#maybe I’ll take a story I already wrote that’s got rejected a ton and give it ye olde rhymey whimey treatment

[pangur-and-grim]

there’s a poetry contest that I kinda want to enter, but the requirement is a single 10-page poem. which is nuts. it would have to be some sort of rhyming short story….

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: Leandra smirked at Bruno, “You know what, because it’s you, I’ll make it something easy.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me what my first name is.”

“Oh.”

CH 1 Prev Next Master List

Chapter 19 Detective Bruno

He was going to figure this out. He had to. Bruno was in way too deep to admit to his familia that he had no clue what was happening.

Well, he did have some clue what was happening. Rosalie had rejected Cicero and he had responded by doing something bad, maybe something that had caused her to be raped. Cicero had then offered to marry Rosalie and she rejected him again, at which point he started attacking other women.

In conclusion, Cicero was probably going to burn in hell.

He didn’t mean to judge, it was just, Bruno had been rejected a ton of times in his life. He’d never done anything so bad it led to a woman being raped. People had a right to reject him. They had a right to reject anyone. That was how life worked.

He worked on his list of potential crimes the day after Reina’s date with the creep. 

Rape was illegal, and there was no way any moral person could downplay its terribleness, but Encanto didn’t have any laws against being the cause of rape. Bruno could even see how some people would try to argue it’s not technically Cicero’s fault.

So that was probably what made Cicero a danger to the village. His actions somehow made his victims more vulnerable.

That eliminated half of the things on Bruno’s list. Spying on a woman while she was getting changed was wrong, but didn’t make her anymore vulnerable than she had been before. Same with groping women through their clothes.

Now, telling the wrong person delicate information about somebody might do the trick.

Bruno could see Cicero going down to the cantina and loudly complaining about girls who had rejected him to his many friends. Get the right guy all riled up and… voila, you have a hate crime. Then once you know what it takes, you could do it again and again.

He sighed, scratching his head with the pencil.

Leandra, who was thoroughly enjoying the pastries he’d brought to make up for her terrible day, looked at his list then rolled her eyes, “Bruno, I’m begging you, just talk to Pepa.”

“Now? After all this time?” Bruno shook his head, “Nuh-uh, she’ll have so many questions, the first of which will be why I didn’t ask sooner.”

“Well, it is a valid question,” she grumbled.

“I am very, very sorry I assumed you were evil,” Bruno told her, and he meant it, “I was wrong. You are one of the kindest, most noble people I have ever met, and I know now that you would never intentionally harm an innocent person. I promise, the next time you do something that looks bad, I’ll ask you why. Or, well, I’ll assume you did it without thinking, but I won’t think you did it maliciously!”

She smiled softly at him, “Thank you Bruno, I forgive you. Of course I do.”

“Great,” he nodded, “soooooooo?”

Leandra laughed even as she rolled her eyes again, she shook her head, “Alright. One clue, I will give you one clue, if! If you… agree to come swimming with me on Saturday.”

“I-I can do that,” he stuttered, blushing at his lap.

“You’re overthinking it,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re overthinking it,” she repeated with a shrug, “this whole thing is way less complicated than you think it is.”

“Oh,” he frowned down at his paper. He’s overthinking it. Simple, think simple.

He scribbled out the potential crimes and wrote down his clues again, adding “not complicated” to the list. Leandra glanced over the list and pressed her lips together.

“What?”

“You are such a sweet man,” Leandra told him. She had been wondering why he hadn’t already figured it out, but now that she saw “can be downplayed” on his list of clues she kind of got it. In Bruno’s mind, rape was undeniably bad, no pretending otherwise, end of story.

“What? Sweet?” he looked down at his list, trying to figure it out, “How am I sweet?”

“If I tell you, that would be another clue.”

“Well- alright, b-but couldn’t you tell me anyways? I… I can- name your price.”

Leandra smirked at him, “You know what, because it’s you, I’ll make it something easy.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me what my first name is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed at his arm, mouth opening and closing before he finally tried, “Reina?”

Leandra giggled, shaking her head, “Try again.”

“J-Juanita?”

“No.”

“...Fernanda?”

“Colder.”

“Colder? I-in what way?”

“The first letter of my name is closer to ‘J’ than it is to ‘F’.”

“Oh, ok… Martina?”

She sang a part of the alphabet while counting letters on her fingers, “Warmer.”

“Hm, Olivia?”

“Colder.”

“So… the first letter of your name is between ‘J’ and ‘M’?” he asked, then when she nodded, thoughtfully mumbled, “‘L’ would be the most likely, wouldn’t it? I can’t think of many names that start with ‘K’.”

“You’re burning hot,” she said.

“Lola?”

“Lola?” she repeated, with a frown, “Do I look like a Lola to you?”

“W-well I don’t know, what does a Lola look like?”

“Not like me.”

“That seems a bit subjective,” he muttered, “Liliana?”

“Better, but no.”

“Luz? How about Lucianna? Lucia?”

“No, no, and no.”

Bruno wracked his brain for more “L” names and ended up quietly listing random words that started with the letter. Reina almost fell out of her chair laughing when he looked at her dog, looked at her, and in a desperate sort of voice, guessed, “L-Leche?”

“N-no,” she took a minute, bent over double, “w-why would me and Leche have the same name?”

“Maybe he’s named after you,” Bruno shrugged.

“He is not,” she giggled a little bit longer, “do you give up yet?”

“Do I still get the clue if I give up?”

“Of course not. And I won’t tell you what my name is.”

“Then no,” he idly scratched at the stubble on his chin as he thought, “How many letters does it have?”

“Uh, seven. Why? Does that help?”

“Not even a little bit,” he shook his head, “Uuuuuh, let’s see.”

They sat in silence for a long time as Bruno cast about for names, any time he remembered another name beginning with “L” he would count it off on his fingers, then frown and shake his head.

“Bruno,” she eventually interrupted his process, “I have an idea, it’s a little bit crazy, but I think if you give it a shot you might find it very helpful.”

“What?”

“How about you just ask?”

Bruno frowned, “No, no, I can figure this out.”

“Ay dios Bruno.”

He spent a little bit longer counting on, then scowling at, his fingers. Eventually his shoulders drooped and he heaved a big sigh, much like the ones Leche sometimes heaved when his dinner was a few minutes late.

“Reina?”

“Si?”

“Say I did ask…? Would I still get the clue?”

“You’d get the clue and I’d tell you my name.”

“Hm.”

“Really, if you think about it, communication could fix so many of your problems.”

“Humph,” he crossed his arms and scowled at the wooden counter in front of him. After a few beats he recounted the letters in every L name he could think of, just in case.

Reina started giggling, he didn’t have to ask why. He was being ridiculous and he knew it.

Bruno sighed again, hanging his head.

“Reina?”

“Gua- sorry. Sí?”

“What’s your first name?”

There was a pause, “Well, now I’m kind of tempted not to tell you.”

“What?!” he looked so deeply offended that she couldn’t help but break out into another peal of giggles.

“Bien, bien, I’ll tell you,” she smiled benevolently at him, “You ready?”

“Si.”

“You sure?”

“Reina, I swear-.”

“Leandra.”

“What?”

“My name is Leandra, it’s lovely to meet you,” she stuck her hand out for him to shake, and he took it.

“Leandra,” he breathed, slowly shaking her hand, “it’s pretty. A-and it suits you.”

“Gracias.”

Bruno continued to slowly shake her hand for a few more beats, eyes staring straight through her. Mentally, he was reviewing every moment they’d ever spent together and trying to replace the nickname “Reina” with the name “Leandra”. Eventually, he remembered himself and looked down at her hand in his with horror.

“Oh! Perdon, perdon, I-. Th-that was… weird of me. Perdon,” he let go of her hand like it had burned him, shrinking over to his side of the stall, but Rei- Leandra was already waving it off with a gentle smile.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’m not constantly clinging to you like you’re a teddy bear.”

 He bit his tongue to keep from mentioning how much he liked it when she did that, and gave her a sheepish grin instead. He cast about for something else to say, and remembered why he’d started guessing her name in the first place.

“So uh, w-what does my list of clues have to do with me being sweet?” he asked.

“Oh. Right. Your morals are getting in the way here,” she shrugged, “you’re not going to get it until you put yourself in the shoes of a bad person.”

“A bad person…”

“Uh-huh.”

Bruno folded up the paper and tucked it into his pocket, he closed his eyes and focused, “Bad person, bad person, I am a bad person. I think being poor is a cosmic punishment. I adjust my junk while looking other people in the eye. I-I ask market vendors a million questions, move their stock, and ask for free samples then don’t buy anything.”

She bit her lip and refrained from pointing out that he was merely describing a rude person. He really didn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

Seriously, how was he still single?

No, wait, she knew why. It was probably because he didn’t notice flirting unless it was as obvious as a punch to the face.

Bruno opened his eyes and scowled at the countertop in front of him. Ok, what would a bad person do when they’re rejected?

“He hit her?” he asked, “Wait, no, that’s illegal.”

Leandra smiled at him fondly and shook her head, “Just talk to Pepa.”

“Why don’t you just tell me to jump off a cliff since you’re so intent on my doom,” Bruno gestured dramatically, then he groaned and put his hand over his face, “ugh, why is this so hard?”

“Again, you’re over complicating it,” she reminded him.

He took his list of clues back out and glared at it, waiting for the answer to just jump out at him. It didn’t. He looked at her, maybe she was susceptible to puppy dog eyes, he’d been told his were deadly.

Leandra just crossed her arms.

“Meirda,” he sighed.

She chuckled and shook her head at him again.

“Feeling better?” he asked, setting the list aside for now.

“Much, gracias,” she put a hand on his arm, “and I’m sorry about the way I reacted yesterday. I know that… he’s a spiteful man, i-if he figures out that I’m helping your mother investigate him, it’ll be good to have a friend around.”

Bruno smiled, “Don’t worry about it, I was technically spying on you.That’s uh, that’s kind of not okay.”

“Usually,” she agreed, “but I think in this case, I probably should have asked somebody to tail us. Although, I don’t know if-, I didn’t really want you seeing all that.”

She fiddled with her skirt, watching him from the corner of her eye. The thing with Cicero may have been a giant chess game, but she still didn’t feel comfortable kissing another man in front of Bruno. To be honest, she didn’t feel comfortable kissing another man, period. Having Bruno there just made it especially bad.

They weren’t technically dating, but she knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, so she sort of felt that she shouldn’t be seeing other people too. At least until she was absolutely positive her feelings were one sided.

Bruno didn’t respond. He thought that she may be trying to protect his feelings when she said she didn’t want him seeing her with Cicero. If Bruno had to string somebody dangerous along in order to lure them into a false sense of security, he wouldn’t have been his first choice for back up either. What was Bruno going to do if Cicero attacked her? Throw sand around?

Félix and Felípe would have been better options. They were both strong, and Leandra was good friends with Felípe, so she could definitely count on the brothers to be there for her. Plus, Felípe had gotten into two separate fist fights protecting Rosalie’s honor in the past year, he’d won both of them.

“Ugh, what a creep,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose.

Bruno nodded, “Apparently. I can’t imagine hurting somebody just because they don’t want to date you.”

“Even worse, it’s because Rosalie didn’t believe him when he said he loved her,” she scowled into the middle distance, “so in order to prove her wrong he…?! Ugh!”

Bruno glanced back down at his list of clues, tapping the pencil thoughtfully against his lips. Cicero was definitely responsible for Rosalie’s rape somehow. Did he… did he drug Rosalie so he could prove how trustworthy he was? To show her that he wouldn’t take advantage of her in her vulnerable state?

It was a simple answer, and something he could see a bad person doing. It was illegal, but not a banish worthy offense, hard to prove, easily repeatable, and would explain why Leandra had panicked at the quinceanera. Plus, people might argue that because he didn’t intend for any long lasting harm to be done, he wasn’t actually responsible for the consequences of his actions.

Then when Rosalie turned him down for marriage he might have moved on and drugged other women to show her that what he did wasn’t that bad. That it didn’t always end in his victim’s life being ruined.

“I think… I think I’ve figured it out,” he said slowly.

“Have you?” He didn’t seem angry enough to have realized that Cicero tried to rape his sister.

“Did he drug Rosalie to try to prove he could be trusted?”

Leandra pressed her lips together and tapped her toes, “You… are on the right track. It’s worse than that.”

“Right, right,” Bruno made a note about Cicero’s spitefulness, “because he’s motivated by his anger.”

She made an affirmative noise.

He tapped the pencil against his lips a few more times, “I… don’t like any of the answers I’m coming up with.”

“Then you’re definitely on the right track,” Leandra said darkly.

He couldn’t be the rapist, right? It… she had said that people might try to argue that Cicero’s crime wasn’t that bad, and there was no denying that rape was an utterly disgusting, heinous crime. Plus, being raped had resulted in Rosalie being kicked out of her home, being shamed by the whole village, being treated like an outcast. How could anyone say that “wasn’t that bad”?

No. No, it couldn’t be rape. Bruno couldn’t believe that anyone would excuse that sort of thing. He knew people could be cruel, boy did he know, but that was a step too far.

He folded the paper back up and put it away. There would be more clues, eventually.

“So, swimming?”

“Sí, since you love throwing yourself in the nearest body of water, I figure we could make a day of it,” she grinned at him, blowing him a kiss when he scowled at her.

“Well maybe if you- I mean why are- If you weren’t constantly hiding next to the river, lying in wait, I would trip less,” he wagged a finger at her, enjoying the way she giggled.

“What can I say,” she curled her hands like claws, “it’s all a part of my evil scheme. Step one, throw food at Pepa. Step two, throw you in the river a few times. Step three, I’ll have to figure out later. Step four, take over the world.”

“Sounds like step three is going to be a real doozy,” he chuckled.

“Oh it is, just you wait,” she nodded, “I would do an evil laugh but I don’t know how. That might be step three actually, figuring out my evil laugh.”

“Oh, that’s easy, just watch,” he held up a finger and fixed his posture so he could use his whole chest for this. Bruno took a deep breath then let out a low gravelly chuckle that slowly built into a deep laugh with the occasional grating cackle mixed in. 

When he was done Leandra applauded him, “That was beautiful. A real work of art.”

“G-Gracias,” he responded, blushing under her praise.

“You should try out for next year's play,” she suggested, “you’re pretty good.”

The old shoemaker had started a community theatre that put on a play once a year for the harvest festival. Auditions had already passed for this year’s play, an adaptation of Hombre Caiman’s story, but there was already debate over what next year’s play would be. Bruno had always thought of trying out, but had never gotten up the nerve.

“Oh, I-I don’t think-, I mean I’m so busy doing, y’know, Seer things, and, and nobody wants to see a play with-. Well, you know, it… I-I doubt they’d give me a starring role, if you catch my drift,” he rubbed at his arm.

Leandra put a hand on his shoulder, “I want to see a play with you as the star, and anyone with an ounce of sense would see that your talent is way more important than your reputation. Hell, I bet once you get going people would forget they’re watching you, I’m sure if you wanted you could be completely invisible behind your character.”

Bruno smiled at her, “N-now you’re being sweet.”

“No, just honest,” she squeezed his shoulder, then took her hand back, turning to greet a pair of teenagers coming by for an afternoon snack.

He stared at her as she spoke to the teens, asking them about school and one of the kids’ apprenticeship. The other was the eldest son in his family, and thus was training under his father to inherit the foundry. Unsurprisingly, Leandra was able to make both kids laugh as she fetched them a wheel to split, and shared a couple of the pastries he’d brought her.

“Although technically, you should thank Bruno for these, he bought them,” she said.

The teens gave each other a look, but ultimately shrugged, turned to him and chorused, “Gracias Señor.”

“Oh, that’s- really it’s- you’re welcome,” Bruno said.

There was a brief pause, the teens staring at him, no doubt sensing blood in the water. He remembered well how cruel kids could be. 

Leandra made the tiniest sound in her throat, pulling attention back to herself, and asked one of the kids how their tia was doing. She listened intently to the answer, better but still ill, and gave the kid a small soap to give to the aunt in question.

Bruno felt tension ease out of his shoulders when the two teenagers walked away.

“They’re just slightly smaller people,” Leandra said, probably trying to reassure him.

“That’s the problem,” he retorted, “they’re people. People don’t like me.”

“Well they should,” she shrugged, “and I continue to believe that they would if they got to know you.”

He snorted, one side of his mouth quirking up, “Maybe.”

“I did,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re… really nice. A-And you like everybody.”

“No, I’m nice to everybody because I’m an adult who understands that just because I don’t enjoy a person’s company, doesn’t mean I have a right to be rude to them,” Leandra glanced around and dropped her voice, “the truth is I don’t like most people. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, just because I’m kind of judgie like that.”

“W-Wait, really?” he asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

“I mean… I don’t actively dislike many people, I just… don’t enjoy being around most people,” she continued in a quiet voice, “I think a lot of people are boring, or I get annoyed with them for being annoyed by something harmless, even though I get annoyed by harmless things all the time. I’m angry at a lot of people for believing the rumors about Rosalie, despite the fact that I’ve believed plenty of rumors myself. Like I said, this is me being a bit of a hypocrite so I try not to make it anyone else’s problem. I do my best to be polite to everybody, and only accept invitations from people I actually like.”

“Oh,” Bruno turned this new facet of her personality around in his head, it fit neatly with yesterday’s “upset with, but not blaming, me” thing. He figured he must not be one of the people she found boring, since not only had she accepted his invitation to a picnic, she had actively gone out of her way to spend time with him.

“Sometimes I think it’s just because I don’t spend enough time with people to feel comfortable around them,” she was frowning thoughtfully, “I mean, I enjoy Felipe’s company as much as I do Rosalie’s and they are pretty different. Other than the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time with both of them. I don’t… Growing up I only came down from the mountain for school and church, so I don’t know a lot of the villagers that well.”

“I… think I actually know what you mean,” Bruno said slowly.

“Sí?”

He nodded, “I don’t really know a lot of people that well either, and I don’t feel comfortable around… well basically anyone. S-sometimes I get these- these thoughts, and they’re not nice, a-and they actually kind of scare me sometimes, but I just… I just don’t like most people. I don’t trust them.”

She smiled at him gently, “That’s fair.”

“Is it?”

“I think so,” she shrugged, “people haven’t given you a lot of reasons to trust them. Or like them.”

He frowned down at his lap, then laughed sort of bitterly, “Yeah.”

“The important bit is that you’re still kind to people,” she indicated the pocket he’d tucked his list of clues into, “you’ve never done anything like that. Not even close. You still care about helping people and being empathetic. Even when people are being horrible to you. That’s really admirable.”

Bruno didn’t respond, he was simultaneously tempted to start complaining about every mean thing anyone had ever said to him in his entire life, and to try fishing for more compliments. 

Perhaps he should warn her to stop giving him the attention and approval that he so craved, every time she called him admirable, or a good actor, it got harder and harder to be normal about their friendship.

“Anyways, we’ve gotten really serious,” Leandra shook her head and laughed at the both of them, “let’s talk about something more fun. Like um… where do you want to go swimming?”

“How about-,” he hesitated, he’d been about to suggest the pool he’d caught her doing laundry in, but he needed to not say that, it was too intimate, “my cave?”

It took all of his will power to keep from slapping his forehead. That was possibly the only place more intimate than the pond.

Leandra raised an eyebrow, she thought about asking him if inviting her back to his bedroom for scantily clad, wet, fun meant anything, but decided not to push her luck. She didn’t want him rescinding the invitation.

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

“Great,” he said, tightly. The mixture of dread and anticipation he felt was almost interesting enough to distract him from the burning in his cheeks.

“I’ve actually had a dream about swimming in your pool, I think. It was kind of vague, but I was talking to a rat, so I assume.”

Bruno snorted, “That- yeah, that sounds like my pool.”

The conversation moved on to dreams, and how weird they could be. Bruno, thankfully, restrained himself from mentioning how many of his she had appeared in, but told her about the occasional prophetic dreams he had.

When Bruno got home that evening, he thought about talking to Pepa, he really did. But as his mind ticked over all the different possibilities, each more terrible than the last, he began to feel a bit queasy.

For the first time he wondered if he really wanted to know.

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (5) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…

Rating: E (18+ only)

Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).

Masterlist here

AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.

Chapter Five

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.

He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.

You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.

You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.

Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?

“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.

“Hey. Is everything all right?”

“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”

“Who?”

“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”

“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.

“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”

You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.

“I let you down.” You said shakily.

“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”

His praise caused another wave of tears from you.

“Daddy…” You bawled.

“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”

“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.

“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”

You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.

“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”

“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.

“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”

“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.

“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.

“Silly.” You sniffled.

“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."

"I miss you, too."

"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.

"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."

"But it's the only thing left on the list!"

"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.

Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.

When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.

When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.

“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.

Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.

“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.

“Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”

“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.

“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”

“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”

You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.

“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.

"Fuck. Hang on."

You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.

“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.


“Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.

You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.

“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.

“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.

“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”

You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”

“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.

“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”

“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”

You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”

“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”

“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.

“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.

"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."

"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.

"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.

"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.

"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.

"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.

"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.

"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."

You nodded before drifting off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.

In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.

Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.

“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.

Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.

“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”

“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.

“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”

“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.

“What did I miss?”

“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.

“Our room, sweet pea.”

“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.

“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“

“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”

He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.

You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.

“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.

“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.

“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.


“Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.

“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.

“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”

“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-

“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.

“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.


“Here.” He handed it to you.

You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.

“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”

“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.

“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”

You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”

“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“

You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“The sun woke me up!”

“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.

“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.

“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.

“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”

“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“

“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”

“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”

“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”

“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”

“No I don’t!”

“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.

“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.

“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…

“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”

“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.

“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.

“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.


You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.

“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.

You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.

“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”

“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.

“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”

He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.

“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”

You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.

“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”

You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.

“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"

"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.

"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.

“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.

Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.

"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.

"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."

"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.

"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.

“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.

Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.

Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.

“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.

“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.

“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.

“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.

“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.

“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”

“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.

“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.

“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”

“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”

“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.

“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.

“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”

“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.

“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.

“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.

“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”

As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.

“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.

“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.

“So… you and Frankie. “

“Yes.”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.

“And it’s going well?”

“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.

“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”

“What thing?” You frowned.

“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.

“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.

“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”

"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.

“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”

“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”

“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”

“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”

“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”

“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.

“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.

“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.

“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”

“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”

“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.

“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."

“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”

“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.

“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.

Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .

“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.

“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.

“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”

“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…

“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.

“Mmm gonna mark me up?”

You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.

“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.

“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.

Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.

“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.

“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.

“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.

“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.

“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.

“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”

“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.

You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.

“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.

You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.

“Look at it, baby.”

You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.

“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.

“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”

“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"

“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.

“Leave it on.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.

Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @floraandfrost @agingerindenial, @heythere-mel, @icanbeyourjedi, @linnie0119, @pedrosmustache, @thisshipwillsail316, @peterhollandkait, @leias-rebelion, @phoenix-of-loki, @prettypedros, @kennedywxlsh, @punkerthanpascal, @the-witty-pen-name, @twentyfirstcenturyfox, @madslorian, @sarahjkl82-blog, @bison-writes, @lightning-fast54, @maievdenoir, @nicolethered, @kenoobiwan, @danniburgh, @janebby, @dihra-vesa, @yespolkadotkitty, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @headinthestarz, @tanyaherondale, @christina-loves, @dobbyjen, @fangirl-316

[chocojjk]

Hyunjin’s Playlist

summary: college student! hyunjin x college! student reader; strangers to lovers?

words: 5.2k

a/n: Hi, I meant to upload this a lot earlier however I was met with tons of writers block along the way. I wrote this without having an actual plot prepared lmao. But anyways, its done so I hope someone enjoys reading this :)

all songs used are songs that hyunjin has played on vlive but please keep in mind that the way the songs are portrayed are based off of my own interpretations. i am in no way speaking for hyunjin :) 

one.

we are often attracted to instruments that mirror our own identity. we find comfort in knowing that we aren’t alone, that somewhere out there, someone is feeling the same exact way. they say a person can tell a lot about another based on their playlist. songs become a portrayal of one’s feelings and experiences. through someone’s music, you can tell what kind of person they are.

“Let me see your playlist.”

“What?” the boy responded, curious as to why you chose that as your conversation starter. nonetheless, he unlocks his phone and opens his spotify app, showing you the songs that have definitely left a mark on his heart. 

Places We Won’t Walk - Bruno Major 

A blissful song with a hint of sadness. The boy in front of you treasures the small things in life, yet is saddened by the things that he cannot reach. 

When The Party’s Over - Billie Eilish 

He’s put up a wall. He’s not easily understood. He’s aware that he can hurt others so he has made himself believe that he’d rather be alone. That he’s better off alone. 

Instagram - Dean

He’s lonely. He often compares himself to those around him, wondering why he isn’t living the same luxurious life with all the same cheerful smiles that he sees on his feed. 

Please Love Me - Colde

He wants to be loved. “I like you,” you smiled, handing him back his phone, taking the seat next to him. 

-

“The weirdest thing happened to me today.”

Hyunjin started telling his friends about the girl he encountered on his first day of university. It’s been hours since it happened yet he couldn’t shake it out of his head.

“That’s it? She just asked to see your playlist?” Jisung exclaims, one eyebrow going up and a pout making its way on his face as he wore the same confused expression Hyunjin sported earlier that day. Hyunjin nods, answering the question that his friend had laid out for him. 

“Hmm, that is weird,” Felix agreed

“Maybe she’s actually a psychology major and it’s a project?” Seungmin suggested, trying to find the answers to the situation that has left them all clueless. 

“Orrr, maybe...just maybe...she thought you were cute?” Jeongin chuckled sarcastically

“But that’s literally all she said to me, she didn’t look at me after that anymore...when the class was over, she was gone without saying goodbye… s-she didn’t even tell me her name!” Hyunjin whines, sinking into his chair. 

“Why don’t you just ask her when you see her again?” their youngest retorts, tired of how his older friends were always overanalyzing things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

You frustrated the boy. The way you didn’t even know his name yet somehow you came to the conclusion that you liked him. The way that you spoke exactly 8 words to him but made it seem like you know every story he has to tell. You made him feel vulnerable and he did not like that. 

Not one bit. 

-

“What's your name?” Hyunjin plops his backpack down as he takes the seat next to yours, the same ones as last week. 

“Why does that matter?” you ask, clearly teasing the boy. 

Hyunjin plasters on the fakest smile he could muster up, not really having the patience for your mind games, “well, if you’re gonna continue to sit next to me then the least you could do is tell me your name.”

You bite back a smile, his music gave too much of him away. He was good at hiding his feelings though which is something you’ll give him credit for later on. Honestly, if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed the sour expression that was laced within the boy's tone of voice nor would you have noticed how he’s trying to show you that he’s unbothered by your words. 

Unluckily for the boy, your attention was focused solely on him. And so, you push his buttons some more, “technically, you were the one that sat next to me.”

Hyunjin stares at you, trying to read what was going on in your mind but all he could feel was the annoyance that was seeping through his body. 

God, you were annoying. 

“Slowly, hair will turn to gray,” you mumbled, a smirk forming its way on your lips. “What?” Hyunjin replied, a word he seems to be saying a lot ever since he met you. “If you keep thinking so hard, your hair might  turn to gray soon,” you joked yet it was clear to the both of you that it was only funny to you, the boy not catching on to the fact that you were phrasing a lyric from one of his songs.

“...my name is y/n,” you say, finally deciding to give the boy a break. 

“Alright class, I want to talk about your partner project, please find someone in the classroom to work with. This will be done throughout the semester and will be 30% of your overall grade so take it seriously,” the Professor informed, capturing both yours and Hyunjins attention.

“This project will be simple - it’s all about observing. Since this is a PSYCH class, I want you and your partner to pick 3 spots and just simply observe the people around you. For example, if you are at the cafe, what could the person in the corner with her eyebrows furrowed be wondering? Is she studying for an exam? Is she worried about a friend? There are tons of possibilities but I want you and your partner to jot down what you see and explain what you have observed.”

“That’s all for today, I’ll release you guys early so you can all have a head start,” she explained. 

You turn to the boy at your side, “so…you want to be partners?” 

-

Hyunjin doesn’t really know why he said yes, seeming he wasn’t comfortable with your presence at all. He convinces himself that he just didn’t want to go through the extra hassle of finding a partner when you were already available. Besides he could honestly care less, the only reason why he’s taking this class was for the extra units. After all, he was a music major. 

“How about here?” you suggested the grassy area in the middle of the campus. This part of the school was peaceful however it wasn’t quiet. Laughter and chatter from all the different kinds of groups filled up the morning air while the birds chirped along and occasionally, a squirrel or two would cause a bit of a ruckus. 

“We could grab some food and just sit down on the grass,” but the puzzled expression on the boy's face lead you to assume that he didn’t quite like the idea, “just so we would blend in more,” you added, hoping that it would be enough for the boy to say yes. 

“We don’t need to get food. We can just sit here and pretend we're talking, a lot of people around here are doing just that.” He was right. All you could do was nod and let out a sigh as the two of you sat next to each other, observing the scene ahead. You were hoping you could grab a quick bite during this since you still had classes for the rest of the day but that obviously wasn’t the case so you chose to just cover up your rumbling stomach with a cough or two here and there. 

“What do you think about him?” Hyunjin pointed at the boy that was sitting on the bench, flowers in his hand as he types away on his phone. 

“Hmm, I noticed his smile first, he’s practically beaming. He’s probably going to surprise his significant other. His legs bouncing up and down from excitement,” you chuckle, finding the anonymous boys’ action cute, “he’s probably texting them right now so they could meet up,” you concluded. You turn to Hyunjin, noticing his eyes slightly widen at your response. “What do you think?” you ask, slightly nudging him out of his trance.

“well... I think you’re right that he’s waiting for someone. But for me, he’s probably gonna confess to that person...uhmm, his ears are pink so he’s nervous… probably afraid of rejection. Because of this he’s probably texting a friend for advice,” he observed.

His answer didn’t surprise you, after all, you’ve already seen some of the deepest parts of him - even if he was unaware. On the other hand, he was in awe. Your guys’ answers were so different from the other. The way you viewed the scene ahead as something positive while his was more on the negative side. This sparked interest in him. But he breaks out of his thoughts as he hears your failed attempt to hide your growling stomach for the umpteenth time. 

He stands to his feet, grabbing you along with him. “Uhm, where are we going?”

He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs your hand and drags you along until you’ve arrived at the university’s main food court. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your stomach rumbling for the past twenty minutes,” he teases as you try to hide the blush that was making its way upon your cheeks. Now you were left speechless, nothing in the boy’s music has suggested that he had this sweet side to him. The side that would easily let someone in. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you admitted as Hyunjin handed you the sandwich he had ordered, one for you and one for him. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry that I came off strong on the first day,” you apologized, aware of the way that you’ve been pushing his buttons and leaving him uncomfortable. 

“Why did you ask for my playlist?” He was finally going to get an answer to the event that has left him stunned for the past week. 

“It’s just a thing I do,” you confess nonchalantly, “I check to see if  we have similar taste in music and from there, I come to a conclusion on whether or not you’re cool enough for me to talk to,” you lied. You weren’t going to admit to him that the reason you do it was to analyze him. I mean, what kind of person assumes a person’s whole character through their songs, right? 

He wouldn’t understand. 

Honestly, you don’t even really understand yourself why you do it. Maybe because you liked having the upper hand - that way, no one can hurt you. 

Hyunjin lets out a laugh and you feel a little guilty. “So, if my songs were bad, you wouldn’t talk to me?” he chuckles. 

“Yeah, no… not in a million years,” you joked, laughing along with him. 

“So what would be a bad song to you?” he questions, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I don't know, uhh-despacito?” you snicker

Honestly, there were no such things as bad songs. When it comes to songs, everyone is entitled to their own opinions but you had to play along with the little lie that you’ve already started.

“Hey! I like that song!” Hyunjin retorts, playfully throwing a crumpled up tissue paper along your direction, the two of you sharing a laugh as the small guilt you felt a while ago diminishes. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him anyways. You only see each other once a week and it was for class. Otherwise, you never see the brown haired boy on campus. You didn’t even know of his existence until you startled him with your question. 

The only reason he became your target was because the only empty seat was the one next to him. 

two. 

Second location. A frat party at the famous 3RACHA unit, who you’ve learned were good friends of Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin’s idea, convincing you that you guys will probably get a higher grade if you’ve incorporated various kinds of scenes. Plus, it was his first frat party and he didn’t want to miss it. You on the other hand was dreading this night ever since he brought it up in class last week. Parties weren’t your thing, you would much rather stay at home binging netflix shows, reading fanfictions, or watching compilations of your favorite kpop idols. But here you are now, rummaging the kitchen for something that didn’t contain alcohol as you’ve given up searching for the boy himself.  

“y/n!, heyy,” Hyunjin stumbles in, a red solo cup in his hand. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Can we please get this over with so I can leave,” you huffed, annoyed at the boy in front of you and the situation that you’ve found yourself in. 

“No.” He pouts before letting out a laugh, his eyes turning into little moons. 

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“Let’s have some fun first!” he beamed, dragging your hand out of the kitchen and into the party, ignoring your many protests. “Hyunjin, I didn’t come here for fun!” you sigh, arms crossing as you finally put a halt to the boys actions. 

“C’mon y/n, loosen up a little bit… you’re in the first party of the most popular frat in town, enjoy it while you can.” This time he holds his hand out, though his eyes had a tinge of red from the alcohol that was playing in his system, the sincerity in them couldn’t be missed. 

And so you do.

 You take his hand in yours as he shoots you one of his signature smiles. You party the night away with the boy at your side. He introduced you to a handful of new people but you forgot their names as soon as it came out of their mouths. 

-

You had way too much to drink but somehow you find yourself stumbling towards the park nearby, the boy's hand still in yours as he shares the story of how his best friend Jisung got chased by a duck and you couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. Nothing about your laugh was pretty and if you weren’t so drunk, the embarrassment would’ve probably creeped up by now but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care - not when Hyunjins laugh would mix in with yours and you guys would have to literally cling to each other for strength. 

“Tag, you’re it!” he breaks you out of your thoughts as he starts running away, his laughter still ringing in the air as you chase him. After a while, you give up, you were in no way, shape, or form, fast enough to catch the boy - especially with all the liquor bouncing around your stomach. 

You sit down on the grass, catching your breath, your laughter dying down as your back hits the grass, eyes focusing on the twinkling orbs above. A few seconds later, warmth fills up beside you, Hyunjin taking his place next to you, mirroring your actions. 

“We never observed a person,” you say chuckling, breaking the silence that quickly hung over the two of you. 

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, turning to you. Hyunjin takes this time to fully take in your appearance. No doubt in his mind, you are one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. 

“Why don’t we, umm -,” he pauses, wondering to himself if this was going to be a good idea for him. 

“Why don’t we, what?” you reply quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as you turn to your side coming face to face with the boy himself. Your guys’ face were millimeters apart and the sudden feeling of his breathing being so close to you felt intoxicating. You dart your eyes down to his lips, thinking what it was like to feel them upon yours. 

Hyunjin lets out an awkward cough, breaking the tension in the air as he stares back up at the stars. “Why don’t we observe each other?” he suggests after his heartbeat finally calmed down. 

“Oh uhmm, o-okay,” you say, your voice faltering, pushing back your desire to kiss him. “You first,” you whisper, keeping your eyes locked into his features. 

“uhh, I think you’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with a boy you barely know at 3 in the morning. You don’t want me to notice that you’re actually really pissed at me for dragging you into this party and not getting any of our work done,”

The boy takes a pause as soon as he hears you giggle ‘hyunjin, you are so wrong,’ you think to yourself. 

“You’re the type to always get your shit done and you’ve probably already figured out everything you want in your life ever since you learned how to walk. You… you shouldn’t be wasting your time with someone like me,” he muttered, slowly turning to face you, this time a sad smile placed upon his lips. You sympathize with him, feeling sad with the way that he viewed himself. 

“Okay, uhm…you're anxious right now because you don’t know how i’ll react to your confessions. You’re the type of boy who doesn’t want to let anyone in but at the same time wants to know how it feels to be loved,” you sigh, the guilt you were feeling creeping in once again, slowly eating you up. Hyunjin grew tense under your observations. He hated how easily it is for you to read him when he thought that he was doing a decent job at keeping up with his facade. 

“You don’t notice the way others look at you because you’re too busy nitpicking your flaws. You didn’t notice how you were literally the life of the party back there. You didn’t notice the amount of girls practically begging for your attention…” you hesitate saying the last thing in your mind but as soon as you turned to him and saw the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let the words stumble out of your mouth, “you don’t notice how much I want to kiss you right now,” and with those words out in the open, he brings his hands up to your cheek, slowly placing a light kiss upon your rosy lips and you swear you’ve never tasted anything better. It was a quick kiss, leaving as soon as it came, but the mix of his cherry chapstick and the alcohol created a combination that left you wanting more. Leaning up, you kiss him again, his mouth moving perfectly in sync with yours, deepening the kiss that you find yourself getting more and more addicted to with every second that passes. 

Hyunjin pulls away first, his thoughts finally all coming together as the alcohol was starting to slowly leave his system. He looks at you, the fear evident in his eyes. He fucked up and he knows it. He shouldn’t have kissed you. You guys were friends and frankly, he liked your company. He can never be that guy who starts a relationship with someone. He was sure that he was incapable of love and could never give you what you wanted. You knew this, of course. You knew this from day one. 

“I’m no good for you,” he sighed, mumbling several apologies for the actions that he took. And you realize how truly scared he was. That the tough image he’s keeping up isn’t because he had to but because he truly believed that it was the right thing to do. 

“That’s okay Hyunjin, we can blame it on the alcohol,” you wished you didn’t have to but you knew yourself that you couldn’t let this get deeper than what it was now.

Hyunjin walks you back to your dorm room, making sure you were safe inside before he headed back to his own place. 

-quiet when I’m coming home, i’m all alone. 

three. 

Hyunjin saw too many relationships around him fail, starting from his own parents. For him, love was merely an illusion. A desire that people get caught up with not because they are in love but because they lust the idea of love. The idea of having someone there to hold, to laugh with, to share stories with - it was all bullshit to him because at the end of the story, someone always leaves. Someone always says goodbye. It wasn’t worth it. 

Not for him. 

But sometimes he’ll see a picture on instagram and wonder to himself, could those smiles be permanent? 

“Are you just gonna keep stalking her social media or are you gonna actually talk to her?” Jeongin breaks the boy out of his thoughts. 

“I’m not stalking her!” Hyunjin replies defensively, hiding the pink that was creeping upon his cheeks. 

“I’ve literally been here for the past 3 mins just looking at you scroll through her feed and you didn’t even notice,” the younger boy points out, teasing him. Ever since the night at the park, Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. He knew that the both of you agreed to just forget it but could he really forget something like that? You made him feel what he was scared of the most. You made him feel like he wanted to fall in love. The memory of your lips against his keeps him up at night, your laughter ringing in his ear while the warmth from your fingertips makes him feel like he’s completely losing it. 

How can he still feel you when you were nowhere near him? 

How did you get past his wall so quickly? 

And why, fuck, why does he want you in it? 

-

You, on the other hand, haven't made any effort to reach out either. He was right about you. You were a know-it-all. Ever since you were younger you knew that you wanted to help the people around you. You enjoyed listening to others’, letting them know that they are never alone and that they could always turn to you for advice or simply just if they needed someone to listen to them. You liked the idea of being someone’s safe haven - that’s why you want to be a psychologist. 

But this - the way the boy made you feel, the way he cluttered your every waking thought - this was something you didn’t plan. This was something you didn’t have the answers to. Grabbing your phone, you finally gain the courage to send the boy a text 

Hey, we still have one scenario left, any ideas? - y/n

Hyunjin reads the text, his heart suddenly doing somersaults in the air. ‘Hyunjin, stop.’ he warns himself. He knows that he wasn’t ready to see you and so he ignored it. Grabbing his backpack he shouts a quick, “I'm gonna go practice,” before heading out to the dance rooms to try and clear his head. 

-

umm, what do you think about going to the diner across town? - y/n 

You did it. You double texted. After several hours, the boy still hasn’t responded to your text so you decided to take manners in your own hands. But as soon as you pressed send, you felt pathetic. He’s most likely just busy and that’s why he hasn’t replied but you like to make yourself believe that you had more of an effect on him. 

You were about to scream into your pillow, feeling frustrated at the situation until your phone let out a small ding, indicating that you’ve received a new message. 

sure - hyunjin 

how does tomorrow at 6pm sound ? - y/n 

good - hyunjin

These one word answers were killing you. For someone who usually knows and can assume what’s about to happen beforehand, you were left clueless and that annoyed you.  

-

“Hey, am i late?” hyunjin takes the seat across from you. no, he wasn’t late. you just arrived way earlier than the time planned hoping to calm your nerves before having to face the boy who has settled himself into your mind. 

“What do you think of that girl over there?” you point at the girl who was sitting, laughing along with her group of friends.

“geez y/n, can’t we order something to eat first,” hyunjin jokes. He barely got there and you were already on top of it. typical, he thinks to himself. You let out a small smile, happy at the fact that the boy was teasing you. Honestly, you were afraid that his responses were going to be as bland as his text messages and it has been killing your thoughts the whole night. 

“ok ok,, my bad… let’s order first,” when your food arrived, you fell into a comfortable conversation. like the thoughts that the both of you have been struggling with never existed. but in the middle of the conversation, something clicked within you. 

You can‘t read him anymore and that scared you. 

“honestly i think this whole project is stupid,” hyunjin blurts out, capturing your attention. 

“hmm, why do you say that?”

“i just find it absolutely ridiculous to just judge someone based on one scenario, you know? like i bet all our guesses have been wrong so far,” he confesses and once again the guilt rushes to your heart and you were left speechless. 

“Like I really hate it when people judge others without getting to know them like who do you think you are? Do people who do that actually think they’re better or mightier?” Hyunjin continues and suddenly the space around you feels tight, your lungs struggling to find air. You were the type of person that Hyunjin would hate and that leaves an unsettling feeling in your stomach. 

Hyunjin notices this after a while of you not responding to him and just picking at your food. “y/n, you okay?” he says, eyes filled with worry and you can't help but let out a tear, quickly brushing it off as soon as it hit your cheek. You don’t deserve the way he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone that comes to hurt you. 

“Hyunjin...i’m sorry,” you let out quietly as you tried to stop the rest of your tears from water falling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the diner, leaving a very confused Hyunjin behind to wonder what you were apologizing for. 

four.

7 missed calls 

you don’t dare try to answer any of it. 

the thought of having to face the boy and explain the reasons for your apology hurts you knowing that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. how do you even explain it to him? there is literally no plausible excuse: 

“hey yeah i’m the jerk that you hate because i judged your whole personality based off of five songs,”

“i only did it because i like superiority”

“it also helps me feel better about myself”

yeah. he’ll definitely hate you afterwards. and so you sulk in your room, letting out your frustrated cries, your blanket comforting you as the sound of your phone ringing filled the air. after the 12th call, the ringing finally stops and you feel like you can finally think until a knock on your dorm room brings you back to reality. 

“hey,” he sighs, your eyes immediately widening as you shut the door as quickly as you opened it. 

“y/n, come on!” hyunjin whines

“how did you know this was my room?” you yell through the door. 

“I asked around,” he shouts back “now can you let me in??”

You were frozen in place, hands gripped on your doorknob to make sure that he can’t come in. “Look, we don’t have to talk about what happened okay,” he starts, “but we do have a project due in 2 days and i would like to finish it...so please just ….. just let me in.” He finishes, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth once he comes face to face with the girl that has always been a puzzle to him. 

Entering your dorm room, you notice that the boy's hair is a bit disheveled and you wonder how many times he has let his hands run through them due to frustration. He’s doing his best to hide his furrowed eyebrows and keep a calm expression but you see through all of it. 

you’re doing it again. you think to yourself.  

“okay let’s just make up a scenario since we didn’t get one at the diner,” you suggest, finally breaking the silence that hung above the two of you. 

“why did you apologize?” hyunjin quietly asks, his gaze fixed strongly on you and you find yourself having to sit down due to the impact of his stare. 

“hyunjin…. you said we didn’t have to talk about it,” you responded, trying to change the subject. 

“I lied. I need to know the answers y/n. I need to know why you seem to see through my walls. I need to know how you dug a hole in my mind and stayed in it because I want you out. I don’t know what I’m feeling when it comes to you and I don’t like it.”

“How??? How can you see right through me?!”He frustratedly confesses, his voice getting louder with every question that leaves his mouth. 

“What?? are you a stalker??? Is that why you know?? have you been following me around ??”

“No!” you responded quickly, shutting down the assumptions that the boy has managed to come up with. 

“It’s your music.” you finally confess, your heart tightening as the words left your mouth, afraid of what’s to come next. 

Hyunjin stares at you, his mind finally connecting all the dots. The reason you asked for his playlist. The reason why you knew his stories and insecurities. All of it was because he gave you access to his music. And suddenly he felt bare. All his hiding, all the walls he put up, it was all useless when it came to you. 

“The last song in that playlist…” he starts but you finish the sentence for him, “please love me by colde,” your glassy eyes staring back up at him. 

“so, will you?” hyunjin asked, worry laced within his voice. 

“y-you’re not mad at me?” you stuttered, the boy's actions leaving your mind in a maze. he shakes his head. oddly enough, he didn’t feel any anger towards you. noticing that you were left in your thoughts to make sense of the situation at hand, he offers you a soft smile, “after knowing how troubled my mind was, you still stayed.”  

“i think i already do…” you confess, eyes fixated on him, “love you, that is,” you say mirroring the small smile that was on the boy’s face. 

At your confession, Hyunjin let’s out a shaky breath. 

“will you let me love you?” you ask him, a gentle tone laced within your voice, afraid of the answer to come. 

your eyes never breaking contact with his, you moved closer to him. hyunjins eyes darts down to your lips and suddenly the answer seemed so clear. 

love. 

the word that terrifies him the most. the thing that the boy has been swearing off ever since he was little. love was something hyunjin never understood but every time he looks at your eyes, every time he feels your warmth next to him, and now as your lips move in perfect sync with his, it all seems to make sense.

(a/n): this ending is so rushed and im not sure if im entirely happy with it but i really did not know what to do for the longest time. i was thinking of just scrapping the whole thing tbh but anyways....

feedback is always welcomed and my ask is always open :) 

thank you for reading! 

[itsclydebitches]

How do you manage to write so much? I have this fic I'm working on and I know exactly what I want to happen in the scenes, but I struggle with actually writing the prose for it and describing the events. Even getting 500 words out is hard, so seeing you churning out content is pretty amazing to me (especially because it's all so good). If you have any tips to share it would be really appriciated!

First - thank you so much, anon! I was literally just thinking tonight about how I haven’t written enough lately and then you come in with “How do you manage to write so much?” So I think that’s a good thing for every writer to keep in mind: how we might perceive our accomplishments doesn’t necessarily reflect what we’ve actually accomplished. Those feelings are something I’d like to address here. As is abundantly obvious, the advice I’m about to offer is stuff I often struggle to follow too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But let’s see... yes, I’ve got 10 tips (nice round number) for producing writing, approaching your writing, and dealing with that pesky “How do I describe events?” issue. These are in no good order:  

1. Reject the “Write ___ amount of words every day” advice. It doesn’t work. Or if it does work it’s because we’re prioritizing writing over literally everything else, which I personally don’t think is healthy. The days I haven’t written recently include things like “Battling a bad cold” and “Spent the day with Dad in the ER” (he’s fine!). If I had forced myself to write on those days it would have been in lieu of taking time to rest/recuperate, so I didn’t. If I were still demanding of myself, “You can’t lose your writing streak 😡” then I would have felt intensely guilty about taking that time to rest. That’s just training yourself to associate writing with negative emotions. Instead, I’ve started tracking my progress with Word Keeper.

As you can see, it’s all over the place, but over the last month I’ve found that it has given me a much better sense of what I’m accomplishing overall. Rather than getting upset about days where I only wrote a tiny amount, or didn’t write at all, I can now also easily remind myself of the days when I wrote a whole lot, or the days where I managed to be fairly consistent. Let your writing fluctuate. There’s something to be said for not being dependent on motivation (there are plenty of times where I encourage myself to write even if I don’t want to), but don’t hold yourself to overly rigid standards either. 

2. Consider rejecting the “Write for an hour every morning/carve out a specific time to do nothing but writing” advice. If that works for you, great. Me? I’ll never manage it. Beyond the fact that I would murder mornings if I could and, as established, don’t do well with a rigid schedule, my brain is way too hyperactive to focus on one task for long. And by “long” I mean... more than 10-15 minutes. So what I personally do is alternate tiny bits of writing with something else I want to accomplish, usually another task I’m having trouble focusing on. Let’s say I need to read an article and I want to write those 500 words. Both tasks are rather daunting. 500 words? 35 pages?? No thank you. I can, however, manage 100 words and 5 pages... so I just alternate. Read 5 pages. Write 100 words. Read 5 more pages. Another 100 words. Back and forth, with amounts that work for you. Whatever is doable, even if that means something like 10 words and half a page. And if you find yourself going, “Wait, wait just 100 more words so I can finish this scene,” all the better. Do that for an afternoon and you’ve made significant headway on both projects. You can also alternate with something you want to do. I finished the latest Before the Dawn recap by doing that with The Clone Wars. One 20 minute episode, then 250 words, essentially using my show as a reward system: write that little bit so you can find out what stupidity Anakin does next. 

Speaking of rewards...

3. Try using 4 The Words. I absolutely love this website because it turns writing into a game and I am an absolute sucker for validation of any sort. Essentially, you get to choose how much writing you want to get done in a single sitting - either timed or by word count - and that goal corresponds with a monster to defeat. Write the required amount in the allotted time period and you receive rewards for your avatar, experience, etc. If you’re like me and enjoy games at all, that’s a huge motivator. Maybe you’d never consider trying to write 750 words in a single sitting, but the 750 words monster drops the specific loot you need to finish a quest... so why not give it a try? I find that the time limits are quite generous and the system counts any words you’ve written, not what you decide to keep. Remember that writing is writing, so even if you churn out those 750 words and then decide you hate the whole scene, that time wasn’t wasted. It’s helping you figure out what you do want instead. 

4. Don’t set those rigid standards, but try to hold yourself accountable in some manner too. That’s why when I changed my blog theme I decided to put what project I was working on in the bio and what I planned to work on next. Whether anyone actually cares about that doesn’t matter, I perceive that as, “Damn I told everyone I’d have a Witcher drabble done next. Better work on that!” That veneer of accountability helps keep me on track. 

5. It sounds like you’ve already got an outline - which is great! Once you know what you want to happen, keep in mind that you don’t have to write it in that order. This is something I still really struggle with because I often post chaptered fics as I go. I can’t be writing Chapter 20 when Chapter 15 isn’t even out yet! But sometimes that’s the best way to get past your road block. If you’ve got a scene in your head that’s a little more clear, even if it’s just a tiny description or dialogue exchange, go write that instead of beating your head against the part where you’re stuck. 

6. Regarding the specific issue of prose and describing events: daydream about it. Be the most cliche, cringy author who falls headfirst into their own worlds. A lot of times when I’m stuck I try to stop thinking about this as me writing a scene. Rather, it’s a scene for me to escape into when I’m bored in the car, or falling asleep, or tuning out an awkward conversation. Presumably you want to spend time in the world you’ve created, so let yourself do that, either as an outside observer or taking the place of one of the characters. Fantasize about this moment and then afterwards think back to what your brain conjured up. Going, “I need to write this fight scene now” is kind of daunting and maybe you just sit there, having no idea how “fight scene” translates into actual pages of action. If, however, you daydream about an epic battle you might later go, “Oh yeah! I/they did that cool flip move to disarm the opponent. Let’s see if I can describe that...” 

7. If the problem is more “I know there’s going to be a cool flip move but how do I describe that without just saying ‘The hero did a cool flip move’???” Let yourself just write “The hero flipped the sword out of his enemy’s hands.” Probably the most annoying part about writing (besides, you know, all of it) is remembering that you can, should, and must revise. Write a shitty description and move on. Come back to it later. Composing the rest of the scene will help you make the description less shitty the second time around. And want to know a secret? It’s probably not nearly as shitty as you first thought it was. A lot of times I churn out what feels like truly horrific descriptions, let it sit for a while, and when I come back to the work as a “new” reader I think, “You know what? There are definitely things I want to change, but this isn’t nearly as bad as I remember it being...” Again, writers often can’t be trusted to judge their own accomplishments. 

8. Research things. Watch stuff. Read stuff - and pay attention to the fact that you’re currently reading to learn. No one is born knowing how to write compelling scenes. That comes of not just practice, but engaging with a ton of other stories and consciously/unconsciously pulling from them. Not sure how to write a cool fight scene? Go read some cool fight scenes. Watch your favorites on Youtube. Pull a detail from here, there, then weave them into something new. Some authors claim they won’t engage with any stories similar to their own because they don’t want to taint their own ideas, but that’s just trying to write without providing yourself with any fuel. If you want to know how to describe a farm, go read others’ descriptions of farms, look at pictures of farms, watch TV shows with farms in them, etc. Same with anything else you might be stuck on. 

9. Remind yourself that some kinds of writing are going to come more easily to you than others. That’s not just in regards to things like dialogue vs. prose, but also big categories like fiction vs. nonfiction. Me? I can (quite obviously...) write a ton when it comes to asks and recaps. Explaining my own thought process comes very easily to me, and I’m long-winded, which means that when the project is something like, “Tell readers what you thought about this book” I can churn out 4,000 words easy peasy. Fiction though? That’s a slog. That’s where I’m writing in 100 words chunks, sometimes pulling each word out with all the joy of enduring a root canal. I will never - EVER - be a Stephen King writing 2,000 words of fiction a day. And that’s okay! Every writer is different and it does no good to compare ourselves to others who are writing more (hard as that is) because there will always be someone doing it “better.” That’s a competition we can’t win. Getting writing done is as much a mindset as it is a skill. Teaching yourself to go, “Yeah! 50 words today!! :D” is going to help more than berating yourself with, “Oh. Only 50 words today :(” But a part of that is also recognizing that you probably wrote a whole lot more than just 50 words. Do you write for your job? Answer emails? Keep a journal? Answer asks? Text whole conversations with your friends? Writing of all sorts takes energy and it all “counts.” If you spent the day catching up on your messages, it’s no wonder you might struggle to write more during your free time. Saying you “haven’t written” today because you didn’t write fiction as well as all the writing we naturally do on a daily basis is absurd. Sometimes you’ve just got to recognize that and let yourself watch some TV instead. 

10. Finally, WRITE “BAD” THINGS. This is something I’m still really, really struggling with. It’s very much connected to #7, but try to let yourself accept what you’ve produced at a certain point. Doing that will, in time, help you produce more things in the first place. The author who obsesses over writing the perfect paragraph is unlikely to get to the second... and writing the second paragraph is what’s going to help them develop the skills to make the first paragraph better. Put aside the perfectionism. I’m currently trying to do that with my original work. I have lots of ideas for flash fiction and, like you, I know precisely what will happen in them... but I struggle to actually write the stupid things. I’ve recognized that a lot of that difficulty stems from how bad I perceive them to be. When a story doesn’t sound like that flash fiction with the national award attached to it my brain goes, “Well, looks like we’re trash! Time to stop writing forever and ever 🙃” At some point you’ve just got to take a mental broom and beat that bastard voice into the back of your mind, far enough to start writing again. Try to accept that no, our prose probably won’t win any awards. Also try to accept that hey, someday maybe it will. But neither can be reality until we actually write the story. So one of these days I’ll set a goal for a flash fiction, finish it, post it here for you masses to judge, and try to shrug off all the scary feelings that come with that. Every good writer has to write a LOT of bad stuff in order to start producing something decent, let alone good... so let yourself do that. The more we can concentrate on why we want to write, rather than those “Ugh this description isn’t good enough” or “I can’t even get 500 words done” feelings, the more we create a situation where, in time, we will write astounding descriptions and far more than 500 words. 

All of which is much MUCH easier said than done. But I hope this helps at least a little, anon! 💜

[peachywise]

nullify

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader 

- part i: the introduction || part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part iv ⋆ part v ⋆ part vi ⋆  more parts to be released 

- synopsis: A child and a ghost whisperer walk into a diner. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but really it’s just the start of an odd, slightly painful night. Turns out they need you and your power to do something, and Klaus seems way to thrilled and fascinated by you and what you can do. (takes place after the events of the first season) 

- notes: lmao how long has it been since i wrote a fic?? too long thanks anyways the reader is they/them pronouns and everything is pretty vague description wise for inclusivity and shit!! also even though this is klaus x reader focused ~romance~ wise i’ll be writing a shit ton with the reader interacting with the other guys like this part is deadass just as focused on number five as it is klaus. let me know if you guys want this as a series??? i won’t write more parts if people aren’t down but i left it open-ended so it could be a series but honestly, it’d be fine as a one-off too so read what you will k love you bye. tw for swearing

link on ao3 

________________________________________

“Isn’t that a health code violation?” 

Looking up from your book you'd been reading for the past half hour, you heaved a heavy-handed sigh. Sitting on the back counter of the dead dinner you worked at was the least of this shitty establishments problems. “I’ll be sure to let the rats in the kitchen know of your concerns,” you replied simply. 

Dog-earring the page of your book, you set it down beside you. Hopping off, you stepped forward towards the counter as the kid who just entered sat down on one of the stools, planting himself with a look of clear repugnance as he eyed his surrounding subtly. Resting your elbows on the counter, you propped your head on your hands and gave a friendly grin, “I’m sure they’d be happy to whip up some Mickey Mouse pancakes, special just for you.” 

His face though perfectly deadpanned couldn’t hide the slight tick of annoyance in his eyes. “Just get me a black coffee,” he muttered. 

“Coffee will stunt your growth.” 

“You’ll be stunted if you keep up this horrible customer service.”

“Ouch,” sarcasm dripped from your tone as you raised your hands up in mock defeat, “the kitten’s got a bit of a bite there, doesn’t he?” 

Quite honestly, your day was now veering on to a particularly delightful route you hadn’t expected when you first woke up this morning. You suddenly believed some sort of divine karma was finally rewarding you with some quality entertainment. He could banter— a bit on the aggressive side, but you would take what you could get out of the interaction. You knew it wasn’t going to last long. 

“Look, are you going to give me the coffee or are you just going to stand around all day uselessly taking in the air that could be breathed in by more deserving people?” 

Oh, so he’s got knobby knees and wit to match. 

Letting a slow amused smile cross your face as you gave a lazy curtsy, you casually made your way over to the fresh pot and grabbed one of the porcelain white mugs, giving him a knowing look as you poured a good ‘ol black cup of joe. Setting the pot back down, you sauntered your way back over still holding the smile. The kid rolled his eyes, reaching out a hand as he impatiently said, “thank you,” in a refined and expertly practiced condescending manner. But you didn’t hand it to him. No, instead you casually leaned back against the back counter and took a long sip of the burning hot liquid. 

Well, the little tyke certainly did not like that. 

In what was an actually flash of blue light before your eyes, the kid vanished from his place on the rickety red vinyl stool and was beside you a moment later, ripping the mug from your hand with such force that caused the liquid to spill over the sides, scorching your hand and splashing it on your already grease stained, 50’s themed uniform. So, he was words and action. You could respect that. 

“What, no screaming? Not even another smartass comment?” He half-heartedly asked, his eyebrow quirked slightly as he studied you. It was like he was waiting for some sort of delayed reaction from his little magic trick. While yes, it was a little jarring to see it in the flesh for the first time, the moment he had walked through those glass doors you expected a bit of a ‘powerful’ confrontation.

You knew he was Number Five. You knew he was a part of that Umbrella Academy. 

“You know who I am,” he stated in his all brilliant glory. Well, look at that. Seemed he was a real Sherlock as well as a tiny space hopper.  

Easily taking the cup of coffee back, wincing slightly as the cold air pressed against the new burn you tried to seem unfazed about, you took a sip and mumbled against the rim of the cup, “I’m a bit surprised you’re here and actually alive, but it’s easy to remember a face that hasn’t aged a day." Setting the mug down on the counter, you pressed a hand to your hip and questioned, “how is that exactly? Did you run from home just to make yourself immortal? Found yourself an Edward Cullen to bite you or something?” 

Now, you’ve had people look at you like you were stupid before, but no one with a talent such as him. Even though he was looking up at you, he still mastered that beady squinty little look that read ‘you’re the joke of the earth’. Precious. 

“I don’t know who Edward Cullen is, but I’m not immortal, and I don’t have time to explain the whole story to you in detail. Let’s just say I got stuck in time.” Doing his little magic flash again, he appeared back on the other side of the counter, continuing to speak as he added, “Is anyone else here? I assume you’d rather show me what you can do without anyone else around.” 

Ah, yes. What you could do. So that was why he was here. Part of you wondered if someday it would happen. That’s why you knew who he was when he first walked in after all. You kept tabs on all of them, at least a bit. Yeah, the whole “Umbrella Academy” was famous for a little while when you were a kid, but most people had since forgotten them and the kids in the academy had grown up and had become almost unrecognizable. Well, apart from Five. And maybe Allison, but hell, she was famous for a while different reason now. 

Like the others, you were born October 1st 1989 to a completely unexpecting mother who got the shock of her god damn life. If you were 9 months pregnant in under a minute flat, you’d probably be pretty shocked too. However, you were just stunned that something as odd as that could actually happen and result in you getting powers.

Unlike the others, when your parents were approached by professor evil monopoly Reginald Hargreeves, your mom rejected anything he offered in favor of her miracle baby. She was certain she was the new Virgin Mary despite absolutely not being a virgin and refused to give up that title up. At least at that moment, she didn’t want to anyway.  

“You managed to figure out where I worked, and I assume at this point you know my name,” you started, “so why don’t you just tell me what I can do and let me know why you're here so I can turn you down and get back to my book.” Gesturing your hands around the extremely empty diner, you breathed, “I’m a very busy person as you can see.” 

Five didn’t say anything, instead just giving you an almost thoughtful look. You didn’t trust it one fucking bit. 

Quicker than you would have expected out him, he reached over and picked up one of the plates on the counter and threw it your way with such force you wondered for a second if the reason he'd been missing for so long was because he’d taken up a passionate love affair with baseball. On instinct, damn the treacherous thing, your body chilled as a static feeling pushed out of you, surrounding you in a soft, nearly invisible blue bubble-- your force field. The plate bounced right off and landed on the floor, shattering lamely and loudly. 

It was legal to kill a kid who had been missing for years, right?

“Can’t you play a game of catch with the poor kid?” Came a new drama-dripped voice in the door, the little bell ringing softly as he spoke. “His father was a sociopath who didn't pay him any mind, he’s very stunted as you can see. So desperate for the affection and attention of strangers.” 

Klaus. He’d been harder to track over the years, but from the feather collared jacket and lack of shirt, you could spot the eccentricity of him miles away. 

Taking on a protective stance, you moved from behind the counter and positioned yourself in front of Five, stage whispering to him, “careful, looks like one of the kitchen rats got out. They’re very diseased.”

Klaus tilted his head to the side, his mouth snapping open and his eyebrows rising up in stunned amusement. Pointing at you, he turned his attention towards Five and stated, “I’m wounded! This seems to be going on spectacularly, don’t you think?”

Shaking your head with a slight grin, you started to speak to ream five out for throwing a freakin’ plate, but your words died off on the tip of your tongue when your gross ass boss pushed open the doors to the kitchen, his loud, gritty greased voice shouted, “what did you break out here?” His spine went rigid a bit when he seemed to finally note the presence of two other people, but his eyes quickly glanced at the shattered plate and his face continued to get splotchy and red. “Is that your kid who broke it? Jesus, that’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Wow, that 50 cent shitty plate? How would you ever survive? 

Hands slipped around your neck in a hug as Klaus propped his chin on top of your head, his attention fully on your boss. “I’m so sorry sir, you know how it is with kids, gotta get all those angst and deep-seated feeling out somehow. Yesterday we found out he’s been pretending the family cat was his girlfriend. Had to take him to the hospital to get those scratches on his little friend checked out, if you know what I mean,” he smiled, moving away from you to pat the clearly seething Five on the head. 

Before the kid could say anything or do something that would get you in more shit, you plastered your own happy little smile on and bent down beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you continue to address your boss. “He was just upset because he found out I told his teacher about his little bed wetting problem.” Five ripped your arm away with incredible force and stepped away from you both. Sighing dramatically, you rested the side of your face on your palm and slightly shook your head, adding, “It’s so hard, I just don’t know where we went wrong!” 

Klaus snickered behind you, while your boss looked properly petrified and regretful about having walked in on the whole ordeal at all. 

“Just uh-- forget about it. Clean it up okay?” 

Giving him a wink and you stood back up, you flicked your wrist in a lazy salute. “You got it, Boss Man.” He couldn’t turn back around and get back to the back room fast enough. 

Turning the face the two once again, Klaus grinned as he said, “brilliant work,” raising his hand for a knowing high five. You happily obliged. 

“Was that really necessary?” Five ground out from between his teeth, as you shot him back an incredulous look. “Was it necessary to throw a plate at me?” you retorted, fully not expecting him to reply with, “Yes. It was the only way I could make sure you had a force field.” 

Smartass.

Running your hand through your hair tiredly to get it out of your face, you crossed your arms again and didn’t bother to argue anymore. “Just tell me what this is about.” At this point, you were tired and really just wanted to get back to your quiet night. Klaus was also giving you a once over every thirty seconds and you weren’t quite sure what he looked so bloody excited and anxious about. 

“I have a theory, and I’d like to test it out,” Five said. Klaus quickly interjected with, “and I’m one of the test subjects,” wiggling his eyebrows as he did. 

Narrowing your gaze, you questioned “one of?” 

“Well, it requires you, but before I explain, to what extent can you use your powers? Have you done anything more than just deflect things off your field?”

You shook your head, confusion still clouding your words. “That’s all. Some guy tries to knife me? He bounces off. Sometimes I get lucky and he stabs himself in the process. It’s a simple thing. 

“How many times has someone tried to knife you?” Klaus asked with a small snort, but Five cut him off with a great little bomb of information. “I’ve done some calculations on how your power works, and I think that if someone like us was in the field with you it might nullify our powers.”Huh.

“And... math makes you think that?” 

Five rolled his eyes. You got the idea he did that a fair bit. “I want to test out to see if that’s true, so if you will,  please conjure up your field around you and Klaus and we’ll see if it works on him.” 

Flashing your eyes to Klaus who almost seemed to jitter with excitement, your eyes got slightly wide when you asked, “wait, there’s a ghost here? Like right now?” You swiveled your head around like you would actually be able to see it.  

Klaus nodded his head. “Ben, meet Y/N, Y/N meet our brother Ben.” Pressing a hand to his heart, he added, “forever in our hearts and forever by my side. I am his saving grace.” Turning his head abruptly, he quickly said, “shut up,” to the air-- or Ben, rather-- slicing his hand in a silencing sound. 

Raising a hand hesitantly, you gave a flick of your wrist in that direction, squeaking out a small, “Hi Ben.” 

“If you two idiots are done,” Five muttered, but you stopped him as you said, “three idiots. It’s rude to dismiss Ben’s presence. You're his brother, be respectful.” Five ignored you. “The sooner we test this, the sooner we can leave.”  

Oh, now he was speaking your language. 

Shaking out your shoulders, you widened your stance and clapped your hands, saying, “alright, let's go.” Klaus gave some excited little claps as he stepped to your side, telling Five, “field trips are always so much fun!” 

Taking in a deep breath, you let the energy seep out of you until that familiar snap surrounded you, this time entrapping not on you, but Klaus as well. 

The smiling man quickly went silent. 

“So,” you started hesitantly, turning to study his face. “Did it work?” 

Multiple emotions seemed to cross his features, and it revealed to you certain hopelessness and vulnerability that was so unfamiliar to you and what you had known about him. It dawned on you at that moment that you had no idea what this meant. To him. To Five. Christ, nerves started to wrack through your body when you realized they could be having you do this just to try and kill you because they see it as some sort of ridiculous threat. Still, that seemed unlikely. No, they needed it somehow. 

And as Klaus turned towards you, looking at you as if you were some wonderous figure and not just some crappy diner waiter working two jobs just to get by, you realized that whatever they had been searching for, they had found. Whatever Klaus had been searching for, he had found. 

“They’re gone.” 

His voice was just a fraction above a whisper, but it sent a chill across your skin as his intense gaze once again studied you with incredible fascination. But as he took a step forward, his hand oh-so-gently reaching for your hand, your focus went away and the force field fell, all the sounds and senses of the real world hitting you all at once. 

Five was staring at you both with an odd look you didn’t quite know what to think of. 

“Alright."

Clearing your throat, you took a small step back as the fog cleared out of your head, stating back a dull, “huh?” 

“We’ll be at your apartment in the morning. Get ready to meet the others.” 

Wait, what the fuck?

“My apartment? You guys haven’t even explained what you guys want from me!” You blurted, moving your head rapidly as you looked back and forth between the two. 

“I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” was all Five said, as both him and Klaus began moving towards to door, clearly content with what they came here to do. Well, that was nice for them. They could sleep soundly as you sat up in bed all night looking up fucking umbrella academy conspiracy theories to try and convince yourself what happened here was actually real. 

“There’s no way in hell you’re getting those Mickey Mouse pancakes now!” You shot back as he exited the door, huffing as you turned around to go clean up the plate.

Then something smacked hard on the back of your head, landing on the ground with a little rattle. 

“Oopsie.”

Spinning around, gripping the back of your head, you were about to yell obscenities at Klaus who’d just thrown a spoon of all things, but he was already halfway out the door calling behind him, “I thought your little bubble would just appear like a party trick, bye!” 

Idiots. Idiots had just taken over your life. 

[indie-struggle]

The Brass Tacks: 9 Billion Thoughts and Counting...

It looks long, but if you're a writer you should have no problem reading this. There are a lot of writers out there. A lot of writers out there. A lot. Think about how many writers you know and aspiring writers you come across and writers who are working on a script or even a novel, and then think about the fact you're only thinking in terms of your own country... maybe even just your state. Does the world need another fucking screenwriting book? No. There are both sides of the paradigm: McKee's Story, and O'Bannon's Guide to Screenplay structure. The only book on screenwriting that doesn't exist is the one that takes you from point A: as a complete amateur, and then helps you turn your script into a produced film for little to no budget at all, and finally to point B: a festival and distribution. Why doesn't this book exist? Because either they don't know how to do this or they're selfish and want to keep it to themselves. You think John Sayles or Jim Jarmusch wants everyone knowing point A-Z on how to go about doing what they do and get away with it? Actually, they'd probably be okay with it, but they'd never write a book. All the books out there are by hacks who never had anything produced, which is why they have the time and stamina to write them. Now back to the point. There are a fuck ton of writers out there. There are a fuck ton of filmmakers out there. Now I don't know if this is getting through yet, and I don't know if it all got more popular due to consumer product advancement and the internet, or it's always been this popular and I didn't know about it until the internet. Either way, there are way too many hacks. There is too much crap. Self-titled Youtube star: You've written 3 short scripts - not enough. You haven't put in the time it takes to understand wholly and completely the fantastically dreadful and agonizing world that writing is. You don't know shit yet. You need to put in your hours, your dues. You're not going to know enough by reading 5 screenplays and watching comic book movies over and over and over again. You're not - come to terms with that. What the hell do you have to draw from? It would be like a singer thinking they're ready to cut an album after 3 lessons, a show party, and an invite to a backstage orgy a of couple times. Here are my tips from a working, produced writer and director that has tried to help as many people as possible, but still can't seem to get it all through their thick fucking heads. And if you think I'm base or coarse, try working with James Cameron and you'll realize I'm the nicest fucking guy in the state of California - so here's 10 things: #1. Put in your hours. Like anything else, filmmaking: writing, directing, producing, budgeting, electric, gripping, etc, etc - even craft services must know how to cook the food you eat, they don't just flop the first thing they make onto a plate and say, "Well that looks edible. Good luck, everybody." But what does hours mean? It means writing, writing again, again and again and again. Taking breaks here and there, sure, thinking about story, figuring things out, reading, watching, being uncertain, and having zero to fall back on. I want to stress that last part. If you have something to fall back on you'll never get anywhere - you've already set your hindsight on a safety net so you'll never put your whole life and passion into your work. Put in the hours. Put in the years. Get film history and not just American films either - I've said this until I was blue in the face: every writer or filmmaker you idolize film history is soaked in foreign and American films dating to 1920 and possibly before. You’re not going to be like them without doing that. Period. Get to work. #2. You're going to be rejected. Say that to yourself. You... are going... to be... rejected. It is a fact of life. If there is one thing that Stephen King got right in his book to himself. It's that no matter where or who you are, or what you want to do, there will always be somebody who doesn't want you to do it. It's just a fact. Get over it, fuck them. Because if all it takes is someone to say, "I don't like it." to get you to fall to pieces, you never stood a chance to begin with. This is the only rule I know that's 100% true. You have to say fuck what anyone thinks, but still know where you lie, know your skill set, and know your place in the chain of command. #3. There is no how to do it book. If these motherfuckers like [removed] and [removed], [removed], [removed], [removed], and [removed], knew what they were talking about, they wouldn't be writing books or critiquing to make ends meet, they'd be working on the exact thing they're trying to give you advice on. Look at me for example. I've had over 5 feature films made - have I any desire to write a book about it? Do I want to write a book? Fucking no - why? It takes a staggering amount of arrogance to write a "Here’s the rules." book. Perhaps I'll do a seminar if I make it to 80, though. #4. Get offline. Leave, take a break from it. Disconnect. You need something to stimulate your mind. The internet does not stimulate your mind. This is why I hardly post, because I'm outside, doing shit, and stimulating my subconscious through conscious activities. Example: surfing, building puzzles, painting (poorly), walking around town and people watching, taking a class to learn something new, reading a novel and not falling asleep, trying to meet nice people, failing, etc. I was - and I'm going brag now - hugged by a woman who I told to get the fuck off facebook. Why? Because it's a poisonous environment. When you first wanted to do the things you did as a child - that great feeling and anticipation of doing it - did you check first to see what others might think? No, you just did it. People who spend their life on the internet, that's all they got, and it's all they'll ever have. Like assholes at the gym everyday. That's their life. And much like a book, there is no secrets that will plant you in the door to where you want to be out there that’s on the internet. You need to do the work that doesn't require anyone's opinion - especially not from a poisonous swamp. Disconnect. Trust me on this. No TV, no internet. No reading this. #5. No, you don't have a great idea for a TV show. Day after day after day I'm pitched TV show ideas, and they're all fucking terrible. "Well maybe Netflix will--" No, they won't. And if they do, great, fantastic, but what does that mean in the end? Netflix has an agenda. There are reasons you can't see things on there. Even 30 year comedians can't get specials released on there because they're too "risky" or "Dangerous" for this "climate" blah-blah-blah (Nick Di Paolo comes to mind). In the end you'll just be a stenographer pandering to smiling execs under a different logo, is that what you want? To be a tool for money? A whore? God, if my parents could only see me now. If you want to do that, then fine, have at it - but get out of my sandbox - because I bet you dollars to donuts, at the end of the day, you'll feel cheap, hollow, and empty inside if you have any insides left. Just because some random show got picked up, doesn't mean it has the weight or resilience to continue. You must know this. Even pros like David Milch have had shows ripped from his grasp by idiot studio executives that went to Brown and think they know what you want to see. It's bullshit. Netflix is even more brutal in cutting throats - they'll just stop the show, period. At least studios and production companies will say no beforehand, that's the only difference. What makes me so certain? I wrote for one of the shows on there, and I’ve worked with these people (if you can call it that). #6. You must realize that not every story is aimed at a Hollywood studio's idea of a universal audience. Just like not all music is aimed for Tower Records or EMI. Ambitions do not have to be at studio level production budgets. They don't. If that's what you like - making big action packed sci-fi what have you - then by all means have at it. But never (which is something I try never to say) judge someone else's work under a shallow pretense that it's written for the Hollywood studio system. Always keep an objective mind. And if you're not experienced enough to know what a certain story is aimed at, what budget it's written for, what audience it will appeal to (as if that's important), than ask or say nothing at all. Do not assume Sally's cute story about women and their troubles with men was aimed for a studio production, because it wasn't. And you pretending it was makes you look like an inexperienced ass. Avoid that. #7. Yes, no one owes you a read. But, just because someone read your work also doesn't entitle them to be a piece of shit for the sake of being a piece of shit. You're allowed to ignore. Personal preference is not the same as criticism. It's not - never has been. Didn’t I do an article on this? You must know how to dicern between the two. I'm on both sides of this. I've read a lot of crap, but I've read a lot of decent work as well. A lot of the crap was of stuff I liked and disliked, and same with the decent reads. It did not, however, effect my criticism - I set my personal preferences aside - and judged for what didn't work as a story. And you need to do this as well. Judge it for what it is, not what you want it to be, what you would like better, or what you think would sell to an audience - the writer doesn't give a shit anyway - so don't waste your breath on that, they want useful facts about what doesn’t work and why. You need to be explaining what you found that worked, and what you found that didn't work, or was confusing to you. This sets off light bulbs in the writer's head (one hopes), and your criticism becomes constructive. Think of it from another, power-structure perspective: you have little experience in cooking, you're an intern for a famous chef. You eat one of his meals and it's not so great, not your "cup of tea". So you decide to tell him what you would have done and what you think would be better. But, you're the intern - why should the chef give a shit? In fact, you're probably just seen as a fool giving advice to someone who knows what they're doing and instead of being helpful you’re a moron following a set of rules you picked up somewhere. Why? Because you’re not a chef yet. #8. No one is going to hold your hand through this. It's a tough, masochistic art, that sometimes isn't even art. Sometimes it's a slot machine with the idea of praying for a big winner. Fuck, I wish I could tell you it's not. I wish I could tell you that all your dreams are horrifically beautiful and fantastic and lovely and everyone cares about everyone else. But they don't. It's cold out here. You die at the end. You're going to get trampled on, spit at, kicked around, beaten and pushed until the only thing left of the person you used to be is ash with bad knees, a migraine, and a sore ego. That's the way it is. Have you ever wondered why people in the entertainment industry have astoundingly fragile egos? Why they constantly suck each other off? This is why. Things have always been separated between two things: good ones and bad ones. "I thought you were a good one.", "I was worried you were one of the bad ones." There is not enough space here to go into detail on what this means, and how it has effected and affected people just trying to live and make art since 1890, but it's awful and it's a disgrace (read Sidney Lumet’s book). In short, it's the business side. Frigid. Unless you can let things go, unless you have a great bullshit detector or can let it roll off your back. My advice to you is to be as solitary as possible, and work on what you want to work on. It may not pay, but damn it at least you'll be doing what you want to do, and you'll have no regrets in the end because it’s from the heart. #9. Everyone is different. Not everyone is into the same things as you. And not everyone sees orange as the same color you do. Only kids think this way. Doesn't matter what social media says, the media in general, or politically correct congregations. We're not all the same. The "fucks" in your dialogue will be taken by one person as anger or threatening, and another person as just normal speaking. Backgrounds are different, environments are different. Hair styles are different. White houses, or broken fences. Different. We are not homogeneous. Film is also not a soapbox, or podium for political causes and social agendas. If you want to push an agenda, make a documentary. Cinema is also not (regardless of what undeserving rich directors think) about money. Its lively hood and quality doesn't exist on whether or not a certain number of people bought a ticket. You have any idea how many geniuses over time died flat broke and are only now recognized for their feats? Anyone can feed peanuts to a hungry idiot if given the chance. They’ll gobble that shit up. But peanuts never stand the test of time.

“Nobody knows what the hell they’re doing“ - William Goldman

What cinema is about is simple: broadening minds, culturing people about things they've never seen through places they've never been, and reflecting human emotions. Real human emotions, not sentimentality. Fantasy is fun, and has its place, but nothing but fantasy is disillusionment. Ultimately, if you have nothing to say in the former regard, who or what are you doing it for? The money? The pain? Why? Cinema is not just about entertainment. That's what the circus is for - not film. If you're not trying to make an objective moral point, or reflect human nature as how it's seen in a way most can't see it, then what are you doing? What part of this is you? The money? These are the things that you will be asked by a producer or executive. #10. You're struggling, you don't know if you have it, you don't know if you've lost it. You're confused, puzzled, irritated, aggravated, disappointed, hate filled, self-loathing but polite to strangers for some reason... there is no path you can see through the forest. That’s because there isn’t one. But every creative person goes through this, you are not alone. You are not alone. I know it doesn’t help with the pain, but at least there’s that. Whether or not you keep going separates you from those who quit - as cliche as that sounds - it's goddamn true. Find your pace, and just keep going. You’ll know sooner or later if it’s in your blood. If that wasn't enough to motivate you, let me tell you a brief story: When I was a boy, I had one parent, I was emotionally abused on a daily basis by her because I looked like the man who left. My father was somewhere. I was abused by my classmates. Betrayed by so called friends. Chased by the police. Oppressed by my teachers. Sought after by gang members, beaten up daily, fought back daily. I wasn't liked. No idea why, confused. And this was all while dealing with just the growing up part, and puberty to boot. But, I escaped into a world that thankfully wasn't drugs, yet every analyst I've ever seen has told me that it normally should have been. But it wasn't. A lot of bad shit has happened to me, and I've met a lot of people. This is my personal well I draw from. If you don't have one, you usually make one just by living: being a player and not a spectator. I've lived a lot - too much, too soon. But the point I'm trying to make is that somehow I'm still alive. I am alive. I never thought I'd make it to 20. You hear that a lot, but I really didn't. I had 3 close friends, and 2 of them did not. The 3rd moved away, or ran, it doesn't matter - he forgot me, so I try hard to forget him. I had no college education, I had no picket sign with any anti-something on it. I had, and still have, whatever my pocket gives me. That's it. That’s all. And I'm damn happy to have it. Now, I'm long, long past 20. I can’t even remember it. And if someone like me who has been through the things that he's been through can heal from bruises, try to sew up wounds... then you can sit your fucking ass down and finish your goddamn script. I've finished plenty of mine. So knock off the bullshit and just do it. What are you worried about, failing? So what, get back on the bike.

[fiore-della-valle]

Writing questions tag

I was tagged by @cookiedoughmeagain - thanks, lovely! (Also responding to the open tag by @grey-haven )

1) How many works in progress do you currently have in progress?

Ahahahaha.  Um.  I have three major unfinished works posted to AO3, all of which I still consider in progress.  I have, in my ‘currently active’ pile, approximately twenty different stories/series, of which three are original fic/worlds.  But in terms of like, stories I have started, have put at least 5k words into, and intend to eventually finish somehow...  I have at least nine original worlds and literally hundreds of fics.  A lot of which are sitting in the 15k-50k word range, but that just.  Aren’t done.

2) Do you/would you write fanfiction?

I write a ton of Haven fic, even if it’s only ever posted infrequently.  I have very occasionally dabbled in other fandoms, and certainly don’t automatically reject the idea of writing more stories in other fandoms.  In order to finish my current pile of started projects, I expect I will be writing Haven fic until I die just to try and clear out my ideas folder.

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?

Depends on the situation.  I do like paper books, and I adore that a paper book will never run out of battery on me mid-flight, for example.  However, I love being able to put seven thousand different stories into my pocket, so most of my reading for the last few years has been ebooks.  I would love to be able to have both an ebook copy and a hard copy of everything.

4) When did you start writing?

Complicated question.  I had a few notebooks with the first few pages of stories written down in them from about the time I was twelve, but the first piece of writing that ever made me feel like I was good at it, like it was something I wanted to do, and might even be able to do, was a poem I wrote for an eighth grade assignment.  After that, there was a lot of poetry, and then the first real story I started was when I was fourteen or fifteen, and I hand-wrote about two hundred pages of really terrible fantasy story that I shared with my friends during lunch breaks.  From that point on, I always had some writing happening somewhere, which got much easier once I learned how to type.  I didn’t start writing fanfiction in any serious capacity until...  2011?  Maybe?  When I dabbled in the Castle fandom.  But it was at the end of 2014 when writing fic kind of took over my life, when I stumbled into the Haven fandom.

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?

Definitely, I would not get anything accomplished otherwise. @serendipityxxi is the best and puts up with my complete inability to keep focused, and gets all of my random story bits.  @kedreeva, @redbirdblogs, @yumearashi, @queenbookwench, and pretty much the whole Haven crew usually have access to my WIP files, and are gracious enough to occasionally peek in and remind me to actually do things.  I have another group who sometimes listen to me babble about original fic, so they get those links when they want.  And I cannot express how incredibly grateful I am to all of them, because seriously, I would not get anything accomplished without the feedback and encouragement from all these wonderful people.

6) Where is your favorite place to write?

My couch, when the house is mostly empty/quiet, and I can turn the music on, and settle under some blankets.  Very occasionally, my porch, on the other couch, when it’s cool and dark and there are night-sounds happening.

7) Favorite childhood book?

Jurassic Park, and both the Emelan and Tortall series by @tamorapierce.  I have read my Circle of Magic books so many times that they are starting to disintegrate, and Wild Magic will always be one of those stories that brings me a sense of home.  Also Polgara the Sorceress, by David and Leigh Eddings, though it has been a long time since I’ve re-visited that universe.

8) Writing for fun or writing for publication?

Both.  I do desperately want to get some of my original stuff done and polished to the point where I can get it published, because I like my worlds and I want to be able to share them someday.  But I love writing fic, I love it, and I take an incredible amount of joy out of re-imagining and expanding familiar worlds and favorite characters.

9) Pen and paper or computer?

99% of the time, computer.  Because I can type much faster and for much longer than I can hand-write, and also I have a tendency to edit as I go, which is a thousand times simpler when I don’t have to cross out and re-write whole paragraphs as I realize the flow is wrong.  However, sometimes, I just really really need the texture and visual of a notebook and pen, and it’s easier for me to hand-write than type on a phone, so if I’m out and about, I’ll usually have a notebook with me just in case.

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?

Yes, the most useful of which was the writer’s workshop I participated in for a year or two.  It met once a week, and we’d go in, work on projects, and get feedback.

11) What inspires you to write?

I can’t imagine not writing, honestly.  I am not always good at it, and I don’t always make a lot of progress, but stories are my life, they keep me going.  I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t writing.  And specific inspiration- I wouldn’t even know how to describe it.  I can turn around wrong and have an entire universe download itself into my head- I was visiting a friend and saw a Suspicious Cocoon and now have a horror story unfolding, I saw a picture of an armband and needed to start developing a language so I could write a fantasy story that showed up with it.  It’s random, and often overwhelming, but music is one frequent source of ideas/feelings/moods for writing.

Tagging anybody who wants to give this a go, but specifically @kedreeva, @redbirdblogs, and @chasingshhadows (though obviously no pressure if you don’t feel like it).  I think everyone else I would usually tap has already gotten a tag (and if /not/, consider this a tag if you feel like it).

[knb-holy-universe-blog]

Oh yes, I definitely love this guy! I love almost everyone in KnB tho, but this one has a special place in the "kokoro" xD But I'ma request a different char since you're already doing something with Mayuzumi~ how about a scenario with Takao, where he's in love with his girl childhood friend but won't dare confess since he's afraid of ruining their friendship, but truth is she's in love w/ him too and also won't confess for the same reasons~ & no pressure dear, I know you won't ever disappoint ;)

Thank you; your messages really touch me. Chihiro has a speacial place in my kokoro too everytime i see a picture of him, i got a nostalgia feeling, i feel so sad for him Bae :’( . I really hope that you like the story i wrote 

P.s: I apologize for the late replay darling

                                        My charmingprince:

Hé friend! Tell me when did you just stop being afriend and make all your way to steal my heart. It was just for a second that Ileft my guard down and…

I was crying as always, after being bullied because ofmy dialect, my clothes also. Yeah I wasn’t a city girl, I came from a paradise,a village in Kyushu “Minamioguni” and I was proud but I shouldn’t be too proudback then. I just moved to Tokyo, a 10 years old girl, thinking that thingswould be the same or even better than in my hometown. I found myself beingmocked, bullied because I wasn’t from Tokyo. School, I set alone, nobody talkedto me and nobody noticed me. All Kids my age were afraid to be questioned bythe teacher but me, no I was happy because the teacher was the only one whospoke to me, I always watched him whispering : “Teacher notice me, talk to me,break the loneliness around me…”. This was my daily life until HE came, a boyfull of life, full of energy, HE smiled and TALKED to me and then my lonely dayshad an end.

This is how everything started.

“Takao, do you think we should watch The true Historyor Me and my Love?, I can’t pick one because both seem boring”

“Mmm let’s watch Me and my Love it may have somecomedy scenes in it”

“You’re right” You said smiling to him

You’re going to the cinema with him, he invited youlast week end but you didn’t know that they will be diffusing only these twomovies, you wanted some comedy, some action and maybe some horror but nothistory or worse romance. You always hated those movies where the popular guyfall for the unpopular girl and do anything to win her heart, confessing,getting jealous and all No things don’t turn out this way in reality

After all, it doesn’t turn out this way for you, youknow this guy for years, you fell for him from the start, it didn’t take solong to steal your heart away. You were ready to confess two years ago whenyour friend stopped you telling you that first you have to make sure that helikes you. You started stalking him, following him around and seeing how hetreats other BUT he treated you the same way as others, no he doesn’tlike you back, he just acts this way because it’s just his Attitude.

Your friend said that there’s some friends whoconfessed to each other and ended up together but in some cases they gotrejected and could not be friends Anymore. The rejection part it wasokay for you because you already know that if you like someone, he doesn’tnecessary like you back. But not being friends with him anymore NO NO youcould never ever accept this, after all he’s your first and only true friendand if burying your feelings deep inside you is the price to pay for havingsuch a friend then it’s worth it’s really worth it.

Since that day you’re holding yourself back, forcingyourself to just be friends with him and even that night in the cinema you keptdoing this:

“The movie was nice, we judged it too early” he said

“Mmm it wasn’t that bad but it wasn’t that nice too”

“Why not? It was a beautiful story, it started just bya friendship and turned to the most beautiful love story. I don’t see why youdon’t like it”

“Because it’s too unrealistic” you shouted

“Heinn! Really? It often happens in friendship wherethey both fall for each other” before he could express himself more, you spoke:

“Yeah and often happens where one of them confessed,got rejected and worse got excluded from their lives”

As you finished speaking, you noticed somethingchanging his eyes, it was a kind of sadness like a light was shut down in hiseyes, he was looking disappointed maybe but why?

“Are you okay Takao” you asked

He was still looking away but after a few seconds, hesmiled and got back to his normal self:

“Mmm you’re right, let’s say that sometimes it worksout between friends but sometimes it just doesn’t”

You nodded: “That’s right”

You were in front of his door, you were both talkingand didn’t notice that he has arrived to where he lives.

“Aah here you are Takao, I still having a few metersto walk before getting home. Good night and thanks for the movie”

“Good night” he said

You turned a little bit upset that he didn’t offer towalk you home as he always does but he called you again:

“ (Name) you know, lucky are the ones that works outfor them” he just said these words and entered his house. Letting you outthere, confused and still he didn’t offer to walk you home. You sighed,starting to question yourself:

“What does it mean?”, “Maybe he likes me back?”, “Nono never, waiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, oh god no, maybe he likes another friend?”

You hurried, took your phone out and called yourfriend:

“(Friend name) I’m sorry for calling you at this timebut I really need to ask you something about Takao?”

“Mmm ok, what is it?”

“I think that he loves someone, because ( you told herthe whole story), what do you think?” after telling her the story, you alreadyarrived at your place but you didn’t want to enter, you wanted to hear yourfriend’s answer in all privacy.

“Mmm yeah probably, he’s willing to confess to her butwith your words I guess that you’re making him more skeptical”

“So, this is how things look like? He really lovesanother friend of him?” your ton has changed as you started to feel your bodygetting weak

“(Name) what’s wrong with you? I thought that wetalked about this two years ago, you said that this story is finished and thatyou already closed the book. You said that the only thing that matters is thatyou’re still his friends So what happened”

She was right, I’ve already make up my mind two yearsago, I decided to bury my feelings in order to still be his friend, why I’m Ithis greedy and selfish? I have to accept that there’s a difference betweenfriends and lovers: Friends SUPPORT each other while lovers LOVE each other. Hewas my first friend, he saved me, he helped me and changed my whole life,thanks to him that I’m not lonely anymore and that’s why I should show mygratitude by supporting him.

You were all decided to bring up that topic and tellhim that you’re supporting him and even you’re ready to speak to this girl ifhe doesn’t have the courage to.

“Ta-ka-ooo ohayooo” You said in a cheering mood

“(Na-me)” he yelled back

“How are you doing today?”

“Alright, I’m sorry for last night, I was a totaljerk, I forgot to walk you home”

You were surprised:

“No no never mind, it’s okay, it’s not that far youknow”

“Yeah but still though, I have to walk you home. Thisis how it works in Dates”

Your eyes were wide opened in surprise and when he sawyour expression, he changed the topic quickly because he didn’t want to makeyou uncomfortable

“(Name) you’re good with physics?”

You blinked a few times before nodding

“Great, you’ll help me study right? I feel so leftbehind just because I missed two classes”

“Of course, you can count on me” You smiled

“I have to go now Takao” You tried to leave

He grabbed your hand: “Do you have something to donow?”

“N.. Nothing” you said nervously

“Then why did you say that you have to go?”

“Mmm because I don’t want to bother you, You usuallylike to spend the lunch break with Midorima no?”

He laughed, “You can just say that you don’t want tospend the break with me?”

“No nooo never say that You idiot, you know how much Ienjoy myself with you”

“Mmmm really?” he started to tease you

“Taaaaaaakaooo you know it”

“Haha yeah I know, I just like it when you make thisexpression it’s just so cute”

He took your hand: “Come on, let’s play a card game”

You had no choice but to accept. Why is he makingthings this hard for you? If he likes another girl, why is he doing this? Can’the tell that you may fall for him if he keeps treating you like that? A girl isreally sensitive and fragile, she could easily get carried on by thesegestures.

After the lunch break, you got back to your classstaring at your friend:

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing” you mumbled

She sighed:

“If this is the part where I must beg you to tell mewhat’s wrong, I think I’ll pass I’m too tired”

You were sulking

“Pffff fine please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Mmm Takao” you whispered

“I can’t hear you”

“Akao” you whispered again and she got mad

“Speak clearly or shut the fuck up” she screamedmaking you tremble

“It’s Takao” you raised your voice a little bit

“Again” she sighed

“I’m really sorry but he grabbed my hand and playedwith me card games”

“And so…”

“So euuuh” you couldn’t find proper words

“(Name) what’s wrong with you? Can you just get overit?”

“No it’s just that lately things are harder thanbefore, he’s giving me so much attention and I can’t control myself anymore”you started crying

She took you in her arms and hugged you:

“You must control your feelings, take a break from himnow and everything will be alright”

“Fine” you said

After this day you started avoiding Takao, it was theweek end so you went shopping with your friend but he didn’t stop calling you.

“Takao give me a break please” you said as you lookedat your phone, like asking if you could pick or not.

“Ok see what he wants”

You quickly picked up: “Mochi mocha Takao”

“Heyy (Name) where are you?”

“I’m in the shopping mall with (friend Name), why?”

“Aaah really?” he was surprised and a little upset

“Why?” you asked again

“You said you’ll help me with physics”

You covered your mouth with your hand in surprise:“I’m really sorry I completely forget”

He sighed: “It’s okay, I’ll just ask Shin chan forhelp”

“Noo no wait, I’ll be done in a few minutes” yourfriend was looking at you surprised as you said those words, “Meet me in myhouse after an hour ok?”

He laughed: “ Perfect” and then he hung up

You wanted to turn and face your friend, but such ascary dark aura was coming out from her, you didn’t dare to turn but she puther hand on your shoulder and made you turn. You closed your eyes and bowed:

“I’m really sorry but I need to help him, I promisedhim that day”

“Ohh really!” she was speaking with such devilishvoice

You were so scared: “I swear we’ll only study”

“Dare to say that you did more than study and I swearI’ll write “Study” in the shopping mall with your blood”

You backed off: “No worries, let’s go eat some icecream”

She liked ice cream so you thought that this couldcalm her but she kept her devilish aura during the whole walk until you wereabout to say goodbye:

“(Name) really don’t screw everything up, I don’t wantto see you broken”

You hugged her: “Don’t worry just study”

You entered your house repeating “Just study” , yougot to your room to make sure that everything is in place, a few minutes laterTakao came in.

“Hello (Name)” he said as loudly as always but hefound you repeating some weird things (Just study)

“(Name) if you don’t feel alright, I can go”

“No no everything is cool, we’re just going to Study”you said with a creepy laugh

“(Name) are you possessed or something?” he asked withan awkward expression

“Haha no, why are you asking?” your laugh was evenmore creepy this time

“You’re scaring me you know”

You started to laugh again so he got close to you andstarted a tickle fight, you were laughing so hard while trying to tickle himbut he always won in this game even this time, which causes the room to befilled up only with your laughing

“Now it’s your beautiful natural laugh” He said whilegiving you a bright smile

You stopped laughing and looked at him, he was lookingat you and it was really awkward but thanks god, your mom came in:

“Here are some cookies, hot chocolate drink and somesnacks for the hardest working students”

“Thanks mom” you said but you were surprised when youheard Takao saying:

“Thank you so much Mom”

You were friends for so long and he used to come toyour place but he never called your mother “Mom”

Suddenly, (Friend Name)’s face came to your mind andyour head got filled up again with “Just study” but you stopped yourself frombeing creepy this time

“Let’s just study Takao” you said

“I’ll leave you now, study well kids” She said as sheclosed the door

“So if I remember well, you missed just those twoclasses”

“Yes ma’am” he said trying to put a pleasantatmosphere

“Fine, it’s easy I’ll just explain it to you in notime” you said as you opened the book and your notes of physics

You were explaining to him with such enthusiasm, itwas rare for him to ask you for help, it’s always the other way around so oncehe does this, you gave it your all because you really want to show him howgrateful you are to him.

“Done, Do you have any questions?” You asked

“No no at all, thanks to you” He smiled to you

“Are you sure? I mean you asked no questions and…” Hecut you off

“I’m sure, let’s eat something”  

You both took a cookie and started eating whiledrinking the chocolate that became so cold.

“Maybe I should tell Mom to warm it up for us”

“No she’ll get angry to know that we let it get cold”he said amused at this situation

“Mmm you’re right”

He knew so many things about your life, the way yourparents would react, the way you would react, you were so close, you were bestfriends but silently you’re wishing to be More

After some time, he left. You wanted to hold him fordinner but you knew you shouldn’t. You called your friend:

“Hi! I just wanted to let you know that we juststudied BUT”

She was about to scream when you cut her off:

“Wait but all the time he was staring at me, he didn’task any question and he was just looking at me. Honestly I think that healready understood the lesson but just wanted….”

You really wished to continue, to say that maybe hejust wanted to be with you and it was just an excuse but you had no confidence,no you knew him for so long and if he wanted to be with you, he just could havedone it already so no ….

“I’m sorry” you said and your voice started to sound alittle desperate while on the other line, a volcano was ready to explode,

“Listen bitch, what did I say?”

“I know I knowI’m sorry, I will avoid him like really avoid him from tomorrow and on”

You spoke with such honesty that the volcano calmeddown:

“Then it’s okay”

“Sure, this is how things must be after all” You voicewas sending away regrets and remorse.

“It’s for the best, I don’t want you to be hurt”

“I know” You voice was still sounding desperate

“Ok, one last time” she shouted

You were surprised: “What one last time?”

“I said one last time, I mean you can try it out onelast time”

You couldn’t believe your ears, you friend is giving youthe green light but even though you were skeptical about this whole thing.

“I’m not sure if I should, after all he may like afriend but not me”

“Yeah and that’s why you’ll try to ask him startingfrom tomorrow”

“Ask him what?” you panicked

“Don’t worry, ask him some personal questions”

You panicked more: “What kind?”

“It’s obvious no idiot? Like do you like someone? Whatkind of girls do you like? Do you have exes?” She said proudly

“No it’s just too personal, I don’t see myself askinghim this kind of questions”

She laughed: “Ah really! How do you want to be hisgirlfriend then? You know, relationships are different then friendships, inrelationship you have to sweet talk to each other, feel jealous and show it,sometimes dirty talk if not always”

Her last words made you scream: “Whattttt!! Dirtytalk! How? Why?”

She sighed: “Don’t worry, if Takao likes you then he’sgoing to teach you”

You felt a little shy about this idea but deep insideyou, you wished if it was real.

“Then tomorrow I will try” you mumbled

“Aha that’s the spirit” she yelled before hanging up

You liked this friend, if she wants to push you up shereally could but if she wants to push you far she could do it too. It’s likeshe was really gifted with words and you liked it this side of her.

Tomorrow lunch break:

You went to Takao class, you found him laughing whileteasing Midorima.

“Ohayo Takao” You tried to be as loud as always but theconversation you prepared for hours in your room made you a little terrified

“Hi (Name), something’s wrong?” He asked

“No no no, why?” You tried to fake a smile and it wasjust obvious

“Is there something you want to say?” he asked againbut a little more worried this time

“There’s nothing, absolutely nothing” You tried evenharder to fake that smile

“I need to go to do something Nanodayo” the greenhaired boy said as he was leaving. You knew that he left just to make youcomfortable with Takao and it was very embarrassing for you.

You sat on a chair while thinking of an excuse becausenow you know that you look like you’re hiding something.

“So?” he asked again

You sighed: “Pfff ok, it’s just that my classmatelikes a boy here and he doesn’t like her back, she told me her story earlierand that’s why I feel sad for her”

It was the only excuse you found and you thought thatit was the best because, you could make it look like you’re sad for her and onthe other hand, you can bring up your daring questions.

“Aaah it must be tough for her” He said as he waslooking at the window

“Totally”

You were trying with all your power to bring up thosequestions but the words were more and more heavier for your mouth that youstayed silent.

“Do you have someone like that?” he broke the silent

“Heiin?” you asked in surprise, blinking and wonderingif you heard him right

“I asked if you have someone that you like” You wereturning into a tomato, a good quality tomato, you see the one really red

You lost all your means, you were nervous and theworst, you couldn’t even look at him in the eye

“I have someone like that” He said

You were shocked, you felt a pain in your chest, adeep sorrow taking over your body, you wanted to ask who that person was butyou were too scared.

(Please Takao, you can like someone else but forgod’s sake do it in silence, don’t let me know or else I’ll be really inpieces)

Your head down, this is all you wanted to say to himbut you already knew you never would. You raised your head, facing him.

“Aaah that’s a good thing. Love must be a greatfeeling” You ignored from where this power come to your body but you weregrateful that it came

“No at all, it’s amazing when it’s a shared feelingbut if it’s one sided feeling then it’s tiring” he smiled, a sad smile not thatusual bright one

You were looking sad, anybody would tell that thisnews dragged you down.

“Do you think I should confess? Do you think that shemay like me back?” He added to your pain

At this moment, you wanted more than anything, yeahabsolutely more than anything to hold him back but jeez how many times was hethere for you? How many times he helped you? How much he gave you? “FRIENDSsupport each other and it was all”. And now, if you’re a real friend then youmust support him.

You clenched your fist letting go all your anger thenyou relaxed and faked a smile, but this one was much more convincing:

“Totally, you should confess to her. I don’t know ifyou’ve been told this or not but I think that any girl, yeah any girl wouldfall for you because why the hell not. She’ll never find better than you,you’ll be there for her whenever she needs, you’ll support her and cheer her upwhen in need and you will love her with your all so just tell me why wouldn’tshe like you back. Be confident and if she was stupid enough to reject you thenjust know that she doesn’t really know you so give her some time to see throughyou and she’ll be yours that’s for sure”

You were surprised at your own words, you could speakboldly and express your feelings freely. Yes you may regret it because you’repushing him to go to another girl but hell he deserves to be happy and you’llhelp him to be happy even if it means Happy but not with you

The bell rang and you were happy for the first time inyour life to hear it. You tuned to the door:

“Looks like I need to go now, good luck with yourconfession” you wanted to walk away when he grabbed your hand, turned you tohim and kissed you.

“O.M.G God please don’t wake me up if it’s a dream”this the only thing that was playing on in your head right now. You wereshocked and surprised but very happy, he was your first love and now your firstkiss.

He got closer to your ears and whispered: “I love youand I won’t accept other than ‘I love you too” as a response, it’s you whopushed me to confess and guaranteed a positive answer no?”

You pulled back: “What! I don’t understand”, youwondered if he’s joking or being serious now

“Ohhh (Name) it’s hard to finally say it and you wantme to repeat it” he pouted, “You’re the one I like, I really hope that you feelsomething for me too , at least give me a chance to show you my all as yousaid”

Wait, is this real! The students started to enter theclassroom, it wasn’t the place or the moment to talk about this but you couldn’tlet him without answer. You approached him and whispered in his ear: “I loveyou too”

He was shocked and you wondered why, you wanted to askbut you knew you couldn’t. You walked out the class while waving to him but hewas just staring at you with that weird look on his face. Once you made sure hecan’t see you anymore, you started running in the hallway to meet your friend,you could hear “ don’t run in the hallway”, “You’re in high school not inkindergarten” but you were too happy to pay attention to them. You saw yourfriend, she was playing with her phone, you rushed to her and moved the phoneaway from her. It’s like you pushed the death button on, she gave you a deathglare and prepared herself to give you a punch or slap you, you weren’t reallysure but before she could move, you shouted: “He said he loves me”

All the students that were there looked at youconfused and at your surprise, a voice spoke: “Your love life doesn’t interestus, you better save that energy and excitement for your studies”.

You recognized that voice, it was the teacher’s voice.God you were so embarrassed so you told your friend that you’ll tell her thewhole story after class. You took your seat, opened your book when you feltyour phone vibrates in your pocket. You wanted just to check who was it, and itwas Takao. No, you don’t usually do that, read texts in class, maybe you do itsometimes but not always. As you read it, your eyes opened widely:

“(Name) I swear I can’t describe how happy I am, Inever thought that you loved me, I was checking all the time on the internetthe signs that tell if you have a chance with a girl. And according to it, Ihad some slight chances, this is why I decided to try my luck this time. I meanit’s been so long that I wanted to try It out, to tell you how I feel but I wasterrified that you wouldn’t feel the same and would take your distance with mewhich I can’t accept. (Name) I just can’t accept it, I know you for so long andI can’t bear to lose you but I guess that Shin chan was right, he said thattoday I have luck, I don’t usually believe it but it turned out to be real.Well, I’d be happy if you could come to watch me practice, having you with mewill boost my skills”.

You were so happy, a sparkle could be seen in youreyes. He was feeling the same for you and he didn’t act for the same reasons.Both of you loved each other and kept it hidden because you were too afraid toruin this friendship, you could never be more blessed.

You were so excited, you had so much to say, you wereabout to start typing when you felt a hand taking your phone away.

“Confiscated until the end of class” It was yourteacher.

Whyyy? I always played games in class, send texts (youfinally confessed) but I was never caught up and today, when I really need to textsomeone I was caught.

Life is unfair, but no, not for you maybe you can’ttext him now but you have him all for yourself and it’s something you alwayswished, let’s say your most precious wish was granted. And yeah sometimes thelove stories you see in movies may really happen in real life, at least it didfor you. He’s not riding a horse, he doesn’t do poetry or say romantic sweettalks but yet he’s a charming prince, he’s your charming prince.