started to faint you were unable to catch her in time.

You gasped and quickly kneeled beside her, checking her pulse and feeling relieved when you felt her heart still beating. Though it was a little fast. And there were markings that resembled veins on her face that really worried you. Whatever that creature infected her with, it was getting worse and you needed to find a cure. Fast.

But you needed to focus on one thing at a time. And that one thing was getting you and Ada safely away from the infected villagers you were surrounded by.

“Need a hand?” A cold voice drawled.

You jumped to your feet and turned around so fast you were dizzy. Yet the gun in your hand was steady. The slight blurriness of your vision cleared away soon enough and focused right on the source of that cold voice.

Wesker.

“Do I have a choice?” You practically snarled, not wanting to accept help from such an awful person. But you knew full well there wasn't any room for argument with the man.

He aimed his pistol at a nearby villager and pulled the trigger without so much as a glance away from you. “No.”

“Then by all means.” You picked Ada up to the best of your ability as Wesker took out any villager in your way, dragging her to the building he led you to and placing her on a bed once you've reached your destination safely.

Safe? Were you at all safe in the vicinity of Albert Wesker? You didn't think so. Interactions with him have to be done carefully.

And by that, you meant you have to remain silent and as far away from the man as possible until Ada wakes up. So you sat on the bed beside Ada and planned to do just that.

Until you saw Wesker making his way over to Ada with a needle.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked with alarm. He just looked at you with his usual deadpan expression.

“That's none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? I find it pretty concerning that you're trying to stick a needle in my unconscious girlfriend.”

Your reply seemed to agitate him, judging by the way his harsh features hardened even further. He walked closer to you. Far too close for comfort.

“Keep in mind that you and Ada are expendable. The moment you have little of use to me is the moment I would happily see to it you both are dead. Especially you, Y/n. The only reason you aren't dead is because I need Ada to get this done. But she is very quickly becoming a problem for me. And so are you.” Wesker looked you dead in the eye. And despite the sunglasses, you can feel the weight of his glare easily.

“Do you really want to interfere while Ada is unconscious and unable to fight back any attack to come her way?” He challenged.

You glared, rage running through you. But accepted your loss and shook your head no. You have no way of winning a fight with the man. And you sure as hell didn't want to chance it while he was so close to Ada, who was prone to any attack at the moment.

“Good. Stay in line. And you will live.” He finished, as if it was simple.

It wasn't simple. It killed you to watch Wesker draw blood from her while she was none the wiser. You felt as though you had betrayed her. And what's worse was the thought that followed after he finished obtaining her blood without her consent.

You paled in realization. He must want it for some kind of experiment. Why else would he want her infected blood? A plan B for if this whole mission turned into a failure. How many people will get hurt now because of this blood sample? How many more will die?

You already feel responsible for those lives who have yet to suffer because of this. But what choice did you have? He could hurt Ada.

Please wake up, Ada.

As if she could read your mind, she immediately gasped awake and looked around in alarm. You grabbed her hand and she flinched, before realizing it was you and relaxing slightly. She went to speak but you quickly shook your head. She was confused, until you gestured to where Wesker stood by the window.

She looked over your shoulder and her eyes widened as she noticed Wesker for the first time, with his back turned to the bed you both sat on. She quickly schooled her features before he could see her surprise.

“Having a bad day?” He asked her, putting the needle away before turning to face her completely. He was ignoring your existence now, but you didn't mind after what just had occurred with Wesker. You'll let Ada deal with him. She has the most experience with the man.

“Wesker. To what do I owe this pleasure?” She asked lightly. Though it was very clear she didn't want to deal with the man either.

Wesker was not having any of the pleasantries. “Stop wasting my time, Ada. Find Luis. Fetch me the Amber.”

“I should probably thank you for this room. Are you staying… to back us up?” She asked. You really hoped he wouldn't stay.

“I'm not here to babysit you. See that you and Y/n remain an asset. Not a liability. I have absolutely no use for your incompetence.” Wesker threatened.

Ada stood up quickly, a bit irritated. “Easy with the threats, Wesker.”

“Just get it done. I'll be in touch.” With that, Wesker walked out, carrying the case that held the needle and her blood.

Not a moment after, her radio rang. You stood to your feet as she immediately answered it. Luis's voice sounded through the speaker of the device.

“Ada! You're okay. I've been waiting and, uh, you're still coming right?” Luis asked.

“Yes, just had some business to attend to. Y/n and I are on our way now.” Ada reassured him.

“Got it. See you soon. Ciao.”

The call ended and she put the radio away, then looked at you. “You've been awfully quiet. You alright?”

Looking at her in disbelief, you responded, “Am I alright? I should be asking you that. What happened back there?”

“The infection is getting worse.” She paused. “But I should be fine. There should be enough time to get the Amber and then an antidote.”

She didn't sound so sure, and you weren't convinced. “Uh huh. And where and how are we going to get an antidote?”

She looked unsure, then shrugged. “Um, one step at a time. Come on. We have to get to Luis.”

You followed after her, exiting the house to get to the location Luis wanted to meet at. As you walked you decided to mention what Wesker did. “Ada?”

“Yes, dear?” She called over her shoulder, focusing on her surroundings yet still hearing what you have to say.

You didn't know how else to say this, so you just said it. “Wesker. H-... he took some of your blood.”

She froze in her tracks and faced you in bewilderment. Shock, confusion, then horror became evident on her face as she took in your words and quickly made the same conclusion you did when she was still unconscious not that long ago.

He stole her blood for whatever virus was currently coursing through her veins.

“He knows?” She asked you.

“That you are infected with something? I think so. I can't think of any other reason he would do this.” You paused, before sighing in defeat. “I wanted to stop him. But he threatened your life and you were unconscious and-”

“Sweety!” Ada interrupted with a raised hand. “It's fine. I completely understand. I am upset at the situation, but not with you.” She huffed. “I'm pissed off actually. At Wesker. Clearly his mother didn't teach him manners.”

“Does he have a mother? I would think he was created in a lab or something.” Not your best joke. But nonetheless, a small smile still appeared on her face.

She shook her head. “Who the hell knows. Come on, not much we can do about it now. Let's focus on Luis.”

With a nod, you followed Ada to resume your mission once more. To Luis. To the Amber. And hopefully, to an antidote for Ada before it is too late for her.

(Edit: I got rid of the spaces. Between paragraphs. Hopefully it looks better and more like the usual posts.)

#ada wong #resident evil #ada wong x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #luis sera resident evil #luis serra #luis serra resident evil #I'm pretty sure it's Serra #Not Sera #I Wish I Could Walk In Heels #idk what else to tag #albert wesker

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modyuki · 1 year ago

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Heyya Sun!, hope you're in a great shape right now!

soo can i have a Rui Kamishiro x reader(gender neutral) likee when they take a walk and chit chat and suddenly the reader like " haha.. I really love you" in a small voice(but Rui can hear it) like a reflex to say that 'cause they have soo much fun!

Thank you soo much! Love your wirtting!!

✧ · 𝐈 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 · ✧

Notes: THANK YOU I DIDN'T REALLY THINK ANYONE WOULD LIKE MY WRITING AT FIRST BUT I'M REALLY HAPPY PEOPLE DO , AND I KNOW I'VE BEEN GONE FOR A MONTH BUT LISTEN (there's not excuse I've been procrastinating 😭) , But I promise I'll try to post more frequently from now on keyword I'LL TRY. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing :3

TW:none

summary: you are talking to Rui and you accidentally confess to him

⋆ You and Rui have been friends for a long time now since the two of you were neighbors.

⋆ You and Rui Would spend More time together then the others

⋆ Rui would invite you to his house to test out his inventions he totally didn't ask the other members of wxs before

⋆ You started to develop feelings for the purple haired boy in middle school

⋆ You weren't sure what made you love him the way you did but you couldn't help but blush when hugged you or when he did that :3 face

⋆ You kept your feelings hidden during Middle School and you did not plan on telling him anytime soon neither

⋆ But you needed to let out that feeling out even if he didn't hear you

One Saturday morning Rui had invited you to hang out with Him in Phoenix Wonderland and ofcourse you agreed (who wouldn't lol)

And you used the crowded place with many people talking at once to your advantage and confess to him

...well not really but at least you'd get it out of your system right?

And then Tsukasa went flying out of the canon, although It wasn't my plan for it to go that high but it was fun, Well he did say he wanted to be a star so a shooting star should count right :3

Rui laughed at his own joke (it was not funny), You decided to just suck it up and add the "I love you" in the sentence too as you laugh at his joke too

Hahaha! You're kinda right there that's why I love you

What?

That came out louder then you intended

W-W-WHAT I SAID NOTHING HAHAHAHA THAT'S SO-

I heard you say you loved me is that true mm?

He said as he got a little bit closer to you as the both you entered the Farris wheel and he sat a little closer to you waiting for you answer

Still waiting for your answer

He putted a hand on top of yours to reassure you

Yes It is true..

Y/N I-

You don't have to return my feelings just because you don't wanna feel bad I understand if you-

He then pull you into a hug laying your head against his chest as he replied...

I love you too Y/N and I return your feelings because I truly feel the same way about you, I really love you

You return his hug and when you finally pull away from the hug , the two of you looked into eachothers eyes and shared a nice sweet kiss

⋆ After that you guys spent the rest of the ride with you having your head layed on his shoulder and him having his head into top of his while the both of held hands

⋆ You can say without doubt that that was the best day in your life and you'll forever remember this day

⋆ Even you didn't plan on him listening what you were saying , you were glad he did.

Notes: I APOLOGIZE AGAIN FOR PROCASTINATING I'M SORRY LISTEN I HAVEN'T EVEN PLAYED MY GAMES BECAUSE OF PROCASTINATION BUT ANYWAY, drink water get something to eat and take a break or else your stuffed animal gets it 😡

#modyuki #project sekai #pjsk x reader #project sekai x reader #colorful stage #pjsekai #pjsekai x reader #proseka #wxs rui #wonderlands x showtime #rui x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #kamishiro rui x reader #rui kamishiro #Rui #kamishiro rui

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for-a-longlongtime · 1 year ago

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Wow. Y'all. I truly never expected so many awesome responses on the post I wrote last night about Dieter, Goya and Pedro on Talk Art. It is the first 'fun' thing I've written in so many years - after having felt blocked/paralyzed re: creative pursuits since 2020 (shit happened) -, without stressing about how I wrote it, and it means the world to me that so many people liked it and shared it.

I don't want to clutter up all the feeds by individually sharing and responding to the reblogs etc, so I'm throwing it together in one post here - because I want y'all to know I appreciate it so much. And it honestly made me even more excited that some of my favorite PP fic authors did so, because I've been enjoying YOUR work so much!

@chaoticgeminate Sending those hugs right back, and your fic was absolutely not a silly little piece! I truly love(d) it, and I'm glad it sent me down this little rabbithole. And yes, while writing that piece I also became more convinced that Pedro himself was a really big part in shaping Dieter and his background story. It's so damn intelligent and very much his style.

One thing I didn't mention yesterday (and I'm sure this is something a lot of people already spotted since the first day that the movie was online) is that I also came to realize how much Pedro has based Dieter's outfits and some mannerisms on Jeff Bridges' character The Dude from 'The Big Lebowski'. Never really saw that movie but I put it on today for a bit, and it was striking -- I'd even dare to say that the "'Bola, hold my hair!" moment on the toilet is a nod to how The Dude (who has longer hair) gets his face shoved into a toilet. Also, at one point when Bridges' character is addressed with "Mr Lebowski", he dismisses that and tells the guy to call him Dude, or even 'Duder' which, yeah, that's just a small step from 'Dieter Bravo'.

amycben on Reddit said the same thing about Bridges, and shared these Dieter pics, which definitely made it clear how our Feral Raccoon Boy's style is inspired by 'The Dude' <3 I don't care much for the Lebowski movie, but I love a good reference, especially since it's a Coen brothers movie - and we all know that Pedro now has a small role in Ethan Coen's upcoming movie 'Driveaway Dolls'. Anyway, I honestly hope that at some point Pedro will be asked about the work he did in shaping Dieter, because I'd love to hear more about this. There's no chance in hell that'll happen, because which journalist would ask him this? But I'm cool though if the universe wants to manifest one of us getting to interview him some time in the future, haha.

Anyway, again @chaoticgeminate - thank YOU really. I needed that deep dive more than I knew thanks to your writing!

@nicolethered thank you too for being responsible for my deep dive, haha, it were your screenshots that made me recognize the other Goya paintings! <3 (and I love your gifs btw!

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings well hearing from you that you loved MY writing is just such a super awesome thing after how much I've been enjoying your Dieter story! <3 <3

@julesonrecord I'M TOTALLY IN hahaha, I saw your comment right before I went to bed last night and it made me smile so much!

@imaswellkid I'm def not an Apatow person either, and I'll be honest - the first time I watched the Bubble I couldn't get past the first half, haha. But I later began to realize that you should indeed watch it through a critical lens and as a reflection about the craziness that was going on, rather than 'oh this is a movie about the pandemic'. The Mando bud is great btw! But even better is the Baby Yoda bud - I have no clue how growers/dispenseries (I'm in the midwest) get away with naming their product after Disney stuff, but I'm sure glad it got me to try that hahaha.

@lunapascal IKR artist Dieter is so damn underrated, and I'm so glad that at least a whole lot of fic authors are giving him more of what he deserves! OK and I totally want to write some too now, hahaha. Especially because there's a lack of Dieter x OMC/m!reader fics, which tbh needs to be fixed.

@survivingandenduring @sp00kymulderr @thesimulationswarm @pedrit0-pascalit0 @gemmahale @sin-djarin @perotovar @ladamedusoif @gracie7209 thank you so much for your kind words, they honestly mean so much to me! @angelofsmalldeathandthecodeine WOW, that Dali piece is fuckin incredible! And @basicoccult woahhh maybe y'all did!? See now I feel like I need to inquire about whether y'all take new initiates! <3

@chronically-ghosted God don't get me started, it's so tempting - next thing you know I'll have suckered myself into writing Dieter fic (while I'm only just getting started now on two other WIPs), haha. But yes I'm so curious about what the unspoken canon is there -- and most probably Pedro is the one with answers to that since it seems so much like he created Dee. I ended up googling some Apatow interviews this morning and saw that he set out to make the Bubble as a sort of Christopher Guest movie (the mockumentary style), and other articles said that there was a lot of improv involved - so obviously Pedro must've contributed a lot. Particularly because I've read at least interviews with four directors (Zeke who did Prospect, Craig Mazin from TLOU, I wanna say Patty Jenkins, and I'm currently blanking on the other name) who spoke about how involved Pedro was, down to specific dialogue and character's motivations etc in shaping the movie (I think Zeke said that Pedro worked with them to tone down Ezra's Shakespearian manner of speech a little, which I can totally see happening since Pedro has done/read so much Shakespeare and it's easy to picture that he wants to fine tune it so it's accessible enough for audiences). Ugh, it's probably gonna take a long while until there'll be any long form interviews with him again, and sadly interviewers are probably not gonna ask about any of this.

Re: painting or acting, yesterday I read @blueeyesatnight 's That's Not Your Name-Dieter fic (LOVED it, can def recommend it!) and one of the coolest things about Dee's character development there is that it indeed delves into 'okay how did he pick acting versus art' and more background story, plus how in the current day events of the story he is even making his own oil paint. That has become my headcanon now <3

@tessa-quayle I'm so glad you liked my post!! I really really wish that Russell and Robert would do another episode with Pedro. I love Russell in particular (sorta followed his work since Being Human was released, which holy crap was already 15 yrs ago?), but the way they attempted to interview Pedro back then was kind of a hot mess - and I say that lovingly hahaha. They were so enthusiastic that they talked over him so/too many times, so I'd love a tad calmer conversation where P has the opportunity to go more indepth.

@tvversionperson IKR there is SO much plot and character development to be explored with Dieter in that movie, which of course it doesn't have room to delve into but shit I wish they would/could. Or at least to just hear Pedro talk about what his thoughts are on it, because you know he most definitely had Dee's entire back story fleshed out in his head when he shot this movie.

Super long post, but again, I just wanted to thank y'all for the love. This is the first time I've done anything writing wise re: the PP cinematic universe, and all your responses have been so heartwarming and really encouraged me to do more stuff in one way or another with the Pedro boys, be it rabbit hole analysis or fic.

#pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #goya #francisco goya #black paintings #saturn devouring his son #witches sabbath #two old men eating soup #he-goat men #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #art #talk art #painting #oil painting #mural

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bookishtheaterlover7 · 11 months ago

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Not sure how to view Chris anymore and it’s sad. At this point whatever the “truth” is, it doesn’t matter.

I’m just floored at how someone could be so weak to get into this mess and not “be able to get out”and it’s easy to say oh it’s hard for him to get out but he’s at least trying to show this is fake, yet he was bold enough to lie to the world about being married?

Make that make sense?

Like how the fuck do they clean this up at all?

It’s like reality and illusions are morphing together and I honestly don’t know who the fuck this man truly is and maybe that’s the way it should’ve always been.

We get wrapped up in this shit mainly due to the way of the world and due to Hollywood and capitalism, etc, but we have to take accountability by finally choosing to not fall for seeing other mere mortals as anything but human.

If you take any random person off the street, clean them up, give them a great marketing team, BOOM you have a new celebrity. It’s all a big awful joke of illusion.

No more rose colored glasses. It’s to the point fandoms and celebrity today is seeing a blue sky but being duped into believing it’s green.

Unfortunately most will never understand the above and never take those glasses off.

This applies to fans, non fans and just the overall population of the world who are willing and unwilling and unaware at how impacted we all are by celebrity culture. A headline makes waves or something goes viral and we ALL stop our lives to read or listen about it and many hop online to discuss and argue with others over various things, not once seeing the reality……you’re taking time out of YOUR life to focus on someone who doesn’t even know you exist, wasting YOUR time discussing crap about someone else who is living their life and getting rich off of you and someone who uses media to stay relevant through…..Y-O-U!

*breaks rose colored glasses* for good.

💔👓

#EnoughIsEnough

Same, An🫶n. Honestly before I was sucked in here, Chris was the ideal guy for me... Ofcourse, Papa was right. He told me once that "I shouldn't place anyone on a pedestal, because anything placed that high, is meant to break."

I've got nothing but love for Chris and his work. But the way this is all spun, real or not, I'm not sure if I can keep adoring him as a person.

Like I've said before, we can't exactly blame Chris, alone for getting into this mess in the first place. But if those breadcrumbing and hinting on his end isn't true (the hope and rumor that he's telling us that anything about the wedding is fake, etc.), An🫶n is right.

He's not a saint, but he's not a demon either. But the thing is, he isn't going to be just Chris Evans, the actor we all love and adore. The actor we'll be happy for when he gets his small victories. Whose dog is one of the best things on the internet during this whole mess right now.

He's also going to be Chris Evans, the guy who "married" a racist, who's friends have baited the entire Fandom. The guy who couldn't save his fans from tearing at each other. The guy who let this get so out of hand, that the one place that should've been safe for us to escape to, and enjoy everything, disappeared in mere months.

I'm planning to stick around, because I know for a fact, a ton of you were here for the fan-made stuff. The fanfics, fanarts, discussions about characters, etc.

I came here for that too. Doesn't mean I'm giving up this whole thing. But I'm going to take time to go back to the fun part. Because honestly, my page has turned into an analysis page😅 it's 70% rant posts about the bullshit pr, and 30% me and my fics...

Bro! I intended to make fucking fics before 250 Followers Celebration comes... But I'm way behind... Partly, because of life. And partly because the second something goes down, I drop nearly everything, and focus so much time and energy on this.

So, I'm not saying drop him or any celeb completely. I'm saying we need to tone down our idolization, because it may have gotten to the point where it isn't healthy.

For the sake of your health, mental and otherwise, Fandom. Take time to enjoy what you love about this Fandom. And please don't say anything about tearing the PR Narrative, because even I have to admit, it takes it's toll.

Again, not backing down, or stepping down. Just giving myself time to take care of me, and spend time with my family while they're still alive.

I don't know if this Christmas season will be the last that I get to spend time with any of them, so I'm going to make sure I live every minute with them. And not stuck in this hole I've dug myself for months, since the wedding announcement.

And you should all do that for yourselves, guys. Take the time, and make it count.

#An🫶n asks #booky reacts #booky answers #booky's thoughts #booky rant post #chris evans #chris evans fandom #love you guys!#❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#P.S. can someone please open up some form of character discussion? I've always wanted to try it 😁

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whyisaverycrying · 1 year ago

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Mercury Sextile Venus and Venus in the Third House Experiences

Hi! My names Avery and I write personal experiences with certain astrology placements I have. I do this in hopes that it will help people seek some knowledge about certain placements and give another point of view from someone that actually has the placement! This is my first post so I hope you guys enjoy :)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

First let’s break down what mercury sextile venus really is:

If we start with the basics mercury rules over communication while venus rules over love and relationships. When we put these two together we get someone who has a skill to allow their heart to flow through their mind causing speech and learning to be seen in a beautiful way. Things need to have meaning - knowledge specifically. It allows them a skill that can be accessed when needed.

Now let’s break down venus in the third house:

The third house is about communication expression and understanding. It’s logical. It also rules over siblings neighbors cousins aunts uncles It goes on and on but basically just your close environment that you would see everyday. This is also the house of gemini so this can be where our curiosity lies and what we want to learn -what we find interesting.

Examples:

People have always told me my voice was soft and soothing. I find this hard to really understand -and maybe it’s because I’m so used to my own voice I don’t hear what other people hear but- a lot of the interactions I’ve had with people always end up telling me how nice my voice is. I’ve once or twice have been told to make a ASMR channel..

- my boyfriend recently said he was surprised to hear my mom speak and have the same “soft” voice as me. When I tell you I looked at this man like “👀”. Wdym my voice is “soft”

I have a good singing voice. This sounds almost narcissistic of me but I’ve been told this many many times. I love singing and have done it since I was little so I do admit I have some sort of skill. I make music and write lyrics. It comes almost natural to me. I just close my eyes and let my emotions move my hand. I’ve been in choir almost all my school years as well.

I’ve been told I have beautiful hands. I assume this is because gemini rules over the hands but yeah this comment is even more frequent than the other ones I’ve mentioned. My dad has called them my “piano hands” ever since I was little. I’ve heard constant comments about saying how “slim” and “soft” my fingers and skin are. It’s a odd but frequent compliment that I thought I might add.

Communication is key. I’m such a big stickler on communication in realationships. Someone who I can bounce ideas off of or who can keep my mind I love energizes me. My best friend has jupiter in the third house and I love how easy she can comprehend things. She also has mercury in the 12th house and let me tell you talking to her truly feels like a mystical dream. Our conversations are so fun and easy. Things like this is a huge deal to me. If I can’t have a conversation without you bouncing back off ideas, I won’t enjoy talking to you.

I love flirting LMAO I had to say it. It comes so natural to me. I know exactly what to say and when to say it. Sometimes I will admit when I meet someone I come off too friendly with them. I don’t mean to at all I’d rather lay off - I have a scorpio rising- but sometimes I’ll be talking and realize only after that I came off a bit too strong.

On the topic of that people have said I have an admiring personality - keep in mind I do have a scorpio rising, sagittarius sun, and sagittarius mercury but I think these placements specifically really tie it together- but I’ve had people pull me aside or get me alone and be like “Avery I love you” or “Avery never change the way you are” after I was authentically myself in a conversation. I’m not sure if this is specifically because of this placement but I thought I would add it.

I love compliments WHEW gimme gimme. If words of affirmation was a person it would be me. It’s such an ego boost. And don’t get me wrong I give them as much as I receive them. I LOVE seeing someone smile after I give them a compliment. It truly makes my day.

I adore poetry words are truly my medicine. I write poetry myself and it’s such a good release for me to write after a hard and long day. I love to see things in a beautiful manner and I want to show that to the world. I actually have a poetry blog you should totally follow (@averywritespoetry).

I get jealous of the way people speak. This is an odd one that I rarely ever talk about but if someone has a cool little phrase they say or something like that I immediately want to one up them with something cooler. Like I’m supposed to be the one that’s good at talking? Where did you come from?

It’s really hard to say no. I hate letting people down. I might appease to other people just because I don’t want to see them upset which makes me seem two faced sometimes.

I admire my siblings a lot I feel so proud of them and what they have accomplished. Me and my sister specifically give eachother gifts and such a lot. Don’t know if this is a universal things but yeah.

I love when people call me smart. Do it. It boosts my ego.

I love when people know what they are talking about. Something I find attractive is when someone knows how to use their words really well.

And that’s it! Thank you so much for reading! <3

#astrology observations #astro observations #venus in the 3rd house #Mercury sextile venus #astro notes

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bellofthemeadow · 1 year ago

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The Road Ahead - ch 6 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 9K (Sorry T.T)

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Summer without your husband. You don't know what to except for the months ahead with Frankie away in rehab, but you know you want to learn who you are again.

Notes: Hey everyone, thank you very much for the support for this fic, it means the world to me to see people liking, reblogging or commenting!!! This fic is approaching the end unfortunately, as much as I love these two together, it was always meant to be on the shorter side. Since its my first ever story, I wanted to see if I could stick to a story without my mind fizzling and apparently I can ! SO HURRAY! I am anticipating 1 more chapter and 1 long epilogue after this.

I've already started working on fic #2 and #3 and I will be posting the summaries/ series masterlists later tonight or tomorrow morning :) I was also thinking on opening a poll to ask which stories you guys want me to do first.

But in the meantime, hope you all enjoy this chapter !!!!

A Change of Season

MONTH 1 - JUNE

"Are you sure, Alma? I don't want to impose on you too much..." you ask hesitantly, internally hoping Alma will agree to your last-minute request.

"Nonsense, mija. It's my pleasure. You know how I always enjoy spending time with Estrelita, and it gives me a chance to spoil her rotten. Truly, it means the world to this old woman that you trust me to stay with your little Princesa." Alma responds warmly.

Relief washes over you as you let out a grateful sigh. "Thank you so, so much, Alma. I hate asking so last minute, but my boss just called me to cover this Saturday since I have to take Ella to get her shots today. And I know Ella would be thrilled to spend time with her favorite abuela.”

Alma Vargas Morales snorts angrily on the other end of the line. "I can't believe those pendejos would make you work over the weekend like that. As if baby shots could be re-scheduled like a nail appointment! I'm tempted to march over there and give them a piece of my mind!”

You can't help but let out a laugh, picturing Frankie's spirited 72-year-old mother storming into the Florida Community College library, grabbing your boss by the ear, and dressing him down loud enough for the dean of strudents to hear. You’d pay good money to see that. “But seriously, Alma, I can't express how much I appreciate this. You're a lifesaver.”

"And you are an amazing mother, mija..." You can hear Alma taking a deep breath on the other side of the line. "Not many women would have done what you have for your daughter and your husband."

"Alma..." you begin to interject, but she cuts you off.

"No, mija. Francisco was so out of line he couldn't even see the line anymore. I didn't raise my son to act like this, and you are way better than he deserves at the moment." Alma's words carry a mix of frustration and disappointment.

Alma takes another breath, her voice softening. "I love mi hijo, I nursed him, took care of him when he was sick, I saw him grow from a shy little boy into a handsome and self-assured man. But he was never really happy until he met you, mija. Now, es el momento de que Francisco se arrepienta de sus pecados." Her tone finishes somberly.

You're left speechless, both deeply moved and unsure by Alma's sudden outburst. The woman had always been strict but loving. When Frankie was young, they didn't have much. His father died young and without insurance, leaving Alma alone to raise Frankie and his two sisters. But Alma had done her best to provide for her three children and give them every opportunity she could.

Now, Frankie's younger sister followed in her mother's footsteps as a nurse, while the eldest had become an accountant before deciding to stay home with her own children. Alma was a strong woman whom you had always admired. When you first met her, she had looked at you for only a couple of seconds before grabbing you by the neck with her tiny yet stout stature, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Thank you for taking care of mi hijo, God knows that knucklehead needs it! Just like his dad, that one is! " she had whispered in your ear before releasing you and playfully swatting Frankie's head. "What the hell was that for?" Frankie had exclaimed.

"No decir groserías," Alma had answered, her gaze piercing Frankie. "That was for hiding this lovely girl all this time and for not minding your manners. You haven't even offered her anything to drink yet!" Frankie rubbed his head and muttered, "Esta es tu casa…"

"Qué dijiste Francisco?" Alma questioned sternly.

"Nada, Nada," Frankie quickly replied, trying to diffuse the situation.

Throughout the entire interaction between mother and son, you had held back your laughter. But as Frankie's cheeks turned pink, he made his way towards you, and you couldn't help but think that you would love to be a part of this family. Since that day, you had loved Alma, and she had become the mother figure you had never truly had in your life.

"Alma, whatever happens between Francisco and me will never have any repercussions on your relationship with Ella. I would never take her away from you or your family. Ella is a Morales, and you can see her whenever you want," you assure her.

On the other side of the line, you hear Alma's sniffles. "Maldito Francisco, eres un estúpido muchacho," Alma mutters, her voice filled with frustration. "Francisco has made a lot of mistakes, but the one thing he didn't mess up was marrying you, mija."

"Gracias, mama. I promise that whatever happens, Ella and I will always be there," you express sincerely.

"Gracias, mija," Alma replies warmly.

"Is it okay if I drop Ella on Saturday around 7:30 am? I have to be at the library by 8:15," you ask.

"Of course, es muy perfecto! I'll make my famous tostadas!" Alma responds enthusiastically, her excitement palpable.

You can't help but let out a laugh at Alma's enthusiasm. "Alma, you know that Ella is just 5 months old, right? She won't be able to taste your famous tostadas for a while yet."

Alma lets out a huff, acknowledging her oversight. "I got ahead of myself; I suppose."

"I'll pump some milk and have it ready for you in her bag," you suggest. After a brief pause, you add, "Will you call me to tell me how everything is going?"

You can hear Alma's affectionate tone as she responds, "Mija, I'll send you updates every hour on your phone, with those messages things you kids always send each other. You don't have to worry. I've raised three babies, and they all reached adulthood, although some have made questionable decisions."

"Thank you so much, Alma. I really appreciate it," you express gratefully, feeling a sense of relief knowing that Ella will be in capable and loving hands.

"ESTRELLA MORALES!" The loud voice of the tall brunette clad in blue scrubs resonates through the large waiting room.

"Sorry, mama, I have to go. It's Ella's turn," you whisper urgently into the phone.

"Te quiero, mija. I will see you tomorrow morning."

Quickly, you close your phone and grab the stroller where Ella is peacefully napping. Gathering your belongings, you ensure that everything is in order before hurrying after the nurse. As she leads you into a smaller room, she introduces herself. "My name is Coral, and I'll be administering the vaccines for little Ella today," she says, reaching for the files on her desk. "I see she is here for the DTaP-IPV-Hib vaccine. It shouldn't take too long."

Coral glances inside the stroller where Ella has woken up from her nap and is looking around anxiously. "Well, isn't she a cutie? Hello, baby," Coral greets Ella warmly, taking out a bright pink rattle and shaking it in front of her. Ella responds with a delighted laugh, momentarily distracted from the unfamiliar surroundings.

"All right, mama, I'm going to need you to hold your baby while I give her the shots. She won't like it, as few babies do, but I'll be as quick as possible," Coral informs you, her professional demeanour evident. She briefly scans the page of Ella's file before her eyes narrow slightly. "I also wanted to confirm something with you. I only see one signature on the parental form, but there is a Francisco Morales listed on Ella's file. Should we be made aware of a change in the files?"

Your heart drops at the insinuation, and a mix of emotions floods over you. "Frankie... I mean, Francisco is Ella's father," you explain, your voice tinged with a touch of defensiveness. "He is currently unable to sign off on the documents due to personal reasons, but I promise he is 100% supportive of every medical decision I make for Ella."

You realize that you're frantically trying to justify yourself to this stranger, feeling the weight of judgment and the need to ensure that Ella's well-being is understood. Coral looks back at you, then at the file, before letting out a sigh. "Look, I'm not trying to trick you," she begins, her voice filled with a mix of empathy and professional concern. "But as medical professionals, we have a responsibility to ensure that the environment at home is safe for Estrella. You understand what I'm saying.” The mere mention of home safety sends a chill down your spine, the silent threat of involving CPS clear in Coral’s tone.

With a knot forming in your stomach, you gather your thoughts and respond cautiously, your voice betraying a hint of fear. "Yes, I understand," you manage to say, trying to keep your composure. "I assure you that Estrella's home environment is safe and loving. We prioritize her well-being above everything else, and we take every precaution to provide her with a secure and nurturing space. My husband is just… unavailable right now.”

Coral glances back at you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processes your response. "As you say," she acknowledges, her tone carrying a hint of reservation. However, her sunny disposition quickly resurfaces, and a warm smile returns to her face. "All right then," she says, her voice brightening. "Shall we proceed with this little shot?”

MONTH 2 - JULY

You sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun on one of the only free benches in front of the library building. With a tomato sandwich in one hand, you type a message to Mrs. Hu, asking about Ella's day so far. Almost immediately, Mrs. Hu responds by sending you an adorable picture of Ella on her belly, reaching for her favourite cat plushy, a big orange thing with oversized ears and fuzzy white paws. It melts your heart, and for the 100th time, you can’t help but be amazed at the wonderful being your love with Frankie created.

Frankie... Oh, Frankie. Today feels bittersweet, as on the one hand, you hadn’t thought of him too much, but on the other hand, you felt guilty because you hadn’t thought of him that much. Some days are almost unbearable, as your mind becomes entangled with memories of… memories of everything before it all went to hell. You replay moments: the goods, the less-than goods and everything in between. But still, all these moments were what made you and Frankie a team, a partnership. It was a life you built together. Still, you couldn’t help but question your actions and wonder if anything could have prevented the events that unfolded over the last two months.

Yet, dwelling on these thoughts only serves to torment you further. Now when these thoughts surface, you try your best to follow the guidance of your new therapist. You try to let the memories wash over you like rain on an umbrella, try to let them come, accept them without letting yourself be ruled by them. But they persist, stubbornly clinging to every corner of your mind. It's a difficult battle, and despite your earnest efforts, grief and longing persistently infiltrate both your waking hours and restless nights. The weight of it all hangs heavily in the air, casting a sad shadow over your life. You yearn for a bit of reprieve from the ceaseless ache that Frankie's absence has left behind. But today is a good day. So far.

The blaring alarm on your phone abruptly interrupts your lunch break, signalling that it's time to return to work. Hastily cramming the last remnants of your sandwich into your mouth, you briskly make your way toward the imposing building. Upon reaching the entrance, you make your way to the help desk, where you settle down and begin reviewing emails and addressing various queries from staff and students.

As you open the first email, which seems to be part of an infinite pile (how is this possible after just half an hour?), your attention is diverted by the approaching figure of the library director. A distinguished-looking older man, his hair hangs in wispy white strands, lending him an air of wisdom. His tweed suit, more reminiscent of academia at Oxford than the sunny locale of Florida, accentuates his scholarly aura.

"Sweetheart, do you mind coming into my office?" You can't help but cringe at the nickname. You've never been fond of the nickname. You were initially uncomfortable but later learned from Roberta, another librarian who looked like she was born between the bookshelves, that he addresses everyone this way. Annoying and reductive, perhaps, but ultimately benign. And honestly, apart from the cringeworthy calling, Director Robertson is an amicable presence with no noteworthy complaints.

"Of course, Mr. Robertson. Would you like me to come in now?" "Yes, please," he says, his fingers delicately twirling his long mustache, "I know you've just returned from your lunch break, so I presume you haven't embarked on any new tasks yet." Captivated momentarily by the whimsical sight of his mustache dance, you acquiesce and rise from your desk before placing a sign that reads "Keep reading - Be back in 15 min." Trotting diligently behind your boss, you traverse the expanse of the library, guided by the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows. Finally, you arrive at his office nestled at the rear of the building, granting an enchanting vista overlooking a courtyard where students are rushing to their next classes.

Director Robertson gestures toward the plush, cushioned chair positioned in front of his grand wooden desk, silently inviting you to take a seat. With a touch of unease, you settle into the chair, your hands nervously intertwining in your lap. There's something about Director Robertson's stern grandfatherly demeanour that always makes you feel like a scolded child in his presence. Seeking solace, you follow the advice of your therapist, taking a deep breath and counting silently (1-2-3), before releasing it slowly, allowing the tension to dissipate. Untangling your hands, you place them gingerly on the armrests of the chair. After all, sometimes you have to "fake it till you make it," right?

"What can I do for you, Director?" you inquire, maintaining a composed facade despite the underlying nervousness.

"AH! That's what I appreciate about you, dear!" Director Robertson exclaims with a hint of enthusiasm. "You don't beat around the bush, and you don't try to kiss my ass like everyone else around here!" His words, while somewhat brash, sound genuine.

"I am glad to hear it, sir..." You respond, feeling a sense of perplexity. The sudden shift in conversation catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily lost.

"How is that little girl of yours? Your little baby, right? How old is she now?" Director Robertson inquires, a touch of warmth underlying his words.

"Ella, sir. She's just about 5 months old," you answer, a fondness evident in your voice as you think of your daughter.

"Still so young! Ah, well, you still have a couple of years before she becomes unbearable. I've had 5 of those, my dear, and let me tell you, it doesn't get easier," Director Robertson responds with jovial teasing, his words laced with a sense of seasoned experience.

"Right, well hopefully I'll survive the tween years unscathed," you respond, trying to match Director Robertson's teasing tone.

Director Robertson bursts into a hearty, full-bellied laugh, his amusement filling the room. He reaches inside his desk, retrieving an official-looking letter. "Do you know what this is, dear?" he asks, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

"I'm afraid not," you reply, your throat suddenly dry with anticipation.

"This is a job offer that the University of Florida sent me last week for the directorial position in their library," he reveals. Your heart skips a beat. The University of Florida—the dream institution. Positions like that were nearly non-existent, as it seemed their librarians were born and died at their posts, passing the torch down the line.

"That's amazing, sir! You must be really happy," you exclaim, genuine excitement resonating in your voice.

"Well, I declined the offer," Director Robertson confesses nonchalantly, his words causing a mixture of surprise and confusion to wash over you.

"Oh, but why? The University of Florida has some of the best facilities in the state, and the salary must be significantly better than what we have here. And the access to all those books—it must be incredible!" You can't help but let your tone drift into wistfulness, envisioning the possibilities.

"I'm sure it is, but I'm reaching a certain age, and I promised my wife that we'd retire in her family's home in Capua," Director Robertson explains, a hint of nostalgia colouring his words. "Let me tell you, deary, I'll take Capua, Italy over the University of Florida any day. And you know what they say: 'Happy wife, happy life,'" he playfully scrunches his nose. "Make sure your husband remembers that dear," he adds, teasingly.

A heavy rock settles in your belly at his words, but you manage to smile through it. "I'll make sure to remind him," you reply, masking any personal turmoil beneath a veneer of cheerfulness.

"You better. Men sometimes need a good whack on their head to remind them that they would be nothing without their wives," Director Robertson remarks, his fingers fidgeting with his mustache once again, as if deep in thought.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not sure I understand why I'm here," you ask, your uncertainty evident. The words hang in the air, seemingly snapping the older man back into focus. His pale blue eyes settle on you before a secretive smile graces his face.

"Because when I said no, I recommended you for the job, my dear," he reveals, his voice carrying a sense of pride and hidden intentions. Your heart stops, the revelation jolting you with disbelief.

"You... You... You did what?!" you stammer, your voice escalating into a screech. Heat surges through your body, from head to toe, as a mix of shock and astonishment overwhelms you.

"Deary, you've been here for how long? Seven years? And in those seven years, you've completely revamped this library," Director Robertson calmly begins. "All the programs you added for the students have made this place thrive. The faculty-based librarian assistance program was a stroke of genius if I may say so. And the digitalization of our database was an incredible achievement that completely propelled us into the 21st century."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in. "There was no one I would have felt comfortable recommending, as it is my name on the line. But you, my dear, I know that you have the capacity to make anything your own and make it shine."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the realization of the immense opportunity dawning upon you. Director Robertson's faith in your abilities washes over you, mingling with the heat that had consumed you moments ago.

"Now, you don't have to accept, of course," Director Robertson remarks, his tone understanding. "The university is about an hour's drive from here, so it would be quite the commute. But it would come with a hefty pay raise." With a swift motion, he slides the papers across the desk, urging you to take a look.

You turn the papers over, and your eyes widen as you see the figures before you. An 8 followed by another 8, followed by a series of zeros that threaten to make you faint. It's more than double your current salary, a staggering amount that fills your mind with all the possibilities that would come with such a raise. "That's... That's a substantial amount of money," you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips. The weight of the figure displayed on the paper sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Indeed, deary, indeed," Director Robertson affirms, his voice filled with a sense of reassurance and pride.

"I can't believe it; I don't know how to express my gratitude. Sir, I am so incredibly thankful for this opportunity!" you exclaim, a mixture of excitement and nerves coursing through you. "Should I send an email to someone? Who should I reach out to? Should I prepare for an interview? Oh my god, what about my work here?”

Director Robertson's smile remains warm and comforting. "Please, don't worry about your current work here. I have every confidence that Jocelyn will step up and shoulder her fair share of responsibilities. As for the university, they already have all your information and will soon send you a comprehensive email with all the necessary details. At this stage, any interview would primarily be a formality, as I know without a doubt that you will excel.”

You rise to your feet and extend your hand towards Director Robertson, gripping his hand firmly. "I promise, sir, I won't let you down. I will do my best to be deserving of the trust you have placed in me," you affirm with determination, your voice filled with gratitude.

Director Robertson's eyes soften even further, reflecting a genuine warmth. He clasps your small hand in his wrinkled, larger ones. "There's no need to worry about any of that, my dear. Just go out there, impress them, and let your radiant spirit shine like the sun," he kindly encourages,

Tears well up in your eyes, and with a small, trembling voice, you squeak, "Would it be too presumptuous to ask for a hug, sir?"

Director Robertson's kind smile widens, and he extends his arms, inviting you into an embrace. As he wraps his arms around you, you inhale the comforting scent of old cotton and pines, a fragrance that exudes reassurance and kindness. "Thank you for everything, sir," you murmur, your voice filled with gratitude.

"You deserve every bit of it, my dear. I don't think you fully understand the immense potential that resides within you. If you could truly see it for yourself, you would be unstoppable," Director Robertson assures you, his words resonating deep within your being.

Unstoppable. The word dances in your mind. You like the sound of that.

MONTH 3 – AUGUST

“Estrelita, my little love, I wish I could give you the biggest hug in the whole wide world. Even though Papa is away, please know that you're always on his mind. Let me tell you my all-time favorite story, the one your abuela used to tell your tias and me when we couldn't sleep. It's called "El Conejo y el Coyote," and it starts like this; Una vez el coyote se encontró a un conejito y le dijo….”

Frankie's voice fades as he skillfully imitates the rabbit and the coyote on the recording. Ella seems entranced by the story, yet unsure to hear her papa's voice without seeing him there. You've developed the habit of playing the recording at least once a day for Ella, so she can always be close to her papa, even when he's away. And if you're completely honest with yourself, you also play it for you. Even after all this time, hearing Frankie's voice still makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

Frankie's letter remains unopened on your bedside table. You haven't been able to open it yet. You don't know if you will. As much as you miss Frankie and hope he's doing well in rehab, you still don't know what you'll do when he leaves at the end of next month. You know he'll be allowed visitors as of next week, marking three whole months he's been there. But you don't know if you should go if you're completely honest with yourself. You know Ella has to go, that's not even a debate. But should you?

Alma is also unsure if you should go, stating that with your new job and the new hours, you should focus on yourself and Ella. She kindly offered to bring Ella with her when she goes for his weekly allotted visitation time. You might take her up on that offer.

Frankie's voice comes to a stop, signalling that the story is over, and Ella appears heartbroken. You notice her bottom lip flutter angrily, and her face turns red. Unable to resist, you chuckle and say, "Don't get mad peanut. Do you want to listen to your papa's story again?" With a smile, you walk over to the recorder and press rewind, filling the air with Frankie's voice once more. Ella's clapping and happy expression from her playpen make your smile widen.

Currently, she is nestled on a mountain of soft pillows, engrossed in playing with the play gym you got her when the rattle lost its appeal 3 weeks ago. It's hard to believe she's already in her sixth month—time has flown by, and she has grown so quickly. The thought nearly brings tears to your eyes. Ella is determinedly reaching for one of the planets hanging from the chord, but her little arms fall just short of grasping it. You laugh at her expression of determination, reminding you of Frankie and his own determined expression when he was working on revamping an old beat-up mustang, he got at a garage sale.

However, your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a rapid succession of knocks at your door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Coming!" you bellow loudly, making your way toward the door.

You open the door and are greeted with Benny's grinning face, in one hand holding a 6-pack of beers and in the other holding a toolbox. You roll your eyes and say, "You didn't have to bring anything, Benny. You're helping me, so I should provide the beer."

Benny smiles and replies, "Don't worry about it, sunshine. I had to make sure the good stuff would be here."

Teasingly, you inquire, "Are you doubting my beer selection, Benny?"

He lets out a laugh and says, "Nah, not you. Just Fish. You know he drinks that watered-down piss that passes for beer. I had to make sure there'd be something with more substance available."

"You're such an idiot, and you know I have tools, right? Frankie's got the locker full of them."

You scratch your head in embarrassment and continue, "I just don't know how to use them, that's all."

Benny laughs and says, "I can't in good conscience use another man's tools. Those things are like sacred, you know? Can't go around and mess up Fish's system or whatever."

You look at the large toolbox and see the name "W. Miller" written in large white letters on the front. You snort, "So that's why you took Will's tools?"

Benny's ear turns slightly pink as he responds, "He's my brother, everything that’s his, is mine or whatever."

You roll your eyes playfully, "All right, well, can I offer you one of the beers you brought then?"

Benny replies, "Nah, not right now, sunshine. I've got to be on my A-game to fix your shit. Where is it, anyway?"

You lead Benny toward the bathroom, where the fan is closed. Flicking one of the two switches, a loud groaning noise emanates from the top of the shower.

"The fan is busted. Now when I take a shower, I turn the whole place into a sauna. And I'm getting a bit afraid that mold or mushrooms are going to appear, you know? The landlord said he was going to fix it, but it's been 3 weeks with no answers. If Frankie were here, he would..."

You stop yourself, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Anyway, I told the landlord that if he provided the materials, I'd fix it, and here we are."

Benny smiles and says, "Shouldn't be too hard. Are you ready to play assistant contractor, Sunshine?"

You snort and reply, "Sure, boss. Lead the way."

Benny puts the toolbox next to the sink and goes to inspect the damage. You hover around the door, keeping an eye on Ella who is still in the same position as earlier, now listening to Frankie tell a story about two volcanoes who fall in love. The scene brings a smile to your face.

"Hey, assistant, before I get started, do you mind shutting down the electricity for the bathroom, so I don't become Toasted Benny?" Benny asks. You nod and reply, "Sure, give me a sec." Making your way to the electrical box, you turn off the power in the bathroom. On your return, you quickly check on Ella, who is still determined to grab the hanging planet. You smile and give her nose a tiny kiss before making your way back inside the bathroom.

"All closed, Ben," you inform him. Benny responds, "Awesome. Can you grab me one of the adjustable wrenches? It should be on the top of the box. I'll just take out the old fan, disconnect the wiring, and fit the new fan inside. Should be all done in an hour."

You nod and pick up what looks like a wrench, though you're about 73% sure it's the right one. You ask, "Is this okay?" Benny extends his hand and says, "Yep, all good. Give it here." You place the wrench in Benny's hand, and he smiles at you, saying, "See, you aren't so hopeless. By the end of today, you're going to be the best assistant contractor in Florida."

You smile at Benny's puppy-like excitement and reply, "Sure, Ben, sure."

You watch Benny diligently work on the fan, removing the old moldy contraption. He lets out a whistle at the sight and exclaims, "Fuck, when was that thing installed? The fucking Stone Age?"

"Pretty sure caves weren't equipped with centralized electricity," you quip back. Benny looks down from his elevated position on top of the bathtub and retorts, "Ha. Ha. Ha, aren't you clever." You give him a broad smile and reply, "I know, right?!"

"Why don't you be clever over there and throw that old fan away," Benny suggests. You nod and reach for the old fan, making your way toward the bin. As you do, you hear Benny shout after you, "Make sure to bring back the new one!" You roll your eyes playfully and respond, "I'm not that clueless, Benny!" A loud chuckle echoes from the bathroom as you head to the counter where the shiny new fan awaits. Your eyes briefly glance at Ella, and...

"BENNY, BENNY, COME HERE QUICKLY!"

You hear a commotion coming from the bathroom as Benny stumbles out, panicked. "What?! What's wrong?!?!" he exclaims. You simply point to the living room carpet, your eyes filled with happy tears. "Look!!!" you say, barely able to contain your excitement.

Benny follows your gaze and looks down to see Ella on her belly, attempting to crawl toward the coffee table where the recording of Frankie has stopped playing. You urgently shake Benny's arm. "Quick, quick, grab your phone!!! Oh my god, she's never crawled before, Ben!!! I have to film this. Quickly, my phone is in the bedroom, grab yours!!!"

Benny's eyes widen with a mixture of astonishment and joy. Without wasting a second, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens the camera “Go to her! I’ll be your own cameraman!!!”

You smile warmly and swiftly make your way to Ella, crouching down next to the coffee table as she momentarily pauses in her crawling. She looks up at you with tired yet determined eyes. "Come on, my little peanut, you're almost there!" you cheer, feeling a surge of pride and excitement. In the background, Benny chimes in with a playful exclamation, "Let's go, Ella! Show them who's the best fucking baby in the world!"

You shoot Benny a disapproving look, and he responds with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Sunshine, I'm just...so excited!" he says, his words stumbling out of his mouth. Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to Ella. "Come on, peanut, you've got this!" you encourage her, your voice filled with loving adoration.

Ella's determined expression, so much like Frankie's, reappears on her face as she resumes her crawling. Benny and you continue to shout words of encouragement, your voices filled with excitement and pride, as she inches closer and closer to her destination.

Finally, Ella reaches the coffee table, and without hesitation, you bend down to grab her, gently scooping her into your arms. Overwhelmed with joy, you give her a crushing hug, unable to contain the immense love and pride you feel in that moment.

"You did so good, baby. Mama is so, so proud of you!" you whisper, your voice filled with pride. With a tender smile, you softly nuzzle your nose against Ella's. Ella coos happily in response, her little sounds of joy filling the air and further melting your heart.

You bring your face up and turn towards Benny, who is still holding the camera, a hopeful look in your eyes. "Did you catch all that, Ben? Wasn't she absolutely amazing?" you ask, eager to hear his response. Benny's face lights up with his signature megawatt smile, and he exclaims, "SHE WAS GREAT!!! Ella, you are just like a shooting shining star!!!”

Benny continues, his excitement contagious. "Now, proud mama, you got anything to say to the camera?" he prompts. With a radiant smile, you twirl around, holding Ella close to your heart. "Only that I've got the bestest little peanut in the whole world!" you declare with overflowing love and pride. Ella lets out a happy squeal in response, and the sound of Benny's laughter echoes in the background.

MONTH FOUR – SEPTEMBER

Frankie found himself seated at one of the picnic tables outside, overlooking the tranquil man-made pond in the rehab facility's backyard. Nervously fidgeting with his fingers, he’s been reflecting all morning on the past three and a half months he’s spent here. His mother had eagerly awaited the fourth month when visitations were permitted. However, Frankie had approached the session coordinator and asked for a delay in visits. Despite his deep desire to see his mother, sisters, daughter, brothers, and… You, he didn't feel emotionally prepared for it. Not yet.

The day before September 1st, Frankie had experienced a crippling panic attack that left him completely incapacitated. The following morning, he gathered the courage to stride into the office of the head therapist. Once there, Frankie had explained to him that he needed more time before he would be able to face anyone. Dr. Stevens had smiled and told Frankie how proud he was that he was finally setting boundaries and acknowledging his limits. If there was on thing Frankie’s time in the rehab had taught him, it was the value of recognizing his own needs, a lesson he had never truly internalized during his years in the army. He had become so accustomed to unquestioningly following orders, regardless of the harm they inflicted on him, that he had forgotten that he needed to care for himself and listened to his needs sometimes.

During therapy sessions, Dr. Stevens had emphasized the significance of listening to Frankie's own desires and engaging in introspection. The therapist pointed out that, by consistently ignoring his own wants, Frankie's inner turmoil found an outlet through self-destructive behaviours. Dr. Stevens believed that if Frankie started paying attention to his own needs and delved deeper into self-reflection, the compulsion to numb his pain with cocaine might gradually diminish, even if only minimally.

Frankie sighed heavily, his hand sweeping across his face as he noticed a mother duck leading her adorable ducklings across the serene lake. These past few months had undoubtedly been the most challenging period he had ever faced, and Frankie had been shot multiple times before. So that’s saying something. Confronting the stark contrast between the person he believed himself to be and the person he had become, all while battling intense withdrawal symptoms, had left him feeling lethargic during the initial weeks.

Throughout his life, Frankie had always viewed himself as a provider, a dependable man on whom others could rely. Memories flooded his mind, particularly the day his father passed away when Frankie was just a young boy. He vividly recalled how, the day before his father's death, the man he had admired for his strength and dedication to his family had called upon ten-year-old Frankie. "Francisco," his father had spoken with pain, surrounded by the incessant beeping of medical equipment, "I need you to take care of your mother and sisters when I'm gone. You will be the man of the house, and it's your responsibility to look after those you love."

Frankie had internalized those words and earnestly tried to fulfill his father's wishes, caring for his mother, sisters, and eventually you and Ella. However, in the end, he felt that he had failed spectacularly. When he confessed these deep fears to Dr. Stevens, a wave of vulnerability washed over him, tears streaming down his face. The older therapist regarded Frankie with a sympathetic expression, moving closer and offering a tissue.

"You haven't failed anyone, Francisco," Dr. Stevens reassured him, gently patting his back. "Yes, you've made mistakes, but now you are making the right choices and striving to make amends. You don't have to live up to any expectations or face external pressures alone. Your focus should be on taking each day as it comes. As long as you care for your wife and your little girl, it will be enough. I am certain that if they were here, they would tell you the same."

Then, Dr. Stevens had Frankie make lists. A list of the things he was most afraid of:

Loosing you and Ella for good

Seeing his brothers die

His mother never forgiving him

Dying before he could see Ella grow up

Not being the man, his father wanted him to be.

Then a list of all those he had hurt,

You and Ella, the two persons cherished the most.

Ben, Will and Pope, the brothers who counted on him and whom he let down.

His mother who didn’t raise him to be what he his today

Tom, whose life was lost due to the choices he made.

Himself himself

Then a list of all he regretted

Lying to you, betraying your trust.

Bringing drugs home, staining the sanctity of the home you built together

Taking your love for granted, failing to appreciate you.

Keeping himself closed off, unable to fully express his emotions.

Shooting first Causing Tom’s death

After finishing the lists, Frankie was instructed to go back to his room and engage and reflect on what he had written. Left alone with his thoughts, Frankie delved into the profound weight of his past actions and the far-reaching consequences they had on the people in his life.

Even though it was incredibly tough, Frankie drew strength from imagining you and Ella right there with him, offering unwavering support. Your smiles and hopeful expressions fueled his determination when he felt overwhelmed and tempted to give up.

Frankie knew how crucial it was to take his recovery seriously. He understood that unless he fully committed to it, the chances of winning you back would dwindle. But it wasn't just the fear of losing you that pushed him forward. Deep down, he genuinely wanted to change. He wanted to be a better man, not just for you but also for himself. He didn't want to be that scared and dishonest boy anymore.

Frankie was well aware of the pain he had caused you, and he acknowledged that the drugs were only a fragment of the larger issue. He understood that his actions stemmed from a deeper problem — his reluctance to open up and reveal the parts of himself he found most fearful and repulsive. The mere thought of you looking at him with disgust in your eyes was unbearable to him.

Deep down, Frankie knew that such concerns were unfounded. He knew that you would never judge him for his past or hold his mistakes against him. However, fear and self-hatred have a way of distorting one's thoughts and leading to irrational behaviour. Frankie recognized the irrationality of his actions and the influence fear and self-doubt had over his decisions.

But Frankie was learning. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that his fears and self-judgment were hindering his progress. He began to realize that the path to healing required vulnerability and trust, especially in his relationship with you. Overcoming his own insecurities and learning to open up was a crucial step towards rebuilding the trust he had broken.

For Frankie and you to have a chance at reuniting, he understood the importance of treating you as an equal partner, rather than just his wife in need of protection. Opening up and being honest with you were crucial steps he needed to take. In the group therapy sessions, the topic of his treatment towards you had come up, and one woman in particular, Ronnie, didn't hold back in expressing her opinion. She bluntly stated that if she were in your position, she would have swiftly shown Frankie the door, recounting her own experience with an ex-husband who had been a taciturn statue throughout their short-lived marriage.

Ronnie's words struck a nerve with Frankie, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He felt raw and tender. But he could only acknowledge that she had a valid point. He had failed to communicate and share his thoughts and emotions with you, and that had taken a toll on your relationship.

Dr. Stevens had attempted to calm the group, but the impact of Ronnie's words lingered within Frankie for a couple of days afterward. Frankie had no choice but to confront the truth of how his behaviour had affected you and how he had fallen short of being the partner you deserved.

Frankie's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a firm clap on his back, drawing his attention away from the peaceful pond. Frankie's face lit up with genuine joy when he catches the blue eyes of Will looking back at him.

"Will! Man, it's so good to see you!" Frankie exclaims, rising from his seat to embrace his friend in a tight hug. "How have you been, brother?"

"Good, good. Same old routine—VA visits, giving speeches, and keeping Benny out of trouble," Will replies, "Oh, and I might have met someone special," he adds, a playful grin on his face.

Frankie's face lit up even more. "That's fantastic, Will! I'm really happy for you," he exclaims, gesturing for his friend to take a seat on the opposite side of the picnic table. "This spot gives you the best view of this place," Frankie remarks, pointing towards the serene pond and the ducks swimming on its surface.

Will settles into the seat with a contented smile. "I can see why," he replies, appreciating the calm scene. His eyes then shifted to Frankie, noticing a change in his friend's demeanour. "You look good, Fish. Actually, better than I've seen you in a while," Will remarks, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

Frankie's expression softens, gratitude filling his gaze. "Thanks, Will. I feel good too," he confesses, a mix of relief and newfound understanding in his voice. "Being here has given me the time and space to confront things I wasn't ready to face about myself. I wish I had done it sooner, instead of being so stubborn. It was the best thing I could have done for myself and for them," he explains.

Will's smile widens, expressing his genuine happiness for his friend. "I'm glad to hear it, Fish," he replies warmly.

As the two friends catch up, their conversation started to delve into the time they had spent apart. Frankie eagerly sharing his experiences in group therapy and the progress he had made with his personal therapist. He spoke openly about the challenges he faced during the initial month of withdrawal, recounting the intense loneliness that had enveloped him during that period.

Frankie's voice grew heavier as he broached the topic of guilt surrounding Tom's death. Will's gaze turned serious, his eyes locked onto Frankie's, conveying a sense of understanding and empathy. With a firm conviction in his voice, Will interrupted Frankie's self-blame.

"None, and I mean it, Fish," Will asserts, his words laced with sincerity. "None of what happened in Colombia was your fault. We all had a part to play in those circumstances, and you don't have to shoulder that burden alone, alright?"

Tears welled up in Frankie's eyes as he nodded, his voice trembling with gratitude. "Thank you, Will," he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion. "I needed to hear that, to be reminded that I'm not alone in this. It means the world to me."

Will reaches out and places a comforting hand on Frankie's shoulder, offering both physical and emotional support. "You never have to face this journey alone, Fish," Will assures him, his voice filled with unwavering loyalty. "We're in this together, and I'll always be here for you."

A brief pause hung in the air as Frankie's gaze shifted to the side, a touch of melancholy crossing his face. He mustered the courage to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind, his voice tinged with longing. "Did you see my wife and Ella while I was away... How... How are they doing?"

Will's smile softens, his own eyes wandering toward the ducks in the distance. "They seemed well," he replies. "Ella grew like a weed, you know. And your lady, she's doing great. Got herself a new job with better pay. I could tell she was really proud of it."

Frankie closes his eyes, allowing the words to wash over him. For a fleeting moment, guilt threatens to seep in—the guilt of not being there by your side. But just as quickly, it dissipates, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and admiration for you and the strides you were making while he focuses on his own journey of healing. "A promotion, huh? She's so smart. I can't wait to tell her how happy I am for her," he whispers. A spark of excitement flickers within him. "Did you guys celebrate? Because I can organize something once I'm out."

Will's smile broadens. "We thought we'd wait for you, but we did take her and Ella to Outback Steakhouse," he reveals. "Is she planning to visit before you leave?"

"I'll be out in two weeks, and Mama is coming with Ella next week, but I think it's best if we wait until I'm out," Frankie explains, his voice tinged with a mix of longing and practicality.

"That's fair," Will nods understandingly. "She seems well, Fish, but I can tell she's lonely. She looks like she misses you."

Frankie's eyes brim with tender determination, "She could never miss me as much as I miss her and Ella. This time here has made me realize how fortunate I am and how close I came to squandering it all. I'll never make that mistake again, Will, believe me."

A twinkle appears in Will's eyes as he reaches for his back pocket. "Wait, I have something for you," he said, pulling out his phone and opening the camera app. He scrolls through a collection of pictures; some he had taken himself and others that you had sent to him. "These are for you. Your lady wanted to make sure you knew they were doing all right."

As Frankie continues scrolling through the photo albums, he was greeted by a plethora of precious moments captured between you and Ella. Each image held its own story, showcasing the love and joy that radiated from your little family. In some pictures, you cradled Ella in your arms, your eyes filled with tenderness. Other photos focused solely on Ella, capturing her adorable expressions and mischievous nature. And then there were the silly selfies—the ones that always brought a smile to Frankie's face. They were the ones you both loved to take, capturing the candid, carefree moments of your lives.

There were morning snapshots, featuring tousled bedheads and tired smiles, Ella playfully blowing raspberries at the camera. Other pictures overflowed with warmth and sunshine, showcasing the adventures you embarked on during the summer. Ella in her tiny bathing suit, her chubby fingers clutching a plush cat toy. You and Ella wearing matching sundresses adorned with elephants, holding a basket full of produce from the farmer’s market. Frankie's heart swells as he sees an image of you delicately feeding Ella a small bite of ice cream.

Tears well up in Frankie's eyes—a mixture of longing and joy. Joy because he is so grateful to see you both thriving and creating beautiful memories. Sadness because he has missed out on these precious moments. As he continues scrolling, he stumbles on a video. With a quick double-tap, he initiates the playback, and your voice resonates from the phone's speakers.

"Come on, quickly, take out your camera..." your voice echoes, filled with excitement.

"Fish, wait a second, you should turn that off," Will's voice interjects, attempting to grab the phone.

But Frankie evades him, his body turning towards the lake, his back to Will. His heart yearns to hear your voice, to immerse himself in the presence of the family he deeply misses. The camera comes into focus, and there you are crouched next to the coffee table with Ella... Is she crawling?! Frankie's heart tightens as he watches his little Estrelita grow up right before his eyes, slowly making her way toward you.

And then he hears it, a voice echoing through the phone, "Go to her! I'll be your personal cameraman!!!" It's Benny's voice and Frankie's body tenses in response. The video continues, capturing your shouts of encouragement to Ella, and even Benny's voice cheering, "Let's go, Ella! Show them who's the best fucking baby in the world!"

Frankie catches your disapproving look at the camera, and Benny offering a sheepish apology. Sunshine. Benny called you sunshine. But it's just Benny being Benny, right? It has to be. Benny would never... he couldn't possibly… Do that. But deep down, Frankie can't help his mind from wandering into unsettling territory.

The video plays on, but Frankie's focus wavers. He can't seem to see anything else on the screen. And then, finally, Ella reaches you, and Frankie is jolted from his daze by your scream of excitement. Suddenly, a cold shock washes over him as he hears Benny's voice again, "Now, proud mama, you got anything to say to the camera?"

Your radiant smile is directed at Benny; Ella's happy satisfied face is all for Benny—it's all too much. He isn't there. But Benny is. Benny is there. Frankie can feel himself spiralling.

The phone is snatched from his hands, and Will sits down next to Frankie, gripping his shoulder firmly. "Benny was just there that day to fix the fan in the bathroom, it was all just circumstances, I promise you," Will reassures him. Frankie's voice trembles as he responds, "The fan was broken? And I wasn't there to fix it. But Benny was."

"No!" Will's voice booms with determination. "Don't go down that road, Fish. Understand? There's nothing going on between your lady and Benny. You've made incredible progress these past few months, and I'll be damned if you let yourself fall into another dark place. I wasn't there last time, but this time, I'm right here with you!"

Frankie's mind whispers, "Maybe it would be easier if I didn't come back. She has a new job, and Ella seems well. They'd probably be better off without me." He looks down at the ground, feeling his hands twist anxiously.

"Are you kidding me?!" Will exclaims. "Frankie, these girls love you more than anything in this world. If you leave, they'd be shattered. You're not thinking straight right now. Remember why you made that recording? So that Ella wouldn’t forget your voice. Fish, you knew you'd miss a lot of things by being here. But look, today you've been telling me how much progress you've made, how you're ready to open up and communicate better with your lady. With us. Well, let me introduce you to a new concept: trust. You need to trust that she would never do anything to hurt you. And you need to trust that Benny would never betray his own brother like that, okay?" Frankie takes a deep breath, absorbing Will's words.

“You are right. Of course, you are right. Sorry for freaking out like that.”

"It's all right. Are you really okay though?" Will's voice is filled with genuine concern.

Frankie's mind balks. Is he really… Okay? He doesn't have a definite answer. The old Frankie would have brushed it off, assuring Will that he was fine and that he didn’t care that Benny was seemingly playing house with you and Ella. Then he’d go snort a line in the bathroom to take the edge off.

"I don't know, Will. I don't know if I'll ever be all right." Frankie puts his head in his hands, feeling the weight of his emotions bearing down on him. Will places a reassuring hand on Frankie's upper back. "Then we'll take it one day at a time.”

One day at a time. Just 14 more days until he sees you and Ella again. Only 14 days until you decide if you want him back. Just 14 days until he must confront the consequences of his actions and the pain, he caused you over the past few years. Those 14 days stretch before him, both seemingly endless and surprisingly close. Is he truly ready? The honest answer is, he doesn't know.

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